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From One Side to the Other

A transitional journal.

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fair knight



August 4th, 2009

"Many of us will be shocked, upon arriving at the other side of the veil, at who will and will not be saved. The deviant sinner we thought we knew, stripped of his mortal handicaps, may very well outshine the externally pious but sin-cankered soul we sat next to in church each Sunday. Only God can judge, for He alone knows both our heart and the unique baggage we are forced to carry though mortality."
- C.S. Lewis, paraphrased.

Before we get into this, please let me make my beliefs clear, so that there aren't any misunderstandings: I do not follow any organized religion.

I have found, too often, that when a good idea, a good set of beliefs, is structured, boarded up, and fixed into a building that it becomes too easy for believers to add locks to the doors.
That is, when you take a good idea, and build so much on top of it, it takes form of some exclusive "you are not allowed because..." club.

Far too many times have I seen the leaders of some of even the most wonderful congregations, be they Methodist, Jewish, Pagan, or Catholic, turn their backs to one of the most important things they say that humans have been charged with: loving their fellow man.

I do not believe in any one set face, or gender, for what my beliefs are placed in.

Again, I do not consider myself Pagan, Buddhist, Jewish, or any denomination of contemporary Christian.
Do I believe in any God at all?
Anyone that knows me would tell you "no", and that is because I have voiced such an opinion.
Yet even in the back of my mind, there is an inkling of something, a knowledge that somewhere inside of me, I feel a reverence for something that is... so very far from me. Something away from the physical world, something larger, greater- and kinder.

Jeff Lindsay, a Mormon blogger whom I have had the pleasure of discovering today through TWITTER, of all places, caught my eye in one particular blog where he starts out... openly mentioning someone who had undergone sex reassignment surgery.

Immediately, I thought, "Another person claiming to be Christian, who acts anything but. Who sins, but still casts a stone. Who turns his back on his neighbor, and does not love them not for what, but for who, they really are."

I was WRONG.

Jeff says, about mid-blog, the following... which I have decided to quote here because I feel it is an accurate representation to what I myself believe (if not simply being, at least, the closest I have found yet).

He wrote,
"I accept the LDS [Latter Day Saints] Proclamation on the Family and its statement on gender: "Each [human] is a beloved spirit son or daughter of heavenly parents, and, as such, each has a divine nature and destiny. Gender is an essential characteristic of individual premortal, mortal, and eternal identity and purpose." I believe that is true. However, when it comes to the specific expression or manifestation of gender in this mortal realm, there may be some gray areas or puzzling contradictions and complexities that require me to step back and recognize I don't have all the answers. Perhaps the best I can do is to focus on my duty and be charitable toward others, even when I cannot possibly understand or relate to their complex journey."

Thank you, Jeff. Really, honestly, thank you.

Many people that I have met, and had the pleasure- or honest displeasure- of speaking to seem to always take the stance that it is either a decision we consciously make, to be transgendered (and as all actions are easily influenced, it is the Devil's fault, and we should resist him, and find comfort in God's word- oh, the hypocrisy going on here!)... or best of all yet, they do not try to understand at all, and spew out a widely-ranging, but always basically the same:
"You are going to Hell for being a sinner."

Excuse me while I rub my sides; they are sore from laughing.

The last I checked, and I do check to be on the up and up when people try to arm themselves to the teeth with holy scripture, the bible made it clear that there need be only one judge: God himself.

Do the words "let he who is without sin cast the first stone" ring any bells?

How many times I have seen stones go flying, I cannot tell you.

In his blog, closer to the end, Jeff goes on to extend his thoughts on homosexuality, but curves back around to hit the base of gender yet again; entwining the two, even though it is abundantly clear that gender identity, and sexual preferences, are wholly different things.

He says,
"Patience, unconditional love, acceptance, and charity are needed to stand by those who do wish to change (and shame on those who condemn them for trying!). I think the same principle should apply to those who wish to make changes that we disapprove of, such as sex-reassignment surgery. Patience, love, and kindness are the most we can do. Perhaps there are matters of behavior or belief that a person's Church leaders may need to deal with, but for the rest of us, withholding judgment (and freely offering love and kindness) may be the best we can do."

Again: thank you, Jeff.

I know that I may appear to be veering off one way, hopping subjects, and rambling to my heart's content... and maybe that is the truth. However, let me state here that I believe that there is something I need to say, and I will ramble, rant, huff, puff, and blow all the walls down until I have managed to say that thing.

But, I cannot complete my thoughts at this time, and will have to write another note to explain where this crazy, winding road was going.
Until then, think of this analogy: the parent who chews with their mouth open should not scold their child, who does the same.

June 30th, 2009

(no subject)

fair knight
There was an explosive argument.
It led to me being chased through my own home, and worrying I'd soon be having to physically defend myself against a (possibly already on her vodka bottle tipping spree) bigger, heavier aunt... and this made me panic.

It made me panic, because it felt like home.

It felt like I was back at my mother's, trying to dodge the only things I learned I could not defend myself from: dining room chairs. And I found myself mapping the house we are in, counting the places I could make a break for, recounting exits, making sure I could make it out to my car, at least. Knowing that the fastest way to my car was through the dining room. Through the door right by those chairs.
By the solid wooden chairs, that my dad bought bare, sanded down, and varnished.

I felt nauseous, but somehow- somehow- I managed to run around her, dipping under her arms, and I made it to my car. I made it to my car with my aunt at my heels, yelling that I "had to come back sometime" and I was crying. I had an anxiety attack, and the elevation in my breathing was too taxing on my lungs.

I was purple lipped and couldn't find my inhaler.

...I thought, "this needs to end, this has to end now".

But I am still here. What the hell is wrong with me? I thought I was smarter than this. I thought I was better. 

May 17th, 2009


right to protest
I tend not to eat.

I don't consider this a disorder because I do not do it on purpose. I simply have not really had an appetite for a long time, and yet, while it is pretty easy to lie about it (and I do), it's not out of guilt but simply an act done to keep myself away from lectures. I know that it is not healthy, and I am not trying to do it. I can get cravings, but when it comes to the idea of putting anything (even whatever I may craving) in my stomach, I get nauseous, or immediately turned off from it. This leads to me not eating, and usually goes on for a few days until I feel weak, or start getting light-headed and resort to forcing myself to ingest something solid.

Unfortunately, the things I wind up eating are not usually the healthiest of things, but I am trying to change that by cutting out as many unhealthy options as possible. The downside to this plan is that I live with three other people, who are not limiting themselves, and commonly bring in unhealthy things. Yes, I can say no and turn my nose up at these things, but there has been the odd occasion in the middle of the night where I come to realize I have woken up and eaten something (whatever is in reach, and does not need cooking, and thus is usually some form of a snack food or leftovers from a sandwich, etc.). This seems to be something I can't stop myself from doing, and I do not know what is causing it, how it got started- or scarier yet, when it did.

I do have a rather unhealthy image of my own body, and the dysphoria I feel with my physical sex does nothing to help. I can hardly shower without feeling like I am suffocating just because my chest is not bound, and there is next to nothing between my legs. On top of this, I am overweight and upset with that, and better yet, still, I am also deeply depressed.

This is all a mix for a rather nasty cycle that I am... trying to break.

March 26th, 2009

I'll get right to it.

Sex talk- more specifically, sexual frustrations.Collapse )

I am hoping that starting HRT will make me at least a little more comfortable with exploring what little options I have, but as that is not an option at the moment, I simply feel as though I am drowning. I'm so unbelievably frustrated.

I can't imagine how it may be when I do finally start T. Will I be a walking hard-on...?

March 24th, 2009

Et tu?

fair knight

March 23rd, 2009

Hula hula.

fair knight

March 18th, 2009

I can't make you watch it.

fair knight
But I would recommend that you do.


March 4th, 2009


fair knight

February 27th, 2009

I'm a language geek.

fair knight
Five out of five stars.Collapse )

February 22nd, 2009

Some surprises.

One: My ultra conservative Christian grandfather, the one whom I expected most to be against my transitioning, has been referring to me as male. He thinks that my (female) cousin and I living together is a bad idea as, "boys and girls do not live together". He calls me "Hayden".

Two: My strange, sometimes-conservative but sometimes-weirdly-adaptive father is in denial. He is fully against my transition, as he does not "believe in it". He says that, "women are born with the right plumbing, and men are born with the right plumbing". FTMs are, essentially, in his mind simply women that removed their breasts.

Three: My biological mother has disowned me. I can only hope that if and when I go back to Tampa that she will have kept my photographs and baby book, so that I can take them off of her hands. She says she cannot be my mother "for her health". She is as manipulative as ever. I have done all I can to cut her from my life completely.

I am making this public because it is only fair for you to see the bad, after having seen only the good.
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