You Can't Love God and Be Transgender & Gay

I just got an email from someone, an old friend of mine who had heard about my "struggle with my true identity and the one that the devil is trying to give me."

I shit you not, that's what she said to me.

Now, it's been a few years since I went to seminary school, but I do remember attending and more than that I remember being at the top of my class...getting higher grades than this "friend" of mine, so I do know a thing or two about the Bible and the Torah.

I was raised in a home that practiced both Christianity and Judaism. I pretty much grew up referring to myself as a Messianic Jew, which means that I studied the Torah, celebrated Chanukah (Hanukkah for you Gentiles-LOL), celebrated the different Jewish holidays, and believed that Jesus is the son of God, sent down to the Earth to die for the sins of the world to give us access back to the Father (YHVH). I speak a little bit of Hebrew, can say some Hebrew prayers, listened to Christian music...

I was one confused, but extremely devout...something.


When I got older, one of the things that I always, always, always struggled with was the amount of judging and condemning that went on in the two different religions: Christianity and Judaism. These were the two religions that weren't supposed to be judging people. The God that they served (YHVH) was a God of forgiveness, second-chances, acceptance and most importantly LOVE. Like seriously, as I grew up I wondered how the God I served, and the God that my biologicals served could be so glaringly different.

My God said to "bless those who curse you and spitefully use you." Their God said "I will curse those who curse you." My God said "Love your neighbor as yourself." Their God said "Vengeance is Mine saith the Lord."

My God said "Judge NOT lest ye be judged." Their God said "And all liars, prostitutes, gamblers, those who practiced witchcraft, deceivers, adulterers, those who burned in lust, murderers, thieves, blasphemers...all burned in the lake of fire for all eternity."

And yes I know that all of these verses are in the Bible...I studied it...thoroughly and I began to notice how some things contradicted with other things. It was almost as if God changed his mind about some things and said "Okay, this wasn't as bad as I thought," and then on others said "OH! Wait! Nope, changed my mind, you see this? THIS is going to send you to hell...forever." Being a seminary student attending school to become a pastor and having been raised in the home that I was I accepted a lot of what I'd been told without question...for the most part.

However, when I'd get alone I'd study different words and realize that the truth of the Scriptures had been completely lost in translation.

"The fear of the Lord is the beginning of wisdom." Well this is a verse of Scripture that the biologicals used to say to me and the other kids so that we would have a healthy "fear" of God. I grew up thinking that if I screwed up, God was going to strike me with a lightning bolt. Upon further study I found out that that "fear" was actually "awe".

Yeah, makes that verse of Scripture take on a whole new meaning huh?

And the verse of Scripture "Spare the rod, spoil the child," that my parents used to justify whipping us with a belt or a switch when we'd misbehaved (really all of the adults in my family used it-even the ones who didn't believe in God), has also been wildly mistranslated. The "rod" that's being referred to in that Scripture is not an instrument of discipline, it's the Torah. Yes, the roll of Scriptures, or book of Scriptures, known as the Torah, is referred to as "the rod." So in essence that verse of Scripture is "If you don't teach your child the Torah, they will grow up disrespectful, spoiled and rebellious."

So I said all of this to this "friend" of mine. Pointed out to her that there was no way she could use any Scripture to justify her statements to me, that Romans 1:26-27 had been wildly mistranslated, that there were 6 times as many Scriptures, cautions, and chastisements in the Bible for "religious, saved, Christian heterosexuals" as there were for "heathenistic homosexuals" and that she should really study her Bible a whole lot more than she did when we were in seminary school if she was going to tell me that my lifestyle "choice" was wrong.

Then I pointed out to her that there's not one verse of Scripture in the Bible that speaks about transgenders.

Not one.

I don't think I'll be hearing back from her. Especially since at the end of my reply I told her that she'd broken more "laws" of the Bible and had committed more acts of sin by emailing me, than I have by living my truth and loving my man.

So while she told me that I can't "love God and be transgender and gay," I'm very happy to tell you that that's not true. YHVH (God, Jesus, the whole gang) and I are good friends. I love Him and He loves me and I am an OUT AND PROUD, transgender male homosexual who knows for a fact that I'll get into Heaven.

Thank you very much.


-Vicktor Aleksandr B

*My name is Vicktor and I approve this blog post*

Dear Dr. Transphobic Asshole

This is a portion of the letter that I wrote to my Transgender/LGBTQ/AIDS Advocate/Social Worker at the end of this post is the letter that I'm considering sending to the Transphobic Asshole Doctor named "Tara":

So, today I went up to the VA Emergency Department for my knee. I knew that I had probably twisted it or done some damage to it over the weekend and at Cherie's insistence I went to the ER, two hours before my appointment with Brandi. When I arrived I made sure that they knew that I had a previously scheduled appointment and they said that they'd make sure that I got to my appointment on time. So I was called back to the hospital room and put inside. An hour later (about 30 minutes before my appointment with Brandi) I was still waiting in the room. No one had been by to check on me or even to stick their head in the door. This wasn't too shocking as the VA oftentimes will stick a patient who isn't critical in a room and leave them there for over an hour, but I thought that they would take quicker care of me, seeing as how they knew of my other appointment.

Anyway, I eventually got up and hobbled up to the front desk and informed the receptionist there that I had another appointment that I had to get to and that I would be back, when it was over but that I absolutely could not miss my appointment. He asked me to wait a few minutes for the charge nurse to show up and I agreed. No sooner did our conversation end when I heard my name being said by one of the doctors, my legal name, the one that it's in the system but also has a notation in the field that states that I am to be called: Vicktor or Vic.

I figure it will be quicker for me to just put it in dialogue form the conversation with Doctor Tara, the doctor mentioned above, and her colleague.

Dr. Tara: I'm supposed to see somebody named...Veronica. Why the hell does it say Vic in here?

Colleague: Oh yeah, I saw her last week. Her legal name is Veronica, but she goes by Vic and everyone calls her Vic.

Dr. Tara: Why?

Colleague: Because she's transgender, so I guess she's a he. So his name is Vic, that's what we call him.

Dr. Tara: Oh no! Are you serious? I've got one of them?

Colleague: (blushing slightly because he saw me) I just saw Vic last week for...chest pains, right Vic?

Me: Yeah.

Dr. Tara looked at me and gave me a look of disgust and that's when I told her that I had another appointment to be at and that I had to leave but that I would be back after that.

She informed me that she'd rather see me first and then then have me get sent down for X-Rays and then for me to go to see Brandi. I had no problem with this and agreed. So Dr. Tara led me back to the very room I'd just left out of and asked me what had happened to my knee, I explained it to her and then when we got in the room, I wasn't told to sit down or anything so I could be examined properly, I was asked to roll up my pants leg and my knee was barely touched by her before she went to the sink and scrubbed her hands furiously as she explained that it didn't feel swollen but that she would call for an X-ray. Now, I don't know if she knows something I don't and being transgender is actually contagious, I'm not sure why she felt she had to scrub her hands so hard, but I do know that I felt beyond offended at her actions. 

I wish I could tell you that the story ended there, but it didn't.

When I went in to go get my X-Ray (which I had to walk to-on my bad knee which is also on the same leg as my sprained ankle) the X-Ray tech there (whose name is Zach I believe) didn't even have mypaperwork, he had someone else's, because while they'd sent me down there, they hadn't given him the right information about who I was, what name I'm supposed to be called, questions to avoid asking me and even  which knee was the injured one. So when Zach finished with me he told me that he had to take me back to the ER, now I'd been told that when I finished in the ER I was supposed to go straight to my appt, Zach had been told to bring me back there. So he led me in and I brought up that he'd told me to come back in. With a sigh of disgust and a huge amount of attitude Dr. Tara said, "No, I told you to go straight to your appointment."

So I went.

When my appt was over I returned to the ER to get the results of my X-Ray (which I knew that if they wanted an accurate diagnosis of what was wrong with my knee that I should've had a MRI done, especially since I'd informed Dr. Tara that I'd torn my miniscus tendon in this same knee ten years before and had never had the surgery for it done. I walked into the ER, filled out the paperwork to let them know I was back for my results and sat and waited. I'd come in at about 12:10, by 1:00pm, my sister Cherie was livid, because I was supposed to have taken the DAV (the transportation for veterans, which is who had brought me in and with whom I was supposed to have take me home) home, but I'd missed them and it was too late. My name was still never called. By this point my knee is throbbing, I'm annoyed, Cherie is annoyed and I've told her about the doctor's initial reaction to me and she's already put in a few calls to people. Carissa, the OIF (Operation Iraqi Freedom) worker assigned to me, has come down to the ER to check on me, it's now 1:30pm. She tells me about the phone call for Cherie, that she's going to try and get me home, that she was sorry for all that I'd endured, etc., etc., etc. Then she says that she's going to go and check and see what the problem is. As soon as she steps into the back and asks a question, Dr. Tara comes in and says she doesn't know why they didn't come and get her, that they'd gotten my X-Ray results two hours before. She tells me that the X-Rays came back fine and so I probably just twisted it and she's going to go and get me a brace. I go to follow her so she can put it on and she tells me to wait at the door. She comes back with two braces. One she says is a medium, the other she says is a large. She looks at my knee and, again, barely touches it as she tries to see which size will fit me, she tells me I need a large and that I'd have to "take all that off" (and gestures at my pants and the bottom half of my body with a sneer on her face) and that she'll just give me the brace so I can put it on. And then she practically shoves the brace in a bag that says it's a "large", but as we found out later was actually a "medium" in a large bag, and rushes off as if the hounds of hell were on her behind.

M, man, honestly, had I known that transgenderism was contagious, I would've worn a mask or something.

I did report her to the Patient's Advocate and Michele apologized to me on behalf of the hospital and said that the doctor would be given a "stern talking to," but honestly, even though the military is far more progressive today than it was when I was in there, even though DADT has been repealed, even though this hospital and this VA is a ton more accepting than the one I came from in Florida, I still know that they'll talk to her so that it can be put in her file, but that there are some people who would be silently applauding her for treating the "tranny" like she did.a

I am not typically a blood-thirsty, you made me mad and almost made me cry and now you must lose your job, type of person, but I told Cherie that I want Dr. Tara to lose her job. I'm already having to attend the "Mental Health" department just because I am trans and I grew up in the household/family that I did and trying to balance my truth with their angry voice. And I'm there because of my disabilities and how that affects me not being able to find a job that's understanding with my injuries. So with having this............................."doctor" treat me the way she did? Cherie had to put a call in to Brandi and let her know.

That was moments before we found out that the brace given to me or rather shoved at me, was the wrong size.

Cherie is going down to the VA tomorrow to have it out with them and get me a new brace, but she suggested that I tell you to see if you had any ideas about what else, if anything, I should do. She wants to contact the local LGBTQ chapter, the HRC chapter (she even teased about contacting the news station) and like I said, honestly, I'm not usually the one out for blood like this, but what if I'd been a fragile teenager? What if I was already suicidal and she said that?

I want her suspended or fired. I want a true apology. I want.....to feel vindicated, like she truly leaned her lesson and would never do that again.

So any thoughts?

Dear Dr. Transphobic Asshole:

I'm sorry that you're being chewed out by your boss.

And the Patient Advocate people.

And my sister Cherie, I'm sure that's the scariest moment in the world for you.

But you should be happy. My dad is way more scarier. And my older siblings are very protective of me.

You know you were wrong and that you must pay. I won't ask for your life as payment, because I do want to live again, but, I want your job.

Because if we'd had that situation a few months ago, if you had reacted in August, in October the way you reacted today, our little "misunderstanding" then I would have tried to kill myself.

You have to understand that words and reactions carry weight and power and strength.

Your words can kill a person, can maim and bruise them, destroy them.

Words are so fucking heartbreaking it's almost ridiculous.

And I was going to take it easy and call off the Calvary, but then I remembered that, I could've been a teenager that you'd said that too and that's unacceptable.

So I'm sorry that I got the LGBTQ community involved. Sorry that people want to call the HRC. Sorry that my sister called my therapist, the hospital administrator and everyone else that she could think of and reported you. Sorry that an apology from you to me, just isn't enough at this point.

You see I may be transgender, but I'm one badass transgender, dominating bastard with a lot of people supporting me and backing me up and a lot of people fighting for me.

This time, you fucked with the wrong one.

Sincerely,

VICKTOR ALEKSANDR B.

Transgender Remembrance Day

*This post contains some very graphic, offensive, hurtful and slang terms.  They are unfortunately very pertinent to the posting of this blog.  If you are offended I encourage you to either scroll past the offensive part or close this particular post.  The words and views are not that of the author/owner/"moderator" of this blog (obviously), but are the views and opinions shared by those who are mean, hateful and woefully ignorant.*

"Aye.  Yo, man, what the fuck is that?"
"What?"
"Right there.  Aye, is that a girl or one of them sissy queers?"
"What, you mean like a fag or something?"
"Yeah."
"I don't know man.  She kinda looks like one o' 'dem trannies or some fucked up shit like that."
"Well 'den let's go find out."

"I know that you claim to identify as a gay male but...."

"You're not a "real" man though....."

"I'm just having a hard time accepting it.  I don't think you're really transgender."

"So you aren't just saying that God made a mistake by making you a girl, you're saying that you want to be an abomination and be a man who is having sex with other men?"

"The devil is going to tear you apart because you insist on living this way...."

"You're a GIRL, I don't care what you feel like.  Get over it!"

"So, you wanna be a man, huh?  Well then fight me like a man then.  You don't like me hitting you, then bring it on, otherwise I'm going to beat you like the bitch you are."



Over the last four months I've had these things said to me, about me, around me.

I have had to grip the handle of my cane tightly in my hand, ready to swing out and defend myself, just in case someone decided that they wanted to see just what I was.

I have had people ask me where my genitals were located and that that determined if I was "really a man or not."

I have had people question my decision, tell me that I'm not really transgender, and others tell me that I'm not a "real man."

I have had those same people tell me that I "shouldn't take it personally" because they worked with or knew transgender people/teens or had transgenders in their family.

That's not an excuse.

That's just like you insulting me because I'm black and then telling me not to take offense because you have black people in your family or because you know black people.

You insulted me.  You hurt me.


And that hurt has led to me fighting against thoughts of suicide, of cutting my wrists, throwing myself out of a window, throwing myself in front of a car.  The fear of being attacked and being killed makes me want to walk with my head down some days or to just smile and nod when someone calls me "she," "ma'am," "her," or "lady."

I have a friend who lives in Chicago that I wanted to visit and he told me (in no uncertain terms):
SD: Vic, no.  You can't come here alone.
Me: Why not?
SD: It's dangerous for me to be here, black and gay.  But you?  You're not just black, you're black, you're a transgender male, and you identify as being a gay man.  Don't you get it?  They will kidnap you, rape you, beat you and kill you and toss your body into a ditch on the side of the road before you even get too far from the airport and the police will just say that it was because you were alone or something.  Because you look like you're transitioning, you don't just look female or just look male, you can tell and they will hurt you because of that.  You can't come here alone.  Not yet.




Today is Transgender Remembrance Day.  A day when families and allies of transgenders gather together to remember those who lost their lives, were beaten, attacked, disowned, cast aside, hurt, all because they were transgender.

I thought long and hard about what I would write on this blog of mine which is so much different from the others that I write.  This one is personal.  This is the blog where my journey started.  This is the blog where I admitted the truth about myself.  This is the blog where I can be me.

I knew that I needed to use today, and this very same blog to raise awareness of the issue of transphobia and being transgender in this day and age.  There has been some very ugly, very disgusting and disturbing displays of transphobia within the online community that is supposed to be supportive but I believe, as does many others, that through education and those of us who are trans* speaking out that we can raise awareness and spark change.  I shall start today doing even more than I did before.  (If you would like to stand with us, please copy the two pictures on my blog and post them on your blog or as your avatar or something in alliance with us.)

Every three days in America and other parts of the world a transgender person is reported as having been killed in a hate crime.  I would like to honor some of them and hope that today you will stand with me and with others to remember those who lost their lives and to help end transphobia, because those statements above can incite others to violence and intolerance and hatred and those things can lead to death and it must end here.  Because even if you don't know a trans* person in your personal life you know of one: ME.

Erika Keels (Philadelphia, Pennsylvania; 3/22/07) Erika, a 20-year-old black transgender woman, was murdered on March 22, 2007, on North Broad Street in Philadelphia. Witnesses saw an assailant eject Erika from his car and intentionally run her over four times, killing her and leaving the scene. A medical examiner’s report supports these eyewitness accounts. But police ruled Erika’s death an accident and have refused to conduct an investigation. The driver, Roland Button, was later apprehended, but he has yet to face criminal charges–including “hit and run” charges. When Ms. Keels’ friends, who are themselves trans, questioned police officials about the classification of her death as an accident, they were asked to disclose their “birth” names and told they were “trying to make something out of nothing."

Sanesha Stewart was a 25-year-old trans woman living in the Bronx, New York, who was stabbed to death on February 10, 2008.^[15] An ex-convict was arrested for the murder. Police reported that he had visited her for sex and became enraged over the realization that she was not biologically a female.^[15] Stewart's murder, initially reported by the New York Daily News as "Fooled John Stabbed Bronx Tranny", outraged transgender activists for the act as well as the reporting in the media.^[16] A neighbor denied the police's assertion she was a prostitute.^[15] The Gay and Lesbian Alliance Against Defamation (GLAAD) intervened to inform the Daily News that tranny is often considered pejorative and dehumanizing and that insinuating Stewart "fooled" her murderer was both defamatory and irresponsible.^[17] The paper dropped both tranny and fooled in follow-up stories and changed the online version of the original report to address the concerns raised.^[15]

Larry King of Oxnard, California, was a gay or bisexual^[18] 15-year-old eighth-grade student who was shot to death at his school on February 12, 2008. He wore gender variant clothes, jewelry and make-up^[19] and had come out as gay at school.^[19] King was bullied and teased by his fellow students due to his effeminacy and openness about being gay, having come out at ten-years-old and while in the third grade.^[18] On the morning of February 12, Lawrence was in the school’s computer lab with 24 other students. Fellow student, fourteen-year-old Brandon McInerney was witnessed repeatedly looking at King during the class. At 8:15 a.m, McInerney shot King twice in the head using a handgun.^[20] King was declared brain dead the next day but kept on a ventilator to preserve his organs for donation.^[19] Prosecutors charged McInerney as an adult with murder as a premeditated hate crime and gun possession.^[19] The trial is pending as of November 2008. The crime was reputed to be the most high-profile hate crime case of 2008. Newsweek described it as "the most prominent gay-bias crime since the 1998 murder of Matthew Shepard", bringing attention to issues of gun violence as well as gender expression and sexual identity of teenagers.^[18]

Duanna Johnson, a 40-year-old African American transgender woman. In February 2008, Duanna was picked up and arrested by Memphis, Tennessee, police officers Bridges McRae and J. Swain. She was pinned down and beaten by the two men in a Memphis police jail after she refused to respond to anti-gay and anti-transgender slurs. The assault was captured on video, which aired on several regional newscasts. In an interview given to FOX 13, Duanna spoke about her experiences. “As [Officer McRae] was calling me, he said ‘hey he-she, come over here’” Johnson told FOX 13 reporters, “I knew he couldn’t be talking to me because that’s not my name.” Duanna Johnson received national media attention this past June when she went public about the brutality she suffered at the hands of two Memphis Police Officers. She became “the public face of our community’s campaign against racism, homophobia, and transphobia” according to a statement from the Mid-South Peace and Justice Center. Tragically, Duanna did not live to see full justice served. On Monday Nov 10, according to news reports, Duanna was shot “execution style” between Hollywood and Staten Avenue in Memphis, Tenn.^[21]

Felicia Melton-Smyth, a 41-year-old transwoman, was stabbed to death on May 26, 2008 in Puerto Vallarta, Mexico. She was vacationing with a group of 20 people from Madison, Wisconsin. Francisco Javier Hoyos Reyes was arrested immediately afterwards.^[22]

Angie Zapata was a trans woman who was murdered on July 17, 2008, in Greeley, Colorado. Her death was the first ever case involving a transgender victim to be ruled a hate crime.^[23] Colorado is one of only eleven states that protect transgender victims under hate crime laws in the United States. Allen Andrade, who learned eighteen-year-old Angie was transgender after meeting her and spending several days with her, beat her to death with a fire extinguisher. In his arrest affidavit, Andrade calls Zapata "it",^[24] and during his trial a tape was played of a phone conversation in which he told his girl friend "gay things need to die".^[25] Andrade's attorneys used a gay panic defense, implying that Andrade suddenly "snapped" when he learned Zapata was not born biologically female. On April 22, 2009, Andrade was found guilty of first degree murder, hate crimes, and car/ID theft. He was sentenced to life in prison without the possibility of parole.^[26]

LaTeisha Green was a trans woman who was murdered on November 14, 2008. The man who shot her, Dwight DeLee, was found guilty of first-degree manslaughter as a hate crime against gays. There are no laws protecting gender variant people in New York State.^[27][28]

[edit]2009

Tyli A Nana Boo Mack, a 21-year-old transgender woman, was attacked and fatally stabbed in broad daylight on the street in Washington, D.C. ^[29] The attack occurred on the 200 block of Q Street, NW around 2:30pm, near the offices of Transgender Health Empowerment, a transgender support group.^[29] Mack was walking with an unidentified transgender woman when they were attacked.^[30] Both victims were rushed to Howard University Hospital, where Mack died.^[31] TheMetropolitan Police Department advertised up to $25,000 in compensation for any information leading to the arrest and conviction of the person or persons responsible for Mack's murder.^[32] Some problematic coverage of Mack's murder led the D.C Transgender Coalition to issue a statement regarding respect for the gender identities of trans people.^[29]

[edit]2010

Victoria Carmen White, a 28-year-old transgender woman, was fatally shot at an apartment in Maplewood, New Jersey, on Sunday, September 11.^[33] White went to the apartment with her killers, Alrashim Chambers and Marquise Foster, whom she had met earlier that night.^[34] Investigators believe that White's killers shot her upon learning that she was transgender and are considering hate crime charges.^[34] Many transgender advocates were confused and upset by the Essex County Prosecuter's Office's initial report that White was male, despite the fact that her documentation and genital configuration confirmed she was female.^[35]*

 Find somewhere that is honoring Transgender Remembrance Day, help us end transphobia.


-Vicktor "Vic"
An Out and Proud Gay TransMAN

*Information gathered from Wikipedia:  http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/List_of_unlawfully_killed_transgender_people*

*Photo images taken with permission from: http://amaras-place.blogspot.com/2011/11/i-see-myself-embrace-rainbow.html#.TskWPlsNt6o.facebook *

Blog Pimpage

So I met an awesome girl named Kathleen through a thread on Goodreads.  She has this thing that she does on her blog called "Friday First Kisses."  She and I have been talking and she decided to write this week's FFK with a trans character.

Woohoo!!!

So go to her blog and read it.  I got to read it a few days ago and it is AH-MAH-ZING!

I've also decided to pimp a blog every Friday.  To show my support.  So much as I do on Twitter for the #FollowFriday I'm going to do "Blog Pimpage" either every Friday or every other Friday and if not a blog then an author or a person or an artist....yes.

And it shall be named: FRIDAY'S PIMPAGE!!!!

That's AWESOME!

Alright, anyway  here's the link to Kathleen's blog and the title of the "Friday First Kisses" post with the trans character is called "Perfect" starring Jesse and Leo: http://khayes54.livejournal.com

Something You'd Never Know Part Two

So yesterday I spent a while on a thread on GR speaking about coming to terms with being transgender.  Now I know that the people questioning me were not attacking me, but I didn't realize this at first, it took me venting and shaking and crying to a friend of mine before I realized that these people were probably just trying to understand me.

See unless you email me you'd never know how I agonized over coming out.  You'd never know the conversations I had with Sidney and Thorny and K Ray and Luci and Kate.  You wouldn't have read the emails where I tried to rationalize how I felt, tried to explain it away, tried to ignore it, laugh it off, the way I had a panic attack when I realized the truth about who I really am.

It's not something I shared here on my blog.

And maybe that was wrong.  I mean I have always prided myself on being open with you all, but I don't share everything, some things are just for me.  Just as you're entitled to your privacy, I am entitled to mine.  So I didn't share that.

I didn't share that I tried to commit suicide about two months ago.  That I picked up a knife and tried to slice my wrists because I was so freaked out about everything, that it took my friend Keesha and an email from Thorny to save my life.

It's not something I wanted to share.

I also didn't share that when I was growing up I never wanted to wear skirts or dresses.  I hated the stupid purses my mother used to always buy me and that every Easter when my mother and aunt would go out and buy our Easter clothes I always pitched a fit because I wanted to wear a suit and not a "stupid dress with lace and flowers."  I didn't mention that when I was 10 and I had that tantrum that my mother pulled out this thin leather belt and whipped me in the dressing room and then told me that if I cried too loudly she was going to get my father to deal with me when we got home.  That was the last time I tried to fight about wearing a suit.

It's not something I wanted to share.

I didn't tell you all about the day that I realized that I didn't actually love my tits and being a woman, but I loved my family and I knew that if I didn't have those things, if I didn't live as a woman, wearing heels, wearing makeup, wearing flattering outfits that I wouldn't have my family anymore.  And it may be wrong, but I loved my family enough to be the woman who merely wanted a dick and prostate that could be hidden from plain sight in order to keep my family.

It's not something I thought I had to share.

Many of you read the post when I talked about my mother finding the pamphlets and brochures about reassignment surgery.  Many of you read the post where I talked about the exorcism I endured.  You all saw the way I stopped talking about my desire to be both and my need to be what I'd been fighting my whole life, being a man.

It's not something I thought I had to share.

There are times when I still think of myself as "bi-gender" or what others are calling gender queer, is it because that's a more accurate description of who I am?  No.  It's because at this point I'm still filled with glass sticking out from skin, still so emotionally fragile and hurt and sensitive that I am still fighting my need to dress up in women's clothes (what to me would be considered "drag") and go to my parents's house and beg them to let me come back, to turn my back on everything and just continue living as I have been.  Hiding my books, ignoring my need, my desires, my dreams, my wants, my truth, in order to have my family, in order to not be homeless in order to know who I am, even if who I am is a lie.  This whole feeling like a man but seeing a woman is horrific for me.  I avoid the mirrors.  I don't brush my hair or my teeth in front of the mirror, because I don't like seeing a woman looking back at me.  That's not something I've ever told you.

It's not something I wanted to share.

But reading the comments and the questions on this thread I had to ask myself if I was remiss in not doing so. Can I let you in 75% and then hide 25% from you?  But is it fair to offer up all of me to people who are offering me nothing?  Not necessarily you all, but people on the thread.

My life is, for the most part, an open book.  I don't mind answering questions for those who are trying to get a general understanding of my life and the process I am undertaking, the transition I am going through.  I want people to understand, but at the same time I want them to understand that on here, in this blog on GR, on twitter and tumblr, I'm not going to give you 100% of me.  It's not fair to ask that of me and especially if you're not going to give me the same thing in return.  Realize that of the millions of thoughts that run through my head, the emotions I've dealt with, the memories I have, the interactions I've experienced, the childhood I grew up with, I may only share with you 2 of them and that's fine.  Don't ask me for something that you're not going to give and don't instantly go on the defensive if I feel as if you're attacking me because of you asking me something that most people already know.

There are different facets to me.  There are parts of me that I'm realizing are just reflections of my parents, my family.  There are echoes in my brain and my heart that aren't my voice, but their voices of condemnation and judgement.  There are things that I will share and things that you will never, ever know.  If there's ever a time when you want to ask me a question, however: "Vic you said this five months ago and now you're saying this, what gives?"  Realize that I'll answer, but also understand that I'm like Julia Roberts in "The Runaway Bride" after she met Richard Gere, except Richard Gere was my true self and in order to be "with" my true self I have to figure out how I really think about some things, what I really like and what I really don't, who I really am and how I really feel about that.  I'm growing and learning and living my truth and even though I've pretty much invited you all to go on this journey with me by having this blog, there are still some things that you will never know.

You can accept it or hit the unfollow button, it's that simple.  Not saying that I won't miss seeing your comments, but at this stage in my life I've had about all I can handle of people only supporting me if I fit into their idea of how I should live, of people who say: this is who you are and you can never change, or people who say: everyone who says they are like you have felt like this, you don't so you're not one of them.  Realize that b/c I didn't share it doesn't mean that I didn't feel it or think it.  It's just something that I didn't share with you.

And that's perfectly fine.

{HUGZ AND SQUEEZES AND FIST BUMPS}
-Vic

I'M BACK BITCHES!!!

So this isn't going to be a normal "Vic" post but I just wanted to let you all know that I am back from New Orleans.  Got here safely.  Had a ton of fun in New Orleans (there are people with photographic evidence to back that up-LOL), there was a few bad moments, but they were separate from GRL and totally connected just to me, but I was rescued by a Greyhound attendant (I'll blog about Dre' tomorrow) who is now one of my "boys."  There was only one very bad, horrible, heartbreaking moment at GRL when I was insulted by an author in front of everyone, but *shrugs* I found out that I have so many friends and now new sisters, mothers, brothers, to back me up that the sting from that hurt, that rejection, that insult and humiliation was almost completely erased.  Almost.

Anyway.  I'm back in Florida and already making plans to save up money for next year's GRL in Albuquerque, New Mexico, in October (18-21: Hard Rock Cafe Casino & Hotel).  I want ALL OF YOU to come so start saving up your money now!!  If you do $50 a month you'll have $600 saved up by October. Everyone can do atleast $50 a month right?  And you won't even NEED that much!  LOL.  Well unless you plan on shopping.....

Anyway, I'll blog tomorrow about GRL and post the pictures I took and some from others, tell you about Dre' from Greyhound, and even about getting my heart broken by an author I used to enjoy.

I did miss you guys, I miss my family from GRL now though. {sad face}

Here's a poem that TangledO from Goodreads sent to me.  It made me cry (but in a good way).  Enjoy!


"How to Make Love to a Trans Person"
by Gabe Moses

Forget the images you’ve learned to attach
To words like cock and clit,
Chest and breasts.
Break those words open
Like a paramedic cracking ribs
To pump blood through a failing heart.
Push your hands inside.
Get them messy.
Scratch new definitions on the bones.

Get rid of the old words altogether.
Make up new words.
Call it a click or a ditto.
Call it the sound he makes
When you brush your hand against it through his jeans,
When you can hear his heart knocking on the back of his teeth
And every cell in his body is breathing.
Make the arch of her back a language
Name the hollows of each of her vertebrae
When they catch pools of sweat
Like rainwater in a row of paper cups
Align your teeth with this alphabet of her spine
So every word is weighted with the salt of her.

When you peel layers of clothing from his skin
Do not act as though you are changing dressings on a trauma patient
Even though it’s highly likely that you are.
Do not ask if she’s “had the surgery.”
Do not tell him that the needlepoint bruises on his thighs look like they hurt
If you are being offered a body
That has already been laid upon an altar of surgical steel
A sacrifice to whatever gods govern bodies
That come with some assembly required
Whatever you do,
Do not say that the carefully sculpted landscape
Bordered by rocky ridges of scar tissue
Looks almost natural.

If she offers you breastbone
Aching to carve soft fruit from its branches
Though there may be more tissue in the lining of her bra
Than the flesh that rises to meet it
Let her ripen in your hands.
Imagine if she’d lost those swells to cancer,
Diabetes,
A car accident instead of an accident of genetics
Would you think of her as less a woman then?
Then think of her as no less one now.

If he offers you a thumb-sized sprout of muscle
Reaching toward you when you kiss him
Like it wants to go deep enough inside you
To scratch his name on the bottom of your heart
Hold it as if it can-
In your hand, in your mouth
Inside the nest of your pelvic bones.
Though his skin may hardly do more than brush yours,
You will feel him deeper than you think.

Realize that bodies are only a fraction of who we are
They’re just oddly-shaped vessels for hearts
And honestly, they can barely contain us
We strain at their seams with every breath we take
We are all pulse and sweat,
Tissue and nerve ending
We are programmed to grope and fumble until we get it right.
Bodies have been learning each other forever.
It’s what bodies do.
They are grab bags of parts
And half the fun is figuring out
All the different ways we can fit them together;
All the different uses for hipbones and hands,
Tongues and teeth;
All the ways to car-crash our bodies beautiful.
But we could never forget how to use our hearts
Even if we tried.
That’s the important part.
Don’t worry about the bodies.
They’ve got this. 

My Exorcism Last Night

I am in tears as I write this but man do I need to write it.

So yesterday was my little sister's birthday.  I was really surprised when I got an invitation to come to my parent's place for cake and ice cream but not so surprised that I was hesitant to go.  They have been telling people that I'm staying with "a friend" until all of the issues with my other friend that was raped has been dealt with.

Utter bullshit of course, but sometimes I let people live in their delusions.

So when I got the invitation (sent to my email-I wasn't even called), I called Jack at work and told him that I was heading over there for the party.

Jack: You sure they're not going to try and kidnap you and sent you to one of those camps to make you straight?
Me: (laughing) No, then they'd be making it known to others that there was something wrong with a member of their family, if anything they'll try to exorcise me.
Jack: Exercise you?  What like put you on the treadmill or something?
Me: (rolling eyes) Ex OR cise Jackson!!  Like calling for an exorcist and shit.  Try to cast the demon out of me.
Jack: The demon of homosexuality?
Me: Homosexuality, transgenderism...you know, the things that make me an abomination to God.
Jack: (pause) Transgenderism?  I'm pretty sure that's not a word.
Me: It totally is.
Jack: (chuckles) Baby, you're a writer you can't be making up words.
Me: Sweetcheeks, I'm a writer so I CAN make up words!

We laughed and talked a bit more and he told me to call him if I needed him.  But it was cake and ice cream so I didn't think that I'd need him.  I mean, it's a party right?

I was wrong.

When I showed up there were a lot of cars, I walked in and everyone sort of smiled at me and said hi.  Not too strange, but I suddenly had the feeling that I was walking into the middle of like a cult or something or you know like an ambush.  Which is exactly what it was.  I was sitting on the couch telling everyone that I was okay and that my friend was doing better and yes, as a matter of fact I am dating the policeman that I was seen with on Saturday (and what are they doing, stalking me now?) when my grandmother reached out and traced the sign of the cross on my forehead with oil.

Vegetable oil.  I didn't know if they were about to exorcise me or cook me.

I had a hand pressed against my forehead and then hands holding down my arms and legs (they were expecting me to thrash around with the demon inside of me) as everyone in the room prayed.

I seriously thought about pretending like I had a demon but then I realized that I'd be confirming what they already think, that I'm an abomination because of who I am and who I choose to love.  Not cool.  So I just lay there and did nothing.  I actually dozed off at one point.

Apparently my dozing was a sign that the spirit had left my body because I was finally at peace with my spirit.

*cough* Bullshit! *cough*

Anyway, when it was over they sat me up and asked me how I felt.  I told them that I was tired, because by that point I was.  Tired of their ignorance, tired of feeling like something is wrong with me.  Tired of feeling like I'm inferior to them for a lot of different reasons.  Whether because I'm not as skinny as the rest of them or because my skin is darker or because I'm not pretty like they think I should be, my being a transgender/bigender homosexual was just the icing on the proverbial "Vee is a fuck up" cake that is my life.  It wasn't enough that they ignored the times I was assaulted or violated or abused and then later on told me that I asked for it or that that was something for me "and God" to deal with and work out, I mean it took me some time to forgive them for that bullshit, but this time?  This time they went too far and this time I was so tired that I didn't talk except to tell them that I was tired.

So they let me get up and I just told them I was leaving and I walked out the door and drove to the store down the road.  I pulled in the parking lot and called Jack.  He and his work partner showed up and Jack drove me back to his place.  I didn't talk, I mean what could I say?  But when we pulled up in front of his house he looked at me and said, "I am going to hate like hell having to say goodbye to you, but I see now that you have to do it.  No one should have to endure that.  I didn't know it was that bad."

I did.

But honestly, I'm glad that this is happening now.  I told Thorny yesterday that even though I hate that I denied my true self for so long, I'm glad that I didn't "come out" when I was a teenager because it could have been so much worse for me.  I would have been kicked out and disowned, homeless....and you know I was homeless for three months before and it was horrible and I never want to be that way again, but having to be homeless as a teenager?  That would have been even worse.

So I am now a 27 year old (almost 28-November 16th is my b-day) disowned "orphan" I guess, no parents, no siblings, no family...  And even though it sucks to know that I pretty much don't have a family or even really a home, although I know I can stay with Jack as long as I need to (he's offered), I feel so...free.  There was this weight on me that I didn't even realize was there but now it's been lifted and I feel so much better.  So free.

So me.

So they exorcised me in an attempt to get rid of the "demon of homosexuality" but what they did was exorcised themselves from my life and they took their insulting, demeaning, heartbreaking, ignorant influences with them.

And now I'm looking ahead. Looking for a cheap studio apartment or roommates in Boston (which is where I've wanted to live since I was 6), looking for a steady source of income, writing my books and getting them published, looking forward to going to New Orleans for the GRL retreat and as Thorny told me to do: "going after LOGO", because they're going to hire me one day and they're going to produce my movies and then one day when I'm finally living as a man, completely and fully in truth, and I have a partner and our children are running around our beautiful house and I'm successful and happy, I'm going to look back and remember with a sort of fond indulgence the night that my biological family tried to exorcise me.

And then I'm going to laugh.


{HUGZ AND SQUEEZES AND FIST BUMPS}

V. Vee