A few weeks ago, I thought about ending this blog. I wouldn't have taken it down; I just thought I'd post only sporadically. After all, I thought, five years is a good run for a blog. Also, Transwoman Times' five-year anniversary marked four years since my surgery. I thought there just wouldn't be much more to say.
Well, if you've been following this blog, you can see that, if anything, my posts have become more frequent lately. Of course, I felt the need to write about some issues--such as the abusive relationship in which I was involved--that I hadn't mentioned earlier in this blog's history. Also, as you can imagine, my perspective about some things related to my transition and surgery has changed a bit over time.
But I now realize there is one more important reason to continue this blog: More people, including those who are contemplating or embarking upon the transition I've made, as well as the general public, want and need to read our stories, which are more diverse than even I realize.
I was reminded of that last fact in reading about a screening of the documentary film "Trans" in Duluth, Minnesota.
Now, about the closest I've come to Duluth is walking down Avenue Duluth in Montreal. But, from what I've read and heard about it, I'd imagine that it's more difficult for someone who's been labelled a boy at birth to known what to do when she feels otherwise (or for someone designated a girl who realizes he's a boy) to find the treatment, care and support he or she needs than it is in, say, the Twin Cities-- where Nathalie Crowley went.
Even more to the point, though, a trans person--not to mention someone who isn't trans--probably grows up hearing a certain narrative of how trans people come to realize their identity and what they want. Such a person probably does not realize that our stories and yearnings are more diverse than that.
To be fair, I grew up with, possibly, an even narrower view of who trans people are and what we want than the people who will attend the screening at Teatro Zuccone in Duluth. After all, I--like nearly everyone else I knew in Brooklyn and New Jersey during the 1960's and 1970's--had heard of only two transsexuals: Christine Jorgensen and Renee Richards. (I read both of their biographies in the public library: I wouldn't have dared to take out either of their histories!) Having such a history is, of course, all the more reason for me--and other trans people--to continue telling our stories.
N.B.: I am going to continue to write about the abusive relationship in which I was involved, and its aftermath. I just found this, and a couple of other interesting topics, since my most recent post about that relationship. Besides, as you can imagine, it's emotionally diffficult to write about that relationship, and about him!
Well, if you've been following this blog, you can see that, if anything, my posts have become more frequent lately. Of course, I felt the need to write about some issues--such as the abusive relationship in which I was involved--that I hadn't mentioned earlier in this blog's history. Also, as you can imagine, my perspective about some things related to my transition and surgery has changed a bit over time.
But I now realize there is one more important reason to continue this blog: More people, including those who are contemplating or embarking upon the transition I've made, as well as the general public, want and need to read our stories, which are more diverse than even I realize.
I was reminded of that last fact in reading about a screening of the documentary film "Trans" in Duluth, Minnesota.
Now, about the closest I've come to Duluth is walking down Avenue Duluth in Montreal. But, from what I've read and heard about it, I'd imagine that it's more difficult for someone who's been labelled a boy at birth to known what to do when she feels otherwise (or for someone designated a girl who realizes he's a boy) to find the treatment, care and support he or she needs than it is in, say, the Twin Cities-- where Nathalie Crowley went.
Even more to the point, though, a trans person--not to mention someone who isn't trans--probably grows up hearing a certain narrative of how trans people come to realize their identity and what they want. Such a person probably does not realize that our stories and yearnings are more diverse than that.
To be fair, I grew up with, possibly, an even narrower view of who trans people are and what we want than the people who will attend the screening at Teatro Zuccone in Duluth. After all, I--like nearly everyone else I knew in Brooklyn and New Jersey during the 1960's and 1970's--had heard of only two transsexuals: Christine Jorgensen and Renee Richards. (I read both of their biographies in the public library: I wouldn't have dared to take out either of their histories!) Having such a history is, of course, all the more reason for me--and other trans people--to continue telling our stories.
N.B.: I am going to continue to write about the abusive relationship in which I was involved, and its aftermath. I just found this, and a couple of other interesting topics, since my most recent post about that relationship. Besides, as you can imagine, it's emotionally diffficult to write about that relationship, and about him!
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