It’s amazing how many things are chilling.
This morning, I went to a church I was at last year. The front doors were locked, and in the ten minutes before service started I saw three couples go into the side entrance. Sure, they are probably just saving the cost of heating the main church, but it’s hard to it in the back without a crowd. I often joke that I just want to sit to the side with the other trannys, but of course, there never are any other transpeople.
The snowstorm this week was chilling. I set aside Wednesday to shovel, but then, thanks to my neighbor, I had to set aside Thursday to clear the drive of ice.
Of course, the cul-de-sac is always chilling. I try to keep my head down for my parents, but people know. I’m sure the next door neighbor who uses her car as a smoking/phone lounge knows, as I ran past her diving into the garage this morning after coming back from my aborted attempt at church.
My parents are chilling, and I need to talk to them a couple of times a day. They are so stressed and getting so old that just communicating with them is very hard; you need to bang in to get them to hear what you are saying.
My sister is chilling, with her objectives and work stories. She scares me, and certainly doesn’t create warmth to open up and feel safe.
The economy is chilling, to everyone.
This area has long been known for its chill, for its lack of a supportive culture.
And winter, well, winter is winter.
I wrote about safe spaces fifteen years ago now. And the challenge then is the same as now; how do I carry a warm and safe space inside of me to get through the chilling parts?
I need some heat. To me, at least, that is the most important part of calling, that heat of mission which drives you and keeps you moving even through the chill.
But no matter how I beat the bushes, I find few hot spots around here. The visible trans community around here are mostly crossdressers who like being out in the dark spaces, mostly bars. I did that, years ago, and they hold little appeal to me now.
Some notes from a conversation with same:
As to nerve, well, I have found that its hard for me to both have the nerve to stride in queer & alone and the vulnerability to be accessible & open at the same time. If I go in balls to the wall, well, then it’s hard to switch to soft.
That’s why women like to travel in packs, you know. Better someone has your back.
You met a Genetic Girl? You check their genes and find out that they are a girl? I mean, I know females are chromosomal XX, but as to genes, well they are complex, and I don’t know where girl is written. I mean, I know many trannys who seem to have feminine written into their genes, even if they are chromosonally male. The best I can do is figure out that someone was “assigned as female at birth or soon thereafter and raised as a girl,” which I usually shorten to “born female” or “BF.”
As to _________ well, she needs to stay where she is, and so is kind of crusty about challenges to her theory of trans. Can’t find other language or meet, which is fine. Far from the first tranny I have known with that challenge.
Transpeople, well, we live in phases of out & in and such. It’s just the way we have to do it. I’m sure she is addressing some other priority in her life, and has had to put trans on the back burner. But it was great what she did, even as she had the challenge every transperson who is living with a heterosexual identified born-female wife, how to hold onto the husband role and also be trans.
I once wrote Helen Boyd a piece on how we use “tells” to tell contradictory stories. She put it on the MHB message boards and the crossdressers beat up on the premise completely: they really were not giving mixes messages, they were women. Somehow, I don’t think Helen would have posted it if she hadn’t seen it, but I also think she was surprised by the response of the CDs, who really need to believe that they are telling pure stories when they are a man and when they are a woman.
TBB wants me to remember that trans is a road, and that it’s not right for those of us in high-school to challenge those still in elementary school. I understand her point, but real elementary kids understand that they are growing up, and that they will change in the future. For example, no teenager watches High School Musical, but ‘tweens do, imagining their future high school days. Newly out transpeople, though, or still closeted transpeople, don’t have any context that they are just starting out, that they have something to learn, that others have more experience and wisdom. They are grown ups in body, so how can they not be grown ups in mind, heart and spirit?
I am so cold, so very cold.
I search for fire to burn my bonds.
But somehow, it escapes me