Life has a funny way of steering us to where we need to be. I'm not always great at the day to day. Sometimes I flat out suck at being the person I hope people will remember. But I'm getting closer each day.
Most of the time, I try to be bold. I try to live life as out loud as I can and make every effort to embrace the mess. Every once in a while though, there are moments when my heart aches under the weight of timidity.
Had one of those moments just now. Someone I admire very, very much just made a comment about how he is giving back to his community. My gut impulse? To tell him that he's the kind of man that I genuinely aspire toward being.But I didn't. Because I was afraid I'd freak him out. Because I didn't want to dillute the sentiment by saying he's the type of person I hope that I will be (which is, of course, also true). Because I value him in my life too much to be real - which of course is the kind of thing that makes me think I should just be bold and do it anyway.Adjusting back into one's routine after being out of it for a while can be challenging. This is a truth that I've seen playing out the last couple of days now that I've turned off vacation mode and am trying to get back into the swing of things.
But I don't think that it's just the two weeks of vacation and the chaos of coming out to my partner's family in far more visible ways or dealing with a (I don't know that this is the right word, but) friend who still thinks that transition issues really do just boil down to which restroom a person uses and why he/she/ze chose that one. I don't think that it's just an altered sleep schedule or feeling a little bit behind - though I won't deny the impact of those things. I think it's that something just seems to have shifted in me and that I've become a bit more aware of the world around me again.
A lot of that has to do with the recent spike in teen suicides based on anti-gay bullying. Much of that has to do with the reality that the only reason those suicides started to get attention was the "hip" anti- cyber-bullying angle that the media felt they could stand behind. Even more has to do with the fact that, well, in light of these issues, there hasn't been a whole lot of exploration into other, related tragedies such as a transwoman murdered and the police deciding that even though she'd changed her birth certificate and name to reflect her gender what really mattered was the name she'd once been given - or the fact that antigay, bias motivated crimes happened at the Stonewall Inn in New York of all places.
I guess the big issue is that this all just seems like something that shouldn't be a problem. People are people are people are people are people. We don't have to agree. We don't have to approve. But we have to be there for each other. We have to share this world of ours. We have to celebrate the good. We have a responsibility to one another - and to treat others with respect and compassion.
I like the idea of the It Gets Better project and the videos being shared. I have some concerns about it - many of which I've seen others voice as well. There's some risk. There are situations in which it doesn't get better. But there needs to be that sort of hope as well, and I get that it's not easy to balance.
Not every kid has even one teacher who will be supportive. Not every kid has a family that will support them. Not every kid has access to the web or will go to college or find a job in a state where there are protections in place that give someone who doesn't fit the mold a chance to open the door. Not every kid will grow up to live in a supportive community. Some kids - even with a world of opportunity in front of them - are choosing not to grow up at all.
This is bugging me right now - and it's taking up brainspace that I don't really have to spare. And that probably has a lot to do with the fact that I understand how it can happen.
I didn't really mesh with my peers in school. I skipped my senior year - in part to escape, in part because I wasn't being challenged. I didn't fit and I wanted to disappear so badly because I didn't believe I deserved an identity that I starved myself down to almost nothing and spent a lot of time in hospitals. My parents threatened to disown me when I came out the first time, and I spent years lying about my identity to them. When I started coming out again, they didn't speak to me for more than 6 months; our relationship now is tenuous at best. The state I live in... Well, let's leave it at this: when I change my name with the rental office, they will have the right to look for ways to terminate my lease because the state laws say that it's fine to deny a person in my position housing. I also get that some days, the lingering depression that I can't always shake has me wondering why I even try.
But then there are the other days. There are the days when I read books like Gender Outlaws The Next Generation and see others like me. There are days when I post a review of such a book on the blog that I started years ago and realize that one voice - however small and shaky - can change someone's perspective or at least leave them feeling less alone. There are days when I know that there's more to life and living - and days when I know that, because I've quit looking for just one circle of people to connect with, I have a chance to just be a person that someone gets to know and that some of that backdrop stuff falls away. And if it can fall away for me, then maybe, just maybe, it's something that will get in the way less for someone else further down the road.
I keep going as a part of giving back. I don't always have a voice that's loud enough to lead the masses. I don't always have the cash to bail out someone whose need is greater than my own - though I'm a lot better now about finding ways to make that happen than I used to be. I don't always believe that I know where to start - but for right now I do, and that place is right where I am.
Sometimes, it's hard to know which end is up. This is particularly true when it's 3 in the afternoon, I'm sitting in a coffee shop in Montpelier, VT, and drinking a beer while trying to put together a blog post. There was a year when this was my daily habit. At that point though, the posts weren't for me - they were for clients - and I didn't normally get started with the writing part until my second or third pint.
It both helped me cope with the depression that I was experiencing and helped to perpetuate it. I wasn't doing work that mattered to me - I'm astounded by how much closer I am to that now, and should probably make an effort to remind myself of that more often. The changes that have happened over the last 2 years are significant, and I'm glad for them. Even though I'm not convinced that I've found a real life's calling, I'm more content than I often realize. Then again, part of my 30 day challenge, this go around, was to think about the longterm - the most challenging part is not knowing what I want to be when I grow up because I never really counted on, well, growing up. Today though, I feel like I've made some progress on that list (I even find myself missing the office). There has been other progress as well. I've finished reading two biographies and working on reviews of them (I've also kicked back with some fiction in my down time). Because I expected that I could get through the process of changing my name with Social Security faster here than in the offices around DC, I brought all of my paperwork with me. I was right; the change was made in less than 15 minutes - including the time that it took to wait for the person ahead of me at the counter. I'll be able to change things with the credit union I'm still a member of later this week as well. I've take a couple of walks today; fit in a hike on Sunday, another on Monday, and a 3 mile walk over backroads and in the town where my partner grew up yesterday. Tonight I've talked a handful of friends into meeting us at a restaurant participating in the Dine Out week; given that these get togethers often last hours and the credit cards come out to cover the cost that tends to exceed what any of us have in cash. That's not to say that there weren't hiccups throughout the week though. I paid with a bank card when we took my in-laws out for a meal on Sunday; the server came back and called me Zane. I'm still terrified of losing the love and support of family. I know they know. They know I know they know. And I'm just not ready yet to have the full conversation. I've strained my knee - badly - after a cartilage tear and some recent sprain; this means that my partner is less than invested in some of the other hikes and trails I wanted to tackle in the next week. I'm working on her still, of course, because I don't want to miss out on the opportunity. There are trees here, and fresh air, and those things aren't really a part of my every day experience. In other words, what I'm finding is that even while traveling there are some ups and downs and all over the place moments. But I feel more real than I have in a long, long while - and I can't help but think that's a really good thing.I sat down with the intention of writing a lit of all of the things that I need to get to tonight before heading out to spend some time with family and friends in New England (and, let's face it, given that the color is happening, even though it's supposed to be cool and rainy, there isn't really a better time to head there), and I realized I was hungry. And that reminded me that I hadn't yet made a post in response to The Great American Dine Out. To be fair, it made me wish that it were already the 19th so that I could feel better about going out to grab something tonight, but I digress.
In all the talk leading up to the Dine Out - all the tweets talking #NoKidHungry and #DineOut, encouragement to add a Twibbon, and reminders of the Tweetathon coming up on 9/20 - I started to see just how easy it it to make a difference. Making it even easier? The handy search tool that lets you find a participating restaurant where you are.
With that tool, by the way, I figured out which local restaurants I'd be frequenting along with friends who I haven't seen for a while for get-togethers next week.
Hunger is real. It's a problem. While my case is different, I can say for sure that I know how hard it is to think, learn, play, and generally care when there isn't adequate nutrition available. We don't all make donations. We don't all take the time to donate to food pantries or serve meals at soup kitchens. We don't always have the chance to connect with a child or family that we can help directly. But we've all got to eat; why not make the meal worthwhile?
The act of change changes us. The momentum, the accountability, the quest for something better - the quest to become someone better: it's a funny little thing. Once you see what you can do in a short amount of time, there's a challenge to keep doing more. I've seen it from others who have posted their bucket lists too (and there's something calming about knowing that there's a movement afoot).
Change is magic. So is authenticity.
At first, it was strange. I'm the guy on the outskirts who's nosing in. My goals were really... well, a lot more tailored to me and who I was right then. But in retrospect I'm okay with that. If it weren't for those goals, I wouldn't have ID and a bank card in my name before heading out for an extended stay with family and friends in Vermont. I wouldn't be working on more projects, and I wouldn't be making the time to get some writing done.
But the more that I think about it, the more that I'm seeing where there are more changes that I want and need to make. I thought about waiting before creating a new list - I've had a lot on my mind, my sleep schedule is all out of whack, and I'm closing in on a two-week trip out of town. Is this really the right time to focus on making big changes?
I think it is.
So, here goes nothing:
Sometimes, I don't believe that time moves in a linear sort of way. I believe that it does. I know that 8pm comes after 6:42pm, and that every twelve hours the numbers repeat themselves. I understand that the years add up, one after the next - and, as an aside, I know that the days add up, and the years circle around, and that I can still remember exactly where I was and what was going on early in the morning on September 11, 2001.
But this week at least, the moments have had a weird sort of ebb and flow. One moment I'm clearly in the now, the next it seems like I'm re-thinking something from ten years ago. That just adds to the fact that I can't bring myself to really believe how much can change in a 30-day period.
Last month, I made a list of changes I was committed to - changes that would be made in a 30 day period. So, how did that work out?
In other words, the simple truth is that I accomplished more than I really believed was possible in a short period of time. More than that, I realized just how possible change is. And I can't wait to move forward even more.
I think there will always be some amount of conflict among the reasons why we start to blog - and, for that matter, whenever we make any decision. Starting this blog was, in part, to document life changes as they're happening, but the more that I think about what's been going on in my life, the more that there are other things that I want to write about creeping into the mix - and the more that I see this becoming a bigger project for me than just a collection of entries saying "this is me now, and this is what's going on."
The what's going on wraps up a little bit like this:
As these things go, every day seems to be a little bit better. The dull, flat feeling is fading, and my ability to focus is getting a little bit more reliable - which is a good thing, being at the office and all.
But what's interesting is that any sort of loss like this brings with it the impulse to get all reflective. Leaving something behind (or being left behind) pushes us to think a lot about what was good, a little bit about what wasn't, and a bit more about how different the future may or may not be.
What's even more interesting - at least to me - is how similar this feels to the way that I felt before I committed more to becoming me. This was brought into focus for me a bit more when reading these lines:
What it is like is pain. It is the pain of having your skin wrapped badly around your body, fitting awkwardly at best. Reminding you that everything is wrong whenever you move, whenever you go to the toilet, whenever you undress, whenever you shower, whenever you wake up, whenever you go to bed, whenever you see a mirror. It is a constant pain. Everything reminds you of it – the pronouns others use for you, the name others use for you. The clothes you wear.
It’s like living in a world where everything is made of sandpaper and it’s always grinding into your skin – your skin that does not fit your body.
Right now, things are starting to fit a little bit better - and the only thing on my 30 day list that I haven't taken a serious look at so far is saving for surgery that would help my skin to fit a little bit better. Some of my thoughts for the next battle in my quest for greater authenticity will help it to fit even more. But one of the things that really made me realize just how much has changed - funk set aside - was a restaurant experience yesterday.
The right fit, for me, means not getting questioning looks when I'm introduced or when I introduce myself as Zane. There are some restaurants that I just don't go to anymore because of the treatment I received from the staff earlier on; I could go into it, but I'll leave it at this: if you work in an industry where customer service is a part of your job and you look at some people as sub-human (and treat them that way), you're in the wrong field. However, this has led me to discover some favorite places - most notably the Dogfish Head Alehouse.
I go for the beer. I go for the food. I go because I like their slogan of "off-centered beers for off-centered people." I go because, with a couple of exceptions, the service is excellent, there's no one "type" of employee beyond upbeat and willing to make a connection. I because it's the kind of place where yesterday someone on the management team came over just to introduce himself because he'd seen us in there a few times in the last couple of months and wanted to thank us for the loyalty. I go because, when I'm there, I'm not worried about fitting into someone else's sense of whom I should be - I'm just able to be.
For a long time, being real hurt. For right now, moments hurt, but being real is starting to fit comfortably - and it's an amazing change.
I've never been a real big believer in time as something that moves linearly, so I guess it shouldn't be a shock to me that, rather than waiting two to six weeks, expecting calls from a judge, and a possible court date or flat-out rejection, when I grabbed the mail yesterday, there was an envelop from the courthouse waiting for me.
Scrap yesterday's update (though, of course, it remains relevant as a testimony to the transition process): I can officially scratch making it legal off of my bucket list. Sure, I still have the fun of going to the DMV and getting things changed there. I need to contact government agencies and make sure that everything is in order. I need to change the name on my lease, utility accounts, bank accounts, credit card accounts and probably 30 or 40 thousand other things that I haven't thought about yet, but the big deal legal change has been made. And the funny thing about it is that here I am: it's been about 15 hours since I found out and I'm still numb. I feel like something should be completely different, but everything is exactly the same. But I suppose what that says is that it's right. I suppose that what it says is that it's the right decision, that things have a way of working out, and that when you know that you're being true to yourself the real accomplishment is in the truth and not the documentation of it.But what has changed is far more subtle: now that this is out of the way, I know that I have a greater degree of freedom.Don't get me wrong, there are a thousand things to do that I'm not looking forward to. There are a lot of steps and a lot of obstacles. But I know that this one thing isn't weighing on me anymore - and that frees me up to think more about my community, to think about making lasting change, to look at what I really want to accomplish, to consider what I can do to make an impact, and to start going after the bigger goals - the things that I've put off because it just seemed like there wasn't a match.Seeing that there are folks who have started on their second 30 days already is even more motivation. Now that this is out of the way for me, now that I've seen real progress onmy additional goals as well, I'm left with the thought that there really isn't anything that can't be done when a mind is set on it, when people who otherwise wouldn't come together do (yay social media for that one), and when we become change agents who think about our surroundings as much as ourselves.Some days, writing seems like my top priority. Some days, I feel like everything has been turned inside out a little bit and that there's nothing I want to do less than pull up a blank page and try to chase down my thoughts so that I can put them on the page. Lately, I've been so focused on making changes - and have been so awed by the commitments to change that others have made - that writing, while a priority, has slipped through the cracks. Now that I'm about halfway through my first 30 day personal revolution, I'm realizing that just maybe I've been slacking.
But then, given my three-hour holiday at the courthouse earlier this week, slacking hasn't really been an issue.
Then again, holiday makes it seem like a better experience than it was. The summary looks something like this:
Since then, I've been anxious and strained. I keep looking at my phone, expecting it to ring with questions from a judge about "just what was meant" when I stated that the reason I wanted to change my name was "to match my gender identity and presentation." And, in the back of my mind, I keep fearing that rather than the approval being received in 2-6 weeks time, the verdict will be a resounding "that's not going to happen." I've been whispering "it's out of my hands" and "what happens happens" as a mantra. I've been pacing. Not really sleeping. I want to control this even though I know that I can't. However, I do know this: I've taken the biggest step possible toward accomplishing the greatest of my 30 day bucket list of goals.
"Yes, but. . ." You've heard it too. You've probably even said it. Sure, the circumstances might be different, but it's there.
Nowhere does it seem to be clearer to me than when it comes to gender roles - and yet, ultimately, it's the role part that gets me every time. Whether it's on the playground, in the classroom or in business, there are expectations. Sometimes, even though we talk about living in a post-racial society and a spot where there's gender equality, it even comes up as a topic of things that we need to work on doing a better job of explaining to our kids.
It's true - chemical makeups change things. I can definitely attest to this. The wiring of our brains matters. But there's also an extent to which one little checkbox leads to a whole lot of people being cast aside.
This weekend, I had one of those encounters than honestly makes me never want to be out in public again. I haven't had too many issues with being taken seriously even with the changes. My voice has dropped. My posture has changed. My demeanor has changed even more because I know that the expectations that others have do matter.
However, one thing that I know for sure is that being judged based on how well you fit into one box or another and the biases that go along with that sucks.
During this transition, I've only had three experiences that fall into the freakishly bad nightmare category:
I went home Saturday night, shaken. To say that I'm okay now would be an exaggeration because there are definitely still some things that I need to work out. One of them includes updated my ID - something that requires making it to the courthouse. Given the number of times that things have come up along the way, at this point, I'm thinking about taking that off of my to do list first thing tomorrow morning. Putting it off definitely isn't making it any easier.
Life has a funny way of steering us to where we need to be. I'm not always great at the day to day. Sometimes I flat out suck at being the person I hope people will remember. But I'm getting closer each day.
Life has a funny way of steering us to where we need to be. I'm not always great at the day to day. Sometimes I flat out suck at being the person I hope people will remember. But I'm getting closer each day.
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