I thought it was just Sunday but "J" told me I had been miserable, grumpy, out of sorts, well depressed for a week or two. Swearing, yelling, constantly on edge, not very lady like.
As my self imposed date for going full time approaches I have been consumed by fear and doubt but mostly fear. On a long walk to clear my head Sunday night I tried to wrestle with my demons. Walking walking, questioning who and what I am and is this the only way forward. I thought I had permanently put these thoughts to bed.
Could I not transition? ( Stop me if you heard this before) I could stop I am strong I might survive. If my life depended on it, I could likely do it but I would be miserable and how long I would last I don't know.
As I walked I asked myself a series of questions;
Would I stop taking hormones?
Would I stop taking the anti-androgens?
Would I purge my wardrobe of clothes, shoes, make up anything feminine?
Would I drift away slowly from my new friends, never to talk to them again?
Would what ever happened to April be a question asked less and less frequently? Whatever happened to her, she does not return our calls or e-mails I wonder what happened? Fading away in memory until April herself had died. To let the real authentic part of me die.
...the answer was NO to all of the above.
So a little more confident today, bring trans is just a lot for a middle class, suburban, white "male" conservative to digest.
A big part is fear, fear of going full time, fear of being the but of everyones jokes. Fear of being pointed and laughed at, for someone who put so much stock in the opinions of others it is a hard thing to do despite the claims to march to my own drummer. Underneath we are scared children just wishing to fit in.
It seems a very Japanese emotion, fear of loosing face. The idea of walking out and proclaiming that I am transsexual that I am becoming a woman is just damn scary.
Another thing that threw me off track is that it has been a very busy month for cars. The entire winter went by where I did little more than drive them, freeing me to concentrate on transition. The last month has been full of car stuff, the Corvette suspension upgrade, filming the Corvette for a TV segment, getting the 72 Lincoln Mark IV out of storage and preparing the Jaguar XJS for sale. Deciding which cars to sell going from ten to a more manageable five or so.
The only time I was comfortable being a guy was when I was working on cars all those thoughts in my head would be banished by where did I put that torque wrench, is that a vacuum leak, I need to rebuild this carb. etc etc. Emerging from the garage covered in grease and sweat, that was my male badge of honour, no one could ever question that I was not a real guy through and through.
I like the song lucky guy by The Muffs, my band du jour. I know that I am reading my own meaning into the song but what I hear her singing about is the normal cis gendered guy, the guy who gets up each morning with a light heart, who gets up each morning knowing who he is and where he is going. The rest of us own wish for such certainty. When Kim (formerly of the Pandoras) sings with such passion, I can hear the anger and envy in her voice. Here they are live in Japan, check out the official video as well:
