Shaking in my boots ...

It's hard to see what someone else is experiencing if you haven't been there already.

My love wanted me to read more of the myths and transgender information.  Papi asked, "Do you want to look at them some more and see if there's anymore questions you have?"

I'd really had enough when I thought my love was trying to hint that he was gay.

"No, not right now.  Maybe another day, but not right now."

I have enough to chew on at the moment.

My heart is trying to deal with the fact that I need to revisit old demons.

I never would have thought this would come up.  I've already done so much work around it.

None-the-less, my love just can't understand that when there was phony penises before, they didn't bother me.  Now that they're attached to a person who's giving of an air of male-bodied-ness, it is a different story all together.

Papi could never really see why I am triggered by this.  Mi esposo is one of the lucky people in this world who hasn't suffered the trauma of another person's offense.

However, it's not much different than me not understanding being transgender.  I could never really get it.

I am learning though.

We were discussing how I don't really know much about the process.  For example, I didn't know that the whole process takes 5 years to complete.

I really thought that there would be a new person in my bed in a heartbeat.

It's slow enough that I can work out the changes one by one.  They affect me, and I need to deal with them, but so far I've gotten through.

Then my love told me, "The most ignorant thing you've really thought was that transgender people are a third gender."

I just couldn't get past this thinking.

I suppose I really am a black or white person.

Male.

Female.

Third gender.

It's the only way I could process it, but it's not true.

Every person is not a cookie cutter of the next.  There's no way to generalize with every person.

However, I am now seeing why I've had an aversion to being in a relationship with an F-M.

The whole male thing really gets to me.  Being in the closet for so long has taken it's toll on me.

If I wanted companionship, then I'd have to appease my homophobic, religious family.

I had to date males.

It was very difficult and I spent those years obliterating my mind with drugs and alcohol just to deal with the fact that I didn't really want to be with male beings.

When I finally decided to come out of the closet, I thought I was home free and never had to deal with a male being in my bed ever again.

Here I am.

I get it now.

I understand why I am closed minded to the transgender world.

I need to feel safe, and the only person who could help me get through this phase is Papi.

I wouldn't have been able to get there with anyone else.

My love has made me promise that I will work on this to get past it.  Mi esposo wants me well, and in turn wants our relationship to be well also.

Of course, I would do anything for Papi.

That includes working with my ghosts so that I may have a relationship without fear.

It makes me shake.

Back off bitches!

The Hen Peckers are at it again.  Only this time, they're attacking Papi.

don't you fuck with my baby, bitches!! i don't care if your a he, a she, both or none of the above, your behaviour grants the title 'bitches'!!

The Trans Clique is spewing their defamation about my love on forums.

They have no idea about mi esposo's situation, but they feel that Papi should be following their orders.

like tiny little soldiers we all fall in line ...

Papi's job is a difficult subject that my love and I have spoken about numerous times, and mi esposo doesn't take this job for granted.  Papi is very aware of the transition being discussed amongst management at this company, and is waiting for them to figure out this issue on their own.

You see, my love started working at a transition safe house for abused, mentally ill women a few years ago.  Only 'women' can work there, and only 'women' can be housed there.  However, there has been an M-F who was taken in.

The women were uncomfortable with this transgender person at first, because she still had a penis and walked around with a short house coat.

Yet, over time, they became used to the soul inside and accepted her as one of their own.

Stress the words; over ... time ...

The women there adore my love.  Rightfully so!  Papi has the biggest heart of anyone I've ever known.  Mi esposo is perfect for the job, because of this.

Abused, mentally ill people need to have this love in their lives, just as much as they need consistency.

I know that these souls would be heartbroken if my love were fired from this job, or even if Papi left by choice.

My love has been slowly telling these broken souls in a sweet way, that they have to be prepared for the day when mi esposo must say, "Farewell."

Slowly ... over ... time ...

It's giving them a chance to mentally prepare for the day when they have to let go of Papi, when it's my love's own time to depart.

Papi knows that time is ticking and that there will come a day when mi esposo must say goodbye, but just like in a romantic relationship, right now is not the 'right time' to break up.

Well, when my love was written about in the newspaper, the trans mafia read it, and are now spitting words of venom over the fact that mi esposo is still working in a facility that employs only 'women'.

What ever happened to free thinking, not being labeled by society, and supporting one another by understanding each other's own journey is just that; their own?

Nope.

The clan is saying that my love is double dipping and being a woman when it's convenient, and being a male when it's advantageous.

One of the biggest ring leaders is adamant that nobody label them as male or female, so how dare they label my love as only a male?

Papi shed a few tears from the hens pecking at my love's beautiful skin.

Cliques.

They are just insecure, scared beings who can't be alone from the clan.  They don't allow free thinking.  They demand you be just like them so they will accept you.

Papi and I are both one in the same kind, who allow each other to think how we feel.  We correct each other when we're too far away from PC thinking that may hurt another.  We love each other and the friends we have, because they, and we, accept each other for who we are.

We don't fit in to these mobs.

We and our friends don't fit in together.

So, in an essence, we are doing our very best to weed out the cliques one by one, find the real friends that we deserve, and feel the pain when the Hen Peckers break our skin.

My love is not hurting anyone by being at work.  Quite the contrary.  Papi's presence would be terribly missed.

If Papi triggered anyone into feeling that my love is an intimidating male, mi esposo would ask to be moved to a different facility in the company.

It's not the pack's choice.

Go on then.  Live your own life.

We'll be living ours with the people who show us love.

Looks like Papi will be making his own Trust List.

and yes.  it was difficult for me to type 'his', so shoot me.

Sleep.

She is such a hurt young lady, and occasionally, she has to have her quality time to continue healing.

She definitely flows through my tears, and lives deep within my heart.  In that place that she calls home.

the pit of doom ... familiar ... still not ready to leave for good ... there's a nice La-Z-Boy down there.

I've coddled her and dressed her wounds that seem to be improving at a stupendous speed.  I sent her off to go sleep away the injury.  We need to have a suspension of consciousness to heal.

Poor thing is exhausted and through her slumber, is indeed erasing the prior molestation of her self-imposed quiet.

Prior to settling her in, I took her out to a few places where she could feel that she's ok to be herself, and trust in the good of people once more.

Now I can have my time back.

Yesterday was a beautiful day full of surprises, as I found 2 more people to add to the Trust List.

Both came completely out of the blue.

A gentle soul told me in a kind way that my language wasn't quite correct.  This sweet person helped me to learn a little more about their transgender world.

I was corrected and learned from him that not all F-Ms are of the third gender, and in turn I thanked him for new found friendship.  I also made sure he knew I was grateful that he didn't try hurting me with words, and that I was welcoming him as a new heart to top off the Trust List.

This person said to me, "I may not be a good friend, I've never learned how to be.  I am here though."

It was my turn to correct him.  "All you have to do is be here to be a good friend.  By making me feel better, you have proven your friendship."

I left the conversation feeling that I was stronger yet again.  Someone didn't judge me for my ignorance, but allowed me to learn through a peaceful conversation.

My vocabulary and knowledge have been reformed.

When Papi said, "If you want to learn more why don't you look online and read about it."

I replied in honesty, "Because I want to learn on my own by asking questions and learning from my mistakes."

It's how I've always done it.

It's familiar.

and we all know how little i like change ...

The 2nd heart I collected was someone I've known for years on end through a secret, anonymous club for drunks.  I just would never expected we'd sit and have a conversation about current day life.

I don't know why I wouldn't expect it.

This ally was there through my toughest years of getting clean and sober.  This friend has been a fixture since I walked into those rooms filled with the after burn of alcohol.

Why would it be so shocking to me that I wouldn't be judged by someone who has walked through the steps of mental health and spiritual wholeness?

I see now that the day I felt the hurt was a day I let my guard down.

I am surrounded by strength and love, but I have to know when to harness it and be honest with my weakness.

I see now that it's not good to be in physical agony, nor pumped full of pain meds that will change the chemical balance of my brain, when I go to these places I fear.

Having my guard down means the hurt teenager will come to play.

She needs her time and she's not finished healing yet.

I can't let go of her hand for a second or she runs around the room with her arms in the air screaming, "Look at me!  Look at me!  See my pain!  I see the hate in your eyes and you can't fool me!  I know who you are!!!"

She's a bugger, but I let go of her hand at the wrong time.

Most definitely, it's good to see where she's at.

It's kinda like stopping the pain killers to actually see how much your injuries ail.

I won't be doing that for a while, and goddamn she needs a definite time out.

Sleep little one, I'm going out into the world again today.

Get over it.

"Your blog has been boring because it hasn't been about me.  But I guess that's ok, because it means you're getting better."

And within the same heartbeat I heard, "I think my nipples aren't healing properly, one doesn't look like the other.  I'm afraid the outer skin is not going to fall off and they'll look weird.  Hey, do I have ass hair?"

ass hair ... really?

Papi then proceeded to bend over wave the one eyed, stark white orb in my face.

"No, sweety, you don't have ass hair."

thank gawd!

When we were out the other day, someone mentioned that they'd like to have a camera and just follow us around.

The Papi & Andréa show.

I told her, "We already have that.  It's my blog."

There's plenty to go on about here.

I have issues, and I write about them.

Most people hide their contention out of embarrassment, but I prefer to let people know that if they have the same problems as I, then we are are no different and it's really ok to talk about it.

Rather; it's really important to talk about it.

Here's one that I need to deal with.

'They'.

We're back at the pronoun dilemma folks.

Being a persnickety officer of grammar and spelling, when I hear that people don't want to be called 'he' or 'she', but prefer to be called 'they', I get uncomfortable.

It's not proper grammar.

'They' refers to 2 people, and transgender people are beings of The Third Gender.  So, unless someone has dual personality disorder, then this is only one person.

I cringe whenever Papi informs me that another butch has denounced their gender of female.

But here's the real problem; I get a look of disdain, or roll my eyes when I'm told a transgender would like to be referred to as 2 people.

'They'.

So, I've been thinking about the question that Papi asked me, "What does it matter to you what they want to be referred to as?"

Really?

I don't know.

What does it matter to me?

Nobody is hurting anybody by asking to be referred to as 2 people.  It doesn't change the fact that someone is a nice person with a big heart, or, an ego-centric asshole.

It really doesn't matter.

So, I had to come up with a way to deal, or it will continue to be the same conversation with Papi over and over.  I wouldn't want that, because it could become too much of a debate in our relationship, and I prefer the communication and giggles we use to talk 'things' through.

Here's where I got to:  A transgender person really is dual gender.

Dual.

2 genders.

Going through male or female transformation never really makes that person become a bio-male or bio-female, it really just helps someone have the 'appearance' of the gender they feel.

the dysphoria ... being unsettled with what they see in the mirror ... like my eating disorder ... who is that big girl in the mirror?

So.

Then.

That makes someone indeed be 2 people.

'They'.

Now I just have to convince the bratty fucking teenager in my head to get over it.

Wish me luck.

Is 'selfish' one of the 5 stages of grieving?

Soooooo ...

I'm still screwed.

Not that it's really anything out of the ordinary in my world of re-occurring back injury flare ups, but the timing on this one really couldn't be worse.

Remember I was talking about the Gender Odyssey and how they actually accepted me for a subsidy?

Well, there's not a hope in hell that in 48 hours I'll be strong enough to handle a 3 hour drive to Seattle.

Hence, I've missed the Pride Parade, missed being in Dykes on Bikes, and now I'm going to miss going with My Person to Gender Odyssey, even though I've already paid my subsidized entry.

permission to have a temper tantrum now, please?!

What's interesting to me however, is the fact that I was really looking forward to going.

yes. you read that right. i was looking forward to going.

It's a strange phenomenon, because never in my life have I even stopped to consider much about the third gender.  I've been burrowed in my bubble, never thinking that for a second that I may need to take the time to think about the topic.

Really!

I mean, if I'm not going to date an F-M, because it's not what I'm attracted to, why would I need to grow and learn around this?

ahhh ... the irony

No.

I'm just going to date someone of the third gender, be in denial about it for a couple of years, marry them, then 4 months later, sit in a La-Z-Boy for 6 weeks straight sobbing because my soul mate dropped the transgender, male transformation bomb.

So, when I think about the fact that I was looking forward to going, it shocks me.

Now I do want to learn more about my core issues, so that my mind will open further, and there will be acceptance and love around this topic.

this also means I have to learn to love the hairy legs that have popped up on mi esposo.

I actually am grateful to Papi having thrown me into the pit of doom on this one.

There is nobody else in this world that I could love this much, and stay with throughout this.

So in turn, I'm forced to find a place within my heart where this male transformation can fit, and I can be more of a loving person, instead of fighting this every step of the way.

I feel horrible when my love has problems with injections and I'm not there emotionally to help.

Oh, I'm around, but I'll be in the other room, trying to pretend it isn't happening.

if you ignore it, it will go away ... wait ... i've been trying that for almost 9 months now ... how come it hasn't worked yet?!?!?

The other day, my love asked with sincerity, "Honey, if I'm having trouble with my injections, do you think you're able to help me now?"

I wanted to say, "No," like I have from the beginning, but this is my love!

I stopped the bratty teenager from blurting out her negativity and took a look at mi esposo.  I saw the pleading look in Papi's eyes.

I can't keep hanging this sweet soul out to do everything without any support, so I said, "Yes, I can sweety."

This is the person who has been my care-giver since the accident and does everything for me when I need support.

How could I ever not help mi esposo?

How selfish can I be?!

Yes, it's hard, but damn!  It's time to get off the pity pot and start being there for Papi.  If I'm sticking around to see this love through to the end, then I should act like it.

I guess that's why I was excited to go to Gender Odyssey.  It was to be fresh steps into the rabbit hole of my own mania.

I want to learn more about myself and my clandestine contention around all this.  I really want to be of support and giving of love.

I have to remember that if it were reversed, Papi would drop everything to help me.

politics, politics

Our home has been invaded by Americans!!!!

And it's nice to have them.  Especially when one of them is on your Trust List, and the other is an honorary Trust List newbie as of last night.

I see myself as transphobic a lot.  I assume this is because I have adverse feelings about my love's male transformation.

I'm reminded time and again that there are other people out there who would feel the same way if their love decided to switch camps.

It was really nice to be understood last night.  I forget that when I'm overwhelmed with feelings about the transformation that I have people to go to.

time for a trust list pow-wow i think!

It was not a berating of F-Ms.  It was an honest 'this is my opinion' or 'this is my feeling' or 'this is my veiwpoint' bull session.

We went from the slip of a pronoun to me making my claim again, "I can't call E a male, because all I will ever see is my butch," to "the M-Fs who want to be at the Michigan Womyn's Music Festival don't want to come to bond with women, they only want to make their politics loud."

Women's spaces are a touchy subject in our community.  For many reasons.  The Yanks told me about some F-Ms who will go as 'she' to this Festival just so that they can find the femmes and get laid.

Yes.

There is a reason it's a touchy subject.

When Papi and I go to play parties, there have been numerous occasions where we will engage in sexy time.

hey, what can i say, i'm an exhibitionist.

I only feel safe to do so if there are women in the room.

Just like the times I would partake in the art of stripping for our yearly women's strip show, Diva's Den.

In front of women, I am free to be and do whatever and whomever I want.

However, this year, the organizers started allowing bio-males into the play party.  I understand.  It's a business, but it certainly put the halt on my sexual escapades.

I am completely uncomfortable with anything to do with sex around bio-males.

I imagine this is because of issues from my childhood.

duh!

Regardless, I just don't feel comfortable.

This is where it gets messy.

I know F-Ms want to be seen as male, and to the general straight community, they are.  Yet to me, I can spot one pretty fast and all I see is an F-M.  Not a male.

I feel bad for this the moment I see them as such, because they want to be seen as male, but you can't hide those female eyes and female interactions.

You won't see an F-M pissing on a wall in front of a femme who is saying, "Really buddy?!?  Do ya have to do this right here?  There's a washroom right inside the hospital!!"

This bio-male told me to, "Fuck off," and continued wagging his willy right in front of my bus and the clients.

No, this is not the action of an F-M.

This is because an F-M is still a third gender.  They are neither.

I only wish my love could be comfortable as such, and not feel the need to swing the pendulum to the other side of male-ness.

dream on hard on

Anyway, this rant was a leftover from my Trust List and honorary Trust List newbie.

It felt good to be understood and told, "No.  You're not transphobic.  You have a certain taste of what you find attractive."

One more little stone to build my wall of strength.

Whispers ...

Ah the nightmares I have.  Really!

So last night Papi wasn't a minotaur, my love was just dying.

But here's the best part: my love wanted to be single for the last year of living.

yeah ... because dying, shriveling people are soooooo sexy

Anyway, it's so strange, because I really feel like we're having a wonderful time, to the point where this really does feel like a 2nd honeymoon.

Our actual, the 1st, was ridiculous.  Papi was obviously manic, because we were up every fucking morning at 7 to go on excursions.

It's a little better this time around.  We get some days where we'll actually sleep in and miss breakfast.  That's when it feels like we're on holiday.

But honestly, everything we've seen here is amazing.

Today we went to a wonderful place called the Monkey Jungle.  100% of the profits goes to help Haitian villages and to saving abused Squirrel Monkeys.  Also, when Haitian people need medical care, they can simply go to these people and have the care for free.

All I can say is, this kind of philanthropy is what I would love to be doing when we move here.

my mind ... revving thinking of how i can be of service to these people ...

No bubbling skin today.  The clouds gave me a bit of a break, but even still, it's so warm.

We leave in 4 days, this paradise will be behind us and I go back to reality.

Papi has been female here and it really has been a nice break, but sometimes it feels weird, because I was just getting my head wrapped around the male transformation.

A young girl on our monkey tour asked me, "Is that your sister, or your friend?"

I answered, "We're married."  She looked so very confused.

What I didn't know was that Papi had been asked the same question 4 times by others on this tour.

This wouldn't be happening if my love had no breasts.

This is where I find myself wondering if I'm more on page with mi esposo than I really give myself credit for.

am i?

I see my love in the eyes that Papi sees occasionally.  I'm getting more used to seeing this.

It's not like the horrifying views I get of myself in the mirror.

the mirror always lies ... gobs of fat oozing over my pants ...

I get more peaceful sights of my love.

I will look at my love and say, "Mi guapo esposo."  My love asked me what it means.  When I told Papi it means 'you're my handsome husband', my love looked proud.

I do see my love as handsome.  I always have.  My handsome, masculine woman.

But this thought doesn't seem right anymore.

It just seems like a confusing ideal.  Papi is not a woman.  Papi has the best of both worlds, making my love a Third Gender.

This is a gender that the majority of the world can't accept.  They only want to see one or the other.

I really believe, that if the world could see this 3rd gender, then my love wouldn't feel the need to be seen as one or the other.  My love would accept the beautiful person that 'is'.

I wish we lived in this world now.  Then maybe Papi wouldn't feel the pressure to cut out pieces of that body I love so much.

The Countdown.

It definitely didn't get left behind in Vancouver.  It's a lot more of a whisper while we're here, while my love and I just get to enjoy each others company with laughs and silliness of chickens crossing the road and 4 people to a scooter.

Perhaps I can keep it to a dull roar when we return?

Stranger things have happened.