#hrt mtf
A good way to start my day…
Sooooooooo, in case you were wondering, being trans is mixed bag of experiences and emotions and self discovery. There are days when I feel like the darkly hilarious queen of the world, and days when I feel like a big bag of flaming shit.
It changes day to day because, dysphoria. Because ignorant, bigoted asshats. Because suddenly, people who once loved me, have stopped messaging me; hide my profile from their friend lists on social media.
The world seems oddly foriegn.
Mundane, everyday moments suddenly take on an air of danger and uncertainty. This one time, my wife and I were at Walmart shopping for things - as one does.
We were out of chocolate unicorn lucky charms, and I had a craving!
This happened to be a day of low dysphoria for me. In fact, I was feeling straight up adorable.
I had found the magical Box of cereal I went searching for, and started making my way back to my wife, who had the cart.
It was as normal and basic and boring of a thing as it sounds.
There was this guy, with a full cart of whatever pushing his way through. He was older, cis and seemed harmless enough… But he was determined to get through the aisle, so I backed against the shelves to give him Room. As he passes me, he leans in and whispers; “you’re disgusting.” and continued on his way.
It took me a minute to process what had just happened. Initially, I checked my nose to see if I had a boogey. Then I thought: “Maybe he’s not into all my tattoos? ”
Like that would matter.
I had a full head of wool felted pink dreads braided into my hair. Maybe he had an issue with my cyber gothness. In which case, go fuck yourself, I’m hella stylish.
But after a minute, I realized he was a transphobic piece of garbage, and I had just been attacked.
There went my confidence, because I’m still pretty fragile, despite my tough exterior.
I was able to shake it off by the end of the day, but still.
What the hell is wrong with people?
Why is who I am so threatening to them? Why should it even matter? I don’t know them, they don’t know me. What do they give a crap if I’m a tattooed, dread having, trans-goth punk princess?
I think it’s because trans people represent a proactive approach to making your life better. It’s not something internalized, like learning to take breaks or having a New Year’s resolution… It’s visceral and physical and very much visible to one degree or another.
And that’s upsetting to a lot of people. I think about my sister-in-law. She’s super unhappy, but she feels resigned in her life like, ‘this is what it is and I’m just gonna push through it until I die.’ It’s as if the thought of taking a step to be happy and making things better is too daunting or too scary, so staying in misery is the lesser of 2 evils.
For the record, I do empathize with that. It took a long time for me to admit who I was and come out and transition for very similar reasons.
The difference is, I never faulted other people for being brave enough to make positive changes in their lives. Quite the opposite, I find it inspiring.
But I think that some people get to a place in their lives where they don’t wanna be reminded about how miserable they are. And then here comes a trans person going; “stuff wasn’t working out, so I’m making changes.”
I experience moments like this from time to time and it can really harm my self image and my sense of safety and confidence. There are days when I don’t feel like I can leave the house. But I do anyway, because I’ll be dammed if I’m gonna stop living my life because of some ignorant Jack-ass at a Walmart.
I was in one of these brooding, Dark Places when I got the following message to me:
It was in response to a post I made about missing my grandmother and wanting her to be proud of the woman I am becoming…
“I just read your post about your grandma’s b-day and you talked about the authentic you… I’m just stopping by to say… I had no idea you had transitioned from an other gender. No idea what so ever. You’re so stinking feminine and pretty. I have someone in my life whom I love dearly, who is living in fear of thier authentic self… You give them courage and strength and you don’t even know it. Thank you for being the real you. You’re making a difference for someone in my life and I appreciate your courage and authenticity… have a wonderful day, gorgeous.”
I read this twice and cried.
Not all people suck, and as hard as it can sometimes be, the struggle is worth it. ❤
I hit a few setbacks, but am getting ever closer to starting my youtube channel “Transtastic,” where I share my thoughts and experiences on transitioning as I work on living my best life. ❤
This is a test of what I think my show opening will look like… please stand by.
Today is one of those rare days when I don’t feel dysphoric. I don’t feel othered today. I am the most in my skin and in the moment that I have felt in quite a while. Today, I don’t see the hurt and loss that often hides behind my eyes. I am wholly myself right now and I like it…
Friends! Fam! Allies!
The current administration has begun creating a narrow definition of gender that would erase the identities of 1.4 million transgender people, nationwide.
‘Transgender’ Could Be Defined Out of Existence Under Trump Administration
Enough is enough. It’s time for us to stand shoulder to shoulder as a united front against those who would see us erased from society.
Our lives matter. Our identities are valid. Our voices will be heard.
Be the change.
We Won’t Be Erased - Protest for Trans Visibility
If you’re in or near columbus, come support us..✊✊✊
It’s YouTube time!
Coming soon! “Transtastic,” the vlog of Felicia DeRosa - Art and trans stuff, served hot and sassy each week! Check it out, like, and subscribe !
Transrant #56
I have been living an authentic life for nearly 3 years now. And I feel liberated, lighter.
Alive.
I was talking to a good friend this morning, when this fact dawned on me. It got me thinking… All the masks I once wore, have fallen away and I am left with the rawness of myself, exposed. Sure, I employ filters from time to time, because functional member of society, but no more masks. No more faking it. No more BULLSHIT.
There is exploration, play, and discovery, as I learn how to navigate the world from this new vantage point.
There are growing pains, to be sure, but also a growing sense of sure-footedness as I claw out of the brambles, and into the light.
And this is merely a signpost.
The road has been long, and the road ahead is longer still… but that’s ok.
After all, the journey is the best part…
I made a thing, because yeah.
Post Surgical Musings: Week 3
Hullo my loves!!
I figured I’d check in, especially as I approach 3 weeks post op…
I’m good and getting better, though I still cannot sit up for too long. Leaning, reclining - STANDING, no problem. Sitting? Not so much. My hope is that I can drive myself to my next dr. appointment.
Recently, I was in front of a full length mirror, and experienced a moment of true congruence. That is, I saw MY body reflected back at me, not HIS. I was so overcome by this realization, I cried.
Mentally, being back on my HRT after being off it for 2+ weeks has reset my head again, (Something about being on HRT turns off my bipolar disorder… No one can tell me why) - and I’m back to free falling within the eye of the storm.
Environmentally, the cabin fever going on is REALLY getting to me. Yesterday, I wandered out in my jammies and slippers to get the mail and I thought; “Yasss, freedom!”
All of that has changed since coming out; since claiming myself for myself, as myself. If I could gift such a thing to the world, I totally would.
I feel at peace with my body for the first time EVER - even with all the bruises, swelling, imperfections, and such that are part of the healing process…
Spending so much time alone has put me into a reflective, broody kind of mood; I come from a lifetime of being kept at a distance and never understanding why. Of one sided relationships and fair weather friends. Of feeling alone in a crowded room. Of people speaking AROUND me, not to me.
Letting myself be loved, accepting grace - to borrow an expression, has been SO HARD.
Even now, trust remains a foreign language, but I’m forever working at it… learning the vocabulary.
Recovery is really rough. I feel so weak and incapable of doing pretty much anything. Thankfully, I have some awesome friends who have been keeping an eye on me…
It takes - on average, 3 months to be considered fully healed. I’m a third of the way there. Even still, with all that had to be done, it can take up to a full YEAR for the body to be back at 100%.
And the big wheel keeps on turning… ❤
