Silence

So it happened just like that... Donna found me a tab on a piece of paper that had some phone numbers for a room for rent in the same neighborhood. Now I'm living in a room all by myself, which is a bit stuffy from the heat, and the carpet is a little stained, but is otherwise, quite comfortable. I can't get the internet running on my Xbox360, and I'm waiting to get my pc repaired, and in the mean time, I feel really, really alone.
I've reached a point in my transition where I pass more easily, though not fantasically. I'm at a point in life, where my family is coming to terms with who I am. My mom and grandpa saw me for the first time in my female clothes, and they hugged me, and I feel a little more comfortable around them. They are still calling me by my boy's name, and using male pronouns, but they are beginning to realize that it is in error. My life is moving forward in strides, and some of them I thought would never achieve reality... so why do I feel so sad as I'm typing this?
Honestly I know why I'm sad, I'm asking myself rhetorically. I'm lonely, and scared, in a new house, with new people, the landlady and her tenants are friendly and warm to me, even given what I am, but with no internet, my world has been completely severed from me in this foreign place. No friends all the time, and most of all, no girlfriend. I feel like I fell off the world into a new life, as Sara. My former roommate is still nearby, and we're still best of friends, but she's got so much going on that I don't feel comfortable calling her, I just don't know what to say to her.
The feeling of loneliness is worsened by the terror I feel of my neighbors. The next door neighbors give me all the usual stares, and they have a bunch of rough looking teenagers that congregate outside their house. The tenant in the room next to mine, with her little girl, is more or less a stranger to me, and I'm afraid too, that ignorant of my reality, she thinks me to be some kind of pervert, or freak. I wonder if she fears that I'm a danger to her daughter or something. I'm not used to being thought of in that way, by anyone I have a chance of meeting again. I guess I should get used to it since I'll be going back to school soon.
My ID finally arrived just before I moved with a problem attached, my middle name, was misspelled with two a's and I now have to turn it in to fix the problem. Yet another burden to overcome. The room was previously a disaster, but I've turned it into something a little less monstrous, now that I've organized it a bit. I'll have an old computer set up soon and hopefully I'll have the internet back, and then this move won't be as painful. Until next time, that's all the news about my own life. Sara

The scattered mists of womanhood

Today I spoke with my grandfather, it never ceases to amaze me how iron-willed and open minded he is, despite the fact that for almost two years my mother FORBADE me to tell him of my transsexual status, and my plans of transitioning from male to female. She swore he'd have a heart attack and die. Natural causes were the most condemning threat my parents used on me for the longest time. If I should shave my legs or wear a dress, my parents bodies would give way to the shock and stress, and pass away. Far be it for me to begin hormone treatment, and change my name. Charged with the guilt of my mother's murder how could I transition in comfort, but as you can see, my family is still there. I do worry for my elderly grandmother though.

He told me every time he comes to see me, grandma asks if I look different when he comes home, and he tells her I look the same, and he doesn't know what exactly I'm doing. Ouch, do I really look exactly the same? My body is changed so much, and my face is so soft compared to the Carpathian mountains I had for a jaw when I started, heavily forested and all. I do wear baggy clothes though, when I see my family, so as to make things easier on them.

I didn't want to tell him that I dress as a girl now, that I fear for my life taking the train at night, but somehow the conversation, and all the wonderful and terrifying truths came out. His main concern is for my safety, that is, that people do not lash out with physical violence. My concern is also this. I can get used to dirty looks and cruel remarks, but if someone shoots me in the face what am I gonna say to that?

Where the hell is the balance, between dressing in a way that brings me a sense of identity, and dressing in a way that provokes disaster, or does such a thing even exist. I don't wear dresses yet, and I don't really wear my skirt that often. I started painting my nails and stuff, I haven't gotten on to make-up for the simple issue of I have no idea how to apply makeup without making myself look like a clown. I've never done it before. The dirty looks have started up as expected, but what do I do?

I came home and took my baggy shirt off, my tight tank top underneath, in my opinion far more flattering, but apparently I'm too fat for something that shows a lil of my tummy, so I'll only wear it as an under...thing. So says my roommate and her mother anyways. After talking a bit with my friend, she told me that she was talking with her friend, about my apparently, ape-like posture and mannerisms. I didn't know it was that bad... apparently she did a walk like me in front of her friend, and her friend laughed and said "that's just mean." I really didn't realize I was quite this bad. I know I need work but geeze.

So after this I received a bit of coaching on walking and standing more like a girl, and I tried as best as I can to correct my ape-like posture and walk. Another description I heard tonight was "bull-dyke" I think that's a bit of an improvement to "ape-like" since most butch chicks I know, are far more civilized than apes. She told me to stand with one leg straight and that hip up, and the other leg at an angle. I see girls standing like that alot, but it seems an exaggeration to stand like that ALL the time. I guess I'm one big walking social faux-pas, no wonder people stare at me, as though I were the Frankenstein monster.

Later however she told me something chillingly painful. She said that in discussion of me, her and her friend said my aura was androgynous, neither male nor female. Consider me what you will, in believing in auras and such things, but this roommate, friend of mine, for all her flaws, is someone I trust implicitly for council on all things regarding the spirit. If she told me that, there is no doubt in my mind that it must be the truth.

So why the hell does knowing that, though I believe I already knew it, hurt so much. I'm not having second thoughts about transitioning. I'm not regretting what I've become. I'm not considering transitioning back into a man, the thought seems absolutely abominable. I know I'm not the very model of a typical feminine woman, particularly in the unforgiving world of transsexual stereotypes... but I always believed myself to be a woman nonetheless.