A strange week that seems to have slipped by far too fast. So much to do and even when not working full time I seem to have so little of it. Being a "mom" and home maker is also proving to take its toll on my working hours.
Emotionally up and down but no serious depression and I damn well hope it does not return.
Met with two girl friends this week one for lunch the other for coffee. Each is at different stages of their transition just behind me….wow suddenly I am the experienced one, what the heck happened.
Transition is a gift (a life saving one) but it is not cheap. No I am not talking about the not insubstantial cost of surgery…SRS…FFS…implants but the emotional, the relationships, jobs etc.
It is finally hitting me that "his" life is over and that the most important relationship is forever changed and finite. I knew it all along in my head but not my heart, I have the taste of ashes in my mouth.
It would make sense to play Bruce's the Price You Pay but that so so depressing I want to open a vein. No offence to his fans I am one too. Here is another tune with a slightly more upbeat sound if not message.
PS. Photo is me singing along....thank God this is not a VLOG.
Well while we are on a Bruce kick:
Tougher than the rest…the road is dark…
Now this is more my speed:
Open all night featuring a guy driving a first generation Cadillac Seville:
Well the unthinkable happened, no not split ends or a run in my last good pair of nylons, I was laid off Tuesday afternoon. There is an unfair shame in loosing your job, a feeling of worthlessness. I hate to even tell you dear constant reader….I want you to think me a successful woman but a blog like any diary should be about honesty.
I really believe I am psychic when it comes to job loss, over ten years ago I was laid off at the bank (found two jobs in a month or so….clearly a different time) and the day before I had a very ominous feeling about work. Same this time so I was not totally surprised and took it well without breaking down in tears…that came later.
Nothing to do with being transsexual, I am confident it was purely a business decision. The same one I would make if I had to.
Understanding is one thing, emotions are another. After I sat stunned in the parking lot for a good half an hour. I could hardly summon the energy to drive, I unsteadily piloted the Electra to a park by the lake where I could sit in silence and contemplate the speed hypothermia can kill. I Googled it later and it is quite an unpleasant way to die.
A beautiful pink and blue late afternoon sky, Canada geese flying south for the winter. The on coming tsunami of depression could be felt in every cell of my body but the cipralex I am on seemed to do a good job and prevented a full collapse.
I knew this job was a risk and I do not regret leaving my old one, it was a horrible environment that was killing me. This job was my ticket out and allowed me to transition. For that i am grateful.
In the very near past I was my job, it defined me, to loose that identity would have been traumatic. In the process of really becoming myself I have moved beyond what I do defining me and am surprised to find I am OK.
Ashley called we talked, would I go back, no the thought never crossed my mind. I AM April, to go back would be a lie. My experience full time has been brief but my confidence has grown immeasurably. It will be scary looking for a job as a woman but I will. It will be nice to start a new job (hopefully) as April with a lot less baggage.
"J" called we talked she gave me a wonderful pep talk, I waited a while longer said goodbye to Lake Ontario then drove home in silence.
The other day determined to make a nice dinner for the family I made a lovely Shepard's pie with fresh mushrooms, salad, french bread etc. Turns out I used some expired chicken broth. I had to throw it all away. I was so upset and had a bit of a breakdown all out of proportion to a ruined dinner. Clearly I was more upset about the job than I told myself.
So the blog continues to morph, the transition story continues, now I can also document the trials and tribulations of the job search process for a trans woman in the 21st century…..great googly moogily….stay tuned.
Times like these call for the blues, here is Johnny Lee Hooker with Boom Boom from my favourite movie of all time:
I had intended to post a buoyant post about Halloween but my mood has taken a bit of a downturn lately. I would not say that the euphoria of going full time has worn off it is just that the price we pay has become clearer.
I will leave those thought for later in the week and deal with the celebration of All Hallows Eve first.
For the first time since I was nine or ten I wore a costume. Despite Halloween being the perfectly acceptable and safe time to indulge in one's feminine side I never did. In all my closeted years I was never invited to or wished to attend a costume party. Nor would I have had the courage, as Jenny pointed out on her blog It would have been just too close to home and I would have been afraid someone could tell I was enjoying it a bit too much.
So this year I spent too much on a costume, a Fallen Angel, short black bodice dress with black wings and a black halo. Type casting perhaps?
My friend Genni who lives close by invited me to her Legion (Legion as in veterans and their relations, not the fallen angel sort of legion) Hall for a Halloween costume party dinner and dance. A number of Genni's friends at the Legion already knew about her. We were quite the pair, both in four inch heels (no I don't wear these normally….mostly flats now) and her in a beautiful Disney style Snow White costume complete with royal blue cape.
Funny I would have declined if I was not living full time. Needless to say we were one of the main topics of conversation and apparently the next day too. We were sitting with a group of women and I was applauding myself for seemingly passing when the lady beside me said I don't know how you guys do it in those heels. Perhaps she meant guys in the general sense. She seemed rather confused by me, especially when I told her I had children…I could almost see her brain working …..is that humanly possible?
Later in the evening an older lady whispered in Genni's ear, the table across the room was debating my genetic origins and she had been sent to find out the truth. Genni replied that I was a girl, she turned to her friends and said, "told you so". Ah victory is mine!
The dinner was very nice and I had a great time, everyone was friendly despite the curiosity.
Later we met up with our friend Dan at the Carrigan Arms, they had a live band all dressed as characters from the Wizard of Oz. A rather scary looking biker asked me to dance. He was not dressed as a biker he really was one. I was afraid he would not take kindly to any disappointment at finding I was not entirely kosher so to speak. So I asked him what he rode, a Harley of course, what model I asked, a full dresser, really I replied belt or chain drive? I think he got the hint. Was I chickening out, perhaps I should have danced with him.
Halloween night I was just April and tested my patience escort five girls around the neighbourhood trick or treating. Hope you like our pumpkins, the product of a few hours of carving Sunday afternoon. The vomiting one was my oldest daughter's idea.
Hugs,
April
The party is over boys so close those coffin lids....
I rarely feel regret at not transitioning earlier in my life. Of course I wished I had been born the right sex from day one, it would have prevented much pain and confusion for myself and others.
I cannot regret the life I lived, I did the best I could, I am lucky to have beautiful children that I would not have otherwise and to have experienced a close, loving and supportive relationship.
That relationship is evolving and an eventual separation will occur, nevertheless it has not ended in acrimony and hatred like so many "normal" marriages.
The past is the past and it is only the future I have the ability to change. Generally words I can live by but occasionally there is a longing for what I missed by living a good deal of my life as a male.
I recently received a copy of my old schools annual newsletter (about the size of a small paperback novel). I attended a boarding school in the UK with roots going back to the sixteenth century. When asked I usually described it as a cross between Tom Brown's School Days and Lord of the Flies. A very Victorian institution, it had a great deal of influence on me mostly for the good. And no you wisenheimers it is not the cause of my current predicament. It was there however that I began to realize the depths of my dysphoria.
As a child I hated it and was terribly homesick by my final year in the senior school I had come to accept it as my home.
The current issue featured article detailed the school's transition to being co-educational. Girls were only admitted beginning in the early seventies. By the time I arrived they were a distinct but entrenched minority. Reading about these pioneers and even recognizing a name or two was an odd sensation. Both a feeling of nostalgia and loss, reminding me that I am for now still something of an outsider looking in at the world of women.
Week Three
Life goes on as normal as possible, there are days I feel I pass better than others. I haven't had any unpleasant experiences.
One event of note was taking the children to swimming practice, they insisted on using the ladies changing area and not the family one. I was not going in the pool myself just seeing that they changed and made it to their classes on time. I have always used the female washroom when out but this was a more public experience and one where my presence if read could be construed as objectionable by some.
No one seemed to notice and I watched on deck until "J" relived me so I could get dinner going.
On a more light hearted note I was flirted with by the older gentleman cashier at the grocery store. He looked a bit like Santa Claus and offered me a candy. I have no intention of running off with him to the North Pole but it was rather validating and sweet.
I trust everyone out there in TV land will be glued to AMC this weekend to check out episode 2 of the second season of The Walking Dead. I caught a repeat of episode one on Sunday, of course watched alone in the dark. Very intense, you have been warned.
How many of you find your mind wandering to survival strategies for the upcoming zombie apocalypse….just me, jeez I knew I was weird.
Feeling very positive about transition. Not so much about work. I have proactive job, there is rarely a beginning, middle and end to anything I do. It has been hard to muster a lot of enthusiasm as the marketplace has been so unresponsive. Feeling a little too much like a zombie my self behind this desk. Hopefully I can regain my humanity over the weekend and fight back with new resolve Monday.
A few snapshots from going full time:
Took children and their friends to Mc Donalds for a treat, in the midst of trying to place the order my middle child says loudly Daddy I want….the three women behind the counter according my eldest daughter all exchanged puzzled looks. I continued like nothing happened. Oh well if they looked unsure that was likely a good sign that I passed the initial inspection.
9:30 am appraiser dropped by to see one of my cars for insurance purposes. I answer the door, is (insert male name here) at home? Playing it by ear I say no. Get the keys and answer a few questions, trying to speak about myself in the third person. Assume I passed, not sure.
The software I got to help with my voice turns out to be different from the one shown me at the voice clinic. Does not seem to display pitch while I am speaking. Annoying, anyone have any suggestions?
The dysphoria I used to feel when visiting a mall, seeing other women etc has almost dissipated. Sure I still want surgery, implants, FFS but much more at peace with myself. Liking more what I see in the mirror, finally reflecting who I really am inside.
Relearning how to speak, I am seeing a doctor in Toronto. It is up to me to make the effort to practice and change my voice. To avoid as little disruption to family and work I have scheduled my appointments as early as possible, 8:30 AM.
Monday morning was my first appointment, I had gone a few weeks earlier for testing and evaluation.
To make it on time means getting up at five am or earlier to beat the traffic and find a place to park. If Toronto is famous for anything it should be traffic congestion. I used to commute everyday by car so I know it has gotten worse and worse over the years.
Contemplating the large fuel bill for my 455 powered Buick and another twenty bucks for parking, "J"said why not take the train. Well yes I guess I could! I had avoided the train in the past because I didn't feel comfortable i.e. able to pass riding cheek by jowl with the rest of the city's bleary eyed work force.
I am full time now so just bite the bullet and do what not so long ago I would have considered unimaginable. Once again I erred on the conservative side dressing in jeans, flats black top and sweater. The trip was uneventful and no one gave me any funny looks despite sitting very close together in the rather cramped seats. I was surprised by the number of women waiting on the platform in skirts and heels, one very memorable Russian woman in leopard skin pumps.
Heels would have been nice but I had planned to walk from Union Station to the appointment and that might have been just a bit too far and too uncomfortable. Good thing too as I got a call to come to the studio as I was waiting for the train home enjoying a coffee and admiring the imposing imperial architecture of Union station.
Ditched the coffee and caught the subway north of the 401 to pick up an episode on hard drive to drop off at the other studio which is on the way to Niagara Falls. Another subway and train ride home. The subway was equally uneventful though I think the woman across from me may have suspected something. The guy besides me reading his e book certainly didn't.
By the time I got back to Union then the train home it was 1:30. Retrieved the Buick from the GO Train parking lot and headed west. Pulling off the highway I was followed closely by a police SUV almost all the way into the city, I turned right, he turned right, I turned left, he turned left…I started to get worried. I really thought he was going to pull me over (of course I had been exceeding the speed limit on the highway) eventually we parted company. I really think he was running my plate, strange woman in vintage car, sounds like trouble with a capital T.
At the studio I dropped off the hard drive and stuck around to say hello to my contact there, him, Hi what's new?. Me oh nothing much…this was the first time he had seen April and was nonchalant to the point of being comatose, rather funny really.
Almost finished two articles for a Canadian automotive magazine, one on the development of the 19681/2-1971 Lincoln Mark III and another on the history of the revived Stutz company in the seventies. My first commercial writing under the name of April!
Week two…wanted to post this earlier but all heck broke loose at work today.
Last week Ontario had a provincial election (my guy lost), of course ID is required to vote. The woman officiating at the polling station looked up from my drivers licence as said to her partner, no that is not right, I need yo see YOUR ID. I offered that I had a second piece of official identification if required, no I need YOUR ID, you gave me the wrong one. Finally I told her that yes that is me. Realization dawned slowly across her face and completely flustered she thrust me my ballot. Glancing back on my way out the door I caught her staring.
The neighbours on the street have been very nice, using the right name and even inviting me over for coffee. Whether I will be ever be accepted as one of the girls is uncertain. I recognize that it takes a while to accept fully such a profound change. I walk my youngest to school almost everyday and have not had a problem from children or teachers, though I do hear through the grapevine that some of the dads were uncomfortable.
Yesterday I had my first client meeting as April. Once again an epic drive into Toronto battling rain and traffic. Some very impatient and reckless drivers, amazed at some of the aggression on display (did that used to be me?). The Electra carried me safely through the maelstrom and consumed the entire $45 dollars of gas I put in the tank the day before.
It would be the first time my boss had met April in person so I dressed conservatively, dark blue dress pant like jeans, flats, a black and tan lace top and a light tan sweater, minimal jewellery. No skirt and heels today though it would have been appropriate for the meeting. As far as I can recall of the other two women in attendance, one wore a skirt and moderate heels the other pants. Boss was complimentary and only slightly freaked out ;)
I had been prepared to introduce myself and explain who I was in order that my situation not be a distraction in meeting (I had not met or corresponded with any of the participants prior). Turned out not to be necessary as my boss took the lead in the discussion. Overall a short meeting that saw us kicked up the food chain to the national management, so a return trip is hopefully in the cards.
The assistant who I had scheduled the meeting with didn't seem to guess who I was and asked where the "he" she had been dealing with by e-mail last couple of months was.
Another first would be working outside on the cars and gardening (mowing and raking…all the gardening I care to do) in full view of neighbours some of who even stopped by to talk. I felt rather self conscious at first as the automotive part is stereotypically seen as a male pursuit and in jeans, t-shirt and no makeup I didn't feel my most alluring. Installed a new Vintage stereo in my 76 Lincoln Mark IV.
My fear of going out has mostly evaporated as the demands of work and family mean I cannot hide away at home.
