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um... who me? uh i guess i'm the lounge's resident tranny. old school bustie formerly known as butta.

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entry Jul 10 2007, 12:26 AM
the last couple of weeks have been a bit weird, but then, all my weeks are weird. welding class is offically done, and now comes the time to look for work... and i am scared shitless. there is so much that pushes me to be brave-- to work beyond what terrifies me, and i put on a brave face most of the time, but sometimes i can't. it's beyond me.

daddy was nice enough to ask me to go to portland with her. she needed to get her dreads redone, and with nothing but bills staring me in the face, if you asked me to go to the 7th circle of hell i'd have asked when the next flight was leaving.

i'm not the best traveling companion. i'm not. i used to be, but this life for me has been one of collapse. my world has shrunk. i am ruled by fear. in some ways this is nothing new, back when i was a boy i would have bouts of agoraphobia-- i never really noticed it until i got a place of my own. roomates always kept thoughts of transitioning and externalizing my body issues at bay. but once i lived alone, i had to face my shit. i felt so fraudulant walking outside dressed in boy clothes. when i had roomates, my vintage 3 piece suits and dreads were my armor, my refuge, but adrift on my own, i felt as if it were a huge lie. i knew internally the path for me, and it haunted me...i was afraid someone would discover my secret. i was paralyzed by the thought.

i remember i used to love traveling-- i was tall enough to be intimidating, even though i was thin as a rail. the dreadlocks added an air of mystery, and well, i am black, and no matter how kind, polite, articulate or whatever adjective you use, that card turns away a lot of fucked up shit. now something as small as just going to the restroom is an ordeal, and i suppose if you aren't trans, you might not understand, but it is still one of the few places where there is sex segregation. anywhere else there is enough to distract people from me, or rules of politeness might keep them from saying or doing anything-- the bathroom that is the place were i'd be most likely to get stares, those whispers that eat self-esteem in gulps. that is where i am most vulernable. the most fragile. it is also the least avoidable place no matter where you go....

i wonder if it's just me, although i know it's not. i've heard transmen talk about this too, and i'd say 95% of transmen pass. it's just instinctual. no matter how many complements people give me, or innocuous questions that would clue me in that i'm probably passing, like people asking me how tall i am, and taking about female relatives who are my height or taller, alleviate my anxiety. i daydream of walking carelessly into a bathroom, not caring, not worried for a second. but that seems impossible.... when i think about this, and other similar, innocuous fears, i feel handicaped. crippled by my rational irrationality.

i understand so much about being handycapped, i think, even though i am able-bodied. i understand the sting when you look at someone and they nervously look away, unsure how to cope with my difference, overwhelmed by the guilt of a lingering glance. i know that dis-ease. i used to get it when i was a boy and i would see someone who was trans. perhaps for me it was because i knew that i was trans too, but hidden in my armor of shame....

but i was talking about travel. i used to be the best person to travel with, i loved looking for the hidden places, the nooks and crannies of any city. endlessly exploring them. but my mind travels back to the last time i was in portland with my daddy-- back then she was just my girlfriend, who wanted a romantic weekend, and my phobias got the best of me. i spent the entire time in a very pricey bed and breakfast crying. overwhelmed by even the smallest walk to the corner. i put on a brave face by the last day and found my fears were unfounded, but the walls come crashing down at a moment's notice, and i am reduced to little more than a puddle.

this time i was some what prepared, tho. i had been learning how to 'work my weave', practicing retro hairstyles for one of my drag mom's weddings. i had figured out how to look cute with a minimal ammount of fuss and muss, and the sheen of confidance of having to face people everyday at welding school, still reinforced my posture. i could still put on that mask, that got me thru those fears.

it also helped that my daddy and i have been kind of 'honeymooning'. falling for each other again. this time a bit wiser for wear. already knowing the other's flaws. our daddy/daughter relationship helped too. if i was afraid of doing something, if my fear got the best of me, she could always tell me that she would never let anything happen to me and that i should do it for her, and i would bite my lip and do it. i think she is just sort of figuring all of this out, of course, but she has a lot of power over me, and she is just starting to explore it.

down in portland we had a ball, and her hairdresser remarked that we seemed like we were on the same page, not like the last time we were down, the year earlier.

this time we met a couple down there for coffee, mostly out of my urging. i figured i could use the self esteem boost while i was in the area. they are a bdsm, femme domme couple, a and b. to be more exact, she, a, is the domme, he, alias b, the sub. i have the utmost in respect for them, although i have never seen them play. i don't really need to. the person that i know who is probably one of the top 5 heavy duty masochist subs in seattle says that that b is way more hardcore than he is. which says a helluva lot. ....and b has i HUGE crush on me. i suppose some day i would love to spend a week with them just learning how to do half the things that a does to b, i have a feeling he would be so much fun to play with. i do miss my domme side, and my friend assures me, there are crazy things he would be happy to do for me. i don't think i could really stick with lots of blood play, but it would be nice to try my hand at it. you never know what kink will catch fire next, do you?
i have to laugh that i'm talking so casually about blood play, after saying going to pee is scary. lol.... it's like everything is backwords. i know that some of these things freak people out, but i just shrug...am i a hot mess or what?

after coffee, driving out of town, daddy was talking about how b was lusting after me while we talked and ate. she said anytime i'd ask b a question, he'd get all shy. it was very cute. it's so nice dealing with people you know from the outset are kinky-- and that they love trans stuff? mmm. even better. perhaps that's why i feel more comfortable in a bdsm/queer arena. that is a space where i am the normal, and buffy and biff are the freak....

my daddy relationship is growing more comfortable to me. although, i know daddy doesn't want to live it 24/7, for right now, i crave that. that pull to subspace is so strong. it's a different kind of protection, i don't need an armor, i give my fears, my trouble to daddy. it's a heavy weight. she is sweet to carry it for me for even an instant. although, on occasion, like seeing b, i miss my badass sexy, smirky domina self. i miss that command. its that armor again, but this time it's my interior that's girded. you command respect from the inside. all my insecurities vanish, or maybe i'm strong enough to ignore them on my own. its nice to feel so strong, and see that strength reflected in how people see you. like when b would look at me. or at a... defering constantly, like i am with my daddy. he is everything, like a is to b. and i love that too. how can you not love someone who talks about you like a goddess? that was one of the things that first attracted me to my daddy. back when we were just dating. long before she grew into my daddy, before our break up. the first time we had sex, she was so reverent-- i was her goddess. it felt so good. but i think we both wanted it too much. i really needed to be pushed off my pillar. i needed her to know how flawed i was, and still want me. i needed her to see me for who i was.
.
i suppose it's the polar opposite of how most people see me, they see only the exterior. we stopped at a touristy beach town on the way back. daddy wanted to do the the bumpercars, and see the sights, but i couldn't. i wasn't up to it. the very homogenetity-- if there is such a word--- was suffocating. i felt like i was being looked at cross-eyed constantly. it was, i was. overwhelmed. its that sense of being judged without depth. like my family, like my church. like my mom.

i've been reading this book, drag king dreams, it's by leslie feinberg, who wrote what is the best fiction book about transexuals, stone butch blues. it's kind of funny , but reading his books always deepens my understanding about what this life means, what it is about. he doesn't really offer many answers, only more questions, but that is what this life is, a bunch of unfolding questions. but i think, being a f2m, a transman, he understands that fear. the main charecter, max, is almost nocturnal, not wanting to be seen during the day. it's so funny that being trans comes down to sight, or seeing. at one point he writes about a slightly different kind of seeing, the kind, which, to me is at the heart of love. seeing that person not just warts and all, but their essence, the person they are beyond their body, their pretentions, their facade, to that soul. and he does it so elequently.

love, it's said, is risk. it's even more so with transpeople, there is risk for partners of transfolk, who have to deal with the stigma every bit as much as the person who is differently gendered, but also it's effect, it's opression on them, their fears that they must deal with. my daddy told me that she understood now, why i couldn't always do everything she wanted to. she said she wanted me to get beyond it eventually, but for now she wouldn't push. instead, of idealizing me, she saw me clearly, flawed, afraid, disabled.

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Comments

post Oct 3 2007, 11:15 PM
Comment #1


Hardcore BUSTie
***

Group: Advanced Members
Posts: 213
Joined: 8-February 06
From: vancouver, canada
Member No.: 21,938



hey

I'm a girl ........... with eczema. I have to go into public washrooms to put concealer around the corners of my mouth and

people look at me from the corners of their eye

while i wash off the old makeup and put on the cream to help it (temporarily) heal
and put on the new makeup.
I feel like a flaw.

and I just wanted to say i thought i was the only one who felt so naked in public washrooms. i don't want to downplay the stuff you go through, but-

me, too.

katana


--------------------
creativity? Art Mash-Up
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post Oct 4 2007, 05:28 AM
Comment #2


new highs in personal lows daily!
***

Group: Advanced Members
Posts: 4,307
Joined: 4-December 06
From: wherever ink is put in skin...
Member No.: 24,455



thank you, glassk
sooooooooo freaking much! sometimes it's just nice to hear i'm not the only one. heres one long gt hug from these parts... i see youre from the wetlands too (pacific nw, portland/seattle /vancouver), right on! and thanks for posting a message. i usually think no one reads it. i'll be posting again soon, i just have to get some things out of the way....

gt


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"what a swell farewell party! we said goodbye to everything, including the lining in my stomach." - garvey, from the film, born bad

"That's one career all females have in common, whether we like it or not: being a woman. Sooner or later, we've got to work at it, no matter how many other careers we've had or wanted." --margo channing, all about eve
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