My Bullies

I've written before about Bullies.  But recently I read a story by my dear friend Jenny North about bullying.  Read that HERE if you'd like.

Like many of us, I was bullied as a child.  I was very frail and didn't like most of the games the neighborhood kids liked playing (like tackle football on a macadam parking lot.)  So I was called a lot of names.  My older brother was also a particular target for their torture as well, and I was tormented just for being his younger sibling.

I wanted to write about MY bullies, in hopes that maybe it will let allow me perhaps to forgive them.  Forgiveness has never been my strong suit.

My first REAL bully (aside from the neighborhood kids, who really weren't THAT physical, comparatively)  was a kid named Vinnie.  Yes that's his real name.  Vinnie was two grades ahead of me in elementary school, and took an immediate dislike to me for whatever reason.  Whenever possible at recess, he would torture me, and if possible beat me to the ground.  I spent outdoor recesses trying to keep track of where on the playground he was, so I could steer clear.  As he was a couple of grades ahead, he was gone when I reached fourth grade, and by the time I reached junior high he had other things on his mind than beating up scrawny me.

Vinnie was big and strong as a child and grew to a monstrous size as a teen.  He became a star football player, and would've been recruited by division one schools if he hadn't pinched a nerve in his neck, which ended his football career.  He graduated, and I have no idea what happened to him after.

Target?

Another bully I have the whole story.  His name was Tim.  Tim took over Vinny's bullying duties somewhere in the middle of elementary school and kept going through middle school.  Tim was one grade ahead of me, and was also a big kid.  He had olive skin, squinty eyes and a round face.  Straight black hair, parted to his right.  And he was powerful.  He lived on the same street as my best friend growing up, Dr. Dave.  At first his torturing me was because I was my brother's sibling.  He would throw acorns and rocks at me whenever he saw me.  As my cub scout troop also met on that street, I couldn't attend without an incident.  So I stopped going to cub scouts.  The scout master called my parents to see what was up and I told the truth.  And Tim got in trouble.  And that's when the torture really began.

He would seek me out for beatings.  He found out where I lived and on many a night, especially in winter, I'd come home after finishing my paper route to have him jump me from the shadows, knock me down and beat me until he got tired,  Tim is the reason I started practicing martial arts- to be able to fight back.  After a while, I learned enough about anatomy and where to hit, that he started feeling my defensive punches.  Yes, I started aiming low.  Know what I mean.  And over time, he started leaving me alone.

Tim contracted leukemia his junior year of high school and quickly wasted away.  He died in pain.  And I was very glad to hear it.  His girlfriend posted a poem in that year's yearbook saying what a gentle soul he was.  I was so angry, I tore out that page and burned it, hoping he went straight to hell..


There was a guy I worked with at GW who tried to browbeat me and bully me despite being a full six inches shorter than me.  Unfortunately, he was my boss, and I had to take it.  Until one I day I didn't.  I went straight to the big boss with dates and times and an anger close to homicidal.  And the bully was no longer my boss.

There will always be bullies in our lives.  As I've written before, the reason I have such a visceral hatred of the GOP is I see them as bullies.  All white, rich men who enjoy picking on those weaker than themselves... upon those they think can't fight back.  And, dear readers, myself and my fellow transpeople are their current targets.  Bathroom bills, which they call "religious freedom."  Bullies always have an excuse, don't they?  "We were just messin' around."    They want to torture us.

They want people like me to disappear.  And they are organized.  They are Strong.

I stopped being a victim some time ago.  I learned to fight bullies, even if it means fighting dirty- because that's how THEY fight.

Ever see "Christmas Story?"  In it, Ralphie says there are bullies, toadies, and the nameless rabble of victims."  And these bullies have toadies.

Their toadies are transpeople who vote the bullies into office.  Who support them.  Urge them on.  As I wrote before, they're like Jews for Hitler, hoping that they won't be deported too.  And they died just as quickly in the gas chambers.

These quislings either don't understand what they're doing or don't care.  So how do you fight them?

The same way you fight these other bullies.  Education.  Educate the public as to who We are as a group.  That we really are human beings.  We must Educate the PUBLIC, NOT the bullies.  because they won't change.  Bullies never do.  There are no happy endings.  We have to flank them, and throw light on their hatred and tactics, and Hope it will be enough.

And their quislings?  Educate them as well, even though they don't listen to anything but their Fox News and hate speech.  They deny science.  They deny logic.  They won't listen to anyone they think is not as conservative as they are.  But they are our brothers and sisters, so we must try.

I have a friend who once postulated that conservative transpeople are the ones who can retreat easily into their male lives.. that they are never full timers as I am.  But I know that's not so.  I know of at least one FT transwoman who is devoutly a Fox news drone, though she denies being a republican.

Bullies derive their power from picking on those weaker than themselves.  We can't be weaker.  We must become stronger than they.  They outnumber us.  So we must do our best to gain allies.

And never give up hope.

Art:  David Mazzucchelli.  

Questions Cis People Ask

Ok, all of these are actual questions I've received, mostly by private messages on Facialbook.  Some were asked in person.

I've saved them all for times like this when the topic I want to write about would be too incendiary (GOP bathroom bills popping up everywhere) so I need to re-write it in such a way that has no foul language or direct accusations as to the penis sizes of GOP politicians (because all but one are men.)  Or at least a lot less.

So.  The actual questions are in italics, and are direct quotes.  My answers here may or may not have been the answer they received at that time.

Remember, you can always send me questions to me at sophie1lynne@yahoo.com.  Usually I answer just on email, but if the question stirs me or is particularly thought provoking, I may ask permission to use it here, giving you all the credit you want!

At Work, March 2015

So why did you destroy your daughter's life just to wear a dress?  (This from a twice divorced father of 3, all by different women.)

This is a two part answer.  First off, I didn't destroy her life, even though sometimes I wonder.  Many children have to endure divorces, and, while we are not yet divorcing, Wife and I do live apart.  Wife has made it clear she wants me very involved in my daughter's life, and I want to take a very active hand in her upbringing.  I tell her how much I love her every time I see her.  Compare this to parents who use their children as weapons in a divorce.  

Part 2 is that I didn't do this "just to wear a dress."  While I love wearing dresses, I don't do so very often.  Being TG goes FAR deeper than that.  Which leads to the next question...

Why not just man up and live with the so called pain?  (from a tea-bagger)

I tolerated the pain for 47 years before finally breaking free from it.  I can't describe how badly it hurts.  Then multiply that pain by all those years hiding it, and all the anger and frustration.  Actually, a friend of mine posted the following on Facialbook today, and it fits perfectly.

Now let's take that full glass of water and hold it straight out for YEARS, and when someone asks about the glass, you vehemently deny it even exists... perhaps (as in my case) even to yourself.  And you don't dare spill even a drop, lest someone guess that you are indeed holding that glass of water.

That's an overly simplistic explanation, but there it is.

So what's it like having [breasts]?  (drinking buddy of many years)

Well, it's like this.  Most of the time I don't feel them.  They're just there... kind of of like the penis most of the time.  I wear good support bras so they don't bounce so much, so there it is.  Now, that said, when I DO feel them... well, grab your bicep (unflexed).  That's how it feels- just a mass of tissue, except they hang on my chest and my arms occasionally bump into them.  Are they sensitive?  Well the difference in sensation between the male chest and the female breast... it's like a whisper to a Scream.  It's amazing how different how it feels.  I love my boobs.

Can I touch them?  (same drinking buddy)

Hell no.  Grow your own.

Can I touch them?  (inebriated female friend)

Can I touch yours?  No?  Ok then.

Are you and Linda Lewis dating?  (several people have asked this)

Linda on a road trip to Richmond

No.  I am married.  Linda and I are very close, as we are roomies.  She is, aside from my wife, my best friend and co-conspirator.  We learn a lot from each other.  She's an amazing person and I thank God for her friendship.

Are you dating [fill in the blank]?  (I get this one a lot)

As I said, I'm married.  And I'm fairly sure that after the marriage ends, I'll be alone the rest of my life.  Sucks, but that's the way it is.


Are you still suicidal?  (Occasionally I get this)

No.  Ok, I admit I think of it sometimes, but I think about my Daughter... and I think about the wreckage Lisa Empanada left behind when she killed herself... no I couldn't do that to my loved ones- especially my daughter.  You're stuck with me.


Why do you post so much about politics?  (usually asked by right wingers, but not always)

If I don't speak out against EVIL, who will?  I see the current GOP as Evil.  All they do is hate everyone that isn't a white WASP male.  And they are doing their best to hurt me and mine.  I have yet to be proven wrong on this, but wish I could be.


Are you going to post more fiction on Fictionmania or other story sites?  (a couple of people)

Yes.  I'm working on something now.


What does your Wife think about all this?  (many old friends)

She has been as supportive as she can be, but she hates it, and I don't blame her.  She's been far more understanding than I could dream of.  To those who know her personally, I encourage them to contact her as she can speak for herself.  Eloquently.  She's an amazing woman, which is why I married her.  She definitely didn't deserve all this.

Will you be at Keystone 2015?  (Lots of people, mostly local trans people)

Yes, and I will be presenting again.  My presentation will be Thursday at 2 PM.  My topic is Writing TG Topics as Therapy, and the brief goes like this:  "Can writing really be a release? Find out in this fun, cooperative seminar with published author Sophie Lynne! Together we will learn about simple writing tools that can unleash your emotions and help you express them on paper."

You never know who will be at this seminar!  Several of the people I write about in this Blog attend, as do some of my Vanity Club sisters, and hopefully YOU!  Always room for more!  

Keystone 2014

Will I be able to talk to you at Keystone?  (believe it or not, I get this question)

Yes, for a fee.  Just kidding.  I am just a chick with a blog- I'm no one special.  If you want to say hi or sit down and talk, I'd love to see you!  Especially if you're buying!  (hee hee)


Ok that's it for this edition of Q&A with Sophie.  I'll do it again someday.  Hope to see you at Keystone, and maybe I'll edit the other entry to make it less vitriolic.  Or maybe I won't.


Be well.

Sleep Well Leonard Nimoy

Leonard Nimoy is dead at the age of 83, and Sunday he was buried in a private ceremony.

May I assume that all my readers know who he was?  Y'know- actor, director, poet, etc.  Best known for playing Spock on Star Trek.

Leonard Nimoy as Spock.  

So why bring it up?  What does this have to do with being Trans?  Or am I just rambling?

Well, it's like this:  I've been a Trekker all my life.  Yes, I'm a Star Wars Fanatic as well, but Trek was first.  And for me, Trek will always be all about Kirk and Spock, etc.  No disrespect Jean-Luc, you're cool and all, but Kirk was the Man! Besides, Star Trek debuted a mere five days before I was born so we are the same age!

Enterprise has better shields, and wins easily.

So.  Spock.  Why would I identify with him?  I admit that I was/am more of a Kirk fan (he's such a ham) but I identified more with Spock.  Why?  Duality.

Spock was half Vulcan, half human, and that was the entire basis of everything the character did.  Through the TV series it was explored, but it wasn't until the movies that Spock really embraced his duality.

Duality is something we as transpeople have plenty of experience with surviving.  After all, Spock tried to keep his human side repressed, but eventually allowed it to show through and blend with his Vulcan side.  I kept my female side repressed, and now I show it to everyone, as it is who I am.

Sept 2013

Spock's human side was where he held his emotion, and so it was with my feminine side.

Of course, Leonard Nimoy was far more than Spock, but it is as Spock that so many people, including me came to know him and appreciate his work.

Star Trek has come a long way since that Original Series (where a woman was scoffed at for wanting to be a starship captain in the episode "Turnabout Intruder".)  The characters grew and become more rounded (not just discussing Scotty's waistline!) and then other crews expanded the meaning and scope of the series.   For example, my dear friend Sirena insists that Deep Space 9's Sisko was the best of all Captains.  Women became captains.  (First in Star Trek IV, then later again in Voyager.)  All the stories weren't winners (Star Trek V was horrible) but most were.

Star Trek spoke to the child I was, and still speaks to the adult I've become.  It taught me that there WAS hope for a great future.  And one of the biggest parts of Star Trek is now gone.

Sleep in the stars, Leonard Nimoy.  And thanks for everything.

End/Beginning

Today was an end of a chapter in my life.  A new beginning.  What was that song line?  "Every new beginning comes from some other beginning's end."  

With Dr. Osborne last week

Anyway... today was my last therapy appointment with Dr. Maureen Osborne.  She is retiring with her husband to a place she has always loved.  It's a dream come true for her.

Her accomplishments are too many to be listed here.  How many people has she helped?  Hundreds?  Thousands?  Who knows... I don't think even she does.  Because she doesn't look at the numbers.  She takes people as they come- one at a time.  As a good therapist should.

I started seeing her in 2009.  It was just after I re-emerged and I wanted help.  I wanted to know how "deep" the femininity ran in me... and what could be done about it.  I already knew that there would be no cure.  If I couldn't face it down after over twenty years of suppressing it, then it wasn't going away.

I was at a Renaissance meeting and the conversation turned to therapists.  My dear friend, the beautiful Vanessa, told me she was seeing Dr. Osborne, who was a specialist in TG issues.  I asked her for the number.  She texted it to me the next day.  And the Monday after, I called to set up an appointment.

Dr. Osborne and some drunkard.  Keystone 2012

I remember the first meeting.  I was so scared!  I went in, determined I was going to face this issue no matter how painful it would be.  Dr. Osborne listened to my story, and asked what I wanted.  I told her I wanted answers.  I wanted to know who I was.  And so began our journey together.

It hasn't always been easy.  I'm not any easy person to get on with.  I'm opinionated, and was, at the time, angry at the world.  But Dr. Osborne was a wonder.  She was caring, and knew when to use "tough love" and administer much needed verbal butt-kickings.  She also introduced me to my wonderful "Big Sister" Mel, who was far blunter, but had been where I was.

Under Dr. Osborne's care, I realized who I really am, and I knew what I had to do.  And she guided me through the steps.  How many others had she seen through this process?  She knew exactly what needed to be done.  Now I am a woman full time.  My anger has vanished.  So many people remark on how different I am now then I was before I transitioned.

And today, that partnership ended.  She moves on, to a new phase in her life.  As do I.  I will need to find another therapist.  I think I have, but it won't be the same.  That doesn't mean it won't be good, but... well there's six years of hard work and history...

 Before I left her I thanked her for her help.  And smiled weakly.  Then I headed down the hall, down the steps, and out into the cold sunny day.  To my car.  Where I cried my eyes out.  I am surprised I was able to hold it in as long as I did.  But I didn't want to cry in front of her.  I didn't want to put a negative tone to our last session.

And So it's over.  I'll see her at Keystone this year, maybe even buy her a drink.  But I am no longer her patient.

Words can't express the depth of the gratitude I have for her.  Or the respect I have for Dr. Osborne.  I would not be where I am today without her.  I would not be Alive today without her.  The Darkness would've claimed me by now, I am sure.


So here, in the only way I know how, I want to thank her, publicly.

Thank you, Maureen.  You are a Godsend.  I wish you a long pleasant life in retirement.  You've earned it.

A Blessing

At work, one of my coworkers asked me how my transition has affected my friendships.

And I thought about it.

I told her I figured I'd lost over half of my friendships that I had before I transitioned.  She was shocked by this.  I'm not.

A lot of people expressed their support all those months ago (has it been 11 months already?) and promptly fell off the face of the earth.  To be fair, in many cases I have been far too busy to keep up as well.  I work; I write; I sleep.

February 2015- 11 months full time

But let's face it- I am no longer considered "normal" or "One of the guys."  I've changed teams in the most extreme way possible.  Still, so many friendships... gone.

This is actually a blessing in disguise.  Or not in disguise.  Let me put it this way- I now know who my True friends are.  And I know those who couldn't weather this Storm.  I know who will stick with me no matter what.  These people all now know my deepest secret.

That's another topic I discussed with a coworker (both these discussions were on break btw- we don't usually have time for a discussion while on the floor.)  We discussed secrets, and this coworker's particular disgust with them.  She hates secrets.  I laughed.  I said I have no more secrets.  And it's true.  I had a HUGE secret that I kept from everyone- even myself for all those years.  Some secrets are bad; some not.  It's not my place to judge.  I pointed out that I HAD to keep my secret lest I lose my marriage, my abode, possibly my job... and who knows what else.  I'd lose friends.

Now the secret is out.  I'm losing my marriage, lost my home, kept my job fortunately... and lost friends.

But not all of them.  And maybe some of the ones who went away my drift back.  Or not.  But if nothing else, they now all know a transperson.

I AM blessed.  I know who I am.  I live authentically.  And I know whom I can count on when things go bad.

Not bad, I'd say!

Sophie's Valentine's Day

As you know, being a blogger is an exotic lifestyle.  It's filled with travel, fine wines, fast cars, beautiful clothes and cute shoes.

Yeah right.

Today in the USA was St. Valentines Day.  It's a contrived holiday meant to force people to spend money on their partners.  And it's not a BAD idea, really.  Except if that's the ONLY time you spend time with your partner.

Last night I had dinner with Wife and daughter.  We waited over an hour for a table at Iron Hill Brewery in Phoenixville, PA.  Dinner was nice.  I miss dinner with my family.  A lot.  In fact the other night I cried my eyes out because I missed my daughter and regret being isolated from watching her grow up.


So what did I do today?  Well I thought I worked 12-8 at the bookstore, so I slept in a little, showered, etc, threw on a red sweater and a heart necklace, and left early for work with the intention of reading a little before my shift.  En route, I received a phone call asking where I was.  Apparently I was working 11-7.  Oops!  So I was thirty minutes late.

I spent my busy day at the bookstore.  Came back to the apartment.  Zoey had made dinner for the three of us, and we watched Skyfall.

And that was my exotic holiday.

I have no illusions.  Once Wife divorces me, I will be alone the rest of my life.  It's part of the price I pay for authenticity.  I understand that.

I've never liked Valentines Day.  I'll like it even less in years to come I'm sure.

Another Dream in Winter

Yet again, I dreamed of college last night.

And yet again, the setting was the same: my fraternity house.  As always, it wasn't the house as it was (or is.)  It was a grotesque parody, monstrously huge and always with parts under construction to make it more different from the house I knew.

Skull House 1987

And as always, the brothers were exactly as they were when I was there nearly thirty years ago.  Only I have gotten older.  I am as I am now.

This time the weather was warm, and there was a social with a sorority.  Pretty girls were everywhere.  It was a BBQ social, so we were grilling stuff.  We had this huge monster grill at the house made from a cut in half burning barrel (and operating it was a very talented guy who eventually started a VERY successful restaurant chain in Northern California with Guy Fieri) but in the dream I only assumed it was there, as I never saw it.

Anyway, I walked around the house as I always do in these dreams, and notice all the changes.  In this case, one of the rooms I lived in had its wall knocked down as well as the room next to it to create a very large single room.  I remember thinking that yet another part of me has vanished.

Down in the kitchen. there were trays of food everywhere, and people swarming them like locusts (at least some things never change!)  I was offered a piece of spiral ham by a guy I recognized as being a few years ahead of me, but he was still young.  And since when do people barbecue spiral ham with pineapples?  But in any case, I took it and went out a side door that didn't exist to side yard that also didn't exist (but if it did, it would've been to the left side of the picture above, while the kitchen would be to the right rear of the photo.  If that makes sense.)

The attic often appears in my dreams, but much larger

The yard was wide and green.  Scattered about were seven black picnic tables, more or less in a circle, except there was one in the middle.  There were places to sit at all the tables here and there, but the one in the center wasn't occupied at all.  And I felt so uncomfortable asking anyone if I could join their table, each brimming over with brothers and sorority girls having a wonderful time.  No, I placed my plate at the empty table in the middle of it all, knowing no one would join me.  But I didn't sit down.  I looked around and figured if I sat down there, everyone would see how lame I was to be sitting alone.  I picked the plate back up and went back inside where I stood at the side of the kitchen and ate.

I looked through a door and saw a row of kegs in the foyer (another door that doesn't and couldn't exist) all tapped and waiting, but with only one person there filling a clear plastic pitcher.  I remember thinking how odd that was, but then again, everyone was eating right?

I went back outside, and I awoke with a start.  I was sweating.  I was back to reality as I know it, in my bed.

I've spent all day thinking about this dream.  What does the symbolism mean?  If anything?  Or does it just mean that I shouldn't have had manwich for dinner last night.

I really need new pictures

Keystone Prequel and Prep

"Anyway, a glass of wine and off to bed. I was soaked with sweat. I took off the clothes, but not the wig. Started packing. Shoes... Wash off breastforms...
Then I looked in the mirror at my face and wig. It made me so sad. I would take off the wig, and Sophie would disappear. If only for a while I know, but... It still made me so sad. So, I whispered to my reflection "Goodbye Sophie" and removed my wig and makeup."    (entry from March 15, 2009)

"It was eerie. When I close my eyes and think about the walk to the Dog & Pony on Sunday morning I swear I can hear dying echos of the most genuinely delightful laughter. It's like hearing ghosts from the past, Sophie."

Hayden Denton,  TCPA staff  (entry from March 31, 2013)

The seventh annual Keystone Conference is coming.  The above quotes are from blog entries I wrote about past conferences.  (To be fair, the one is a quote I reproduced with Hayden's kind permission.)

I just re-read the first quote about a half hour ago and started to cry.  I remember being so sad.  As my dear friend Tammy commented, I've come so far.  I don't say goodbye to Sophie any more.  I've said goodbye to many things in this journey: marriage, comfortable life, etc, but I now see Sophie in the mirror when I wake up every morning.

But my point is this- Keystone evokes very strong emotions from those who attend. 

My first Keystone gala- 2009

As those who follow this blog know, I've been attending Keystone since the very first one.  This one will be the seventh...my seventh as well.  Each year it gets bigger and better.   And again I am presenting (10:30 AM on Thursday if you'd care to come.)

But this is where is gets complex.  Simply put, I couldn't afford to go.  And as much as I love it, Keystone is a luxury.  I really wanted to go and see my friends, enjoy the speakers, learn, Vanity Club dinner- everything about it.  But I couldn't afford it.

Fortunately, Keystone offers financial aid.  I applied.  And was accepted.

I wish to publicly thank those running the Keystone Conference for helping me attend this year's conference.  

Keystone is different for me now, but has always been a place of comfort.  I spent my first days full time as a woman at Keystone.  I met so many of my friends there.  It was an oasis in a sea of drab, and now it's a mile marker.  Every year I want to be better than I was when I last left the conference.  Each year I arrive and ask myself- Have I improved?  Am I a better person; a better woman than I was the year before?

I am so very lucky to be where I am.  I am Me full time now.  Things could be better, sure, but at least I'm not pretending or lying to the world any more.

Keystone has been the springboard for so many on this journey.  I love attending it.  Maybe this year, I can make a difference...

Ally, Linda, and Me at Keystone 2014

Science!

I've been conducting a very formal scientific type survey at work.  (For those who don't know, I work at a bookstore.)

Anyway, next to my cash register is a magazine display featuring Bruce Jenner on the cover of people magazine.

SO I waited.  If someone mentioned the magazine (or Jenner) I asked them "What do you think about that?"

Here are some of responses I received.

"I don't know why anyone would want to be a woman."  (30 something woman)

"I wish him the best.  That can't be easy."  (40ish woman)

"Too much money."  (40 something man)

"I hope he's proud of himself.  She.  He.  Whatever it is."  (30 something man)

There's more, but this is a representative sample.  Many were sympathetic.  As expected, people buying conservative books had all negative reactions.  I don't think any of the people I questioned clocked me as trans.  Or maybe they did- I don't know.

As I said, totally scientific.

On Bruce Jenner

Bruce Jenner has been in the news of late.

In case you've been out of touch, Bruce Jenner won the 1976 Gold medal in the decathlon for the US.  He was on Wheaties boxes, etc.  Currently, he's best known from being the Kardashian's step dad.  Oh how the mighty have fallen!

So today alone, three of my coworkers asked my opinion of the Bruce Jenner situation.  i wonder why they asked me?  Like I have an opinion?  Hee hee.

I don't know Bruce Jenner, and all I know about his current situation is what I read and what I'm told, as I don't watch that tv show.  But I will say this:

If Bruce Jenner is transitioning, I wish her the best of luck and strength.  She's going to need it.

Transitioning is so very hard even in the most private circumstances.  Some people have it relatively easy- others...  well, others don't survive it.  So far I've managed to stay alive, though more than once I've considered my situation Hopeless.

Bruce Jenner would have to transition in the full glare of a media frenzy.  She would become the new Face of Trans- for better or for worse.

Maybe Bruce Jenner will be exactly what the community needs- a thoughtful, articulate spokesperson used to the spot light.  Maybe the media will stop laughing and take her seriously, and start taking US seriously.  Maybe the extremists on the Right will learn to stop hating.

Me?  I can't see how this ends well.  But I've been wrong before.