The Journey So Far...

I was listening to a streaming service and I heard a song one day.  "Winter" by Tori Amos.  And as I was listening, something just struck me. It really got me in the feels, ya know? Well, after I stopped crying, I began writing this story in my head.  This story is kind of autobiographical.  That means that it evokes many things I have felt throughout certain phases in my life. It encompasses some things I wished had happened. And it uses tiny snippets of what did happen in a way little different than it did. Tori Amos' song is not about transition, nor is it in any way about my life.  But, many of the words and phrases do dovetail into my life experience very well when I listen to it. I hope she forgives me it's use for this. Without further ado, my story:  Winter. Winter : A child runs down the staircase, lit from the sun glistening on the fresh falls of snow outside.  It is a cold morning, but there are too many things to see; ...

I have been called out. Not personally, but I sure caught the message.  I have not made a statement specifically denouncing the transmedicalist or "truescum" ideology.  As a result, I am doing it now. Another trans blogger,  Sam Dylan Finch : WHY AREN’T MORE TRANS PEOPLE DENOUNCING TRUSCUM? , states pretty eloquently something more trans folx need to do; namely denouncing this ideology. So here is my statement: the only criteria for being transgender is a person has a gender different from that they were assigned at birth.  Full stop, no qualifiers, no exceptions. I am doing this because the views of the transmed people are directly causing harm to trans folx; they are part of the problem rather than a help.  There is nothing they say, tarnished by their ideology, that helps anyone. So you are a transmed, fine.  You think that the definition of transness is predicted on having dysphoria, wrong but you are entitled to being wrong.  But why do yo...

This journal is going to be a little meandering, and difficult at points, but ultimately I think it ends on a very positive note.  It is a processing journal because I think I process best when I can write things down. This journal is for me, but I am posting it publicly so maybe others may learn something of my experience, learn something of me, and maybe if something resonates with them, learn something of themself. I had an encounter with a friend a few days ago, and it has done so many things for me that I don’t know how to proceed.  So I shall write and think and process and maybe come out the other side with some growth. But first some history. I will never say transition was not good for me.  I will never say I shouldn’t have transitioned or that I will ever go back to the old way I was living.  But, despite how much I have said I was very lucky in how well my transition had gone and continues to go, it has not been a perfectly smooth and entirely ...

and, * = maybe? I have always had some amount of social anxiety.  "I don't people well" is the colloquialism I most often use. That, along with being an introvert, meant I didn't get out much.  And when I did, so many things would press in on me in social settings that I would find it hard to make any kind of connection.  So, asking people out from the few connections I had made was extra fraught with anxiety and fear.  Therefore I rarely did. Then I transitioned and embraced the true me that I had been hiding for so long.  With that transition, I was much more able to relax in social settings and go along with the flow.  I added other fears, but they were never quite as large as the constant self-policing that I needed to navigate the world from within many different closets.  I am still an introvert, but with the shedding of all my closets, the mental overhead of maintaining them was gone and so my ability to enjoy social occasions with a muc...

I had a news item cross my google front page the other day that one of my favorite musical artists has a new album out.  And, this renewed my love of her work.  It is only a compilation of live recordings, so no new content, but I loved the few live recordings I had heard previously. But, this blog post is not about the new album, per-se.  What this is about is the news reminded me how much I love her work and that I want others to know of it and love it too.  I was introduced to her music when I bought the soundtrack for the movie Strange Days.  It was heavy, and angry and frenetic and everything I love in a revolution song.  Selling Jesus was a commentary on the bankruptcy of the soul when you give in to the unholy alliance of religion and the oligarchs.  It spoke to my punk, counterculture, cynical, libertarian soul.  I needed more, so I began searching for her music. And, everything else I found of her work fits me so well too.  Hed...

Well, I told you so.  About a week after Arisia began, I am posting my part two, well after it is over.  It's ok though, because I had a very good, if busy, time.  I didn't really have time to sit and blog, because I was too busy doing.  Now I do have the time, so here we go. I had seven panels I was a panelist on.  This was a lot.  Not too much, but just on the edge of too much.  I had no more than three a day, and I didn't miss out on any events I had to see, though there were a few panels I did want to see, but couldn't because of my panelist duties.  But there is always something at a con like this that is at the same time as something else.  You can't see it all, and you have to get used to that idea if you want to have a good time. Also, when I first wrote, I said I had three panels I was moderator on.  That changed, and I had four instead.  The moderator to one of the panels had to cancel their attendance, and I was asked...

Well, lots of feels today.   I have just breezed into Boston for the highlight of my year.  And it is a mix, this year, of nostalgia, trepidation and excitement. Arisia is a SciFi convention in Boston every January, and I have been going here almost every year for about twenty, and sporadically since 1994 before that.  When I first came here it was the closest to feeling like home I had ever felt before.  It was an immediate feeling of comfort that dropped over me.  It didn't matter that I had hitchhiked halfway across the state with no lodging planned.   I got a membership, and for the next almost 48 hours I lived and breathed fandom.  The hotel this convention, my convention, used that year was the Park Plaza.   It was quirky, and a little run down, and just connected with me like no other.  As time went on, the convention grew and the Plaza didn't.  We moved a couple of times.  But, due to a union strike at our...