Monday, February 28, 2011

Perma-Child...


Me at 3...

As much as I'd like to, and as much as I know I need to...I don't think I'll ever really grow up!

It could be because I always forget how old I am. Not only do I forget how old I am, I forget I'm not 19 any more.
AND
I even forget when my birthday is...a few years ago I walked into my mums place. It was all decorated with balloons and streamers and all sorts of silly awesome things, and I asked
"what's going on...who's party..."
They thought I was joking, until I asked again 15 minutes later.

Maybe it's because I'm stuck. When I was about 18 I completely shut down, more than I had ever done before. My dreams and everything I was working toward were pushed aside while I abandoned myself. Yes, I still made it to classes and went to work. But I wasn't living my life. I was only just existing...for a very long time. Ever since I decided to start living again, it feels like I've been trying too hard to catch up with myself and learn how to live again.

It's not like I'm completely irresponsible. I do know how to behave like an adult. And my body is breaking down, so I'm not really able to go out and rage like I'm still a kid any more. But I'm sure I'm not as grown up as I should be.

Maybe it's just me. Maybe my perceptions of myself, the way I wish I was and the way I think I should be in this stage of my life are just really warped. Maybe it doesn't really matter if I ever grow up or not...I dunno. For now I'll keep wearing my bright pink skinny jeans and sequinned 5inch heals and run around at punk gigs with youngsters that seem half my age wearing half as much makeup as me...and I'll like it!

Monday, February 14, 2011

gettin' a little happy messing around taking pics of myself while skateboarding

Everyday I wake up sad. About all sorts of things. About nothing. It's just the way I am. But everyday I make a point of finding at least one reason to smile. The reason can be silly, beautiful, funny or comforting. It doesn't really matter what the reason is, as long as I smile. Because as long as I can find a reason to smile, I know that day isn't going to be that bad.

The thing that hurts me the most about being sad, is everyone that cares about me wants to help. But they can't. As much as I try to mask it, I know I can't really hide my true sadness. Every time I see them notice, I can see them hurting...because of me

So everyday...

I wake up sad

then

I find a reason to smile

and

I try to be happy...

I swear, I really am trying to be happy

Friday, February 4, 2011

Vanity...


Gorgeous burlesque performer, rushing around, behind the scenes!


Since beginning life as my true self, I've slowly become more and more concerned with my looks. Which used to be completely out of character for me...

Before transitioning I was obviously unhappy with myself physically, but my looks didn't matter much to me, if at all. Sure, I've always known my nose looks as if I bought it from a veteran boxing champion, especially after being asked for the billionth time how I broke it, and nothing about me is symmetrical, especially not my face. But for some reason it just didn't matter to me, in fact I spent much of my life trying to make myself uglier so I wasn't always being picked on for being "pretty". Maybe having an unwanted inch distracted me from caring about any other unfortunate physical traits I possessed?!


For as long as I remember I've never looked as I'm supposed to look. But the longer I live as a woman, the more I actually hate the way I look. Almost every moment I have certain thoughts in the back of my mind...
My nose is too big and crooked. My brow belongs to a Neanderthal. My eyes...My jaw...My Adams apple...My shoulders...My arms...My...
It's tiresome and I hate it.
My life isn't supposed to be consumed by the way I look. I'm not supposed to be planning plastic surgery just so I can look pretty...especially when what I want is impossible. Sure, it's possible to trim my unwanted junk and straighten up my nose. But it's impossible for anyone to grind enough of my face off to make me look like the woman I see myself as. And besides growing itty-bitty-boobies, it's impossible for me to have the body of a genetic woman.

People are sweet though. All my friends and family constantly assure me I'm pretty and feminine and whatever. But as much as I want to, I just don't believe them.I tell myself things like... 
"they're too close to me" or "they're too kind and can't bring themselves to be completely honest". 
And I'm sure whenever they complement me and my femininity they think "...for a guy" at least subconsciously. Which just isn't good enough for me any more. I don't want to be pretty compared to other trannies and drag queens or "for a dude". 

There have been countless sleepless nights that I've spent trying to figure out 
Why? 
Why am I suddenly obsessed with the way I look...as I'm typing this I'm finally asking myself...
Is it because of everybody else?
Whenever I leave my house, I know; Someone is going to stare. Someone is going to laugh. Someone is going to ask me, their friend or even a complete stranger... 
"is that a guy or a girl" 
Whenever I leave my house I think; It would be nice to feel safe enough to go out without angry people trying to beat me up or rape me or kill me just because I'm trans...

Whatever the reason I suddenly became so obsessed with beauty, whether it's simple vanity or self preservation or something completely different, I know...
I don't like it!
It's always upset me to see people unhappy with the way they look, because I've never seen someone who thought they weren't beautiful enough, that wasn't beautiful...