A few weeks ago, I did a report about the use of Adult learning theory in a given doctoral thesis. In that thesis, it mentioned how older students returning to school have anxiety about the experience. The paper is cited at the bottom, if you care. (Also if you care, when I started this entry, I'd done that report that day.)
True. I am actually more conscious about my age than being transgender. I am old enough to be most of my colleagues' parent. I'm older than at least two of my professors (of three.) I'm also the fattest, something that disgusts me every minute of every day. "Do something about it!" I'm trying. (One thing I'm doing is not eating. Despite people's generosity, medical bills [like the mammogram 2 years ago that wasn't covered because I'm trans] destroyed what budget I had. I'll try the local food bank on Monday. But, as I mentioned, I can stand to lose a few hundred pounds.)
I wrote that PSU is a different place, and I'm a different person. One thing is constant though: depression. It hit me so hard the past few weeks. Since I last saw my daughter, really.
One thing hasn't changed- there are So many gorgeous women here. What has changed are the styles. Now all the co-eds wear yoga pants which show off their curves etc. Not that I'm jealous. Ok, I am. Curves. No... birth defect. When I was an undergrad, I always thought out they were all out of my league- why would they want to talk to me? Occasionally now, someone sees one of my undergrad pics and says how "handsome" I was. Yet, I couldn't get a date to save my life. I digress.
How do cis women deal with this competition? Granted, there are pretty much one guy for every girl at PSU, but some of the girls are stunning, while others are just beautiful. Yes, I know I'm being superficial- but I'm still new at this. Did the coeds think that way in my time?
They're young enough to be my daughters. Get off my lawn.
I've had some Medical issues. Since oh... June? my left arm has been pretty much useless. As you can imagine, that made moving kind of hard. Well, I finally saw a doctor about it. X-rays. A specialist with PSU sports medicine. Annnnnd... well, it MAY be tendonitis, or it may be the rotator cuff. In any case, the doctor gave me some hard core meds... but I'm afraid to use them as I'm afraid of dependency. My arm is so bad, I need Linda's help to take off my bra at the end of the day.
A few weeks back was Homecoming here at PSU. I went to the fraternity house, where they put on a small spread. Homecoming used to be a big deal at the house. Top shelf liquor, a formal, the house was scrubbed top to bottom... the works. Now, the alumni were a couple hour afterthought.
And so last week was Halloween. Halloween marked ELEVEN years since the night where I "rediscovered" myself. I wrote the following on my facialbook:
"Today marks 11 years since my femme self re-awakened to destroy my life.
And it did."
This Halloween, I went to an LGBT Graduate student mixer. There were six of us. I had fun. I also went to Chumleys for a moment. Then home. The guy across the hall was having a gathering, so I stopped there for a bit. His brother was a hard core trumpanzee who kept misgendering me while staring at my breasts.
I went home drunk. And tired. And now it's November.
True. I am actually more conscious about my age than being transgender. I am old enough to be most of my colleagues' parent. I'm older than at least two of my professors (of three.) I'm also the fattest, something that disgusts me every minute of every day. "Do something about it!" I'm trying. (One thing I'm doing is not eating. Despite people's generosity, medical bills [like the mammogram 2 years ago that wasn't covered because I'm trans] destroyed what budget I had. I'll try the local food bank on Monday. But, as I mentioned, I can stand to lose a few hundred pounds.)
Walking home from a missed tailgate
I wrote that PSU is a different place, and I'm a different person. One thing is constant though: depression. It hit me so hard the past few weeks. Since I last saw my daughter, really.
One thing hasn't changed- there are So many gorgeous women here. What has changed are the styles. Now all the co-eds wear yoga pants which show off their curves etc. Not that I'm jealous. Ok, I am. Curves. No... birth defect. When I was an undergrad, I always thought out they were all out of my league- why would they want to talk to me? Occasionally now, someone sees one of my undergrad pics and says how "handsome" I was. Yet, I couldn't get a date to save my life. I digress.
How do cis women deal with this competition? Granted, there are pretty much one guy for every girl at PSU, but some of the girls are stunning, while others are just beautiful. Yes, I know I'm being superficial- but I'm still new at this. Did the coeds think that way in my time?
They're young enough to be my daughters. Get off my lawn.
I've had some Medical issues. Since oh... June? my left arm has been pretty much useless. As you can imagine, that made moving kind of hard. Well, I finally saw a doctor about it. X-rays. A specialist with PSU sports medicine. Annnnnd... well, it MAY be tendonitis, or it may be the rotator cuff. In any case, the doctor gave me some hard core meds... but I'm afraid to use them as I'm afraid of dependency. My arm is so bad, I need Linda's help to take off my bra at the end of the day.
A few weeks back was Homecoming here at PSU. I went to the fraternity house, where they put on a small spread. Homecoming used to be a big deal at the house. Top shelf liquor, a formal, the house was scrubbed top to bottom... the works. Now, the alumni were a couple hour afterthought.
And so last week was Halloween. Halloween marked ELEVEN years since the night where I "rediscovered" myself. I wrote the following on my facialbook:
"Today marks 11 years since my femme self re-awakened to destroy my life.
And it did."
This Halloween, I went to an LGBT Graduate student mixer. There were six of us. I had fun. I also went to Chumleys for a moment. Then home. The guy across the hall was having a gathering, so I stopped there for a bit. His brother was a hard core trumpanzee who kept misgendering me while staring at my breasts.
Halloween night
I went home drunk. And tired. And now it's November.
Clemente, K. A. (2010).
Experiences of Adult Students in Multi-generational Classrooms.
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