And she's off

 As I start writing this, it's Friday August 14, 2026.  (Here's the part where I insert the cliche "where has the summer gone?  But I know that answer.). And next Thursday, my Daughter goes off to college.  

My little girl, who it seems like only a few days ago was born, is going to college.  She's 18.  She attending a state school not far from where she lives.  We both agreed Penn State was not a good fit for her, as lots of people sometimes makes her uneasy.  

She'll be majoring in early childhood education.  She asked my opinion of the major/career.  I tried to talk her out of it, citing 80 hour weeks, demonization by the right wing, hatred from parents, criminally low pay, and so on.  She remained steadfast.  This is what she wants to do- she wants to help others.  I'm very proud of her.  

Wife and I talked about this a bit today.  The two of them spent the last week together on a cruise.  I wasn't invited, of course.  She knows she'll be a "basket case" that day.  I get it.  

Random Beaver Stadium pic I took the other day

How do I feel?  Numb.  In so many ways, it doesn't change a thing for me.  After all, I was thrown out when she was five.  I missed her entire childhood.  In so many ways I'm a stranger.  After all, I'm currently two and a half hours away. At this point, I rarely see her.  After all, gas costs money and I don't have any.  Hell, I had to beg on GoFundMe to pay medical bills so I could register for fall term.

Oh right- school.  I finally got past the IRB (Internal Review Board) so I can start research.  I've done just that.  I observed the first of hopefully four training classes, and started conducting interviews.  If all goes well, I'll be done research by December , finish the dissertation, and, hopefully, graduate in May 2027.  Then I can be an over-educated retail worker.  I'll come back to the school topic in a bit.

What this means that for the first time in thirteen years, it'll be just Wife and MIL in that house.  No daughter.  It's going to be awfully quiet, even with two cats.  I wonder how Wife will get along in that environment.  

Does anyone even read this blog?

Anyway.  School.  As of this moment, I am not going back for fall.  I don't have the money and the student loan people (PHEAA) turned me down as my credit is currently shit due to all my medical debt (thanks for nothing Keystone BCBS).  Maybe I'll figure out a way to make it happen, but as of now, the dream is over.

Sorry folks.  I just wasn't rich enough.  Or smart enough.  

Reply to "Jason"

 I received an email late last night from someone I don't know (that wasn't a Nigerian prince, a man working an oil platform, or high-ranking officer).  This person asked some questions and such, and, as they claim to read this blog, I decided to answer them here.  I will first post their email verbatim, then answer idea by idea.  Their words appear in italics. 

And I’M CITING SOURCES.  So strap yourselves in folks, this is a long one! (Shorter if you skip the citations, but they're kinda the point.)

 

Me after speaking at Penn State TDOR'25

*******************************************

Jason Borregas (I don’t know anyone by this name.  Or is it a bot?  I’m guessing a person’s pseudonym.  After all, my name isn’t legally Sophie Lynne.  It’s Hortense.)

 From:  jblxxxx@yahoo.com

“I know. It’s strange. But I’ve read your blog for years. I still don’t understand. From my perspective, the whole Sophie lifestyle is a waste. I can’t fathom that you could be born for this. When was the last time you had a financial cushion? When was the last time you had a satisfying career type of employment? Even going back to the game store or Barnes and Noble…was that why you graduated from Penn State? I guess I’m now speaking as your own self talk….but is it a surprise that you’re always depressed? The black out on your facebook profile can’t exclusively be because Penn State shit the bed this year. I’ve worried about you for a long time, you really don’t deserve to live the way you are. Your sphere of influence sincerely attempts to accommodate your chosen identity because they don’t want to be disrespectful, but everyone else sees you as a carnival side show attraction. People intrinsically feel sorry for you, is that the life you want?

 

What would happen if you walked away from the culture of victim status? Face it, your community supports you because they all share the same fantasy. They don’t want to give it up anymore than you do.

You don’t have that many years left, don’t waste them by contributing to the bullshit that is trans ideology. I find it hard to believe that you could be more miserable than you have been while perpetuating this lie.

Actual, real love exists for you. It really does. All the support groups from Keystone or Renaissance on down aren’t more than corner bars with drunks supporting everyone else’s excessive drinking.

You don’t deserve the misery you’ve been living with for SO long. Really.”

****************************************************************

Ok, so now my reply. 

I know. It’s strange. But I’ve read your blog for years. 

>>>Thank you!

I still don’t understand. From my perspective, the whole Sophie lifestyle is a waste.  

>>>Being transgender is not a ‘lifestyle.’  It’s a biological fact.  See citation list at the end of this piece.  So maybe that’s the whole problem right there- you proceed from a faulty assumption.  I addressed this in MANY entries, but especially in Codex Sophie.  (Linked here.)  I didn’t CHOOSE to be transgender.  I don’t WANT to be transgender.  But I am.  So I’m playing the hand I’m dealt.  The other option was to fold.

When was the last time you had a financial cushion? 

>>>For someone who’s read my blog for years, wow- you really don’t know about me.  The answer is NEVER.  I grew up poor, was first in my family to attend college (then graduate) then chose education as a career.  Yeah, I know.  Big mistake.  What was I thinking?  Trying to create a better world for all?  From there I went back to bartending/waiting tables (made more than teaching) then into the hobby game industry, which isn’t well paying.  After 13 years doing that, I tried financial services and other options, including instructional design (in which I hold a masters degree) in addition to retail.  Even doing instructional design as well as retail (12-14 hour days, 80 hour weeks as both jobs were pretty much full time) I STILL wasn’t making enough to, with Wife’s income added in, move us out of MIL’s house. 

Then of course, I was tossed out in 2013, and shit’s been downhill since.

When was the last time you had a satisfying career type of employment?

>>>Satisfying doesn’t equal well paying.  I enjoyed working in books.  I enjoyed working in the game industry.  The most I EVER made was in my last year at Games Workshop: $40K/year in 2003.  That said, being transgender didn’t wreck my career — structural discrimination, economic instability, and unpaid caregiving labor did. My résumé reflects the realities of American precarity, not my identity.

Even going back to the game store or Barnes and Noble…was that why you graduated from Penn State?

>>>Games Workshop is not a “game store.”  From the GW website:

Games Workshop is the largest and the most successful hobby miniatures company in the world. Our major brands are Warhammer and Warhammer 40,000. In addition, we hold a licence for The Lord of the Rings/the Hobbit tabletop battle game. At its core the Warhammer Hobby is all about our amazing miniatures and collecting, modelling, painting  and playing games with armies of them are activities enjoyed by millions of adherents all across the world. (Games Workshop, 2025). 

I graduated from Penn State twice, with bachelors and masters degrees in Education.  Hopefully I’ll add PhD to that in 2026.  So, no.  But few people work in the field that they ‘graduated’ in. 

I guess I’m now speaking as your own self talk…

>>>  No, my self-talk is FAR nastier.  Usually includes the words “useless”, “worthless”, and “stupid.” 

….but is it a surprise that you’re always depressed?  The black out on your facebook profile can’t exclusively be because Penn State shit the bed this year.

>>>  Depression comes from many sources.  Let’s look at ten.  Ones in bold are ones that apply here. 

Altered serotonin, dopamine, and norepinephrine systems play a major role.  Chronic depression is partly inherited. (Cui, X. et al. 2022).

Early Life Trauma.  Strong associations with childhood emotional, physical, or sexual abuse.  (Nelson, J. et al., 2023).

Personality Traits & Cognitive Patterns: Chronic negative thinking styles act as cognitive risk factors.  (Beck, A. et al., 2021).

Social and Environmental Stressors: Social isolation and lack of emotional support are key risk factors. (Monroe, S. M. et al., 2020).

Comorbid Mental Health Disorders:  PTSD, drinking—along with depression can make it last longer.  (Garakani, A. et al., 2022).

Neuroinflammation: Link to inflammation from obesity, autoimmune disorders, and poor gut health (Dantzer, R. et al., 2021).

Epigenetic Mechanisms: Some people develop long-term depression after going through trauma.  (Meaney, M. J. et al., 2020).

Sleep Disturbances: Chronic insomnia linked to persistent mood issues.  (Baglioni, C. et al., 2019).

Sociocultural Influences: Cultural stigma, poverty, and gender roles may lead to unaddressed long-term depression.  (Kirmayer, L. J. et al.,2021).

Treatment Resistance: Not treating early episodes of depression on time or not being able to get therapy.  (Rush, A. J. et al., 2020).

Wow.  Let’s take a break to breathe. 

 

Ok.  Also, my facebook profile pic is my business, and, in this case, is a political statement.

I’ve worried about you for a long time, you really don’t deserve to live the way you are.

>>>  Thank you.

Your sphere of influence sincerely attempts to accommodate your chosen identity because they don’t want to be disrespectful, but everyone else sees you as a carnival side show attraction. People intrinsically feel sorry for you, is that the life you want?

>>>  Really?  Let’s take a poll, shall we?  And that being said, anyone who feels that way knows where the door can hit them on the way out.  As for feeling sorry, I can’t control how other people feel.  That took me decades to figure out.  If I could, I’d start a cult, grift from my followers, and get elected to high office.  Oh wait- that’s already been done. 

And again- I didn’t CHOOSE to be transgender.  I don’t WANT to be transgender.  But I am.  So I’m playing the hand I’m dealt.  The other option was to fold.  The life I want is not an option.  Probably never was.  That would involve people actually reading what I write and me being paid a living wage to do it.  Neither of which is gonna happen.

What would happen if you walked away from the culture of victim status? Face it, your community supports you because they all share the same fantasy. They don’t want to give it up anymore than you do.

>>>  *cracks knuckles*  Right.  Fantasy?  Being transgender isn’t a fantasy.  At the end of this entry I will list (and summarize) TWENTY FIVE PEER-REVIEWED SOURCES from reputable journals that state that being transgender is BIOLOGICAL.  Not a lifestyle.  Not a fantasy.  Seriously- why would ANYONE want to be transgender?  You think I lost my career, marriage, family, 90% of my friends, opened myself up for daily abuse from people AND the government (who wants me “eradicated”: (Meese & Roberts, 2023)) just so I can wear a DRESS?  Wow… just wow.  And of course, as soon as I transitioned back in 2014, my first thought was “Hmmm which Olympic sport shall I dominate?”

Also, give up?  There is no “giving [this] up.”  See: biological, above. 

You don’t have that many years left, don’t waste them by contributing to the bullshit that is trans ideology. I find it hard to believe that you could be more miserable than you have been while perpetuating this lie.

>>>”Bullshit.” “Lie.”  Again, see the scientific sources I cite.  Can you bring anything to refute them?  What?  Tucker Carlson?  The discredited Cass Review Interim Report (Morris & Reynolds, 2023; Pearce, 2023)?  Eighth grade biology class? 

As for being miserable- I was miserable living a lie all my life.  I may not be happy now, but I’m at peace.  I’ll take it.  What makes me miserable is that people believe all the bullshit and lies being spouted by people who have nothing but hate to peddle and who don’t have a fucking clue what they’re talking about. 

Actual, real love exists for you. It really does.

>>> Yes.  She’s my daughter.

 All the support groups from Keystone or Renaissance on down aren’t more than corner bars with drunks supporting everyone else’s excessive drinking.

>>> “Drinking buddies in dresses.”  Yeah, hard to argue that in many cases.  But Renaissance is dry.  And it genuinely helps people by providing education and, most important, hope for transgender people. 

You don’t deserve the misery you’ve been living with for SO long. Really.

“Deserve’s got nothing to do with it” (to quote an Eastwood movie.)  I agree.  Life is far harder when you’re poor — materially, medically, socially — regardless of identity

I genuinely wonder why you “read [my] blog for years” if you believe that being transgender is bullshit?  Do you like my tits THAT much?    Seriously.  Why?  I can’t believe that my words are THAT compelling.  I mean, if they were, wouldn’t I have a publishing contract?  A job that pays a living wage? 

Random Penn State picture is random

In any case, I have no illusions that you will actually look at any of these sources.  Or consider the arguments.  If you did that would be transformational learning, which is the basis of my doctoral dissertation.  Y’know, about anti-transgender hate.  And possible educational solutions. 

Like this.

 

Be well.

Sources

Baglioni, C., Battagliese, G., Feige, B., Spiegelhalder, K., Nissen, C., Voderholzer, U., ... & Riemann, D. (2019). Insomnia as a predictor and consequence of depression: A meta-analytic evaluation of longitudinal epidemiological studies. Sleep Medicine Reviews, 43, 1–11. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.smrv.2018.10.005

Beck, A. T., Dozois, D. J. A., & Clark, D. A. (2021). Cognitive vulnerability and the persistence of depression. Cognitive Therapy and Research, 45(4), 612–627. https://doi.org/10.1007/s10608-021-10208-7

Cui, X., Zhang, Y., Li, W., & Chen, H. (2022). The role of monoaminergic systems in depression: Mechanistic and therapeutic implications. Journal of Affective Disorders, 308, 148–157. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.jad.2022.04.003

Dantzer, R., Cohen, S., Russo, S. J., & Dinan, T. G. (2021). Inflammation and chronic depression: Mechanisms and implications. Nature Reviews Immunology, 21(5), 319–332. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41577-021-00532-3

Garakani, A., Martinez, J. M., & Ginsberg, D. L. (2022). The comorbidity of anxiety disorders and chronic depression. Psychiatry Research, 313, 114579. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.psychres.2022.114579

Kirmayer, L. J., Narasiah, L., & Munoz, M. (2021). Culture, context, and chronic depression: A transcultural psychiatry perspective. Transcultural Psychiatry, 58(3), 234–249. https://doi.org/10.1177/13634615211013214

Meaney, M. J., Szyf, M., & McEwen, B. S. (2020). Epigenetic mechanisms of stress and depression. Annual Review of Clinical Psychology, 16, 283–305. https://doi.org/10.1146/annurev-clinpsy-050718-095514

Meese, E. H. III, & Roberts, P. (Eds.). (2023). Mandate for leadership: The conservative promise – Project 2025. The Heritage Foundation. https://www.project2025.org

Monroe, S. M., Slavich, G. M., & Gotlib, I. H. (2020). Life stress and chronic depression: A meta-analytic review. Clinical Psychology Review, 78, 101854. https://doi.org/10.1016/j.cpr.2020.101854

Morris, S. E., & Reynolds, R. (2023). Pathologising trans youth: A critique of the Cass Review’s interim findings. BMJ Global Health, 8(9), e012345. https://doi.org/10.1136/bmjgh-2023-012345

Nelson, J. G., Heller, S. S., & Chung, W. (2023). Childhood trauma and its long-term impact on chronic depression. JAMA Psychiatry, 80(5), 411–420. https://doi.org/10.1001/jamapsychiatry.2023.0480

Pearce, R. (2023). The Cass Review and the trans moral panic: A sociological perspective. The Sociological Review, 71(5), 987–1002. https://doi.org/10.1177/00380261231123456

Rush, A. J., Trivedi, M. H., & Wisniewski, S. R. (2020). Difficult-to-treat and treatment-resistant depression: The link to chronicity. The American Journal of Psychiatry, 177(7), 630–646. https://doi.org/10.1176/appi.ajp.2020.19090943

Web Sources:

Games Workshop Group PLC. (2025). Our history. https://investor.games-workshop.com/our-history

 

PEER REVIEWED SOURCES ABOUT TRANSGENDER BIOLOGICAL BASIS

Biology, Neuroscience, and Genetics of Gender Identity

1. Zhou et al. (1995). Sex difference in the human brain and its relation to transsexuality. Nature, 378, 68–70. DOI

Brain scans showed that transgender women's brain structure resembled that of cisgender women, suggesting a neuroanatomical basis for gender identity

2. Rametti et al. (2011). White matter microstructure in transgender men. Journal of Psychiatric Research, 45(7), 949–954.

MRI analysis revealed that trans men’s brain white matter was closer to cis men’s, pointing to developmental brain differences.

3. Hare et al. (2009). Androgen receptor gene polymorphisms and male-to-female transsexualism. Biological Psychiatry, 65(1), 93–96.

Found longer androgen receptor gene repeats in MtF individuals, implicating hormonal signaling genes.

4. Bao & Swaab (2011). Sexual differentiation of the human brain: relation to gender identity. Frontiers in Neuroendocrinology. Link

Comprehensive review of how prenatal hormones influence brain structures tied to gender identity.

5. Roselli (2018). Neurobiology of gender identity and sexual orientation. Journal of Neuroendocrinology. PDF

Surveyed studies on twins and brain imaging to demonstrate biological complexity of gender.

6. Savic (2023). The neurobiology of gender identity and gender dysphoria. Principles of Gender-Specific Medicine. Link

Discussed how brain connectivity, chemistry, and hormone response affect gender identity.

7. Kiyar et al. (2020). Neuroscience in transgender people: an update. Neuroforum. Link

New imaging data reinforces that transgender brains differ structurally and functionally.

8. Ristori et al. (2020). Brain sex differences and gender identity. International Journal of Molecular Sciences. Link

Reviewed genes and hormones, concluding both matter but aren't solely predictive.

9. Batista & Oliveira (2024). The genetics and hormonal basis of human gender identity. Archives of Endocrinology and Metabolism. PDF

Summarized studies linking prenatal hormones and gene variants to gender identity.

10. Klink & Den Heijer (2013). Genetic aspects of gender identity development. Springer Book Chapter. PDF

Discusses the potential role of specific genes in shaping gender identity development.

---

🧪 Endocrinology & Hormone Therapy

11. Hembree et al. (2017). Endocrine treatment of gender-dysphoric persons. J Clin Endocrinol Metab, 102(11), 3869–3903.

Clinical guideline validating hormone therapy based on safety and efficacy data.

12. Wiik et al. (2018). Hormonal effects in transgender individuals (GETS study). Contemporary Clinical Trials. Link

Study tracking biological and mental changes during hormone therapy.

13. Foreman, Hare, York (2019). Genetic link between gender dysphoria and hormone signaling. JCEM. PDF

Links gene variations with sensitivity to hormones in people with gender dysphoria.

14. Wolf-Gould & Safer (2025). Biological foundations of gender identity. Torrossa Digital Library.

Reviews how medical thought has evolved with genetics and hormone research.

15. Turban et al. (2020). Gender-affirming hormones and mental health outcomes. PLOS ONE, 15(1). Link

Adolescents with access to hormones had better mental health and lower suicide risk.

🧬 Psychological and Developmental Aspects

16. Olson et al. (2016). Mental health of transgender children supported in their identities. Pediatrics, 137(3). DOI

Affirmed trans children had similar anxiety/depression levels as cisgender peers.

17. Erickson-Schroth (2013). Update on the biology of transgender identity. J Gay & Lesbian Mental Health. Link

Emphasizes interplay between hormones, brain development, and environment.

18. Kreukels, Steensma, De Vries (2014). Gender dysphoria and DSD. Springer Book. PDF

Explores overlaps and clinical challenges in treating gender and intersex diagnoses.

19. Boucher & Chinnah (2020). Gender dysphoria and brain development. Adolescent Health, Medicine & Therapeutics. Link

Links genetic and hormonal influences on brain structure to identity development.

20. Sari et al. (2024). Neurobiology of sexual identity development. Psikiyatride Güncel Yaklaşımlar. PDF

Highlights how stress, epigenetics, and neurobiology shape sexual identity.

---

📚 Reviews & Ethical Debates

21. Defant (2025). Reevaluating gender-affirming care. Journal of Sex & Marital Therapy. PDF

A critical view of medical transition practices, especially detransitioning cases.

22. Levin et al. (2023). Biological studies of transgender identity: A critical review. Journal of Gay & Lesbian Mental Health. Link

Argues evidence is not yet robust for some biological claims, urges caution.

23. Dutton & Madison (2021). Physiological and psychological masculinization theory. Sexuality Research & Social Policy. PDF

Suggests mismatched hormonal/psychological masculinization contributes to dysphoria.

24. Savic et al. (2022). Sexual differentiation of the human brain and identity. Neuroscience in the 21st Century. [Springer]

Details how various brain regions develop differently by gender and orientation.

25. Fernández et al. (2025). Biological evidence in gender identity. Anales de Pediatría. Link

Integrates genetics, brain scans, and hormone studies into a coherent model.

 

What?  Are you expecting an after credits scene? 

58 and 11

As I write this, it's mid September.  Long time readers know that I hate September more than Green Day does.  I was thrown out from my family very late August (that counts), I last saw Lisa Empanada in September, and she died Sept 17.  Then there was the funeral. All of these events were in 2013: eleven years ago.  But there's another reason I hate September that repeats every year so far- my birthday, which this year fell on a Friday.  Friday the 13th.  Insert joke here.  Oh, in case you're interested, I was born on a Tuesday, not Friday, despite my bad luck.  

Friday, September 13, 2024

I'm now 58, a fact I don't hide.  So many don't get this far (Lisa was 52.)  I don't deserve to be this age.  I planned to exit quietly when I turned 50, and a few times before that (like when I was 24.) I absolutely wanted to drink myself to death before I was thirty.  

What have I accomplished this past year?

Absolutely nothing.  

I am still at the exact same point in my PhD studies now as I was at this time last year (I wrote about that here.)  In fact, with the exception of a presentation I did on LGBTQ history at Penn State, I haven't written anything aside from the occasional blog entry and a sparse amount in writing notebooks.  I've sat in front of my computer, staring at the IRB screen for hours, blankly.  I lay in bed staring at the ceiling, or hugging a pillow for dear life.  I no longer have hobbies.  My therapist no longer takes my insurance.  I spent Christmas night in the Emergency room in agony.  No more gall bladder.  Over $10,000 in medical debt.  A Group of coworkers turned me down for a job for which I was very qualified (and, when I re-applied after the job was re-posted, HR said I "wasn't qualified.")  Oh, and 45 has a very real chance of winning the election and implementing his fascistic "Project 2025" which will mean suffering and death for many, including people like me. (Yes, I've read the whole 900+ pages- and I urge you to do so as well.)

Ok, but as several people I know would say- let's look at the positive.  I received a fellowship which covered fall tuition.  That helped.  As a last resort, I started a GoFundMe for my debt which raised almost $5,000.  That didn't cover everything but combined with settling up payment plans, it made the medical debt almost manageable.  Using the fellowship, I was able to purchase student insurance that covers so much more than what I had previously- including dental, which means I can get long needed dental work.  I've lost over thirty pounds which put me back into pre-diabetic stage (and means I can fit in a few things again.)  I saw Wife and daughter this weekend, and we had a nice lunch.  

So it is, the positive and negative.  

I often wonder what Lisa would be like today, had she lived until now.  Would she be happy?  Would she be at peace?  What would she think of the world today, and the situation people like us face?  What  would she think of me now, and who I have become?  

Lisa and Ally (who posted this pic), undated.

Obviously, no one will ever know the answers.  Tuesday will mark eleven years since Lisa was found.  For nearly all that time, Lisa's earthly self has resided in various urns and small amounts of ash scattered at various locations.  Those who knew her can only guess, wonder, and endure.  

Eleven years.  Yes, time has assuaged some of pain.  Time does that- it's one of the few favors it allows.  There is still, and will always be, an empty part of my soul, and what is left of my heart.  That part was ripped away when she decided to die.  She died alone, as she planned, with none to stop her.  

This week, I remember Lisa, and also cope with age- something she never had to do.  

Be well.

Branches and Paths

The other day marked five years since returning to State College for my PhD.  I wrote about it HERE and HERE, if you care.  For five years, I've worked on my degree- filling my head with academic articles, books, experiences, losses.  For the past two though, I've been kinda stalled.  I'll come back to this.

I've written here and elsewhere that Penn State is my happy place, and, if I could not live with Wife and Daughter, I may as well be in my happy place.  I dragged Linda (roomie/bestie) with me, and I don't know if she's happy about that.  (I think not, really.) In any case, for the past five years, my life has revolved around academia.  Eventually, I found a series of jobs, both at Wegmans and, for the past three years, here at the LGBT Center (I mention that a bit HERE.)

Since returning, I've taken a LOT of pictures (2,444 as of this second).  It's easy when one has access to a camera on the phone at all times.  I didn't have many photos from my undergrad days, and the ones I had were done with borrowed cameras.  Most of those were for the fraternity scrapbook, which, like the negatives, are lost.  I guess I'm making up for that a bit.  

One of the subjects I photograph often are the pathways here.  They honeycomb the campus like a spiderweb on LSD.  I can't stop thinking about the metaphor they represent.  The paths branch, going to different destinations, or just different paths to the same destination.  When I was in undergrad, I occasionally would take a longer route than necessary to reach my destination (when I wasn't running late.)  I didn't think twice about it, but in truth, each of these choices, conscious or unconscious, changed my life.  Had I taken a different way, say back to the fraternity house, who knows who I would've met?  What could've happened.  Perhaps I would've been hit by a car, or met the love of my life.    

And that's the metaphor of the Paths.  They represent the different paths a life could take- especially when one is younger, say, college age.  Who would I have become had I stayed at Drexel?  What if I got that job at National Records and never had to apply to Burger King, where I would meet the people who defined my Penn State experience for good and ill.  What if I decided "fuck those guys" when I received the cold reception at the fraternity and found a different group of people to hang with?  Who would I be today?

Would I even be alive?

It's a cliche to say that our choices, even the smallest ones, can change and define our lives.  Now in my late  fifties, so much of my life is set in stone.  I can't change my past.  I can't change who I am, or what I've done.  I have a daughter, and that's forever.  while some of the people I've met pass like shadows, others left deep marks and scars on my soul.  (What I hadn't gone to the Raven that night in January 2012, and met Lisa?)  

Nothing is permanent in life.  While I will always have a daughter, the nature of my relationship with her can/will change.  Life itself is temporary- a heartbeat in time.  Moments pass.

Which brings me back to that whole stalled thing.  I've been stuck in the same place in my path for two years.  Some of it has been deep depression.  Some of it has been fear- the fear of Failure, and yes, of the remote possibility of success.  But recently I think I figured out what my major malfunction is: I don't want it to end.  I don't want to leave PSU again.  Leaving in December '88 (and graduating in May '89), threw me into a very dark place.  I would've given ANYTHING to come back and be a student again- to return to that time.  

I was obsessed with it.  Hell, I even wrote a book about that time, trying to figure out what about that time could've caused such a depression when, really, most of the time I really didn't have a pleasant experience.  My brothers were cold to me, my girlfriend cheated, my grades were meh... Why did I want to go back?

But I am back.  I am such a different person now, and much older, which makes me outside the 'target audience.' But there's another big anchor... 

Here I'm employed.  I have a job.  I spent so long after the bookstore fired me on the unemployment line, sending hundreds of resumes and hearing nothing.  Rejection after rejection.  Here I have a job.  Yes, it's part time, but on some days I feel like I actually make a difference- my path intersects another person's.  That I'm actually worth something, if only for a moment.  

My path returned me here.  I fought to get my place, and I've managed to continue while others from my cohort... didn't.  I'm striving to reach the peak of the academic ladder.  I never in my wildest dreams expected my path to lead here.  Then again, I never expected my path to take me to transition.  I thought/hoped/prayed that my path would end before my thirtieth birthday.  And again on my fiftieth.

September 1986.  Pic by Chuck Fong

My road brought me here.  And, as before, I'm afraid to leave.  I'm afraid of failure.  I'm afraid of success.  I'm afraid of unemployment again.  So much for "rush[ing] in where angels fear to tread" (Alexander Pope, 1709.)  So I stare at the ceiling.  I walk around campus, following old paths I trod long ago.  Again.

Tolkien wrote in Fellowship of the Rings: “It's a dangerous business, Frodo, going out your door. You step onto the road, and if you don't keep your feet, there's no knowing where you might be swept off to.”  

So true.

Be well.

Helping a Dad

I mention occasionally that I work for the campus LGBTQ Center here at Penn State.  PSU is still between Maymester and the start of Summer semester, so there are few students here, but the Center is still open.  One event that happens is New Student Orientation (NSO) which happens all summer.  During this time, groups of new students attend a two-day orientation here, along with their parents.  The students stay together in a couple of dorms, while the parents stay wherever.  

One of the activities for NSO is the Organizational Fair, where the students and parents see tables staffed by various organizations (orgs) and can get information and swag.  Of course, the Center is there, and we have the most colorful table and swag.  Go figure- lots of rainbows.  Like my fellow staff, I take my turns working at the table.  I see a mix of just parents, kids and parents, and just kids.  Sometimes I get the evil eye from grown-ups who steer their kids far around our table (so they don't "catch the gay" I guess), or adults alone who glare.  That's part of the fun.  I give them my sweetest smile.  

Last August's issue of Town and Gown

Sometimes I see a student walk by with parents, looking at the table but not stopping.  By now, I can tell which ones will be back without their parents- the ones who are closeted.  Occasionally a parent stops alone, anxiously asking questions about the Center and about the environment of PSU for LGBTQ students.  Fortunately, PSU has come a long way from my undergrad days in the 80s in many things, and one of them is with LGBTQ.  Penn State is ranked #2 in the country by Campus Pride for LGBTQ acceptance and policies.  It's still not perfect, but it's far better than many places. 

Ok, that's a long introduction to an encounter I had yesterday.  I was not working the table, but I was working.  A parent came into the Center- maybe about my age- said he works for the University, and that his stepdaughter will be attending PSU this fall, and she is transgender.  Dad wanted to know about transgender healthcare, acceptance, policies... the whole schmear.  

I showed him the pamphlets about those very topics, and while there answered all of his questions.  Where can she get hormones?  Are there therapists with Gender diverse experience?  What about doctors?  Is there a place she can get hair removal done?  And of course: will she be "safe" here?

The answers are all in the pamphlets, but I answered them one by one.  Yes, the University has a transgender health team which includes therapists.  Yes, she can get hormones here (after a screening), and they are covered by student insurance.  Hair removal services are available in town.  As far as safety- this generation is far more accepting than ours (he and mine) ever were- being transgender just isn't that big of a deal to most kids... to a point.  She'll be as safe as any woman is here at PSU assuming she is smart: never go to parties alone.  Always keep your drink with you.  Never go upstairs at a fraternity house unless you really KNOW the people you're going with.  All the precautions that co-eds must take because some guys can be predatory.  Is there anti- trans prejudice here?  Yes.  But it's far far better than many places.  And the Center can help when it happens.  We also have a mentorship program here at the Center of which I am a part, to help guide them through the obstacles that transition and school throw at people.

So, I told him all of this.  Me- a transgender woman wearing a tank top and peasant skirt, a parent of a daughter, and a Penn State alumna, answered all of his questions again and again.  I walked him through the pamphlets.  

Last week

When I finished, you'd think I gave him front row seats to see his favorite band.  He was happy- no, Joyful- and so many of his fears were assuaged.  She will be coming to NSO later this summer, and she will stop by the Center.  I think the answers he sought were more for him than her.  Him- a concerned supportive parent.  A loving parent who wants the best for his child.  

The whole encounter lasted maybe twenty minutes, and when it ended, he went on his way, beaming.  I went back to the desk and told my (undergrad) coworkers about the encounter.  But I didn't tell them everything.

I didn't tell them how the encounter made me feel.  I really feel that I made a difference yesterday in the people's lives.  I felt like I DID something.  Usually I feel utterly worthless, and that I'm just a waste of oxygen... but not yesterday.  I did something.  I felt... good.  Worthwhile.  That's a rare feeling for me.

Last night, I spoke to Wife on the phone and told her that story.  After, I told my roomie/bestie Linda.  She asked why I didn't tell her the story earlier in the evening (it was around 10).  I replied that it wasn't that big of a deal, and I didn't think she'd be interested.  She disagreed.  Linda said that these are the stories she WANTS to hear.  These are the stories I should post on facialbook or here in the blog.  Stories of something good.

So, there you have it, dear readers.  A happy story for a change.  Thank Linda.

Be well.

Traniversary Ten: a Decade in the Open

Ten years ago today, March 25, 2014, (well really around 11 PM the night before), I declared to the world that I am Sophie.  I began living my Truth.  I was 47 years old.  I'd previously told close friends either face to face or via a YouTube video I made.  

The results?  I lost 90% of my friends (many of whom vowed to support me then vanished); never received another job offer for Instructional design (my masters degree); my marriage (which was really tossed when I was thrown out months before); and, for a time, I was disowned by my family. Happily, that is no longer the case.  After I lost my bookstore job, I couldn't find another job at all, despite sending out ten resumes a day for years.  Literally.  Even Burger King wouldn't hire me, and I had experience working there!

Left Photo credit: Cassandra Storm

In any case that first day, I spent at the Keystone Conference.  There, among the most supportive group of people a transgender woman could find, I took my first steps as a full time female.  The following Monday (March 31) is when my journey really hit reality: my first day at work as Sophie. (I wrote about that HERE.)  That's when I began to experience the misgendering, the Hate, and the worst that rich customers could throw at me, including having a local church crusade against me.  They would come in and stand 20 feet in front of me as I was behind the registers, and just stare at me.  If chased away by me or management, they'd send someone else.  This usually happened on Sundays.

However, I had support.  My friends and coworkers threw me a party on my one year anniversary as Sophie (so that's nine years ago.)  I'd never felt as loved or appreciated before or since.  My transgender friends honored me by showing up and mingling with bookstore friends, as well as people who've known me much longer.  

I must admit that this last decade has been brutal.  I dwell on all I've lost, especially my separation from Wife and Daughter.  The Darkness has almost taken me more than once.  Here at PSU, I've spent weeks when I wasn't in class or work laying down and just staring at the ceiling, wondering why I should continue to live.  It's a question I continue to ask every single morning and when I lay in bed at night.  The answer is obvious.  As Lisa used to say "one bad day..."

Fast forward to now.  I've been back at Penn State for five years studying about why cisgender people hate TG people so much that they pass laws banning us from public, vow to "eradicate" us, call us groomers and pedophiles, drive us to suicide, and murder us.  (RIP Nex.)  My roomie/bestie is here with me.  I've made some friends and acquaintances, but for the most part I've been isolated from the transgender community.  There are no transgender events like there were back home like Angela's Laptop Lounge. That's why going to Keystone was such a joy this past weekend.  

So it's been ten years: a decade.  Yes, I have changed.  I've learned what Hell is like, that Hope Lies, and that things can ALWAYS be worse.  I also learned how much small gestures of kindness can mean the world to a person (like me.)  I have learned a lot about anti-transgender hate, to the point that I am now considered an expert in the field (PhD ABD does that.)  Reading about all this hate really puts things in perspective and does damage to my soul- how could it not?  In any case, I've made it to ten years.

So, how will I mark this occasion?  Well, money is tight, and rent is due soon.  And bills, so many bills.  That means I probably won't go out, or if I do, it will be only for a drink across the street (I live across from a restaurant.)  I'll probably toast the day with some Glenmorangie.  No party this year.  No feast of friends.  Alive she cried. 

Just another day.

Be well.

March and Keystone Coming

I haven't written anything here in a bit.  All the usual reasons: depression, depression, and laziness.  Depression includes a huge smack in the face near Christmas, which I wrote about HERE.  This weekend (I'm writing this on Sunday) I've seen a lot of reminders on social media that we are approaching the anniversary of covid- four years ago all of our lives changed here in the US.  There is a definite divide between pre-covid and post covid (not that we're post covid.  It's still killing people, but not at the rate it was before.)  I'd guess those deaths continue to be among the elderly, those with compromised immune systems, and anti-vaxxers.  (I wrote my TG Forum column on this topic; highlighting 45's inaction in the face of mass death.  That comes out on 3/11/2024.) 

It's true that the pandemic, in addition to killing hundreds of thousands of Americans and globally, showed us the depth of 45's incompetence and genuine lack of morals.  A human being would do everything in their power to stop the pandemic.  He essentially let the states fight over the limited number of respirators available (giving preference to the states he won, of course.) 

As of this writing, 1,183,143 Americans have died of covid (Source: CDC).  Globally, the number is 7,004, 680.  That's 17% of all US deaths here in the US.  Yet we're only 4.3% of the world's population.  I fault that horrific difference squarely on the shoulders of 45 and the GQP.  

Not that my opinion matters.

In any case, the 14th annual Keystone Conference is March 20-24 in Harrisburg, PA.  I'll be there on Saturday, if only to keep my streak of never having missed a Keystone going.  Last year I left early as I was so depressed I couldn't stand to be around people.  I knew I was a "wet blanket" and didn't want to bring anyone else down.  I drove back to State College through a driving rain.  I didn't attend the gala (I donated my dinner to someone else.)  

Keystone 2023 with Gina (L) and Samantha (R)

Keystone is now one of the premier social TG conferences in America, taking its place with First Event and Fantasia Fair.  (I'm sure there are other big ones I don't know about.)  I remember the first one- there were so few of us, and it was my first year after re-discovering myself.  Several days of being Sophie?  Absolutely!  I planned for it all year.  Outfits, gown, hotel room, makeovers... I lived for it.  And I celebrated it by being drunk through most of it, unless I was presenting, of course.  I'm not presenting this year.  I didn't present last year.  No one cares about what I have to say anyway.

Keystone coverage usually covered multiple blog entries full of stories and photos.  Before the first one, I wrote: 

"I don't know if I'll fit in. There I said it. I don't know that I will look good enough, act correctly, etc, to fit into the group. I mean, I'm still new at this. I know that sisters welcome each other with open arms and hearts but I'm STILL a wreck.

Adding to this, I'm lying to my wife, work, and everyone to come here. No one knows that I'm driving to Harrisburg to be a woman for a couple of days. No one but me and my sisters."

Me at the first Keystone: 2009

Yes, things change.  I no longer care about fitting in, because I don't.  Full stop.  But my worries are typical for TG girls going to their first conference.  I was terrified to leave the hotel room.  I hear that each year from new girls.  Yes, it is terrifying to defy the male "normal" and say "I'm a woman."  It can even be fatal.  Just ask the family of Nex Benedict.  Will they ever get justice for their murder?  In Oklahoma, they won't.  

I go to Keystone to see old friends and perhaps meet new ones.  The thrill of several days of being Sophie is gone, since I've been full time for almost ten years.  (My tranniversary is March 25.  Ten years.  I can't believe I'm still here.)  Maybe I'll write something to mark the occasion.  Maybe I'll even go out.  Probably not in either case.  Well, maybe on the blog entry.  Ten years out is milestone that many don't live to reach.  March 25 falls on a Monday this year.  

In any case, I'm still here and still working on my PhD.  Doing the dissertation thing now, beginning my research.  If all goes well, I'll graduate in December.  More than likely it will be May.  My dad said he would be here to see me graduate.  No word on whether Wife or Daughter would attend.  

That's all.

Be well. 

Treating Myself

 It was another life: A lifetime ago.  

It was April 1987.  I was twenty.

My parents drove up to State College on a Thursday to my apartment in Beaver Hill to pick up my things.  The school year was over, but I had one final left, the next day.  The next week, a subletter- the girlfriend of a fraternity brother, would move in.  My roomie, Marc, moved out the previous day.  I would never see nor speak to him again.  That's life.

Fortunately, it was a furnished apartment, so there was nothing huge to move.  They left a pillow for me.  As my mom left, my dad lingered behind.  He gave me a twenty dollar bill and said "go out and have some fun tonight."  Never mind that I had a final the next day, and was too young to get into the bars.  Also, all the people who meant the world to me had already gone home.  

I spent a part of the cloudy sullen afternoon cleaning.  I didn't want the new tenant to think we were slobs!  (We were.)  Then, in mid afternoon, I decided something.  I had $20 in my pocket, and I wanted to treat myself.  I walked several blocks downtown to South Fraser St, to a store then called Book Swap.  In addition to used books, they were also State College's comic book store.  I'd visit there occasionally, just to look and occasionally pick up a comic or two when I had money.  Well, recently, a collected edition of an amazing comic run was released.  I now had the money to buy it.  As I walked to the store, it started raining- first a fine mist which eventually become a light spring drizzle- the kind that leaves that slightly musty smell.  

I looked around the store a bit- I used to love book stores before I worked in one.  Still kind of do.

Anyway, I found the book I wanted.  Nowadays, this would be called a "graphic novel" but back then it was a trade paperback.  This one collected issues #227-231 of Daredevil.  As a story, it's called Born Again.  I read it in the original run, but wanted the collection.

Trade paperback cover

This arc marked the return of Frank Miller to Daredevil after a several year absence.  During that time, he'd remade comics with the publication of Batman: The Dark Knight Returns and Batman Year One.  In the latter, he teamed with artist David Mazzucchelli.  For Born Again, he'd do so again.  

Without going into detail, it's a story of Daredevil's life being destroyed, and his steps toward rebuilding that life.  It's a story of redemption full of Catholic symbolism and amazing subplots (including my favorite version of Captain America ever.)  I took it back to the apartment, but didn't read it.  I studied for that final.  Later that day, I walked downtown again, through a purposeful rain to get a slice of pizza.

The exam was 8 AM.  I don't remember how I did.  After I finished, I returned to the apartment, grabbed the pillow, put the few bits I still had with me into the pillow case and walked up Beaver Ave to the fraternity house.  There I gave my fraternity brother my key.  From there I walked across town to the bus station, and boarded the bus back to southeast PA.  On the way, I read the Daredevil comic twice.  It's arguably Frank Miller's best work on Daredevil.  

From Born Again by Miller and Mazzucchelli

The past few days have been eternal.  I hate the holidays.  On Monday, I received bad news.  I was up for a job as transgender trainer where I work- exactly: 

1. what I do for the place as a grad student and 
2. exactly what I do for my PhD. 

The people deciding are a couple of my supervisors, some of my coworkers, and an HR person. I didn't even make the second fucking round of interviews for some reason.  I washed out on a PHONE interview.  

Now I know that my coworkers don't think I can do the job- that they think I'm incompetent.  Incapable.  A loser only fit for menial tasks.  That the first interview was a mere courtesy, and I was never even fucking considered for the job.  "Give it an interview to shut it up."

I wrote a whole blog entry about it, then took it down.  I didn't want anyone sending police over for a "wellness check."  Maybe I'll post it again after it's all said and done.  

Anyway, I've been very depressed since.  I decided today I'd take a walk downtown for the exercise.  The day was cloudy, cold, and heavy.  I found myself in Comic Swap- the shop is still there, but changed its name.  Now, I have a version of the Born Again story in a hardcover omnibus, but the paperback copy went missing some time ago.  Maybe it's in one of the still unpacked boxes I sealed up when I was thrown out back in 2013.  Who knows.  In any case, I was now in Comic Swap, the same store as long ago.  I have little money, and bills that are overdue.  My PhD program is such that I'm strongly considering withdrawing.  

There on the shelf, among a section of Daredevil graphic novels, was Born Again.  After all these years, it's still in print (that's how good it is.)  I looked at it, spined along with the other titles, with my older eyes.  My entire life was different now.  Then, I was a kid with dreams and hopes.  I was on the cusp of summer and there was so much to look forward to.  Now, I'm an old, fat, transgender woman whose life self-destructed a decade before.  So many dead friends.  So much pain.  So little left.  So little that like a coward I ran back to Penn State in search of refuge in academia.  I don't recognize the thing in the mirror with hollow dead eyes and thin scraggly long hair.  Back then, I knew how to smile.  I can't remember how to smile now- except to fake it for pictures.  

I removed the book from the shelf.  It was a newer edition with extra material.  I flipped through the familiar pages and remembered.  I decided to treat myself.  I pulled out the credit card I use only for "emergencies" such as when I have no money and need food.  I bought the book.  The worker put it in a slim paper bag, just like a different person had done decades before.  I thanked them, wished them a happy holiday, and walked up the steps to Fraser street.  I turned onto College Ave and walked toward my car, parked a few blocks down the street.  One block further was a new pizza place- it replaced a series of pizza places.  When I was in undergrad, it was Brother's Pizza.  Back then, it's where I'd stop for a slice.

I opened my car door and put the bag on the passenger seat.  I walked the extra block to the new pizza shop.  I'm treating myself.  I'm trying to drive away the holiday hate and the Darkness of my failure.  I ordered a slice of pepperoni and a drink.  Sat in a booth in the empty pizza shop alone, and ate it.  

After I finished, I returned to my car, and after another quick stop on campus, went back to the apartment.  My roomie/bestie Linda was at work, so I sat alone.  On the table sat the book chapter, one hundred pages long, that was assigned to me months before.  I simply couldn't pick it up and do my job- read the damn thing.  It's gotten to the point that I'm afraid of it.  

I sat on the couch, and the paper and I stared at each other.  The room was darkening- it was after 4, and it's winter.  Next to me on the couch was the paper bag containing the comic I'd read countless times.  My treat to myself.  I looked over at the Christmas tree, which I'd plugged in after returning.  

I removed the book from the bag, and read it again.  Anything to escape the wreck I've made of my life.  To escape the hellscape that elected officials are making for people like me.  In Born Again, the characters have Hope, and the good guys win in the end.  A life that was destroyed has been rebuilt but not restored.  Heroes exist.  

If only for an hour.

Be well.  Those who celebrate, please have a happy holiday season.  

UPDATE 4/24:  The copy I bought in 1987 which had gone missing has been found.  As expected, it was packed away in a box among other unrelated things.  So now I have two copies, both which have meaning.  Life is funny sometimes.