It's been one of those long stretches where I don't blog anything for a month, and I'm sorry for that. I also haven't been very good at making and posting videos either. Oops.
I realize that not everyone may be incredibly interested in my navel-gazing around the actual physical changes of transitioning. I totally get that, so I'm gonna start putting stuff like that at the end of posts. I'm still going to include it because I want a record for the future, and it's important to me to mark something that's fairly monumental in my life. In addition, before I started hormones and was first thinking about transitioning, I went online and read other transfolks' blogs like crazy to see what taking hormones was like. Hell, I still search out other transguys blogs and videos to see how fast things change. So if reading about my voice changes, acne, and all of that isn't exactly your cup of tea no worries.
I finished up my year with LC/NA, my Lutheran Volunteer Corps position, on a very strong note. For those of you living outside the Lutheran bubble, the ELCA Churchwide Assembly voted to change policy and allow people in publicly accountable, life-long, monogamous same-gender relationships to become rostered clergy. It was a pretty incredible moment to witness.
Aside from my job, the end of my LVC year was good. I really enjoyed living with my housemates, and I'm pleased that four of the five of us are in the Twin Cities this year. Over the course of the year they became more than just roommates and friends, and we built a strong community together. I'm pleased to count them among people I call family. Frankly, in some ways the end of the year felt anti-climactic. Moving out of Beth Shalom almost felt more like going on a vacation. Going back to lead snack and yak was really one of the first moments that it sunk in on a more visceral level that my LVC year was done. Even so, it wasn't sadness or disappointment or nostalgia. It was more a feeling of a closing of one chapter of my life and the beginning of another.
I do have a job, but frankly, I don't like it. It's at a company that does third party administration of benefits for companies. I don't totally know what's going on and what I'm supposed to be doing. It seems like I push a lot of paper. In addition, I'm having a hard time on the pronoun/gender identity front. I get tired of correcting the same people. I also get tired of the general sense of unease that my coworkers have when I join conversations and talk about Becky in the same way they talk about their spouses. The closed off body language, the refusal to make eye contact with me, the silence when I enter and the buzz of conversation when I leave a room. It wears down on you. And I haven't even been working here for a full pay period yet.
Needless to say, I'm looking for another job. I've set a deadline and if I don't find a job by then, I'm going to resign. It's not worth it for me to continue in a job that I don't care about, in an industry that sustains unequal access to healthcare, around people that don't share my values and aren't open to conversation, and that I come from completely drained emotionally. I want a job that I can work hard at and feel good about.
I'm feeling incredibly stressed and nervous about health insurance. I've been putting off going in for bloodwork because I can't pay it out of pocket, I also can't fill my prescription out of pocket. I won't be out of T really soon, but I'm still getting anxious. The prospect of potentially being slammed with a pre-existing condition is bad enough, but worrying about what happens if I am actually ill and can't get coverage for something unrelated to being trans has also been haunting me. Granted, a lot of that is me worrying about the worst possible scenario. Even so, insurance has been complicating my relationship with my job/job search.
On the transition front, I'm about to finish up my 15th week on testosterone. Changes I've noticed:
- My voice is continuing to drop, and I feel it more in my chest when I'm talking. It's this really pleasant feeling of the sound vibrating more through my chest, just like there's a lot more space.
- I'm growing a lot more body hair. In particular, I've got more underarm hair and more leg hair, and I'm starting to grow more hair on my lower belly.
- I smell more, and not always in pleasant ways.
- In a related vein, I need to be really diligent about washing my face because I am getting acne that is worse than what I had the first time around. Puberty 1.0 I had a few whiteheads and mostly blackheads that were easy to get rid of. Puberty 2.0 I'm getting that annoying angry red acne on my cheeks and along my jaw.
- More muscle mass in my shoulders/arms, which is nice, and helps me feel better about my body.
- More physical energy, and also mental/emotional energy.
- I generally feel better about life, and I feel a lot more stable internally. I'm happier, even with the crappy job I have.
Changes other people have commented on:
- My voice, which is good to know it's not just in my head.
- My face is starting to look more angular.
- My hips are becoming less curvy, more angular. This is really extremely exciting, and after it was pointed out to me I definitely noticed it more, and with great excitement.
- Becky pointed out to me (in a very tactful, nice way) that while I haven't been getting angry or short with anyone else, I've been a lot harder on myself. If I can't get something right the first time, or quickly, I've gotten frustrated by it. This is something I want to be mindful of and correct. I'm glad I haven't gotten short with anyone else, thank goodness, and I want to keep it that way. I want to continue practicing patience and calmness.
Here's my most recent video, it's from my 12th week on testosterone, you can definitely tell there my voice has been dropping, exciting!
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Showing posts with label family. Show all posts
Monday, September 14, 2009
Monday, June 15, 2009
New Blog Shout Out
Any of you familiar with my musical endeavors, or my intentional family from Decorah (aka "the fam") may have heard of or know my dear friend and fellow musician Sumner. Sumner has just started up an awesome new blog about eating and living sustainably and locally.
The first blog post is thought-provokingly excellent. If you're interested in sustainability, local living and activism, it's bound to a be a good read. Even if you're not particularly interested in sustainability, help support queer blogging and check it out. Sumner is a great writer and I promise it'll be an enjoyable experience.
http://aintnoyellowbrickroad.blogspot.com
The first blog post is thought-provokingly excellent. If you're interested in sustainability, local living and activism, it's bound to a be a good read. Even if you're not particularly interested in sustainability, help support queer blogging and check it out. Sumner is a great writer and I promise it'll be an enjoyable experience.
http://aintnoyellowbrickroad.blogspot.com
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
phone voice
When we were little, my brother and I noted something interesting about our mother. She could be irritated, sad or tired yet without fail when she answered the phone she summoned up this bright, enthusiastic "Hello! This is Sally" followed by an "oh hi!" when the person on the other end identified themselves. We jokingly called it "phone voice" and being the delightful little children we were would mock her for it. Please note the heavy sarcasm. I'm trying to remember to apologize to my parents when I remember some of the things I did as a child that were really extremely obnoxious or rude.
Nonetheless. I work in an office, and many of my friends don't live close enough that I can have long conversations with them in person so I've been talking on the phone more this year. And I realized that I've developed "phone voice." I inadvertently pitch my voice higher, especially when I'm talking to my family, people I don't know very well, or people I haven't talked to in a while. I do a better job staying within my "normal" voice when I'm on the phone with close friends.
There's a couple things that I've been chewing over about this.
1) The fact that I unconsciously pitch my voice higher on the phone sometimes.
2) The fact that I consistently to pitch my voice lower intentionally.
3) The fact that I let it bother me.
Does it really matter what my voice sounds like in the long run? I've done my fair share of transgender navel-gazing. I self-criticize the way I walk, the way I set my shoulders, tuck my butt, minimize hip swaying, try to wear certain types of pants a certain way, layer shirts, choose shirts based on how they fall from the shoulder. I am almost constantly aware of how I hold my hands, cross my legs, tilt my head, suck in the gut. I will stand in front of a mirror and deliberate on different ways of walking to see what hides my hips most. I'll observe my posture, from different angles.
Yes on some level this is what almost all of us do. We all pick out clothes that we feel good in, we observe what we look like. Sometimes I feel like I take it a little overboard and I try to let go.
Back to the "phone voice" then. It bothers me that I do it, because I feel like the phone is one of those places where the only thing people have to go on is my name and my voice. And Dylan isn't really all that feminine of a name, I feel. I know it can be a boy or a girl name but still. Not like Amy. I guess it wouldn't bother me if I didn't pass on the phone in and of itself. I think what is frustrating is that I hear myself modulating higher than I typically talk and I have to sometimes constantly think about my voice.
Anyways. It was just an interesting observation. And won't really be pertinent for long since my estimated start time for hormones is April. In the meantime, if I'm on the phone with you, please don't bring it up. I'm just trying to ignore it.
Nonetheless. I work in an office, and many of my friends don't live close enough that I can have long conversations with them in person so I've been talking on the phone more this year. And I realized that I've developed "phone voice." I inadvertently pitch my voice higher, especially when I'm talking to my family, people I don't know very well, or people I haven't talked to in a while. I do a better job staying within my "normal" voice when I'm on the phone with close friends.
There's a couple things that I've been chewing over about this.
1) The fact that I unconsciously pitch my voice higher on the phone sometimes.
2) The fact that I consistently to pitch my voice lower intentionally.
3) The fact that I let it bother me.
Does it really matter what my voice sounds like in the long run? I've done my fair share of transgender navel-gazing. I self-criticize the way I walk, the way I set my shoulders, tuck my butt, minimize hip swaying, try to wear certain types of pants a certain way, layer shirts, choose shirts based on how they fall from the shoulder. I am almost constantly aware of how I hold my hands, cross my legs, tilt my head, suck in the gut. I will stand in front of a mirror and deliberate on different ways of walking to see what hides my hips most. I'll observe my posture, from different angles.
Yes on some level this is what almost all of us do. We all pick out clothes that we feel good in, we observe what we look like. Sometimes I feel like I take it a little overboard and I try to let go.
Back to the "phone voice" then. It bothers me that I do it, because I feel like the phone is one of those places where the only thing people have to go on is my name and my voice. And Dylan isn't really all that feminine of a name, I feel. I know it can be a boy or a girl name but still. Not like Amy. I guess it wouldn't bother me if I didn't pass on the phone in and of itself. I think what is frustrating is that I hear myself modulating higher than I typically talk and I have to sometimes constantly think about my voice.
Anyways. It was just an interesting observation. And won't really be pertinent for long since my estimated start time for hormones is April. In the meantime, if I'm on the phone with you, please don't bring it up. I'm just trying to ignore it.
Wednesday, January 7, 2009
First Therapy Session
Therapy has begun! I had my first session on Monday afternoon. I ducked out of work early, went home and changed and had some lunch, then hopped on the bus. Stopped at the library to return some books and pay my library fines so the SPPL book police stop chasing me then went to May Day Cafe for fortification in the form of tasty scone before heading over to the appointment.
My therapist's office is in the basement of the house he and some other people live in. You go down the stairs at the side entrance, fill out a form sitting at the bottom of the stairs, then wait for him to show. I was a little early to fill out my insurance information. I'm still a little nervous that insurance won't cover, however I think that's a little silly. I got the necessary permission prior to having the appointment, so it should all go through. I think in general I'm just a little skittish about insurance.
Anyways. We did general first therapy session stuff, talked about how I was feeling, how I was doing in general. Talked about my living situation, my family. Any medications I was on, any hospitalizations. We talked about whether or not I had ever been suicidal or had tried to commit suicide. Talked about the times I've felt most depressed in my life.
Then went on to talk about sexuality and gender identity stuff. When I first noticed gender and sexuality. I talked about my childhood, how my brother and I were really close when I was young and that changed at puberty. How menstruation and puberty sucked in general. How I hated having to wear a bra in 6th grade and how my mom would make me wear one to school and I'd take it off and shove it in my locker in the morning and put it on again before I went home and would wear baggy clothes. How in 8th grade I would completely break down and cry in department stores because of all the mirrors and having to look at myself. Fights about wearing dresses to church. Then the session came to an end.
I really liked him. He is very easy to talk to, and I am comforted that he has experience doing therapy with trans people. I don't feel like I need to educate him about the issues, which is a big relief. I have my next two appointments already scheduled, so hopefully I'll know soon what the general time line for hormones will be. I'm excited, I feel like I'm actually making progress and finally doing something tangible to get rid of these damn breasts and start living in the world as I want to.
My therapist's office is in the basement of the house he and some other people live in. You go down the stairs at the side entrance, fill out a form sitting at the bottom of the stairs, then wait for him to show. I was a little early to fill out my insurance information. I'm still a little nervous that insurance won't cover, however I think that's a little silly. I got the necessary permission prior to having the appointment, so it should all go through. I think in general I'm just a little skittish about insurance.
Anyways. We did general first therapy session stuff, talked about how I was feeling, how I was doing in general. Talked about my living situation, my family. Any medications I was on, any hospitalizations. We talked about whether or not I had ever been suicidal or had tried to commit suicide. Talked about the times I've felt most depressed in my life.
Then went on to talk about sexuality and gender identity stuff. When I first noticed gender and sexuality. I talked about my childhood, how my brother and I were really close when I was young and that changed at puberty. How menstruation and puberty sucked in general. How I hated having to wear a bra in 6th grade and how my mom would make me wear one to school and I'd take it off and shove it in my locker in the morning and put it on again before I went home and would wear baggy clothes. How in 8th grade I would completely break down and cry in department stores because of all the mirrors and having to look at myself. Fights about wearing dresses to church. Then the session came to an end.
I really liked him. He is very easy to talk to, and I am comforted that he has experience doing therapy with trans people. I don't feel like I need to educate him about the issues, which is a big relief. I have my next two appointments already scheduled, so hopefully I'll know soon what the general time line for hormones will be. I'm excited, I feel like I'm actually making progress and finally doing something tangible to get rid of these damn breasts and start living in the world as I want to.
Tuesday, December 2, 2008
Updates from Youtube!
My wonderful friend over at jadedjabber pointed out I should embed my youtube videos. So here goes! A brief introduction from early october, then an update from a few days after that about my visit with my dad.
Sunday, July 13, 2008
Facebook is stupid.
Last week after I got home from Hearts on Fire I finally got up the nerve to change my name on facebook. I had been putting it off for some time because my siblings, father, and some people from my parents congregation are all friends with me on facebook and I didn't want to cause any massive freakouts and whatnot. I got back to town and was doing the whole "look for people I just met on facebook" thing. I must've been on some sort of LC/NA HoF induced high because I decided that it would be a brilliant idea to just change my name, and hope that either a) no one noticed or b) someone would ask me and we'd have this deep, connected conversation where they would instantly understand trans issues and be completely supportive of me.
Needless to say, neither of these things happened. Instead, Wednesday when I was at work hanging out with Rex I called up my mother to ask her if she had found the star wars soundtrack at home so I could make a copy for Rex to listen to while we played star wars. No, she did not find the soundtrack. However my father (of all people) noticed that I changed my name to Dylan on facebook. She proceeded to become very upset, inform me that my parents don't support me in this, that my insurance policy is still under Amy, and that I shouldn't be changing my name on facebook because it's not true. Also, I was informed that I need to tell my parents at every step of the way every little decision I make concerning transition. In addition, she went off on Thomas Beatie (aka the Pregnant Man) and how that was confusing and was "it" a man or a woman, and that it just wasn't natural. Basically, I think she needed to vent a lot of her frustration and confusion.
However, I was at work. I was tired, I had been sick the day before, and I didn't really expect my parents to notice that I changed my name on facebook before my siblings did. I should've responded better than I did. My response was initially to explain that I know my insurance and legal documentation is all under Amy, but facebook is a social networking site and I want to socially network in my preferred name. What threw me was her launching into the diatribe about Thomas Beatie, and the fact that my mother, who I typically consider to be a very intelligent woman, hadn't taken the time to get past the sensationalistic aspect of the story and was trying to compare my experience to his experience. In the end, I got defensive with my mother, and told her I couldn't continue the conversation because I was defensive and unable to be open to talking with her.
I get frustrated because I don't know how to not feel attacked when I talk to my parents about trans issues. I also get frustrated because I feel like I have to be more calm, collected, and informed than my parents. In addition, I get frustrated because I feel like I have to continually be educating my parents. I give them information, books, websites, and pamphlets, but it seems like they don't take the initiative to read them or discuss them with me.
In the end, my slightly immature solution was to unfriend my father, siblings, cousins, and church folk on facebook. I probably should've just left everything as is, because people are going to learn about it eventually anyways. It just seemed the easier route to take at the time when I was upset and angry.
I don't know how to handle talking with my family about transition gracefully.
Needless to say, neither of these things happened. Instead, Wednesday when I was at work hanging out with Rex I called up my mother to ask her if she had found the star wars soundtrack at home so I could make a copy for Rex to listen to while we played star wars. No, she did not find the soundtrack. However my father (of all people) noticed that I changed my name to Dylan on facebook. She proceeded to become very upset, inform me that my parents don't support me in this, that my insurance policy is still under Amy, and that I shouldn't be changing my name on facebook because it's not true. Also, I was informed that I need to tell my parents at every step of the way every little decision I make concerning transition. In addition, she went off on Thomas Beatie (aka the Pregnant Man) and how that was confusing and was "it" a man or a woman, and that it just wasn't natural. Basically, I think she needed to vent a lot of her frustration and confusion.
However, I was at work. I was tired, I had been sick the day before, and I didn't really expect my parents to notice that I changed my name on facebook before my siblings did. I should've responded better than I did. My response was initially to explain that I know my insurance and legal documentation is all under Amy, but facebook is a social networking site and I want to socially network in my preferred name. What threw me was her launching into the diatribe about Thomas Beatie, and the fact that my mother, who I typically consider to be a very intelligent woman, hadn't taken the time to get past the sensationalistic aspect of the story and was trying to compare my experience to his experience. In the end, I got defensive with my mother, and told her I couldn't continue the conversation because I was defensive and unable to be open to talking with her.
I get frustrated because I don't know how to not feel attacked when I talk to my parents about trans issues. I also get frustrated because I feel like I have to be more calm, collected, and informed than my parents. In addition, I get frustrated because I feel like I have to continually be educating my parents. I give them information, books, websites, and pamphlets, but it seems like they don't take the initiative to read them or discuss them with me.
In the end, my slightly immature solution was to unfriend my father, siblings, cousins, and church folk on facebook. I probably should've just left everything as is, because people are going to learn about it eventually anyways. It just seemed the easier route to take at the time when I was upset and angry.
I don't know how to handle talking with my family about transition gracefully.
Monday, March 17, 2008
so i realize i've kinda been on a hiatus..
So far this semester I realize that I've mostly just blogged for my class. In case any of you were confused by some of my recent entries, that's what's going on. I'm using this blog as a digital format to do some of my journaling for a women and gender studies course I'm taking called "confronting the border." So feel free to disregard those entries if I'm referencing readings from class and whatnot. Hell, feel free to disregard any of my entries.
Anyways. The hiatus was because I was overwhelmed by life and didn't even really have any time to blog about it. Which isn't a good sign, but that's ok. I've been working on my senior paper because I 'm presenting it in two weekends at the Midwest Sociological Society Meeting. That's been a little crazy. In addition, it just seems like February was ridiculously busy with conferences and events and so on.
Also, I've been thinking a lot of being trans, surgery, hormones, all of that stuff. I mean, I am writing my senior paper on FTMs construction of their identity, so I get to think about all of this academically AND in my spare time when I'm freaking out about who I am.
I've decided that I do want to start hormones as soon as possible. As some of you know (mainly those of you who probably know me in life outside the internet), I've gone back and forth about hormones for a while. I've come to the conclusion that part of the reason I was waiting on hormones was because I didn't know how to deal with my family. I still don't know how to deal with my family, but I can't put their comfort before mine. And I don't want to get to be 30 years old and still in this body as it is. It'd kinda be like being the 40 year old virgin. Except in a trans context.. maybe the metaphor doesn't actually work. You decide on your own. Spring break, I'm laying it on the table for my parents. Telling them that this is what I need to do, that I can't put it off anymore. I'm still not sure how to talk to Rob and Natalie about it. Probably something along the same lines, except without the insurance coverage implications.
Now, I just need the insurance company to actually tell me what is and isn't covered under my insurance plan. I need to deal with the fact that my insurance will be changing, getting loans, talking with my immediate and extended family, trying to get letters with the minimal amount of money spent on therapy. Maybe I'm just egotistical, but I feel like I'm pretty well balanced. I think it's ridiculous that I need to pay a ridiculous amount of money for someone to confirm that I am indeed mentally stable and indeed should have hormones. Really, the whole thing kinda makes me want to cry. One of those good, exhausting cries where you can just get it all out and feel better.
Sorry if this was a bit of a disjointed post. I've just been feeling kinda weird lately, and realized I've been keeping a lot of stuff inside and not talking about it. So I'm working on that. Friends, if I've been standoff-ish lately, or held you at a distance emotionally, it's not you. I apologize and I'm working on it. I do appreciate every one of you for being supportive, caring and letting me grow and change. Now, I am off to counseling services to schedule a much needed and delayed appointment with Stu. Woo.
Anyways. The hiatus was because I was overwhelmed by life and didn't even really have any time to blog about it. Which isn't a good sign, but that's ok. I've been working on my senior paper because I 'm presenting it in two weekends at the Midwest Sociological Society Meeting. That's been a little crazy. In addition, it just seems like February was ridiculously busy with conferences and events and so on.
Also, I've been thinking a lot of being trans, surgery, hormones, all of that stuff. I mean, I am writing my senior paper on FTMs construction of their identity, so I get to think about all of this academically AND in my spare time when I'm freaking out about who I am.
I've decided that I do want to start hormones as soon as possible. As some of you know (mainly those of you who probably know me in life outside the internet), I've gone back and forth about hormones for a while. I've come to the conclusion that part of the reason I was waiting on hormones was because I didn't know how to deal with my family. I still don't know how to deal with my family, but I can't put their comfort before mine. And I don't want to get to be 30 years old and still in this body as it is. It'd kinda be like being the 40 year old virgin. Except in a trans context.. maybe the metaphor doesn't actually work. You decide on your own. Spring break, I'm laying it on the table for my parents. Telling them that this is what I need to do, that I can't put it off anymore. I'm still not sure how to talk to Rob and Natalie about it. Probably something along the same lines, except without the insurance coverage implications.
Now, I just need the insurance company to actually tell me what is and isn't covered under my insurance plan. I need to deal with the fact that my insurance will be changing, getting loans, talking with my immediate and extended family, trying to get letters with the minimal amount of money spent on therapy. Maybe I'm just egotistical, but I feel like I'm pretty well balanced. I think it's ridiculous that I need to pay a ridiculous amount of money for someone to confirm that I am indeed mentally stable and indeed should have hormones. Really, the whole thing kinda makes me want to cry. One of those good, exhausting cries where you can just get it all out and feel better.
Sorry if this was a bit of a disjointed post. I've just been feeling kinda weird lately, and realized I've been keeping a lot of stuff inside and not talking about it. So I'm working on that. Friends, if I've been standoff-ish lately, or held you at a distance emotionally, it's not you. I apologize and I'm working on it. I do appreciate every one of you for being supportive, caring and letting me grow and change. Now, I am off to counseling services to schedule a much needed and delayed appointment with Stu. Woo.
Saturday, January 26, 2008
last jterm ever
I finished my last day of jterm ever today. Woohoo! I'm pretty excited about it. The class went well, even if it did drag during the discussions. The ride home today was rough. We were stuck in stop and go traffic for a long time. My lower back started freaking out on me. It's been rather upset lately, what with the cold, ace bandaging and sitting in the car. I should probably ease up on the ace bandages, and order a new binder already, as has been pointed out to me more than once in the past few days. =)
Anyways, it's just my parents and I at home this weekend. My brother is back to college and my sister is traveling with friends. It's strange, after you grow up with these two other people, always being around them, knowing what's going on in their lives, sneaking into each others rooms in the middle of the night to talk, then suddenly you're in college, and we don't really talk anymore. I think part of why I feel distant from my family is that I don't know how to talk to them about being queer. When I first came out I was terrified of being rejected, and I just let so many things go unsaid. I've never actually spoken to my brother and sister about it. They know that I prefer dating women, my mother and I have talked about the fact that they know. I'm pretty sure they don't know I want to cut off my breasts though. I often feel like being at home puts a "don't ask don't tell" policy into effect in my life. Part of that is my fault though. I don't make the effort to open up to my family, to let them in to that part of my life. I am the one that keeps jumping back into my role as Amy, the oldest daughter, the older sister, instead of just being who I've become in the past four years.
Since my brother and sister aren't home, I've resolved to sit down and talk with my parents. I want to tell them I've picked out a new name. I also want to reiterate that I want surgery, and that I am already planning for it. I would also like to ask them for a very small loan so I can purchase a new binder. As I mentioned before, the ace bandage is not treating my body well and I shouldn't do that to myself.
On a completely different topic, I watched the movie Gray Matters this evening. Woo netflix. It's a decent movie. Much better than many "lesbian movies" in the world. And Rachel Shelley is in it and that's great. I think she's hot. She's not a main character, but that's perfectly ok with me. I was actually planning on going to sleep and watching the movie tomorrow. But after laying in bed with the lights off for 45 minutes without even feeling tired I decided to just watch the movie.
Interesting fact from my life, it seems that every time I come back to Milwaukee, I have a hard time falling asleep the first few nights. Maybe it's just sleeping in a different place. Or maybe it's because I usually resolve to talk to my parents/family and then get worked up about it and psyche myself out. One of my friends told me I over analyze sometimes. That's probably true. Actually, I know it's true. Luckily it's also true that I only over analyze sometimes. I'm starting to ramble. Here's to take two of trying to fall asleep.
Anyways, it's just my parents and I at home this weekend. My brother is back to college and my sister is traveling with friends. It's strange, after you grow up with these two other people, always being around them, knowing what's going on in their lives, sneaking into each others rooms in the middle of the night to talk, then suddenly you're in college, and we don't really talk anymore. I think part of why I feel distant from my family is that I don't know how to talk to them about being queer. When I first came out I was terrified of being rejected, and I just let so many things go unsaid. I've never actually spoken to my brother and sister about it. They know that I prefer dating women, my mother and I have talked about the fact that they know. I'm pretty sure they don't know I want to cut off my breasts though. I often feel like being at home puts a "don't ask don't tell" policy into effect in my life. Part of that is my fault though. I don't make the effort to open up to my family, to let them in to that part of my life. I am the one that keeps jumping back into my role as Amy, the oldest daughter, the older sister, instead of just being who I've become in the past four years.
Since my brother and sister aren't home, I've resolved to sit down and talk with my parents. I want to tell them I've picked out a new name. I also want to reiterate that I want surgery, and that I am already planning for it. I would also like to ask them for a very small loan so I can purchase a new binder. As I mentioned before, the ace bandage is not treating my body well and I shouldn't do that to myself.
On a completely different topic, I watched the movie Gray Matters this evening. Woo netflix. It's a decent movie. Much better than many "lesbian movies" in the world. And Rachel Shelley is in it and that's great. I think she's hot. She's not a main character, but that's perfectly ok with me. I was actually planning on going to sleep and watching the movie tomorrow. But after laying in bed with the lights off for 45 minutes without even feeling tired I decided to just watch the movie.
Interesting fact from my life, it seems that every time I come back to Milwaukee, I have a hard time falling asleep the first few nights. Maybe it's just sleeping in a different place. Or maybe it's because I usually resolve to talk to my parents/family and then get worked up about it and psyche myself out. One of my friends told me I over analyze sometimes. That's probably true. Actually, I know it's true. Luckily it's also true that I only over analyze sometimes. I'm starting to ramble. Here's to take two of trying to fall asleep.
Friday, December 14, 2007
drive through banking
I have to say that the best part of my day was when I went to deposit my paychecks at the bank in the drive through. I drive up, put my deposit slip and checks into the little canister, they whoosh away and the bank teller does her bank teller thing. On a sidenote, when I was little I thought the whooshing canister system was the coolest thing ever. It seemed like something out of a fantasy/sci-fi book and I wanted one in our house so my brother and I could zoom messages to each other.
Anyways, so the bank teller gets me stuff out, gets the cash back for me and says "is there anything else I can do for you today?"
"No, that's all, thank you"
"Is Amy in the car with you, sir?"
"No, that's me.."
At this point the bank teller, stands up and kinda peers over the edge of the counter inside the bank, looks at me really hard, and you can see the lightbulbs going off in her head.
"Oh! Well, I'm sorry, you know these intercoms and all... well.. have a nice day!"
I pull away, laughing extremely hard. I'm pretty sure the people in the lane next to me thought I was a little psychotic.
I also had a really good conversation with my sister today. She just got her temporary license and she likes to drive whenever she can. My parents are going out to dinner this evening with some friends, so Natalie and I went to subway for dinner, then got coffee at Starbucks before driving over to drop her off at her friend's house. Anyways, we talked and had a real conversation. About Rob, about driving, about alcohol and drugs actually, about the boy she dated for three weeks this summer (woah high school drama), and about our parents. It was really enjoyable because usually all I can get out of her are monosyllabic answers or rants about "why do you have to be so weird."
I'll leave you with some direct quotes from our conversation. =)
Natalie: Your shifter is so difficult to use sometimes.
Me: It's easier if you hold it from the bottom instead of manhandling it from the top.
N: I like manhandling things
Me: You would.
N: I am like, all over your car.
And then we don't get out coherent words for a few minutes cause we are laughing too much.
Anyways, so the bank teller gets me stuff out, gets the cash back for me and says "is there anything else I can do for you today?"
"No, that's all, thank you"
"Is Amy in the car with you, sir?"
"No, that's me.."
At this point the bank teller, stands up and kinda peers over the edge of the counter inside the bank, looks at me really hard, and you can see the lightbulbs going off in her head.
"Oh! Well, I'm sorry, you know these intercoms and all... well.. have a nice day!"
I pull away, laughing extremely hard. I'm pretty sure the people in the lane next to me thought I was a little psychotic.
I also had a really good conversation with my sister today. She just got her temporary license and she likes to drive whenever she can. My parents are going out to dinner this evening with some friends, so Natalie and I went to subway for dinner, then got coffee at Starbucks before driving over to drop her off at her friend's house. Anyways, we talked and had a real conversation. About Rob, about driving, about alcohol and drugs actually, about the boy she dated for three weeks this summer (woah high school drama), and about our parents. It was really enjoyable because usually all I can get out of her are monosyllabic answers or rants about "why do you have to be so weird."
I'll leave you with some direct quotes from our conversation. =)
Natalie: Your shifter is so difficult to use sometimes.
Me: It's easier if you hold it from the bottom instead of manhandling it from the top.
N: I like manhandling things
Me: You would.
N: I am like, all over your car.
And then we don't get out coherent words for a few minutes cause we are laughing too much.
Sunday, December 9, 2007
oh the weather
I really miss the sun. I mean, the sun still rises every day and all that, but I miss having more sunlight in the day. This weekend I've really just felt like sleeping all the time, and I've been feeling grouchy. It's probably also a combination of the end of the semester, going home, feeling stressed, all that stuff.
Speaking of going home, I'm a little nervous about it. I love my family, don't get me wrong. I believe that part of my anxiety about it is that I feel my parents think I'm just going through a tranny phase. I feel like I have to keep bringing it up with them, and I don't really know how. I don't know how to talk to them about it. I understand they need time to adjust and all, but that doesn't make it any easier. I still feel kind of invisible to them. Not to mention, I want to tell them that I've picked out a name. I want to tell my brother and my sister, but I can't imagine that they would take it well. Rob might be ok with it, but Natalie? I have no idea how she'd react.
And hell, sometimes I wonder if I'm just going through a tranny phase. And if so, how do I explain that? "Sorry everyone, I was just kidding" doesn't really seem to cut it. I am so scared of losing.. something.. if I transition. I'm not even sure what it is I'm scared of losing. I'm worried that I'll have to date straight women for one thing. And I don't want to do that. Maybe I just took the easy way out of having low self esteem by blaming it on gender. Or maybe I just read so much in the HQ section, and in classes and just adopted it because it seemed cool, or because it would make people like me, or think I was interesting?
Either way. There are things that I am looking forward to over break. Playing guitar with Sumner, hanging out with friends from high school, seeing the stage crew guys again, going to the cities, New Year's Eve. I just have to make myself actually get my school work done first! =)
Speaking of going home, I'm a little nervous about it. I love my family, don't get me wrong. I believe that part of my anxiety about it is that I feel my parents think I'm just going through a tranny phase. I feel like I have to keep bringing it up with them, and I don't really know how. I don't know how to talk to them about it. I understand they need time to adjust and all, but that doesn't make it any easier. I still feel kind of invisible to them. Not to mention, I want to tell them that I've picked out a name. I want to tell my brother and my sister, but I can't imagine that they would take it well. Rob might be ok with it, but Natalie? I have no idea how she'd react.
And hell, sometimes I wonder if I'm just going through a tranny phase. And if so, how do I explain that? "Sorry everyone, I was just kidding" doesn't really seem to cut it. I am so scared of losing.. something.. if I transition. I'm not even sure what it is I'm scared of losing. I'm worried that I'll have to date straight women for one thing. And I don't want to do that. Maybe I just took the easy way out of having low self esteem by blaming it on gender. Or maybe I just read so much in the HQ section, and in classes and just adopted it because it seemed cool, or because it would make people like me, or think I was interesting?
Either way. There are things that I am looking forward to over break. Playing guitar with Sumner, hanging out with friends from high school, seeing the stage crew guys again, going to the cities, New Year's Eve. I just have to make myself actually get my school work done first! =)
Thursday, November 22, 2007
Thanksgiving Pineapple
So it's Thanksgiving again. While the origins of the holiday remain questionable, school lets out for a few days, and people are generally a little nicer to each other for a few days.
One of my favorite Thanksgiving memories is from sophmore year of high school. First, you need to know that my dad loves to cook. He will watch the Food Network with pen and paper nearby so he can take notes on his favorite recipes. He's quite easy to shop for, any time I buy him a gift I just go to a culinary store. This particular year my dad thought up one of his craziest cooking schemes yet. He decided that we were going to get a huge turkey because we were having around 30 family members over for Thanksgiving. Personally, I thought it was a little crazy. Either way. My parents get turkeys every year from the Schmidt's who do the whole free range turkey and chicken thing. I think they also raise goats and one cow a year.
Either way. So at the beginning of October my parents find out this turkey is probably going to weigh in at over 40 lbs. This turkey isn't going to fit in our oven. So my dad decides that we are going to cook it luau style. So over the course of October we dig a huge hole in our backyard. This thing is about 4 feet deep and wide. Thanksgiving Day we get up and set a fire in the bottom, put a grate over it, and put the turkey on top of the grate wrapped in foil. Then we put a sheet of metal over the hole. And then we wait for the turkey to cook.
So around 11:30, my friend Monica shows up at the door with a surprise for us. We let her in, exchange pleasantries, she tells us all to close our eyes and pulls out a pineapple and gives it to my dad. I had told her about the whole turkey cooked in a whole in the ground thing and she decided that the perfect thanksgiving present for us would be a pineapple. Every year after that we've gotten a lovely thanksgiving pineapple.
Luckily, the turkey in the ground thing actually worked. Also luckily, my father hasn't ever tried cooking food in the ground ever since.
One of my favorite Thanksgiving memories is from sophmore year of high school. First, you need to know that my dad loves to cook. He will watch the Food Network with pen and paper nearby so he can take notes on his favorite recipes. He's quite easy to shop for, any time I buy him a gift I just go to a culinary store. This particular year my dad thought up one of his craziest cooking schemes yet. He decided that we were going to get a huge turkey because we were having around 30 family members over for Thanksgiving. Personally, I thought it was a little crazy. Either way. My parents get turkeys every year from the Schmidt's who do the whole free range turkey and chicken thing. I think they also raise goats and one cow a year.
Either way. So at the beginning of October my parents find out this turkey is probably going to weigh in at over 40 lbs. This turkey isn't going to fit in our oven. So my dad decides that we are going to cook it luau style. So over the course of October we dig a huge hole in our backyard. This thing is about 4 feet deep and wide. Thanksgiving Day we get up and set a fire in the bottom, put a grate over it, and put the turkey on top of the grate wrapped in foil. Then we put a sheet of metal over the hole. And then we wait for the turkey to cook.
So around 11:30, my friend Monica shows up at the door with a surprise for us. We let her in, exchange pleasantries, she tells us all to close our eyes and pulls out a pineapple and gives it to my dad. I had told her about the whole turkey cooked in a whole in the ground thing and she decided that the perfect thanksgiving present for us would be a pineapple. Every year after that we've gotten a lovely thanksgiving pineapple.
Luckily, the turkey in the ground thing actually worked. Also luckily, my father hasn't ever tried cooking food in the ground ever since.
Monday, November 5, 2007
names
This semester I finally settled on a name. Instead of the rather feminine first and middle name I was given (Amy Elizabeth) I wanted something different that wasn't exactly masculine, but certainly wasn't that feminine.
On more than one occasion I've enlisted the help of my friends to think up names, and that was very helpful in thinking up options. Eventually after much consideration, I settled on Dylan for a first name. According to one book on name meanings I read it means "born of the water" which I think is a good meaning. Some of my earliest memories are at my grandparents house when they lived on Lake Arrowhead in Wisconsin. When I was in high school and I was stressed out, I would go to the park that overlooked Lake Michigan to think. So I thought Dylan was a fairly appropriate name. It also was the first name that really felt like it fit.
My middle name gave me more difficult. Elizabeth is a family near on my mother's side. Her great-grandmother was named Elizabeth. When I was at my grandmother's earlier this year, I was looking through her genealogy stuff and decided that I would use Moss as my middle name. Moss was my grandmother's maiden name, and it was my great-grandmother Elizabeth's last name.
It's kind of a strange middle name, but it's better than the options on my father's side of the family where everyone's middle name seems to be either Gene or Jean.
I did consider coming up with something completely new, but over the past year I've been realizing how important my family has been to me. It's not like we're perfect or anything, we definitely have issues. Even so, my biological family is part of who I am, and I don't want to erase that.
On more than one occasion I've enlisted the help of my friends to think up names, and that was very helpful in thinking up options. Eventually after much consideration, I settled on Dylan for a first name. According to one book on name meanings I read it means "born of the water" which I think is a good meaning. Some of my earliest memories are at my grandparents house when they lived on Lake Arrowhead in Wisconsin. When I was in high school and I was stressed out, I would go to the park that overlooked Lake Michigan to think. So I thought Dylan was a fairly appropriate name. It also was the first name that really felt like it fit.
My middle name gave me more difficult. Elizabeth is a family near on my mother's side. Her great-grandmother was named Elizabeth. When I was at my grandmother's earlier this year, I was looking through her genealogy stuff and decided that I would use Moss as my middle name. Moss was my grandmother's maiden name, and it was my great-grandmother Elizabeth's last name.
It's kind of a strange middle name, but it's better than the options on my father's side of the family where everyone's middle name seems to be either Gene or Jean.
I did consider coming up with something completely new, but over the past year I've been realizing how important my family has been to me. It's not like we're perfect or anything, we definitely have issues. Even so, my biological family is part of who I am, and I don't want to erase that.
Sunday, October 28, 2007
Grandma Vreeland
My maternal grandmother is an amazing woman. She is wise, strong, and generally one of the greatest people I know. My grandmother was born during the Depression, so she saves everything. My father always jokes that my mother became a pack rat because she learned it from my grandma. My grandmother has had cancer twice already and she also has osteoporosis and has shrunk 5 inches. She tells some of the best stories, and taught me that it's ok to be a book junkie and read almost anything you can get your hands on. She's always reading a few different books at a time, one up in her room, one in the basement, one at her easy chair, and occasionally a few more in case she gets bored with one of them.
My Grandma went to college back when everyone sat down to eat together and there were curfews for the female students. She married a man who flew crop dusters and had two children, my uncle Tom and my aunt Amy. The crop duster ran off and left her when my aunt and uncle were very young, so she had to support them herself for a while. She worked at the same paper mill that my grandfather worked in. It was quite the drama when she and my grandfather decided to get married. In fact, they weren't allowed to be married in the main sanctuary of their church, they had to be married in the chapel because my grandma had already been married. My grandparents had more children, my aunt Peggy, my mother, and my aunts Cindy, Holly and Betsy.
My maternal family is a close knit bunch. You can run out of money, get into college, go on a date, or simply go see a concert and the entire clan will have been notified within the next twenty-four hours. Family gatherings are always interesting, with rehashings of childrens relationships, political discussions, photo sharing, card games, planning vacations that most likely won't happen but are fun to dream up, huge amounts of food, and of course a little alcohol. And my grandmother subtly smoothing out arguments, making sure everyone eats, correcting my father's martini making, keeping track of relationships, birthdays, anniversaries and all the other little things everyone relies on her for.
Like I said earlier, my grandmother is a bit of a pack rat. She saves newspaper clippings, photos, tickets, programs, paper scraps, plastic cups and cutlery, even the stubs of pencils. You can move through the rooms of her house and find all sorts of exciting little treasures. For example, last week I was visiting with my grandparents before flying out to Albany for fall break. I sat down in my grandmother's easy chair, and found a rubber banded packet of slips of paper. On the paper were lists, memories. Books she wanted to read, names of presidents who have served while she's been alive, classmates from grade school, all of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren's birthdays, stories about her childhood. When she was little, her father would tie a rope from the top of the tree to the ceiling because their cats would climb in the tree and knock it over if it wasn't tied up. Or when she was at college, the courses that she took and the names of her professors.
A few months ago my grandmother had a melanoma removed from her cheek. Recently the doctors discovered that the melanoma had gotten into one of the lymph nodes in her neck. They removed all of the lymph nodes in her neck, and luckily only the one had melanoma in it. Still, she is undergoing radiation therapy just in case. Her last radiation treatment is next Wednesday. It's painful for her, and it wears her down. It's been a little scary for the rest of us, when my grandmother passes away there will be a huge void in our lives. Everyone dies though, and even though my grandmother seems to have won this particular medical battle it still reminds me not to take her for granted.
My Grandma went to college back when everyone sat down to eat together and there were curfews for the female students. She married a man who flew crop dusters and had two children, my uncle Tom and my aunt Amy. The crop duster ran off and left her when my aunt and uncle were very young, so she had to support them herself for a while. She worked at the same paper mill that my grandfather worked in. It was quite the drama when she and my grandfather decided to get married. In fact, they weren't allowed to be married in the main sanctuary of their church, they had to be married in the chapel because my grandma had already been married. My grandparents had more children, my aunt Peggy, my mother, and my aunts Cindy, Holly and Betsy.
My maternal family is a close knit bunch. You can run out of money, get into college, go on a date, or simply go see a concert and the entire clan will have been notified within the next twenty-four hours. Family gatherings are always interesting, with rehashings of childrens relationships, political discussions, photo sharing, card games, planning vacations that most likely won't happen but are fun to dream up, huge amounts of food, and of course a little alcohol. And my grandmother subtly smoothing out arguments, making sure everyone eats, correcting my father's martini making, keeping track of relationships, birthdays, anniversaries and all the other little things everyone relies on her for.
Like I said earlier, my grandmother is a bit of a pack rat. She saves newspaper clippings, photos, tickets, programs, paper scraps, plastic cups and cutlery, even the stubs of pencils. You can move through the rooms of her house and find all sorts of exciting little treasures. For example, last week I was visiting with my grandparents before flying out to Albany for fall break. I sat down in my grandmother's easy chair, and found a rubber banded packet of slips of paper. On the paper were lists, memories. Books she wanted to read, names of presidents who have served while she's been alive, classmates from grade school, all of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren's birthdays, stories about her childhood. When she was little, her father would tie a rope from the top of the tree to the ceiling because their cats would climb in the tree and knock it over if it wasn't tied up. Or when she was at college, the courses that she took and the names of her professors.
A few months ago my grandmother had a melanoma removed from her cheek. Recently the doctors discovered that the melanoma had gotten into one of the lymph nodes in her neck. They removed all of the lymph nodes in her neck, and luckily only the one had melanoma in it. Still, she is undergoing radiation therapy just in case. Her last radiation treatment is next Wednesday. It's painful for her, and it wears her down. It's been a little scary for the rest of us, when my grandmother passes away there will be a huge void in our lives. Everyone dies though, and even though my grandmother seems to have won this particular medical battle it still reminds me not to take her for granted.
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