#traveler

Making ordinary my extraordinary

Drink of the day

@europe_perfection

Chin up, Tits out.

~~~

When I started transitioning, my body went through a combination of changes; Some that were expected, some that were UNEXPECTED, and even some that weren’t supposed to happen, but did anyway. It’s been quite the ride!

I still have a few years left of my second puberty, but at this point, I finally feel like this body is MINE, and not “his.” That. Has been the best part. The problem I’ve had, is not knowing how to operate it. It’s like growing up driving a golf cart, and suddenly being given the keys to a tricked out muscle car. With nitrous. I understand how things work in concept, but the handling is way different, the horsepower is a little terrifying and I keep almost wrecking.

It’s a learning curve that’s costing me a FORTUNE in burnt out clutches.

*EDITOR’S NOTE:*

If my little automotive metaphor is going over your head, I do apologize - but know that it’s ABSOLUTELY accurate.

Anyhow.

In an effort to better understand my body; the new jiggly bits, the changed center of gravity- the generally fluid way it moves, I’ve taken up belly dancing.

Part of this is me learning my body and all it can do, and part of it is me exploring my cultural origins and heritage. It’s a fusion style with roots in my lineage, but is decidedly American, which feels right, considering it’s where I was born.

Last night was my first class at an awesome studio called “Sacred Shimmy,” and it was AMAZING. I had no idea my hips could do things!! Thank the baby Bahjeebus I have yoga experience, or I might have died. That said, I woke up feeling more connected to myself than I have in a WHILE.

Deciding to be committed to body positivity, and living my life in abundance is so freeing!

Who’s with me?

One of my biggest life pursuits, is being MINDFUL. After a lifetime of being discriminated against, othered, invalidated, and in so many ways discarded, I developed the sad habit of disassociation. Staring off blankly into space, “checking out” - it’s a common defense mechanism of the abused and disenfranchised. Because of it, there is much of my life that I simply cannot recall. YEARS, in fact. 

When I started my transition, I dropped the mask, shed my skin, and left the boy behind. I committed to being as completely authentic as possible; to be grounded, and to live in the moment moving forward. MY life, in abundance.

For me, that has meant embracing my heritage, expressing it. I’ve always been proud of my cultural origins. As a little Fia, I had the honor of knowing some of the immigrant members of my family. From them, I learned of our journey to the states, the difficult situations we left behind, and much of our traditions. 

I also learned of our Romani background. Being Sicilian, in the areas I lived, in the TIME I lived, came with stigma, and discrimination. Romi folks have it worse, so I was told to keep that part of me to myself. To assimilate. I was in college before I understood why.

Over the years, as I researched my family history, I have become aware of the continuing persecution of Romani people, who - to this day, are denied access to basic human rights and face a life of poverty, discrimination, violence, and exclusion.

Part of my research led me to mr. R. Lee, a Canadian Roma who taught linguistics in Toronto, and who is responsible for creating the written form of Kalderash - the most widely spoken dialect of the Romani language. With his help, I discovered that the DeRosa part of my family is connected to the Napulengere clan of Sicilian Romani, which travels along the Salerno coast and in Sicily. I know my mother’s side also has similar origins, but so far have not connected them to a specific tribe. It’s difficult for me to communicate the significance of this information, and how deeply rooted in my identity it is. 

As part of my investigation, I recently did one of those DNA things - “23 and me,” which goes into great regional detail, the trail of my clan, and the various conquering nations in Sicilian history.

I like knowing where I’m from, who my people are. It gives context to how I got to where I am, and empowers me as I begin this new chapter in my ancestral narrative. 

Just thought I’d share… ❤

Inked| Galion, OH

I have large feet! This right here is the closest I’ll ever be to being tattooed.

[Greenwich, OH] Meet me in the Woods

[Leesville, OH] Shall we wander.

[Greenwich, OH] Birch, like the tree.

[Greenwich, OH] Harvest Time

[Leesville,OH] Secret of Life