Sturdy Vehicle, Wrong Model

I’m a rare overcomer in the transgender community, but it has been a semi-regular battle all these years to divert my focus away from what’s missing (I’m  a man in a woman’s body) and what’s added that keeps the general public insisting that I’m a woman based on flappy front appendages that I have hated since the day they showed up.

 

It’s as infuriating to me as it would be to a man who was born and grew up with a penis and then had it removed. That is, it would be, fast, if I sat here and meditated on the matter for very long. Thank God I’m not chronically self-absorbed or I would probably have been dead years ago.

 

 

I do my best to thank my body at least once a month (especially when I sense I’m heading for a pity party over my physicality) for being strong, healthy, resilient and an excellent vehicle. I mean, really: I couldn’t ask for a better vehicle, even as badly as I’ve abused it with the wrong kinds of food and far too much sugar. It has served me well, except for–well, except for the following!

 

I’ll never have the intimate physical relationship that my mind and soul seek. This fact alone would kill a great many people, I think. People are social, sexual mammals. I’m not asexual (as my little sister suspected for many years, and probably still prefers to believe).  I’m a frustrated incel (involuntary celibate), but without the hatred for women and without the all-consuming, single-minded focus on intimate sexual release that those lunatics possess!

 

I don’t think cisgender folks have any idea how hard it is to feel trapped in a body that doesn’t belong to us in the way our minds believe–to the core of our being–they should. My body doesn’t reflect who I am!!! It’s like I opened this special gift to find something that should belong to my sister instead of to me: it just doesn’t reflect who I am, nor can it deliver what I desire in an intimate relationship. It sucks!

As a kid, it was bad enough. As an adult, it’s worse!

 

I’m not–never have been– a lesbian (and God bless lesbians!). I’m a heterosexual man who’s attracted to the female form … when I’m attracted at all, that is: I can’t dwell on it without driving myself crazy, because I simply can’t succeed in the way I want; even winning a woman in my present form would frustrate me!

 

The men I’ve admired and loved throughout my life were role models to me, not potential or imagined mates, which is probably something the Kelleys knew about me instinctively (even as much as I “lusted” on stage for McCoy during my comedy routine “Husband Hunting on the Enterprise”–I was playing the role assigned to me by society, folks!–or Carolyn would never have let me get that close to “her man”).  Mom and Dad never understood that; they were mortified that I would write comedy routines that might drive the Kelleys away…and their reactions scared me so badly that I wrote to the Kelleys and apologized in case they didn’t think the routines were as funny as I did when I wrote them. Fortunately, they did and encouraged me to present them. (Both routines are in my book DeForest Kelley Up Close and Personal: A Harvest of Memories from the Fan Who Knew Him Best, although I must confess that the one I wrote about my first dinner with the Kelleys in Denver was absolutely true; I experienced every fear and thought in it. It’s the first part of the chapter “Happy Birthday to Me” if you want to look it up.)

The Me I’ve Always Been to Myself!

Images by Lisa Twining Taylor, Dancing Goat Web Solutions

 

So I’m sitting here this morning thinking these thoughts and decided I should share them with you. I think the more people who hear and read what being transgender is like, the more likely it will be that they’ll be able to understand why it just isn’t as easy as turning a switch and telling oneself, “You’re a girl, not  a boy. Get over it!” (or vice versa).

 

Unless you’re transgender, it might be a concept too confusing or cloudy to consider…but I have to keep trying to get it across because people are being killed just for being transgender, and that’s nuts!!! Transgender people are facing a great battle; the least you can do is figure out what drives them to want to become who they feel they truly are, instead of what you see of them on the outside.

 

When you’re dealing with me, you’re dealing with a male mind. If you’ll acknowledge that and treat and address me that way, my life will be happier and more fulfilling.

 

You can do that, can’t you?  Try to remember.

 

My pronouns are he, him, his, man, dude, brother, uncle.

 

I dress like a guy!  My hair is short. But all you seem to see are my tits!!!  Is that fair to me?

 

I know it’s uncomfortable. People might think you’re nuts. But I won’t!  I’ll think you’re nice, and brave, and thoughtful, and considerate, and respectful.

 

Thanks!