saturday morning update

it's been quite a week for me. being off of t has proven to be difficult - i'm so damn moody. i don't know how women do it, or how i used to get by, but props to the ladies. i feel so much more stable and me when i'm on testosterone. luckily i'll be able to resume injections after surgery - i'm hoping the day of or day after.

a friend and i were talking earlier this about about how she was explaining my trans-identity to one of our friends from Africa. she was explaining to him that i changed my name and i think he had a hard time understanding that i would change my name. where he's from changing his name essentially would be disrespecting his mother, family and possibly his culture. i think she said she was trying to tell him to think about if he knew something about himself was completely off. for me this was an intriguing conversation because i went to school with many international students from many different cultures. this made me think about how a trans identity is perceived in different cultures and if it even exists in some. i would love to do some type of research project on how trans identities are perceived outside of the american perspective.

and lastly i told my dad about surgery. i was nervous to begin with because i knew he'd be skeptical.....so this is how it went:
me: i'm having reconstructive chest surgery
dad: huh?
me: i'm getting surgery on my chest to make it more masculine.
dad: why would you do that?
me: there's no need for sarcasm here.
dad: you don't need surgery, your chest is fine.
me: i want to feel comfortable in my body.
dad: it's going to hurt.
me: i know, it's worth it.
dad: how did you pay for this.
me: loans.
dad: you'll be poor, i want you to live comfortably. maybe you should rethink this.
me: everything is already paid for. i'm already poor.
dad: the risk of getting an infection is really high. you could die.

....i feel like he didn't even hear me. i guess what really hurt is when he asked why i would even get surgery. i know that somewhere my father accepts me, but understanding seems to be a whole other realm. of course i want people to accept me, but i also want them, even if it's just in the slightest way, to understand me and this part of my identity. things feel mighty lonely when you feel like no one understanding you. it also hurts because i really look up to my father, he's always been my hero, but here he was just kind of a dickhead. i know in some ways he's looking out for me and trying to be a parent. however, the way he went about it just did not feel loving in any way, shape or form. my mother and him seem to be changing places. i actually cried (just a tiny bit) after we spoke - first time since probably last spring - and it felt good to just get it out. it's weird to think i haven't cried in that long, but i definitely feel "man-enough" (ha) to cry once in a while.

peace,
luke