I’ve had a very, very busy weekend of it. I dropped in on Trans-family last Thursday as part of my liaison function. I have nothing to report from that, except that is was one of those evening where the female-to-male contingent seemed to outnumber the male-to-female contingent. A number of people made the long trip from Bowling Green just to make the connection.

I’m going to make an exception to my blackout on discussion of my temple. First, I was touched that a friend passed on to me a lovely necklace from an earlier time in her life, before her lover and partner passed. Second, our services that week were based around the holiday of Shivuot, the giving of the Ten Commandments. As is customary, one service a month is lay lead. BL, our service leader this week is very outspoken, very out, very funny, very butch and very dear. She spoke of a period in her life where she was angered by the whole idea of transsexual surgery. Why should God allow such a thing and not allow her to fix some very difficult problems with her body. Reflection on the Commandment “Thou shalt not covet thy neighbor’s ……” changed her mind and heart. I was personally touched that she said this while sitting next to her close friend who did have SRS.

I think this also bears on the problems of covering that I write about elsewhere, the general repression of people that leads to reaction, rejection, envy, covetousness and false claims of “special rights” by a large majority of people whose own lives and personal expression are suppressed.

Saturday night I was invited along to a benefit reading of local writers and poets presented at the Cleveland Playhouse. I learned something interesting. One of the selections was from a book we had read in my book circle. I remembered the selection well, it being one of the more dramatic sections of the book. What I realized was that despite how I noticed that section, the narrative voice in my head was flat compared to the vivid reading given on stage. It’s something to think about, slowing down when reading and giving full voice to the author. Walking with my friends to the reception afterwards, I had a chance to finally meet Plain Dealer Fashion columnist Kim Crow. I had initiated correspondence with her after she wrote a column on local drag pageants, and I’ve suggested that someday a make-over for someone in the T* communities might be a good feature. We both enjoyed being able to put a face to a name. Kim’s picture in the paper has her with Goth black hair, while she is presently, fashionably, blond. The piece of hers that was read was a very funny column about having wide calves and finding good looking boots that fit. As someone with other footwear issues I felt her pain. I didn’t get a chance to talk to Michael Heaton who I’ve also exchanged email with.

For those of you wondering about whether I “pass” in such a gathering, the answer is no. I was in heels, and wearing scarlet and black, and certainly stood out in the crowd as well as head and shoulders above it. But I was not bothered and I could talk to my friends and meet authors without a problem. I’ve made this point before, but not recently so it bears repeating- being engaged in the activities, in the context of the situation removes a lot of issues that we fear.

Afterwards we stopped a local nightspot where a band I like was playing and met another friend there. This turned out to afford me an opportunity to “come out” to a couple with whom I’d been “passing unseen” for some time (6 years or so). Again the issues seem to be first the assumption that I’ve transitioned or am transition tracked and second the assumption that Z and I must be separated. Getting past those is getting quicker and easier with practice. What also made things easier this time is that they knew one of the people with the group in the same context, and by being with her, some normalcy was presumed. I didn’t get to sleep till 3AM. And all this without going to one of those bars. One interesting conversation took place including the husband of one of the women revolving around the difference between his experience in being accepted as guy in essentially women’s space…it didn’t work, and mine, being accepted as whatever, which does.

But I had to be up early the next day as I’d volunteered to help the friend who invited me the night before with a benefit. Because there was a fashion show involved I took the opportunity to wear one of the saris I had just bought in India, especially since a sari is one of the few things I can wear and actually feel well dressed in. My assignment was to be companion for a woman who had opened her nearby and wonderfully decorated loft for viewing. It was felt that she shouldn’t be alone with people coming and going. I met the woman at the fashion show, accompanied her on a little shopping before returning to her apartment and by the end of my stint had made a new friend. And another friend with whom I’d been passing unseen dropped by the apartment. Since this person also shared the context with the people from the night before I came out to her as well. The conversation rapidly turned to simply catching up on each other’s lives.

Afterwards there were some dramatic readings of journals at a nearby bookstore. I found the readings moving and the political context appropriate for me.

I guess I’d summarize all this as saying that I continue to find growth and fulfillment in engaging some small part of the life I might have had, had I been born female. This has not been a rapid process, nor without mis-steps or pain or risk. It is most certainly not something I’d recommend for everyone. But my choices continue to enrich my life, our lives, and I hope that sharing this serves one of two purposes: If you a person dealing with issues of gender identity or expression, perhaps my experience of a middle-way may offer you ideas for possibilities to enrich your own life. If you are a person trying to learn about people like us, I hope my writing broadens your ideas about what is possible, especially beyond the tawdry and the sensational.