Regret is not an appropriate word for my feelings toward my transgender state. I don’t wish that I could go back and live a cisgender life, but, at the time time, I would not be opposed to such a hypothetical reversion. There are drawbacks, of course, given society’s fear and disdain toward transgender individuals. The careful eye and ear can probably determine that something is “off” about me, although unless one is attuned to the characteristics of transgender people, I am usually able to blend in with the crowd. In many ways, my place in the world is similar to the tattoos that litter my arms. Depending on how careful I am, the edges can be seen peeking out from underneath my long sleeves, but the true gravity of my difference is kept out of sight.
The reaction of my transgender acquaintances when they discover how forthcoming I am with my sociopathic condition is that of horror. They see their struggle, in part, as one of perception. Deviance from the narrative of a demographic struggling to do no harm while being given respect for their dysphoria results in a great uneasiness. These acquaintances of mine fear that, by acknowledging that every condition, including the transgender condition, comes with myriad subtypes, the support of those that can only accept “puppies and unicorns” will dissipate. That is, they worry that if the underbelly of their cherished demographic is exposed, then support from many will erode.
I love greatly the ability to create. Whether I am writing a blog post, developing cutting-edge software, or composing music, there is great satisfaction to be had in knowing that I am in full control over the life and success of such projects. Such “creation” can extend to the realm of parasitism, where false bonds are constructed in order to build a rapport that leads to an interpersonal relationship of inequality. All of these creations are not spared from my cycles of self-destruction, however. The reasons vary, but I seem to always be one bad day away from destroying that which I created, no matter how much time or energy has been spent on such endeavors.
Yes, I’ve been bad about daily posts; I am attempting to return to a daily format. Trust that I am not merely sitting idly on the days that I do not post.
I often work on my endeavors from the comfort of a local coffee shop. The patrons of the shop are diverse as are the topics spoken within those four walls. As I was sitting there attempting to determine that which to write for today’s post, I overheard a most interesting conversation regarding human sexuality. A group was seated at one of the tables and was having a passionate, but amicable, disagreement as to what extent the presence of sexual themes should be appropriate in society. All of the patrons were in agreement; they wished to see an increased acceptance of human sexuality in society. The disagreement was as to the route to take in order to gain such acceptance.
I was raised in a conservative sect of Christianity. One of the most important portions of any church service that I would attend was absolution. Churchgoers would repent for their sins and the pastor would relay God’s forgiveness. Absolution always confused me as we were taught that belief in Jesus Christ would render our sins meaningless, being that faith in the Son was the only route to heaven. At the same time, absolution required that we feel remorse for our sins and for our transgressions against God. If faith alone would send us to heaven, why was remorse and repentance even necessary? Why would my fellow sinners repent only to commit the same crimes again by the time church rolled around the next week?