The bitch is back

I realize now that I've been jumping so far into the future that I've forgotten about my present.  I've done that all my life.  I create anxiety for myself entertaining my brain with the 'what if' phenomenon.

There isn't a chance that I will ever know what is in the future for myself and my love.  I don't get to know what my love will look like.  Right now, Papi is here with me and the only change is that 'man stink', which is being masqueraded with smelly soaps.

Papi may look good after the upheaval, but my mind jumps to the people that have not transitioned very well and think it's ok to look like a dumpy middle aged man.  I've been reminded by the lovely doctor yesterday that if Papi is someone who takes pride in appearance in present day, that this will more than likely continue in the future.

Oh, speaking of the doctor, I had an interesting reminder of the femme that was on psychological leave for 6 weeks.

When I took the elevator up to the doctor's office yesterday, I was accompanied by an obvious F-M.  He looked about 12 years old.  I knew exactly which office he was going to, but he had no idea I'd be following in his wake, because to the world we femmes are an invisible member of the gay community.

Upon entering the cramped space of the waiting room, there were 2 chairs.  One was inhabited by a purse and jacket, the other was free.  This unripe F-M took the empty seat.

My mind was telling me to say, "Ok, listen.  If you're going to do this, there's some things you've got to learn.  The first thing is you need to be a gentleman and offer the lady a seat."

Chivalry is dead.  Well, except in the case of my love.  But I digress ...

Instead of saying it with words, I stood and made the young buck uncomfortable by standing directly in front of him, peering over his shoulder at books.  I couldn't tell you what any of them were.  I was just looking at nothing really.

Then I decided that like a good femme, I needed my lip gloss, so I proceeded to take care of my ego right in front of the perched developing fledgling.

Out of the office came the happiest fag I've ever seen and lo and behold, he was shocked that I was standing!  There's the gentleman!  He apologized profusely for the seat being taken over by the doctor's pretty belongings.

"Oh dear, she likes to throw her things all over the place.  But then, it is her office.  I suppose she can do whatever she wants," he said with a sweet giggle.

He removed them and gave the lady a seat.

I said sarcastically, "I wasn't sure if that was a seat that was being saved for someone who really needed it," with a smile.

I took my seat all the while still exuding the massive amounts of energy that I tend to have.  The youngin' beside me seemed to vanish from my wattage and I realized at that point that I'm doing much better.

The bitch is back.

When I had my session with the lovely doctor, I realized that I certainly AM doing much better.  I delved into the far little corners of my pain and only once did a few little tears escape my eyes.  I don't consider that crying.  That was just a leak.

I left feeling stronger, but I had feared the future would have me leaving the office with red swollen eyes and matching nose.  I didn't.  I strutted out the proud femme, and down the elevator I pranced to my waiting chariot and prince.

I remember the doctor had said that my voice on the phone sounded like I was so very small.  That was how I felt.  I wanted to get smaller and smaller and just vanish.  Witnessing my behavior in the waiting room and in the session, I realized I've grown.

I had a phone call from a friend last night and we spoke for 2 and a half hours about 'it', about a certain person in the community who pushes people to delve into 'it' and about life's past experiences in general.  There were no tears.  There wasn't even a leak.

There was a lot of anger and a lot of fun banter, but I was far from tiny.  I enjoyed my company right up to the phone threatening to kill the conversation at 4%.

I'm beginning to see the robust Andréa again.

God it's been a long month and a half.  I'm so glad I'm feisty again.

It has certainly been a happy new year.