Tuesday, June 22, was my second T shot.
Noticing a definite increase in sex drive. Strange how before T I could fantasize without getting physically aroused by my thoughts, but now I'm finding that just thinking about things manifests themselves physically that makes it increasingly harder for me to control.
Just as fast as that rush hit me, now I find myself crashed up against the rocks somehow. I feel this strange loneliness that I haven't felt in a very long time. I'm not sure why when every day that passes I get closer to living the life that I want. I guess it's true that for every gain there is a loss. The more I see myself as Cyrus, the more I realize that "she" is dead.
And now I remember when the last time I felt this loneliness. I was a little over twelve and a half years old when my uncle passed away. He was the first person that took the time to notice me and actually showed interest in what went on in my mind. He was the first person to allow me to express myself freely without fear of rejection or guilt. Even now I suspect that he knew me better than I knew myself at that age and I sometimes wonder if he had known that I would walk this path.
After a couple of good cries tonight...I realize the root of this pain. I'm in a state of mourning. Mourning the death of a young woman who did not live to see 25. Her favorite color was blue and she had a thing for King Arthur stories. She was a protector of women and ass-kicker of assholes. She wanted to learn hip hop and impress her friends who she assumed didn't take her seriously about wanting to learn how to dance. She had a lot of hope for an awesome future.
Just as I learned to carry my uncle's memory in my heart, I'll hold her memory close to me as well. I will live my life to the fullest for them and for me. I'm grieving now, but I know I won't grieve forever. She wouldn't want me to do that.
Rest in peace...and thank you. For not being afraid to live, learn, laugh, and love.
Friday, June 25, 2010
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
June 8th = 1st Day on Testosterone
I've been having some really crazy days lately. I wish I could've made a YouTube video of my "First day on T", but considering how behind I've been on vids anyway I'm not feeling too bad about it. A good number of transguys on Youtube are really thorough about documenting their transition, but I guess with everything else I've been going through lately (namely, my first DUI arrest and a recent break up) my motivation has not been there yet. Oh, it also doesn't help that I got my Hepatitis A shot as well and even now it's still hurting my arm.
Anyway, on to the first doctor's visit. I wasn't sure that I was going to get my first shot done that day actually. I was worried about the cost and the fact that I haven't told my dad or most of my coworkers yet, etc. My doctor's assistant told me in the exam room that there is a student that will conduct my briefing interview. I was expecting a med student around my age, but she ended up being older, but probably not by a whole lot. Late 20s to mid 30s maybe? I'm not sure. Older people love me because I always guess younger than they are. That went well and next there was a small physical exam. With all the questions she was asking me, I wondered if I was supposed to say that I was worried that all my saying "No" was actually a bad thing. I honestly didn't know if my mother's side of the family has a history of medical problems, I didn't know whether to mention that I had an uncle who was diabetic, or even if my mild congestion was anything worth concern.
Then I met my doctor who I found out that day is a Reverend in an inclusive Orthodox church. He had his black priest attire under his doctor's coat, which I found really interesting since I've only seen that on TV maybe once or twice. He got my questions answered about self-injecting, the dosage amount, taking androgel if I ever feel the need to, etc. As he was going over the results of my lab work, he mentioned that I am not immune to hepatitis A and asked if I wanted to get the shot for that taken cared of as well. At that time, I also felt the need to ask them about getting a pap smear done since I hadn't done that at all yet.
So there you have it, if yesterday was a book and I had to give it a title it would be called, "Two Shots and a Pap Smear". Personally, the T-shot was the best part of them all, but I guess I'm pretty biased about that anyway right? LOL
Oh speaking of which, it's a 200 mg dose shot administered every two weeks. It felt like a rush of cold water into my butt actually. Of course, there's no immediate effects, but for some reason I did feel calmer. Probably just relieved that I'm finally getting this started. I also found out that while the office my doctor works at deals strictly with transgender and HIV patients, I'm only the 3rd or 4th FtM their office has had. Majority of their transgendered patients are MtFs. As happy as I was, my day tanked a few hours later when I received letters from DUI attorneys asking to represent me in my upcoming court trial. In between that I had a late lunch/early dinner with my mother at a Chinese restaurant. I had to give some basic ftm trans 101 since I had mentioned to her about "being a boy" but I don't think it sunk in with her that I wanted to physically transition or what that entailed. Naturally, she asked all the typical questions about body parts and while I sighed I figured I will just have to learn to get used to it.
It just sank in with me on that day just how small the ftm community is here. Makes me feel more alone than I've already been feeling, but somehow I still have this inner sense of peace telling me that I'm doing the right thing and that I'll be okay. I did a recording of myself singing both parts to Owl City's "The Saltwater Room" and laughed at how my "girl part" sounds terrible anyway. Oh well.
Sleep and I have been on and off lately, so I am going to attempt to sleep again. At least I managed to document something of my day LOL Good night...
Anyway, on to the first doctor's visit. I wasn't sure that I was going to get my first shot done that day actually. I was worried about the cost and the fact that I haven't told my dad or most of my coworkers yet, etc. My doctor's assistant told me in the exam room that there is a student that will conduct my briefing interview. I was expecting a med student around my age, but she ended up being older, but probably not by a whole lot. Late 20s to mid 30s maybe? I'm not sure. Older people love me because I always guess younger than they are. That went well and next there was a small physical exam. With all the questions she was asking me, I wondered if I was supposed to say that I was worried that all my saying "No" was actually a bad thing. I honestly didn't know if my mother's side of the family has a history of medical problems, I didn't know whether to mention that I had an uncle who was diabetic, or even if my mild congestion was anything worth concern.
Then I met my doctor who I found out that day is a Reverend in an inclusive Orthodox church. He had his black priest attire under his doctor's coat, which I found really interesting since I've only seen that on TV maybe once or twice. He got my questions answered about self-injecting, the dosage amount, taking androgel if I ever feel the need to, etc. As he was going over the results of my lab work, he mentioned that I am not immune to hepatitis A and asked if I wanted to get the shot for that taken cared of as well. At that time, I also felt the need to ask them about getting a pap smear done since I hadn't done that at all yet.
So there you have it, if yesterday was a book and I had to give it a title it would be called, "Two Shots and a Pap Smear". Personally, the T-shot was the best part of them all, but I guess I'm pretty biased about that anyway right? LOL
Oh speaking of which, it's a 200 mg dose shot administered every two weeks. It felt like a rush of cold water into my butt actually. Of course, there's no immediate effects, but for some reason I did feel calmer. Probably just relieved that I'm finally getting this started. I also found out that while the office my doctor works at deals strictly with transgender and HIV patients, I'm only the 3rd or 4th FtM their office has had. Majority of their transgendered patients are MtFs. As happy as I was, my day tanked a few hours later when I received letters from DUI attorneys asking to represent me in my upcoming court trial. In between that I had a late lunch/early dinner with my mother at a Chinese restaurant. I had to give some basic ftm trans 101 since I had mentioned to her about "being a boy" but I don't think it sunk in with her that I wanted to physically transition or what that entailed. Naturally, she asked all the typical questions about body parts and while I sighed I figured I will just have to learn to get used to it.
It just sank in with me on that day just how small the ftm community is here. Makes me feel more alone than I've already been feeling, but somehow I still have this inner sense of peace telling me that I'm doing the right thing and that I'll be okay. I did a recording of myself singing both parts to Owl City's "The Saltwater Room" and laughed at how my "girl part" sounds terrible anyway. Oh well.
Sleep and I have been on and off lately, so I am going to attempt to sleep again. At least I managed to document something of my day LOL Good night...
Sunday, June 6, 2010
Honesty is the best policy...
...even if the truth is a sonuvabitch.
"If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be." -- Anonymous
I'm figuring out very quickly that there's a difference between "meant to be" and "meant to last". Take my relationship history, for example. They were all meant to be because they happened, but they weren't meant to last because they didn't. The worst one is the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I compare it to a married couple whom one of the partners comes out as gay or trans. It devastates everyone involved once the truth comes out but...what if the truth hadn't? The partner that comes out may love their spouse so much that they were willing to suffer quietly on the inside, but how can one stand to live with themselves if they're living in pain?
I'm sick and tired of closets and the skeletons that lurk within. All I want to do is to live my life free of both, even at the cost of being seen as a traitor or an asshole. Hey, at least I can call myself out on own BS. I would rather be hated for being honest than hated for being dishonest. And honestly...I really don't care if I end up walking this path alone. There will be someone out there someday who will be able to look at what I've done and say, "You followed your heart. No one can fault you for it." Until then, people can throw all the tomatoes they want at me.
Am I really selfish for wanting to do what I feel is right? If any of my exes had been nearly as honest and upfront about their stupidity as I am about mine, then maybe I would've hated them a whole lot less. I wish someone would understand that someone didn't just show up in my life out of nowhere and caused this. The truth is that I've held on to past feelings and that has affected every relationship I've been in since. I kept trying to give my whole heart to others when I did not have a whole heart to give. People won't understand because most of them don't know about it. It wasn't for them to know.
I wish someone could see what I see. I see that I could potentially be making yet another big mistake in my life, but I believe that I will be a better person for standing up for myself. I'm not saying I'm without heart, because mines is breaking even as I write this. I'm beginning to wonder if my tear ducts are shot because I've cried so much already. And yet...I've done everything I can to be understanding of other people's thoughts and feelings...why am I not shown the same regard?
I'm not afraid of walking this path alone. At least I'm doing it with my own two feet.If someone wants to find me, they wouldn't have to look far. This invisible man is not hiding anymore.
"If you love something, let it go. If it comes back to you, its yours forever. If it dosent, then it was never meant to be." -- Anonymous
I'm figuring out very quickly that there's a difference between "meant to be" and "meant to last". Take my relationship history, for example. They were all meant to be because they happened, but they weren't meant to last because they didn't. The worst one is the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I compare it to a married couple whom one of the partners comes out as gay or trans. It devastates everyone involved once the truth comes out but...what if the truth hadn't? The partner that comes out may love their spouse so much that they were willing to suffer quietly on the inside, but how can one stand to live with themselves if they're living in pain?
I'm sick and tired of closets and the skeletons that lurk within. All I want to do is to live my life free of both, even at the cost of being seen as a traitor or an asshole. Hey, at least I can call myself out on own BS. I would rather be hated for being honest than hated for being dishonest. And honestly...I really don't care if I end up walking this path alone. There will be someone out there someday who will be able to look at what I've done and say, "You followed your heart. No one can fault you for it." Until then, people can throw all the tomatoes they want at me.
Am I really selfish for wanting to do what I feel is right? If any of my exes had been nearly as honest and upfront about their stupidity as I am about mine, then maybe I would've hated them a whole lot less. I wish someone would understand that someone didn't just show up in my life out of nowhere and caused this. The truth is that I've held on to past feelings and that has affected every relationship I've been in since. I kept trying to give my whole heart to others when I did not have a whole heart to give. People won't understand because most of them don't know about it. It wasn't for them to know.
I wish someone could see what I see. I see that I could potentially be making yet another big mistake in my life, but I believe that I will be a better person for standing up for myself. I'm not saying I'm without heart, because mines is breaking even as I write this. I'm beginning to wonder if my tear ducts are shot because I've cried so much already. And yet...I've done everything I can to be understanding of other people's thoughts and feelings...why am I not shown the same regard?
I'm not afraid of walking this path alone. At least I'm doing it with my own two feet.If someone wants to find me, they wouldn't have to look far. This invisible man is not hiding anymore.
Sunday, May 30, 2010
Karma's Great Big Ass-Whooping
My male-bashing started at the tender age of 9 years old. After careful reflection of what was going on around me and through mediums like television, I told myself, "Boys are stupid. All they ever do is break girls' hearts."
From there, I polished myself to be the gentleman that I only saw on tv or read in books. The kind that I thought didn't exist in real life. This was the beginning of my "knight in shining armor" era/mentality. This concept was further reinforced by the various King Arthur books and movies I absorbed and anything that I could find about the Middle Ages. Of course, I would later find out in a high school history class that the Crusades didn't start off as being a noble pursuit and that knights of that era were originally jobless thieves and mercenaries that eventually learned to clean up their act.
If you want to talk about someone defending women, I was one of them. For any guy that broke any of my female friends' hearts, I gave them the stink-eye. When girls wanted to cry and sob about their boy issues, I made sure I was their shoulder and listening ear. I even tried to stop one of my closest friends (and one of my biggest crushes in the 7th grade) from dating the guy she wanted. I tried to be everything that I thought the "perfect man" should be and despised the rest of the real-world men whom I saw as chauvinistic douchebags.
That era crashed and burned when one of my romantic relationships failed miserably and made me see just how far gone I was in my delusions. Not that I didn't have the right heart about it. Even now I still have a soft spot for protecting women and wishing that the men they try so hard to win over weren't such complete morons. (And I also have a horrible habit of cock-blocking when I'm drunk.) While I was once the knight riding off into the sunset on a white horse ready to rescue the next damsel-in-distress, I'm now a battle-tested veteran comfortable with keeping my sword and shield on the wall of memories.
And what made me put down my armaments? The realization that I was just like the boys I so loathed and despised. While I did break a few male hearts during my first stints at dating, most of the hearts I've broken belonged to women. I betrayed my first love when I was 14 years old by kissing one of my male classmates (who ironically turned out to be gay). Why did I do it? Because I was scared. Scared of being attracted to women and the backlash I would get from family and friends for that. Scared of committing to someone who lives half of the Pacific Ocean away and not ever knowing what physical intimacy would be like. Scared that it was "just a phase" that she and I were going through and that at any moment, one or both of us would decide that we made a huge mistake. In the end, my fears led to me becoming the very thing I hated: a heart-breaker.
More heartbreaks later brought me to understand why I male-bashed so much: I wanted to be them. I guess you can say that I'm the trans equivalent of the homophobe who goes around gay-bashing to hide his closeted gayness. I wanted to be the cute guy that the girls giggled and pointed at shyly huddled next to their lockers. I wanted girls to see me as the boy with the nice eyes and sexy smile. As a confused teenager, I listened to all the female gossip and chatter and took notes of who I could be if given the chance. When I came out as a lesbian? I played it up to the fullest! My best and worst relationships were with bisexual women because they could see my masculinity before I was even aware of it.
Things have now come full circle, but in many ways I feel like I'm at square one again. While I've accepted my male identity, I still have to learn the mannerisms and social protocols of men. Several nights ago I ran into two friends I haven't seen in awhile. After finishing up conversation and realizing I needed to go home to get some rest, I hugged my female friend without a problem. When it came time to bid my male friend farewell, it was an awkward shoulder-hug thing because neither of us knew how to really interact in that situation. Having been perceived as female for so long I only know what works from a female perspective.
While I look forward to living and growing as a man, I actually like looking back on my life to laugh at all the irony I see.
EDIT: In case people get confused about what I said, I know men and women break hearts all the time. Hopefully you got the message that I was calling myself out on my own childhood prejudices against cismen.
From there, I polished myself to be the gentleman that I only saw on tv or read in books. The kind that I thought didn't exist in real life. This was the beginning of my "knight in shining armor" era/mentality. This concept was further reinforced by the various King Arthur books and movies I absorbed and anything that I could find about the Middle Ages. Of course, I would later find out in a high school history class that the Crusades didn't start off as being a noble pursuit and that knights of that era were originally jobless thieves and mercenaries that eventually learned to clean up their act.
If you want to talk about someone defending women, I was one of them. For any guy that broke any of my female friends' hearts, I gave them the stink-eye. When girls wanted to cry and sob about their boy issues, I made sure I was their shoulder and listening ear. I even tried to stop one of my closest friends (and one of my biggest crushes in the 7th grade) from dating the guy she wanted. I tried to be everything that I thought the "perfect man" should be and despised the rest of the real-world men whom I saw as chauvinistic douchebags.
That era crashed and burned when one of my romantic relationships failed miserably and made me see just how far gone I was in my delusions. Not that I didn't have the right heart about it. Even now I still have a soft spot for protecting women and wishing that the men they try so hard to win over weren't such complete morons. (And I also have a horrible habit of cock-blocking when I'm drunk.) While I was once the knight riding off into the sunset on a white horse ready to rescue the next damsel-in-distress, I'm now a battle-tested veteran comfortable with keeping my sword and shield on the wall of memories.
And what made me put down my armaments? The realization that I was just like the boys I so loathed and despised. While I did break a few male hearts during my first stints at dating, most of the hearts I've broken belonged to women. I betrayed my first love when I was 14 years old by kissing one of my male classmates (who ironically turned out to be gay). Why did I do it? Because I was scared. Scared of being attracted to women and the backlash I would get from family and friends for that. Scared of committing to someone who lives half of the Pacific Ocean away and not ever knowing what physical intimacy would be like. Scared that it was "just a phase" that she and I were going through and that at any moment, one or both of us would decide that we made a huge mistake. In the end, my fears led to me becoming the very thing I hated: a heart-breaker.
More heartbreaks later brought me to understand why I male-bashed so much: I wanted to be them. I guess you can say that I'm the trans equivalent of the homophobe who goes around gay-bashing to hide his closeted gayness. I wanted to be the cute guy that the girls giggled and pointed at shyly huddled next to their lockers. I wanted girls to see me as the boy with the nice eyes and sexy smile. As a confused teenager, I listened to all the female gossip and chatter and took notes of who I could be if given the chance. When I came out as a lesbian? I played it up to the fullest! My best and worst relationships were with bisexual women because they could see my masculinity before I was even aware of it.
Things have now come full circle, but in many ways I feel like I'm at square one again. While I've accepted my male identity, I still have to learn the mannerisms and social protocols of men. Several nights ago I ran into two friends I haven't seen in awhile. After finishing up conversation and realizing I needed to go home to get some rest, I hugged my female friend without a problem. When it came time to bid my male friend farewell, it was an awkward shoulder-hug thing because neither of us knew how to really interact in that situation. Having been perceived as female for so long I only know what works from a female perspective.
While I look forward to living and growing as a man, I actually like looking back on my life to laugh at all the irony I see.
EDIT: In case people get confused about what I said, I know men and women break hearts all the time. Hopefully you got the message that I was calling myself out on my own childhood prejudices against cismen.
Monday, May 17, 2010
This and that
I just realized something today....
I'm only funny when I flirt with girls or when I'm around my friends. The other problem is I can't keep a straight face DURING my attempt at being funny. I think about the punchline ahead of time and I'm already giggling (boys DO giggle, so shut up, you haters!) MIDWAY through the joke, making everyone around me scratch their heads and think, "What's funny? Did I miss something?"
*sigh* Must be the Filipino in me...
I'm only funny when I flirt with girls or when I'm around my friends. The other problem is I can't keep a straight face DURING my attempt at being funny. I think about the punchline ahead of time and I'm already giggling (boys DO giggle, so shut up, you haters!) MIDWAY through the joke, making everyone around me scratch their heads and think, "What's funny? Did I miss something?"
*sigh* Must be the Filipino in me...
Wednesday, April 28, 2010
You Tell Me What Makes a Man...and I'll Tell You To Shove It
I'm irritated. I've been irritated with something ever since a friend's mother tried to make a point about it to me a couple of years ago. At one of the earlier stages towards the downfall of my last relationship, my friend's mom (whom a few of you reading this know will know who I'm referring to) verbally cornered me one evening over dinner at L&L at Town Center trying to figure out "why I was gay". A lot of subjects and tears came up that evening that I really don't want to remember, but the thing that has stood out most clearly in my mind was when she told me, "I would not ever want to be a man. I do not envy my husband because of the hell he goes through putting up with me, the responsibility of being a man, etc etc"
Back then, I was confused by that statement. What does two women in a committed relationship have anything to do with being a man? At the time she was a pastor's assistant and would later tell me that she doesn't believe that there's such a thing as a gay person. She was convinced that they "became that way" because of poor upbringing, bad childhood experiences, etc. She said that while she could believe that there are legitimately gay people out there, she's convinced that the majority are just confused and sorting through their issues.
Flash forward to just a couple of nights ago. I confronted one of my co-workers about whether or not she had read my note about my coming out as trans. She did and we had a nice, small conversation about it, which was nice because I felt relieved that she had actually cared about me enough to read it. Towards the end of the conversation though, she told me "It's hard being a guy. You get into a lot of fights and stuff." And I, yet again, was completely stunned. Later on, after getting some thoughts processed, I finally replied, "I'd rather get into fights than be someone that I'm not." What I really meant to say was a quote from one of the YouTube videos I've seen recently that said something along the lines of, "It's better to be hated for who you are than to be hated for who you are not."
Later on THAT SAME night, I go to my last workplace to visit a friend/former co-worker and I run into another former co-worker who just happened to be there that night having some beers and hanging out. I'm talking story with him, catching up and sharing updates on what's been going on in our lives and later on in the conversation he talked about how he doesn't ever want to go drinking at The Shack. I asked him why and he said it's because he has to watch what he drinks so he doesn't get too drunk and then start getting into fights. Which made me beg the question, "Why would you just all of a sudden get into a fight if you don't initiate one or just leave other people alone?" and he basically says, "Guys are just like that. They have all that testosterone in them and when they get drunk they get fired off about anything like who looks at you a certain way and whatnot."
On a side note, a friend recently expressed her dislike in my chosen name simply because 'Cyrus' reminded her of some unpleasant person she knows. She then tried to plea with me to help her come up with possible-Japanese names as other alternatives to consider. I took it politely, but inside I was fuming. I don't know who the fuck this other Cyrus guy is and clearly he's not me so why would a similar name remind you of someone that I'm not? I compromised with her by saying that she and another friend can think of a nickname for me since Kris and K-chan will one day be obsolete, but really I was crushed inside.
So these things that have happened before and after my coming out as trans has clearly opened me up to a lot of experiences, mostly positive but occasionally very puzzling. People are so conditioned to believe that genitalia is what makes a person to a point where even a lesbian is quick to ask me "So how much does it cost to get a dick anyway?". Of course, I was one of those people at one point. Like I said earlier, I thought the only way to transition to a male was to have the phalloplasty. Then later when I learned that top surgery and T-treatments were enough for most trans men, it made me see that what goes on underneath the pants is nobody's business but the person and whoever he/she sleeps with.
It's no one's fault for being initially naive and unaware of certain things, but it becomes ignorance on their part when they try to bury their heads back into the sand of their old beliefs just because they're afraid of what's different.
But back to the original subject, hormones also do not make a person. Just because a dude's naturally swimming in T doesn't mean they have no common sense or rational thought. Yes, excessive alcohol tends to dull one's thinking, but you still have control over your body. I'm finding that what many people think of as being a man or a woman is absolutely ridiculous. But I guess that's easier to say coming from someone like me who blurs the gender lines without conscious awareness of it most times. Even Paula's mom admitted to me that if she were to be reincarnated in another life that she would want to be reincarnated as a man because "it's a man's world.'"
I'm finding myself questioning the validity of such a statement more and more. It's one thing for men to be chauvinistic slimeballs, another thing for all people to be supportive of equality on all levels, and another thing for women to be complacent with the inequity in their lives with their "that's just the way it is" attitude. I'm sorry, but I can't live in a world with that kind of narrow-mindedness. I think people should listen to Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" more often and learn to see beyond their five senses.
Back then, I was confused by that statement. What does two women in a committed relationship have anything to do with being a man? At the time she was a pastor's assistant and would later tell me that she doesn't believe that there's such a thing as a gay person. She was convinced that they "became that way" because of poor upbringing, bad childhood experiences, etc. She said that while she could believe that there are legitimately gay people out there, she's convinced that the majority are just confused and sorting through their issues.
Flash forward to just a couple of nights ago. I confronted one of my co-workers about whether or not she had read my note about my coming out as trans. She did and we had a nice, small conversation about it, which was nice because I felt relieved that she had actually cared about me enough to read it. Towards the end of the conversation though, she told me "It's hard being a guy. You get into a lot of fights and stuff." And I, yet again, was completely stunned. Later on, after getting some thoughts processed, I finally replied, "I'd rather get into fights than be someone that I'm not." What I really meant to say was a quote from one of the YouTube videos I've seen recently that said something along the lines of, "It's better to be hated for who you are than to be hated for who you are not."
Later on THAT SAME night, I go to my last workplace to visit a friend/former co-worker and I run into another former co-worker who just happened to be there that night having some beers and hanging out. I'm talking story with him, catching up and sharing updates on what's been going on in our lives and later on in the conversation he talked about how he doesn't ever want to go drinking at The Shack. I asked him why and he said it's because he has to watch what he drinks so he doesn't get too drunk and then start getting into fights. Which made me beg the question, "Why would you just all of a sudden get into a fight if you don't initiate one or just leave other people alone?" and he basically says, "Guys are just like that. They have all that testosterone in them and when they get drunk they get fired off about anything like who looks at you a certain way and whatnot."
On a side note, a friend recently expressed her dislike in my chosen name simply because 'Cyrus' reminded her of some unpleasant person she knows. She then tried to plea with me to help her come up with possible-Japanese names as other alternatives to consider. I took it politely, but inside I was fuming. I don't know who the fuck this other Cyrus guy is and clearly he's not me so why would a similar name remind you of someone that I'm not? I compromised with her by saying that she and another friend can think of a nickname for me since Kris and K-chan will one day be obsolete, but really I was crushed inside.
So these things that have happened before and after my coming out as trans has clearly opened me up to a lot of experiences, mostly positive but occasionally very puzzling. People are so conditioned to believe that genitalia is what makes a person to a point where even a lesbian is quick to ask me "So how much does it cost to get a dick anyway?". Of course, I was one of those people at one point. Like I said earlier, I thought the only way to transition to a male was to have the phalloplasty. Then later when I learned that top surgery and T-treatments were enough for most trans men, it made me see that what goes on underneath the pants is nobody's business but the person and whoever he/she sleeps with.
It's no one's fault for being initially naive and unaware of certain things, but it becomes ignorance on their part when they try to bury their heads back into the sand of their old beliefs just because they're afraid of what's different.
But back to the original subject, hormones also do not make a person. Just because a dude's naturally swimming in T doesn't mean they have no common sense or rational thought. Yes, excessive alcohol tends to dull one's thinking, but you still have control over your body. I'm finding that what many people think of as being a man or a woman is absolutely ridiculous. But I guess that's easier to say coming from someone like me who blurs the gender lines without conscious awareness of it most times. Even Paula's mom admitted to me that if she were to be reincarnated in another life that she would want to be reincarnated as a man because "it's a man's world.'"
I'm finding myself questioning the validity of such a statement more and more. It's one thing for men to be chauvinistic slimeballs, another thing for all people to be supportive of equality on all levels, and another thing for women to be complacent with the inequity in their lives with their "that's just the way it is" attitude. I'm sorry, but I can't live in a world with that kind of narrow-mindedness. I think people should listen to Michael Jackson's "Man in the Mirror" more often and learn to see beyond their five senses.
Tuesday, April 20, 2010
Binding - Phase Two: Professional ones
Okay, so I quickly got over using elastic bandages because not only are they uncomfortable, they're just not effective for the long-haul. I knew that would be the case, but I got it simply to hold me over until I get something better.
And that "better" just came in today. I bought the black compression muscle shirt from Underworks.com. I ordered it yesterday morning and it arrived today, from Miami, FL all the way to Hawaii. Nice!
Does it work? Well, yeah, but it doesn't completely flatten out the chest area. There's still a noticeable bump there, but I think with some layering it'll work. I will try different types of layers to see what will work, but for the most part I am happy that I made this one my first purchase. I can use it at the gym or underneath my clothes.
More on that later...have a slight headache. Could've been a combination of playing ODST with the muscle shirt on, staring at the tv screen too long, not getting enough to eat and drink, etc.
And that "better" just came in today. I bought the black compression muscle shirt from Underworks.com. I ordered it yesterday morning and it arrived today, from Miami, FL all the way to Hawaii. Nice!
Does it work? Well, yeah, but it doesn't completely flatten out the chest area. There's still a noticeable bump there, but I think with some layering it'll work. I will try different types of layers to see what will work, but for the most part I am happy that I made this one my first purchase. I can use it at the gym or underneath my clothes.
More on that later...have a slight headache. Could've been a combination of playing ODST with the muscle shirt on, staring at the tv screen too long, not getting enough to eat and drink, etc.
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