My uterus and I.

My uterus and I haven't been getting along for quite a while. I'm not completely sure when it started. When I was on the pill as a teenager and in my early twenties I would get my period like clockwork. Tuesday afternoon at 2pm. But when I got a girlfriend I quit taking the pill and my period disappeared. Later I learned it was probably because of my low weight and the fact that I wasn't eating enough. In my mid twenties I started eating a bit more for a while and my period came back. We have been arguing ever since. I never knew when she would wave a red flag nor if she meant it. So eventually I got a coil, hoping to settle things once and for all. Or at least for a few years. No such luck. She still pops up every now and then but never in full bloom.
Now I have started testosterone things have not calmed down at all. In addition there are sharp pains or cramps as I feel my uterus shrinking. She's not going down without a fight.

A uterus is a woman's greatest asset. It's her crown jewel. It brings forth life. But in my case, she is an adversary. She reminds me of what I am and what I am not. Of what I will never be. Every time she cramps up it feels as of she mocks me. She holds back my masculinity. Over the years she has forced me into a shape I never wanted. She has made my life miserable. If all goes well she will be out of my life for good in as little as 4 months. It will be a little bit of death, and a rebirth. I can't wait.

In the mean time, I'm not getting any jewels back. I will be permanently infertile. I will never be able to have children. Then again, I'm 35 and not in a solid relationship where children are even an option. I never even wanted kids in the first place. So this shouldn't be a big deal, right? This is simply moving forwards. A logical step. Nothing to it. Alas, that is not how it works. Having the choice to not have children is different from not having a choice anymore. I know, having been born female bodied, the choice is pretty much over anyway. But my sister is 2 years older then me and is now having her second child. I'm happy for her. We hadn't expected it to happen but it did. So of the still got a chance at her age, why shouldn't I?

But wait, I didn't want kids, right? Right. So why is this a big deal again?

I have been thinking about this and I think it has to do with mortality and the meaning of life. If you have children a bit of you lives on in them when you die. If you don't have children you have to find a different way to impact the world. That's it in a nutshell. A lot of people try to live through their children. It's not always a good idea but it happens all the time. They hope their children will do all the things they never did, for whatever reason they may have had. Their children can compensate for their mistakes. They can undo their wrongs. When you don't have kids, you have to do all of that on your own. That's pretty big. This means that making the permanent decision to not have children automatically results in making the decision to live my life for me and me alone. That I have to do everything myself. That I can not rely on someone to make up for the things I didn't do.

Feel free to accuse me of thinking too much for my own good. I won't deny it.

Another thing is the social implication. Life exists purely to sustain itself. Procreating is the most important thing there is. We have copied that in our social structures. You can see this in any society. Children provide status and security. If you do not have children you are pitied. People generally find it hard to believe that some people don't want to have children. They don't understand why someone would not want to have children. I don't feel the need to defend myself as to why I don't want them, that's up to me and me alone. Often people assume you're just saying that because you don't have the option. But if you actually can't have them, then you truly are pitied indeed. And that is the last thing I need. I don't want this status attached to me of poor transperson who had to give up children. That is not the case. But I know some people that I will meet will think that way because it is easier for them then to accept the fact that I chose to live my life for myself instead of trying to live it through someone else. This might make me not a good living creature, but it doesn't make me a bad person. I think a lot of people would be happier if they focused a bit more on what they would like to do with their lives instead of putting pressure on their kids to have better grades then the neighbor's kids. If you want that's best for your children, don't you think setting an example on how to be happy with yourself would be more valuable then comparing them to others?

Final conclusion: it's time for me and my uterus to part ways. After all, you usually regret the things you didn't do more then the things you did do.

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Another one bites the dust. (suicide)

Last week the body of a 13 year of boy was found in the woods near an adjacent town. The sister of a friend of mine went to the same school as he did. 2 steps away. So close but still a total stranger. Even though I didn't know him it still shook me. The death of a 13 year old child is never a good thing. Immediately people started speculating what had happened. Murder or suicide? I talked to several people about this. I was told that he was a singular boy, quite different from other children his age, and,therefor, was bullied. There were also speculations on whether or not he was gay. But, there were also a lot of witnesses who claimed they saw him going into the woods with a man. I heard the boy was covered in bruises and therefor it must be murder. That he had bruises in his neck that looked like he had been choked. I don't know if that is true. All I know is that, 2 days ago, the police confirmed it was a suicide. His mother and sister are getting support. There was no mention of help being provided for his father who claimed it was impossible that it was suicide.


I don't know what really happened but fact remains that a young boy felt he had no other option then to end his life. I remember when I was 13 and felt the same way. I was about that age when a girl at my school committed suicide. I didn't know her well, only spoke to her a few times, but respected her greatly. She was one of the first openly lesbian girls I ever met. When she died part of me felt sad, because I didn't believe the world was a better place without her. Part of me felt angry, because the world had failed to help her. Part of me felt jealous, because she had done something I had thought about a lot but never had the courage to do. And part of me felt a little proud of her for being brave enough to take control over her own death and with that her life like that.


About 20 years later another one bites the dust. And I don't know why. I made it. I'm okay now, mostly. I don't consider suicide an option anymore though sometimes I regret not having succeeded at it because life can still get to me. At times like this it does. I know I'm not the only one.


"The Suicide Prevention Resource Center synthesized these studies and estimated that between 30 and 40% of LGBT youth, depending on age and sex groups, have attempted suicide." http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Suicide_among_LGBT_youth

I find these statistics staggering. That many? Really? Of course, I don't know for sure if this boy was gay. I didn't know him. But LGBT youths are 4 times more likely to attempt suicide then heterosexual youths. Those are the odds. You do the math.


The COC that I have told you about has an education program. They provide a sort of workshop at schools to teach about diversity, bullying and LGBT issues. The Trans*-initiative will be providing a training for the educators on trans issues so I decided to come along and see how it works, how the kids respond, what kind of questions they have etc. so I knew what the educators are facing when standing in front of a class. It was an amazing experience. In the end someone always tells his/her own story so I decided to step up right away as the kids had loads of questions concerning transgenders. The kids were great! I was really blown away. I had so much fun. It felt great. I felt like I had done something worthwhile that would help make this world a better place. But clearly, it was not enough. I don't blame myself for the death of this one child. I blame all of us for the deaths of so many children. We say we have come a long way in accepting people who are different. That's great. But it doesn't help these kids that are getting bullied for bing different, these kids that are not being accepted by their own parents, these kids that feel like they have no place in this world. 20 years of progress and still a family has to bury their son, their brother because this boy did not feel safe, did not feel loved, did not feel strong enough to fight this immense force around him that would not accept him for who he was.


This may sound silly but I have literally cried for this boy. Not just for him, for all of us. And I probably will cry every time I hear something like this has happened. I hope this doesn't mean I will continue to cry the rest of my life. I know I'm not the only one who is upset about this. We all should be. But what do we do? The kids at his school are wearing colored pants for a few weeks, because he used to do so. They have no idea what kind of hypocrites that makes them. And how pointless it is if they don't change the way they treat each other. We need to educate our children. To be able to do that, we need to educate ourselves and ask ourselves some tough questions. Are you really open to people who are different from you? Do you accept and respect other people? Do you? Really? Or do you judge them behind their backs and think they won't notice? Are you being honest with yourself on this? Do you practice what you preach? The only way we can change this world is by first being honest with ourselves, change what we need to, and then help others gather the information they need to be able to find acceptance of and respect for those who are different from them.


If you feel like you want to do something more and have the time, check the website to become a volunteer and help educating our children: http://www.cocleiden.nl/nieuws/voorlichtsters-gezocht. One person CAN make a difference. Why shouldn't it be you?


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Three generations.

A friend of mine got a text today from her mother, stating she was in distress and needed help. Of course my friend went. This is not the first time I have heard about something like this: a parent asking a child for help because they were in emotional distress. Somehow I always get slightly mad about it. A parent should not have to ask their child for help in that way, no matter how old the child is. But it happens, more then you'd think. So I started wondering why.

Why is it that such a large chunk of the previous generation has such trouble dealing with their emotions? Why have they never learned how? So I looked at the generation before them, our grandparents. And there it is. The Second World War. We tend to forget our grandparents were survivors. They saw horrible things and survived them. Concentration camps, the horrible winter, living in constant fear. We forget these things. In times of peace, war seems so far away. No, we are not living in total peace, there is a war going on somewhere every single second. But we don't feel it. We don't see it. Most of us don't anyway. We shy away from the soldiers that come back from fighting wars in countries a lot of people can't even locate on a map. It's not OUR war. We know nothing of war. And we certainly don't notice how quite a few of us, more then we think, are still battling the results of that great war over 50 years ago.

Our parents were taught not to be vulnerable. Showing how you feel, or talking about it, made you vulnerable. At the camps, such things could mean instant death. For fear of losing their children the survivors taught their children what they had done to make it out alive: keep your head down, keep everything locked inside. A very effective survival strategy in the camps, but now the war is over it backfires. A lot of people don't know how to react to how they feel. Sometimes they don't even know what they feel at all. But humans are emotional creatures and not being able to express what they feel is not healthy. So they get confused and sad. I once read somewhere it takes about 3 generations to get over a war trauma. Yes, I believe it really does takes that long. I see it happening all around me; people my generation giving in to the confusion and sadness, allowing it to be present and working through all the emotions to come out more complete, more alive. And then they end up seeing the pain their parents still carry, not resenting them, but feeling sorry for them that they were not able to recover. They still have time. They can still claim their own lives and make something more out of it then sheer survival. I hope they will.

 

Having thought about this I came to realize I'm not mad at those parents. I'm mad at the war and the lack of help for that entire generation. That sure puts things in a different perspective. Seeing the bigger picture might help some people to let go of some of the anger and move towards a more healing attitude. Good luck to all of you.


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I survived Christmas!

I am seriously thinking about planning a holiday for next Christmas so I won't have to think about it too much. Christmas Eve I managed to ignore completely. I just made a normal dinner, watched a movie and went to bed early.

On Christmas day my sister came over with her family. Her boyfriend fits her perfectly. They both have the same trades that have always made me wonder if she would ever find someone she wouldn't drive insane. They are like 2 peas in a pod. I'm happy for her. I did notice we are drifting apart. We live in different worlds. If we weren't siblings we probably would have given up ages ago but we keep trying, stay in touch and let each other know what's going on in lives. I really am happy she is happy but our connection is weak. She didn't say a word about our mother and was clearly determined to keep it that way. We were trying to have a nice family dinner so such topics had to be avoided. She didn't have time to see me by herself while she's in the country (she lives in Australia) so I won't be able to talk to her about all of this at all any time soon. I would have liked to  know how she feels about my transition but I guess I can always send her an email.

I spent Boxing day with my 2 best friends which was really nice even though we were all tired. At least it was something. And the food was good.


After Christmas my father came over for a few days. He's actually still here but went to visit some friends. Usually, when he is in Holland, he stays at my mother's place (he lives in Germany) or at his brother's who lives further South. Because my sister is staying at my mother's place and he did want to be near by to see my sister and me he asked if he could stay at my place. I'm not a big fan of having him stay over because he has annoying habits that get on my nerves but I figured I'd take one for the team so both my brother (who lives up North and yes, we're all over the place) and sister would be able to see him. He went and had dinner with my mother yesterday. He told me they didn't speak of me. Not one word. It feels like I am dead to her. Somehow that's not a bad thing. This is the first year I didn't get a Christmas card from her. The last time we didn't speak she did send me cards, every year. It really annoyed me back then but now I didn't get one this year I'm aware of what it really meant. She was still holding on and open to trying to mend our bond. This time it's different. No more Christmas cards. This time she is letting go and moving on. This means I can too. It's a bit scary to write that down because it feels so definitive. But that's just the way it is. She doesn't seem to leave me much of a choice. She has made her choice and mine is a logical response to hers. It's the only thing I can do. So now I am another step closer to claiming my own life. Slowly but surely, one day I will be me.


In the mean time I have started writing my life story for A. Man at the gender team. It's a slow and painful process. I'm not sure how much 'but I wanted to be a boy' stuff he expects in there because most of my life I had buried it so deep I didn't even know it was an issue. I talked about this with my father, about my mother and how she had wanted to have a boy and how that confused me when I was little. She once told me, ages ago, that she would rather have been a boy as well. I wasn't ready to admit I did too so I never got back to it until last spring when I told her about my decision to transition. She denied ever having said that. But according to my father it is true. He told me that she did indeed have gender issues. What to make of that? I don't know. Her parents survived POW camps in Indonesia and they taught her two important lessons: always keep your head down, and don't get attached to people. That's how they survived. So that's what she did. She decided to not give in to it and to keep her head down. And now I'm not keeping my head down she is pushing me away. I can't blame her. From her point of view it makes perfect sense. I guess if this is what she needs to do, then so be it. It's time for me to move on. So here I go. 2013, here I come.



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I just got uninvited for Christmas.

My mother's husband came to pick up the paintings the had made at my course because she didn't want to come anymore and told me he didn't think it was a good idea if I would come over for Christmas anymore either. I have to admit I told her I needed a bit more space and didn't think it would be wise to have her in my course anymore because we have been tiptoeing around each other way too much lately in order to avoid direct conflict but as a result we both feel irritated and exhausted. I felt like it was an endless and pointless battle. So last week I went over there to talk to her. I told her I love her very much and do want a good relationship with her and have been trying really hard to make that happen for as long as I can remember but we simply don't connect. We're a mismatch. There is nothing we can do about it. I also told her that I do love her very much and I do want her in my life but just every now and then for a cup of tea or something. Not too intense, not too complicated. No expectations, just the little things. She said she'd like that and if there was anything I ever needed I just needed to ask. And now she send her husband, who I have never liked, even before they got together, to pick up her stuff and tell me she doesn't want to see me anymore. I am done. There is just no pleasing her. It makes me very very sad to be set aside like this. I had been thinking about this for months and months, almost half a year, to find a way to still see each other without making each other miserable. I tried so hard and I just get pushed to the side. Yes I know it's not easy for her having a child she doesn't understand and I know she has been trying as well, in her own way. I understand and respect that. But this feels like she is giving up on me. It's as if I no longer exist to her. I guess there is nothing left I can do. I just have to face the fact that I no longer have a mother and just make the best of things.
Anyone want to have me over for Christmas? I never liked Christmas because me family would always be fighting. But spending it all alone because my mother won't have me over? That's different. Looks like this is going to be a harsh winter.
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