On Being A Walking Quandary

 "The only difference between a flower and a weed is judgement."

Lately I feel like I don't fit in. I'm increasingly public about being transmasculine, so it might look like I've found a place to slot in. But I haven't.

Before coming out, I figured out the female world because I had no choice. In school, organizations, and churches I was in leadership. I sat at the head table at meetings and the back of the bus with the "cool" kids. Today I feel as though I have no table or seat. 

It's like going through a second adolescence, where I have to find my way in life and my place with peers. I'm early into transitioning (only about eight months) and don't look very masculine. I sound feminine. To others I'm a walking quandary.

Discussion in transfeminine circles triggers issues from the past which I long to leave behind. I understand them but am uncomfortable in female conversations. The transgender men I know are well into "T" treatments and happily presenting as males. I'm jealous of them.  It all leaves me feeling as though I'm not guy enough to hang out with the big boys and I can no longer do what I always had to and just chill with the ladies. What I have in common with both groups is the desire to be seen and respected. But that commonality is not enough to help me fit in. I am not seen. 

I don't want to always have to strive to fit in. Always reaching for a mysterious, perhaps unattainable end-of-the-rainbow life. 

Judgement is a powerful force. The judgement of others in the past led me down destructive paths. My self-judgement is harsh. But I'm not a teenager anymore. I must sit in being me. 

I am the dandelion seed being blown in the wind. I will land. I will blossom. 

Have you ever felt superfluous?

 

ADJECTIVE

Something that is superfluous is unnecessary or is no longer needed.

My presence at the afternoon's proceedings was superfluous.

Born almost sixty years ago into the body of a stranger named Diane, I spent a lot of time presenting and pretending to be female. It was exhausting and unnatural, though looking back I may have deserved an Emmy. I can hear the announcer bellowing my award: 

"For his role as Diane, the Emmy goes to Declan DeWitt Hall!" 

The crowd cheers and I cry inside. 

As we get older we're taught that pretending is supposed to be tossed to the side. Well, let me tell you my pile of pretending was pretty high. 

Just for fun let's call my gender identity "deckles." Diane was bursting from the seams with deckles. I was like a wet dog shaking off and everyone was getting splashed with deckles. Oddly, no one admitted to noticing. They enabled my pretense despite being soaked by my deckleness. To this day many people who have known me my whole life would say they never saw  my transitioning coming. They refuse to see Declan. 

People only see what they want to see or what we permit them to see.

Little did I know twelve years ago that was all about to change when I met my beloved Zan in church. She saw ME. 

An odd thing happens when someone loves you so much they only want what is best for you; you are free to be fully and totally you. Declan still hides behind Diane some days but that's because of the world outside our home. 

I am on a journey as we all are. It's called becoming. We were all loved into being by the Divine, and then watered and grown through more love.

Diane is becoming superfluous, which opens the door for Declan to be supercalifragilistic. May you meet people who see you, welcome you, and encourage you to be fully your supercalifragilistic amazing self!