If And When Heroes Meet

I'm not the only one who thinks this semester and winter have been long. "We're only four weeks into the semester, but it feels like ages," another prof told me.

At least the sun shone today. Still, profs and students alike looked tired. I don't think I'm projecting, as I felt pretty energetic. I can't believe that Spring Recess will start in about three and a half weeks. Mom and Dad are still talking about coming up this way from Florida, if Mom's foot heals sufficiently. And Marilynne and her daughter have also talked about coming to town. It makes me wonder what it would be like if they all met. What would the parents of transgender kids talk about? Or would they?

Marilynne and her husband have called their daughter and me "heroes" for...well, being who we are and going through our transitions. I'll admit to feeling flattered--at the same time I feel a little bit humbled. In some ways, the transition and surgery were the easy parts of my life. Yes, they took a lot of work and commitment, and I had to give up some things and people, including a relationship with someone with whom I anticipated spending the rest of my life, as well as relationships I once had with certain members of my family. Still, they weren't nearly as difficult, at least emotionally and spiritually, as what I lived through before I left those things and started to build my current life. Or, at least, I could find some reward for myself and not merely approval, or the appearance thereof, from other people.

As far as I am concerned, the "heroes" are my mother, Marilynne and any other parent who supports her or his kid in any way when the kid does what he or she needs to do. So are other family members and friends who stand with someone who's living the life he or she needs to live. So Millie and Bruce would be included in my pantheon.

I wonder what it would like for all of these heroes to meet. Somehow I suspect that I would be more in awe than any of them would be. One thing I've learned is that people look up to you when you don't know they're doing it. And sometimes they look to you for strength and other resources you didn't know you had.

Fission

"Gunnar Berg" didn't wish me me good luck. Instead, he advised me to be strong. I am happy for that: It's a lot more satisfying to achieve by being strong, or simply working hard and from the bottom of your heart, than it is to have things fall in the right places.

What's odd is that lately I've felt strong: strong enough, in fact, to take on new projects, reach out to new and old acquaintances and to extricate myself from a relationship that, really, has had almost no reason to be for some time.

And now Michelle, a former student of mine, is exhorting me to be strong and not to go back. "You don't need a man to be complete," she said. "No woman does. A girl, yes. But not a woman. And that's what you are."

Michelle knows whence she speaks. And I was so happy to see her again.

The relationship from which I've liberated myself is the one I had with Dominick. Now, I'm not going to "trash" him in this post, or anywhere. I didn't suddenly realize that he's a terrible person or find out some dim, dark secret of his. Rather--as cold as this sounds--I no longer have a need he once filled, at least partially. As a result, I have had to acknowledge something I knew intuitively: We don't have much in common.

Furthermore, I feel that each of us needs to move forward in our lives. In doing so, each of us will be going in different directions and, as a result, will most likely have very different journeys in front of us.

Actually, I knew that a while ago--from when I first knew him, really. So why did I continue with him?

Well...Now I'm about to reveal my shallow side. Here goes: He's a very good-looking man, and he was at least reasonably good to me most of the time. When I was still forming my identity as Justine, as a woman, I felt at least somewhat more affirmed as such by his presence.

What I didn't realize at the time was that, in a way, he was looking for the same thing I sought: stability. I was, as you can imagine, going through a lot of change and even some upheaval. And he was trying to figure out a few things about his life--while living in a dysfunctional environment.

I haven't seen him since about a month before my surgery. The truth is, I haven't wanted to. As you know, whether or not you've been reading this blog, I had to focus so much on myself--first the preparation for my surgery, then my recovery and other aftereffects--that I didn't have the energy or time (or, after the surgery, enough waking hours) to deal with much else. And, frankly, there wasn't much he could have done.

I realized this during the time I spent in Colorado. (Something about the mountain air, right?) There was so much he could not understand about what I was going through, much less what I had gone through. I knew that, in part, because I spent my time out there with people who understood perfectly. Dominick could and would spend time with me, but he never could understand exactly how vulnerable I am or why I'm that way.

Again, I do not mean to disparage him. This sort of thing happens sometimes in relationships of any sort: What he could give me, I no longer need. And he can't give me what I need or want now, mainly because we lost what (as it turns out, little) common ground we had.

I'm not nearly as upset about this as I might have expected to be. In fact, I'm feeling stronger, knowing what--or more precisely, why.

Thank you, "Gunnar." And you, too, Michelle.