I'm like an elephant.
I never forget.
I can forgive quite easily, as we are definitely not perfect beings.
It's part of the reason why I'm so sensitive to cliques actions, and why I have social anxiety.
I've run into the issue of being ostracized by mobs since I was a little girl. Over and over again these throngs of people prove how mean they can be.
I really thought that it would get better at this developed point in life. I mean c'mon! We're adults here, are we not?
some of us have that nattering teenager inside ...
But just like elephants never dismissing a memory, some people are like feral cats and never change their loathsome habits.
I sat with a Trust List friend the other day, whom I told about my issues with 'learning'. How I prefer to ask questions and learn from my mistakes to educate myself.
I mean really.
My biggest lessons have come through the err in my imperfect ways.
However, she looked at me with sympathetic sincerity, while asking me if it really is a method I would recommend sustaining.
I reminded myself, at the same time I told her, "I usually do these things until I'm sick of the pain, or finally realize they don't actually work."
I'm wondering if perhaps I should take a look at my scarcity of wisdom in the transgender world.
I've been so pig headed about the whole thing. I've only been letting in what I can handle, to be honest.
Yet, I really feel that I'm much more secure now. This allows me to be much more inquisitive, and simultaneously, more willing.
i am the queen of denial ... and denial ain't a river in egypt ...
Papi and I went to a movie the other day about transgender people. 3 people told their stories and one of them was a very young child.
The parents of this child were so supportive of their kid being trans. It was really quite beautiful. They fumbled through this new world, learning as they went. All the while, they supported their offspring by allowing this person to decide who they wish to be.
Next came an F-M who had a struggle all through his life because everyone else could see that this 'girl' was not the same as the other 'girls'.
He spoke about his upbringing, the first person who accepted the male inside as 'Tom', and his isolated voyage in this quest of finding who he really is.
We didn't get to see the third person, because Papi's stomach erupted from a bad case of 'alfredo sauce from hell'.
It didn't really matter that I didn't get to see the third one. The first two were enough for me to feel so deeply for my love, and the titanic trouble Papi must have endured to finally get to a point of acceptance of the male within.
My love had said to me early on in the drop of the bomb, "The reason I found strength to come out about my need to change genders, is because I knew I could trust you to keep loving me, and that you wouldn't leave me."
Papi was right. I'm not going anywhere.
But damn! I've got a lot of learning to do, opinions to change, and fear to overcome.
Nevertheless, there was one comment that stood out in the verbal exchange of femme to femme love with my Trust List friend the other day, that still reverberates in my mind.
I had blurted out, "My love is stronger than my fear."
My friend was jubilant to hear these palpable words, and stressed that I should place this bold statement around the house. That way, I could see these words when I fret about my future with my soul mate who is becoming another gender.
There's really nothing to be afraid of.
I've gotten past that point.
So now, the work must begin.
Anyone feel like giving me a loving nudge?