Cassandra's Tale - The Making of a Brave New Girl

[SassyCassie]

Sep 29 2017, 11.50pm
Last night, I came home, exhausted, to a very pleasant surprise.
My (favorite) cousin Stephanie had found me on Facebook and sent me a friend request.

She said, "I love you and no matter what, you're still my cousin!"

That melted my heart!



Oct 01 2017, 07.57am
I saw this quote from Jan Morris' autobiography and it just seemed to resonate with me.
I had to put it in here.

"To me gender is not physical at all, but is altogether insubstantial. It is soul, perhaps, it is talent, it is taste, it is environment, it is how one feels, it is light and shade, it is inner music, it is a spring in one's step or an exchange of glances, it is more truly life and love than any combination of genitals, ovaries, and hormones. It is the essentialness of oneself, the psyche, the fragment of unity."



Oct 07 2017, 07.42am
"Guy stuff"
One thing I realized recently which comes as some relief, is that now that I'm living full-time as me, I don't have to worry about a lot of the "guy stuff" that I still after all these years didn't get. Well, I guess there were some things that I just couldn't convincingly emulate - probably due to the dysphoria-induced discomfort with those things. Understandably so, since they both revolve around the male genitalia and tie in with the natural tendency guys have for boasting about various things, one thing I was never very good at so I did it as little as possible.

You probably can guess where this is going.

That's right - first and foremost of course, is the size of ones genitalia. Second, is the quality of performance and frequency of use thereof.

I'm trying to write into this as much of a sense of clinical detachment as I can in order to illustrate just how much of an alien concept it all has been over the years. This is one of the many seemingly little things that made me wonder if I was even the same species as these people I was observing.

To be fair, I may be stereotyping a little here, but we all know or have met at least one guy who does this sort of thing.

Now, at this point in my life, I'm finding a small sense of relief that I won't have to untangle these last few things in order to integrate them into the facade i was presenting to the world. Less work for me and less emotional discomfort during the moments when I know I've just "gotten something wrong" with that facade.

[SassyCassie]

September 11, 2017
Author's note: This post is one I apparently only posted to Facebook and didn't put in my journal. It's a very important one.

Out of all the tension and worry this week as the storm approached the State of Florida, I have to say that the whole thing had some positive impact on my life. The storm is still in full swing around us, so the total impact remains to be seen.

However, here's how things have gone:

With all the progress I've made in my transition over the last several months, there is one more piece of the puzzle that hasn't yet been put into place. That piece involves my family. For a number of reasons, I haven't talked to any of them in over 3 years. I certainly haven't told any of them about what has happened more recently, though I have wondered what their reaction might be. I of course assumed the worst, but have been afraid to find out for sure.

Well, back when hurricane Matthew came through, the thought had occurred to me that maybe I should contact my mother who lives along the east coast of Florida, and offer her refuge at my house (further inland) if she needed a place to go. Well, I didn't back then, out of fear of ....a lot of different things. When Irma started becoming a threat, I started thinking about her again. This time, after conferring with a dear friend, I decided to take that step, consequences be damned. I hadn't planned on having any contact for at least another year, but the impending storm forced my hand.

I texted my mom and asked if she had anywhere safe to go or was planning to shelter in place. She replied that she was sheltering in place at home. I made the offer anyway and we started chatting. Before long, she sent a greeting in the form of a selfie. After a few minutes of agonizing internal debate, I sent her one back.

At first, she thought it was a picture of my wife, but I told her no. I told her that it was me and that my name is Cassandra now. I said that a lot has happened since we last talked and I have some explaining to do and I hoped she would give me the opportunity to do so. After several tense minutes - long enough for me to pour myself a big glass of wine, she replied back with an okay. We got on the phone shortly thereafter and I proceeded to pour my heart out over the next 90 minutes.

I did the best I could to help her understand why I chose this path in life and I guess I did a fair job of it. During the course of our conversation, I asked her to address me as Cassandra and refer to me in the terms of 'she' and 'her'. She seemed to accept that and made an effort to correct herself when she got it wrong. When she told me she honestly had had no idea it was me in the picture, I said, "You have no idea how happy that makes me to hear that." She also said that I looked cute in the picture.

Just before we rung off, we exchanged I love you's, and I realized that for the first time in my life, I actually meant it. Afterward, I cried tears of joy and relief for almost 15 minutes.

With any luck, this conversation was a first step toward closing the rift between us and with the rest of my family. I can't say what the future holds, but it's looking just a little bit brighter.
[/i]

[LJH24]

Thank you so much for sharing your story.  I've spent the better part of the afternoon reading through this thread and now I'm crying. You've gone through so much and should be proud of how far you've come.  I love the selfie at the end - you look beautiful AND happy. <3

[KathyLauren]

With any luck, this conversation was a first step toward closing the rift between us and with the rest of my family. I can't say what the future holds, but it's looking just a little bit brighter.

I have been enjoying reading your thread, but this post in particular has given me the sniffles.  It makes me so happy to read this!

[SassyCassie]

Thank you so much for sharing your story.  I've spent the better part of the afternoon reading through this thread and now I'm crying. You've gone through so much and should be proud of how far you've come.  I love the selfie at the end - you look beautiful AND happy. <3

Thank you! Honestly, never in a thousand years did I think I'd be able to do this back in the beginning but that has turned right around. It wasn't a free ride to get there though. It took work but I decided that this new person is totally worth it!

[SassyCassie]

Oct 15 2017, 08.30pm
That old dysphoria has me in its spell...
That old dysphoria makes my life a hell...

This past week, I had my first experience getting electrolysis done on my face. I've had laser done on it over the last several months, but that only works on dark hairs. Gray and white hairs have to be removed the old-school way - by inserting a conductive probe down into each follicle and passing an electric charge through it, killing, or at least, critically wounding the hair follicle.

The only catch to that is that one has to let the hairs grow for a few days prior to the treatment so that they are long enough to be gripped by tweezers. Since beginning my transition, I've kept everything shaved, most particularly my face. Now, having to let the hairs grow for each treatment, I can feel them there when I touch my face and see them every time I look in the mirror. I imagined there might be some discomfort with that but didn't think it would be so bad.

I was so wrong about that and wholly unprepared for the reaction. I had stopped shaving on Thursday and by Saturday, the dysphoria had hit me like a ton of bricks. There was an event I really wanted to go to that night, but I couldn't bring myself to even go outside, let alone to a big social event. I had a bunch of errands I wanted to run as well but ended up just being a shut-in that entire day. On top of all that, I was an emotional wreck. I cried my eyes out at one point, feeling so handicapped by this major flare-up of dysphoria. I had no idea how I could possibly survive basically having to do this every weekend for the foreseeable future until all that hair is finally gone. That old voice was back in my mind whispering, "I can't do this. I should just call it off and resign myself to shaving every day." In my heart though, I knew that wasn't the right choice and would only make things worse.

Thinking back on that day, I can laugh about it now. I was in the middle of emptying the dishwasher when it all came crashing down on me and I started to tear up. Shortly afterward, I was in full-blown racking sobs. I still kept doing the dishes though - each sob punctuated by the clank of a dish or the clink of silverware being put away. I do remember wondering briefly if salt water would damage the surface of any of my dishes.

This story has a happy ending though. By Sunday, I had had enough and decided I was going out to run my errands and to hell with anybody who happened to notice the white hairs sprouting from my neck and chin. My, "Screw it, I've gotta do this" attitude had reasserted herself and everything was back to normal. I picked myself up, got dressed, put on some eyeliner, threatened my hair with a curling iron and walked out the door in my comfiest pair of flats. I must say, I did wonder if I would repeat this pattern again the following week or if it was one of those walls I just had to break through and then I'd be fine.

Well, this weekend, I've been out a-plenty! I went to a birthday party in a jam-packed brew-pub on Friday night,
marched in the Orlando Pride parade on Saturday, and am going out for breakfast and shopping today, all in spite of the white stubble.

Based on that, I'm happy to say that it was just another wall that now lays behind me in a pile of dust, ready to be forgotten.


Author's note: The bartender at the brewpub to whom I gave my credit card to open a tab (still in my assigned, legal name) was so sweet. He looked at the name on the card and gave me a friendly smile and said, "I'll put this in under your last name".

[SassyCassie]

Author's note: These are more posts that went to Facebook but didn't make it to my journal, so the dates are a little out of order with the rest of what I've posted here. Still, they're very important to the story.

September 5, 2017
The Final Purge.
One common theme in a trans woman's life is the "wardrobe purge". It's usually a time filled with a mixture of sadness and shame. It's when one throws out or packs away all of one's female clothing while thinking things like, "I shouldn't be doing this anymore" or "This isn't right" or something else along those lines. It's a time when the woman inside, trying to come out, is instead once again shoved back inside her prison cell and the door is slammed shut.

For those of us who transition later in life, we can often count multiple purges such as this. I can personally recall at least three during my own personal journey. It makes me a bit melancholy to think about those times but I more than made up for it today.

Before being "out" at work, I used to complain, to the air, to a sympathetic cat ear, or whomever that it's
time to again put on my "boy clothes" as I've come to call them, before slouching off to work.

The bag I'm holding in the picture is full of all my "boy clothes", and as you can see in the background, they are about to begin their own journey. They are no longer a part of my life.

This is one of my happy times.
This is one of my milestones.
This is my final purge.


October 8, 2017
A brief outing.

I don't remember if I've told this story here before, but some of my friends have heard it. I though I'd share with the rest of the class before I head to bed.

Back when I started with my laser hair removal, I had gotten in the habit of just taking the entire day off - mainly so I didn't have to show up to work all puffy and red-faced from the treatments. By my second session, I had learned to prepare accordingly which meant taking Advil shortly before going under the laser to keep the swelling to a minimum and bringing all my makeup with me.

This particular day, after my session was complete and I had made myself reasonably presentable, I decided I was going to get a little more value out of my annual pass and ride some rides at Universal. Back then, I was not full-time (still my former self at work) but all of the people I was afraid might see me "out" were at work so the risk was minimal, but even so, I didn't advertise the fact of what I was doing that day.

I rode the Incredible Hulk (which sounds SO wrong, when taken out of context!), mainly to see if after the work they had done on it, it still gave me a headache. It does. I'm in front of it in this picture:

Afterward, I rode the Dueling Dragons which, much to my disappointment, no longer dueled since having been Potterfied. All of the walking in totally cute, but ill-fitting sandals had rubbed my skin raw in a few spots on my feet. At that time, I had not been told that a few band-aids in the purse were a girl's best friend. I debated going over to the Universal side of the park but decided my feet had been tortured enough for one day.

On the way out though, I realized that it was just after 5:00 and traffic is a nightmare in that part of town during rush hour. That was how I rationalized going over to Toothsome's for an early dinner and a drink or two. Many painful steps later, I plopped myself down at the bar on the next to the last stool. I was the only person seated there at the time. Shortly after I got my drink, a woman came in and sat right next to me. We struck up a conversation - just chitchat mainly about the park and other related things. It was what I had assumed to be the kind of light conversation women have with each other in such a setting. I was dressed as you see in the included picture and had introduced myself as Cassandra. Everything was going well. A little while later, a whole group of other women came in and occupied every one of the remaining bar stools and just started laughing and carrying on, having a fun time.

When I was ready to pay my tab and head home, I gave the bartender my annual pass so he could apply the discount. A few minutes later, a managerial-looking fellow came up, holding my annual pass. After looking up and down the bar and seeing only women lined up at the bar, he loudly stated, "I've got an annual pass here for {DEADNAME}". I hadn't had any of my legal documentation changed yet, so everything had that name on it. He repeated his statement, at which point, I sheepishly raised a hand and said, "That's me". Not a further word was said while I paid my tab. My conversation with the woman next to me had already more or less petered out when her food had arrived, so at least I didn't have that cut short. I just paid my check, said my goodbyes, and headed for the exit - via the ladies' room because it was going to be a long ride home.

I've seen and heard a few references to us being "outed" or "outing" ourselves but hadn't realized that that is exactly what happened that afternoon. I guess it happens sometimes when one gets backed into a corner, so to speak. Still, it didn't really bother me a whole lot back then. I was already prepared for negative reactions. Fortunately, there didn't seem to be one this time.

Aside from that moment, which I find more amusing than embarrassing, I had a terrific time that day and have had several other fun days like it after my laser treatments.

[SassyCassie]

Oct 18 2017, 08.36pm
A regret realized but already managed.
On Sunday, I practically tore my house apart, in an effort to find my birth certificate. Since my birthday is this Saturday, my drivers license is going to expire. Normally not a big deal, but this time, I have to actually show up at the DMV office with a mountain of paperwork just to prove that I exist. Key to that is having my birth certificate which, for the longest time, I kept in a very specific place and knew exactly where it was...until the last time I moved.

I did eventually find it and am now armed with the aforementioned mountain of paper, but not before running across a lot of other things. Most of what I came across were clothes in a closet I rarely looked in. In the process, I decided to do some cleaning as a lot of it were things I'm never going to wear again.

One of those things was a concert shirt from 20 years ago. It was from when I and some friends went and saw Faith and the Muse down in Fort Lauderdale.

When I thought back to that time, I remembered an idea that has been tumbling around in my subconscious for a while. An idea that during those years, I was very much into the goth scene here in Florida, and that it seemed to serve as something of an outlet for what I've found out was my real self crying to get out. That particular idea, I figured out several months ago. Seeing this shirt from back then sort of made something click in my mind. I realized that back then, I likely had been unknowingly on the edge of finally accepting the truth about myself.

Sadly, instead of making the choice that led me to finally start living a joyful life, I instead chose to shove everything back down into denial. Cassandra (though she didn't have a name at the time) was shoved back into her prison cell and the door was once again slammed shut.

That was twenty years ago.

Once this realization hit after looking at that shirt, I was (once again) an emotional wreck. I shoved it angrily into the bag with all of the other clothing I was planning to get rid of. After a few minutes, I dug it out just long enough to take a picture of it for this post.

I know that there's nothing I can do to change the past, but knowing what I know now that I could have had back then hit me pretty hard.



Author's note: This entry is another crosspost from Facebook which should have made it to my journal but didn't
Oct 21 2017, 11.16pm
A very special birthday.

The thought crossed my mind to say that today marks the 46th time I have spent circling the sun on this ball we call Earth. That's something that my former self may have said, if anything at all really. Today would have just been another way of marking time as it inexorably crawls along toward, who knows what.

Given the massive changes in my life that have happened over the last year, and the fact that I'm, for all intents and purposes, a completely different person. Earlier this week, a dear friend of mine gave me a birthday card, the full impact of which didn't hit me until a short while later:

This year is Cassandra's first birthday. My first birthday.

I'm finding it difficult to put into words all the emotions I'm still sorting through, but I just wanted to get this out there, in part as a way of saying "Thank you, from the bottom of my heart" to all of my friends who have sent me birthday wishes today. Today, over and above all these days I've had in the past, those wishes mean more to me than you could possibly know.

When one of my friends asked me yesterday what I had planned to do this weekend, I mentioned something about digging through some paperwork for the divorce. She just waved a hand at me and said, "No, don't do anything sad on your birthday. Go do something fun."

I'm going to take that advice to heart and I'm going to go do something fun! That is, once I'm done "getting all up in my feelings" as I've been told once or twice.

Again, thank you all for thinking of me today! I love you all and feel so blessed to have you along with me for this journey. I couldn't do this without you!


Oct 22 2017, 12.59pm
Theme Parking
Yesterday, I celebrated my birthday by going down to Universal to "ride some rides and drink some drinks" and, oh did I ever!

For those who have never been to this particular theme park, or may have never used an annual pass for entry, I'll give a little background as to how this transpired. They charge $20 for parking there, but the mid-level (Preferred, I think?) annual pass gets you free parking. The hitch to that is that they check your ID to see if it matches the name on the annual pass. Well, to a degree, I've gotten used to "outing" myself in this small way as a means to an end. My driver's license and annual pass still have my old name on them, you see.

When I got up to the booth and handed my pass to the grandmotherly Indian lady within , the inevitable request came for my ID. I passed that to her as well and she turned away momentarily to do the customary checks. She turned back to me, still looking down at my license with a puzzled expression on her face. When she raised her eyes to mine, she asked, "This is you?"

"Yes," I replied, "that was me seven years and a hundred pounds ago."

"Good job," she remarked. "Why haven't you had this changed?" Her tone was more bewildered than accusatory.

"Legal issues, but I have an attorney working on it," was all I said.

"Are you happier now?"

"Oh, a thousand times more!" I replied with the beginnings of a smile on my face.

She handed my cards back to me along with a receipt for parking and said, "You have a wonderful day today."

I smiled and thanked her as I pulled away from the ticket booth.

That brief exchange, while seeming a bit invasive from some perspectives, gave me a warm fuzzy feeling inside and helped set the tone for the rest of the day. I felt happy tears trying to well up as I navigated The Behemoth up the ramp to the parking structure.

It truly was a wonderful day!

Me eyeing the cherry from my Birthday Hurricane at Pat O'Brien's. Somehow, the stem got tied in a knot!

After my dinner and (too many!) Birthday Hurricanes, I wandered out to the main Citywalk area and heard music coming from the little amphitheater down by the water. I headed in that direction and sat down on an unoccupied section of bench to enjoy the music. I have no idea what band was playing, nor did it really matter but I liked what they were playing and most importantly just sitting there, being in the moment. For what seemed like the first time in my life, I was enjoying just being in that place at that time doing what I was doing and finally, truly just being myself.

[SassyCassie]

Nov 02 2017, 00.13am
I See You!
For a lot of trans folks, one of the more common dysphoria triggers is the all-too-common act of merely catching a glimpse of oneself in a mirror. Sometimes that's all it takes.

I can say that I had experienced this for a long time prior to coming out as transgender. I just wasn't aware of the exact cause. For years, I had no mirrors in my room. I just couldn't bear to look.

Even still, after starting my transition, I would get those feelings of despair sometimes, when I would look in the mirror and see "him" looking right back at me. At least by then, I could look him right in the eyes and tell him, "You're going away soon".

I had read some other peoples' accounts of mirror-gazing at different points during their transition and gradually seeing that other person less and less often, while their real self became more visible. In the past several weeks, I've come to realize just what they meant. I started seeing, not myself - not yet anyway, but a sort of in-between version - a "not-him", if you like.

This morning, however, was a bit different. I had been awake for half an hour or so when I went upstairs to start my morning routine, my brain not fully switched on yet, but I was operating on autopilot. As I pulled my hair back with my right hand, I looked in the mirror. That gave me pause. I wasn't looking at "not-him" this time. Instead, "She" was there, passively regarding me for a moment with her hair held back, then looking off to the side.

Suffice it to say, it was a moving experience that made my eyes well up. I feel like it was another one of those milestones that I just passed. Once I composed myself, I took the attached picture, while trying to replicate what I had seen in that mirror, in case I wanted to share the experience with friends.

It's late now, but I just wanted to get this down while it's still relatively fresh in my mind.

With that, I'm off to bed.

I wonder if I'll see her again tomorrow.

[SassyCassie]

Dec 07 2017, 07.45pm
The peaks are higher and the valleys are not as low.
This is how Steph so aptly puts it, in reference to how our emotions are, now that our brains are running on the right fuel.

Today, I traveled to {BFE} to attend my friend Stephanie's court hearing for her name change. There were eight of us in total going along with her. It was a cold, rainy morning - totally inappropriate for such a happy day but we have to accept what we cannot change.

When her name got called, we all filed into the court room and took our seats in the peanut gallery behind the table at which Steph had to sit by herself. The magistrate presiding over the court asked if we were all here for Steph's hearing. We all nodded enthusiastically.

After a few standard questions which she laughed and said, "Sorry, but they make me ask these", she signed off on the form and said that it would still have to go before the judge for his signature but it could be done today if the petitioner so desires. Stephanie just said, "Oh yes, please!". When we all walked out to the waiting area, there were many a moist eye on the ladies present, myself being no exception. I felt such joy for my friend that she had crossed this milestone which is one of the huge ones in a trans person's life. Admittedly, I felt a twinge of jealousy but I knew my time would come soon enough.

Afterward, we went over to a local diner for a celebratory breakfast, punctuated by a butter pecan cake with "Congratulations Stephanie" written on it. It was a good day to be alive, for sure!

On the way back to Stephanie's house, I rode along with "D" and her partner and we chatted about some trans issues. "D" had transitioned about 13 years ago and had a wealth of experience in that regard. Part of what we touched upon was the prospect of dating. She told me some of the horror stories about dressing and going to gay clubs simply because we were accepted there but it was generally what one would refer to as a "meat market". When I mentioned that I'm feeling like I'm leaning in the direction of being simply a heterosexual woman, she gave me dire warnings of what could happen if things go wrong. I said that I had gone to the ceremony at Valencia for the Trans Day of Rememberance, at which we had each been given a note card with a name and location on it of a trans person who had been murdered this year. I was well aware of the catastrophic end some of those lives had come to in the pursuit of happiness.

After we got back to Steph's house, we socialized a bit over tea and Steph gave me a tour of her hangar/workshop. It was there that I mentioned I had been thinking about going to the national cemetery where my dad is to introduce him to the daughter he never met before. That's a story for a followup post, I think.



Dec 7 2017, 04.42pm
Hi, Dad. It's me, your daughter Cassandra. I've missed you terribly.

I went to the national cemetery in Bushnell today, where my dad is interred. I haven't been out here since he passed in 2001. I thought it would be nice for him to meet his daughter for the first time.

The day was cloudy, rainy, and cold - the very definition of a gray day. It had taken me some time to locate the right spot. There were a lot more graves than I remember from the last time I was there. As I approached the wall, the quiet patter of the rain was punctuated by the 21-gun salute being fired in the distance - the perfect touch to this dreary afternoon. The tears were already falling as I found the niche where we had placed his ashes all those years ago. I didn't say much - I was so choked up that I couldn't.

What did come out was, "Hi Dad. I'm Cassandra. I'm your daughter and I so much wish you could have gotten to know me. I miss you terribly"

No selfies this time. I'm a bit of a wreck right now.

This is another one of those milestones that had not even occurred to me until this morning but I knew it was something I needed to do.

[LJH24]

Nov 02 2017, 00.13am


This morning, however, was a bit different. I had been awake for half an hour or so when I went upstairs to start my morning routine, my brain not fully switched on yet, but I was operating on autopilot. As I pulled my hair back with my right hand, I looked in the mirror. That gave me pause. I wasn't looking at "not-him" this time. Instead, "She" was there, passively regarding me for a moment with her hair held back, then looking off to the side.

This really got to me.  I'm so happy for you and I hope that "she" will be there for you all the time now.

[SassyCassie]

This really got to me.  I'm so happy for you and I hope that "she" will be there for you all the time now.

She's always there now and folks I meet are seeing only her as well.

This afternoon, while in the parking lot at work, I was approached by a friendly older lady who was looking for someone who worked here. I didn't recognize the name but suggested that we go and talk to our receptionist/gatekeeper because she knows *everybody*. As we walked up to her desk, she looked up at us and just automatically misgendered me but immediately corrected herself.

She said, "Yes Sir...Ma'am?"
In a delightful twist on the whole thing, the lady whom I was trying to assist thought the "Sir" and "Ma'am" was solely directed at her and said with a laugh, "I don't want to be a 'Sir'!", to which I replied, "Neither do I!"

We all had a laugh at that brief exchange.

[SassyCassie]

Dec 16 2017, 07.07am
From the past, a little present for the future.
This week, I had one of those mind-blowing epiphanies that hit me like a ton of bricks.

I have a cuff bracelet I wear almost constantly which has a phrase stamped into it. It says, "I love you to the moon and back". That's a phrase that my wife and I had become fond of back when we discovered the book it came from many years ago. At one point, we had little plushies of the Big and Little Nut-brown Hares.

There was one point in time between then and now where I was in a very low place emotionally and I had had the notion to just pull that bracelet off my wrist, drop it on the table in front of my wife and tell her, "Here, take this. I don't want it anymore."
Every time I read the words on it, my sorrow only deepened at what we had lost. Thankfully, one of my friends talked me down off that ledge and I got past it.

I had bought this bracelet for myself back on December 2, 2016, which was just under a week after I had started myself on hormones. A few people whom I have shown it had just assumed that Kim gave it to me. Thinking along those lines as well as considering just how much I've changed in the past year, I had an unexpected idea:

What if that bracelet had been bought by my former-self who was going away, for my present-self, as an expression of hope and love? I still get choked up when I think about that idea. It puts my feelings about "him" in a bit of a different light.


Dec 22 2017, 07.02pm
The OTHER other woman.

Back in the mid-90's, I was working as a PC tech for a company based out of Stuart. Well, I say "Company", but it was really only just the two of us.

Our main supplier for PC hardware was a reseller down in West Palm. A lot of the smaller computer businesses bought from them, so it was usually pretty busy at any given time. Once or twice a week, we would ride down there to pick up the parts we needed for upcoming installations and PC builds.

During one of our visits, I noticed "L", the guy I worked for, was talking in hushed tones with "G" who was the sales manager. They were talking about one of the other customers - a woman, which was an unusual sight in the "boys' club" that the computer business typically was back then and to a degree, still is today. Apparently, that woman ran her own PC company and up until recently had been a guy. They were talking something about how her jeans fit or some such. I don't recall the whole conversation. What I do recall is that I didn't dare look at her or even cast a glance in her direction. Until recently, I had assumed this to be out of courtesy and trying to not stare. I guess there was something more - maybe I didn't dare gaze upon what I was secretly hiding for fear of my reaction giving something away. I don't really know.

Fast-forward a whole lot of years to early December 2017. There's a similar shop near where I work that sells network and other structured wiring supplies, which I frequent to get materials for work. I also used to go there as my previous self.

Well, the last time I drove over there, I parked my truck, hopped out, slung my purse over my shoulder, and walked in the door. There were a bunch of guys in there, buying and selling and the only other woman in the place was one of the clerks at the sales counter. As I was wandering around looking for what I came to buy, that's when that story about the trans woman all those years ago came to the surface. I stood there for a moment and thought about how now I'm her - years apart but in very similar circumstances. I don't know if anyone in there was talking about me like they were about her all those years ago but the realization of the similarity was a bit shocking.

[SassyCassie]

Jan 07 2018, 11.18am
The Last Jedi and the Newest Fan
I went and (finally!) saw The Last Jedi last night. I found it fairly enjoyable, in spite of any reviews to the contrary.

The most significant part of the whole experience was not the film itself, but whom I found myself sitting next to.

The theater was one of those with the big comfy powered reclining chairs and assigned seating - both nice qualities as opposed to the older movie theater model of it being a free-for-all where the later you arrive, the closer to the screen you sit. The downside to this newer model is that you'll never get a seat in the "prime' location down the center of the theater because you have to pay to be a "super-duper, extra-special" member or whatever they call it.

Anyway, enough griping - I'm getting off-track here.

For a movie that has been out a couple of weeks, there was still quite a crowd. Having arrived close to the start time, I could only get a seat in the third row from the screen - what we used to call "the breakneck seats". Next to me were a dad and a little boy - how old, I don't really know, but I'd guess between 5 to 8 years old. As I sat down and got myself settled, I could feel him staring intently at me. Of course, this was like a puff of air upon the tiny ember of insecurity I still carry with me and it flared briefly. Once I damped it down and got myself situated I turned toward him and favored him with a smile, at which point he sheepishly turned away. Thinking back several years ago, what he would have gotten from me would have been teeth bared in a feral grin. My how times have changed!

When the commercials and previews finally came to an end and we were advised to put on our 3D glasses (which we had already been wearing since most of the previews were 3D). The theater darkened and all was still momentarily until the theme music, familiar to me for 40 years, started playing. Seeing movement to my right, I turned to see that boy just dancing in his seat and waving his arms, just as happy as can be. I couldn't help but crack a wide smile at seeing the kind of innocent fandom I remembered from all those decades ago. It was not to last, however.

Just a little after an hour into the film, I heard some deep inhalations of breath next to me. I glanced over in his direction and saw that he had the seat fully reclined as far in the horizontal plane as it could go and he was curled up, fast asleep in what I hoped was his happy place.

In the years past, I've never been a fan of children. They were always little more than an irritant to me but I'm not sure why, to be honest. After all, they are the product of our basest, most primitive drive - that of passing on our particular blend of genes and perpetuation of the species and it's one of the primary things that gives us purpose as living, sentient beings.

When I first came out to my closest friends, (about a year ago, now) I remember saying one phrase on multiple occasions - "I'll still be 'me.'" It turns out that this was to be both true and false:

True in that I do still have the same sense of humor and way with words that I've always had. I still have a lot of the same interests as I did before. The connections that I've made with friends have, for the most part, not only remained but have grown stronger.

False in that that sense of humor and way with words are tempered with a loving, compassionate soul that, I'm told was always there, but has finally been allowed to come to the forefront.

A number of the attitudes and opinions I had expressed over the years, I've found are no longer applicable - most particularly those regarding children. Where I used to avoid them whenever possible in public and was irritated by their mere proximity to me, now none of that happens. I've found myself tested in that regard on a few occasions, in fact. Even at times when someone's kid is being a brat in a store or restaurant, that place inside me that was once incandescent with rage is now calm, peaceful, and often slightly bemused at the scene.

I can't say whether the source might be hormonally-driven changes in brain chemistry, a psychological shift from the emotional burden lifted from my shoulders in the past year, or the influence of many of the kind and loving people I've surrounded myself with - probably a combination of those and half a dozen other of the little tweaks and changes I've undergone during that time.

I'm sure I've said this before that I've tried to research this whole transition process so that I could navigate it as smoothly as possible, but I feel like I'm starting to head into uncharted waters so deeply personal that it cannot be navigated by anyone but myself.

Only I can choose which path this journey shall take, but I'm thankful that I don't have to walk it alone.

[SassyCassie]

Jan 08 2018, 06.41am
A mother's love is...absent?
Ever since that night just before hurricane Irma hit us, when I drastically moved up my schedule and came out to my mother, I've been readying myself to take the next step. That next step is, of course, a face-to-face meeting. It's something I've been alternately looking forward to and dreading as the days have gone by.

That day is rapidly approaching - it's this Saturday (coincidentally on the 13th!)

I've been texting with her over the past week or two in order to get things set up. We've had to hash out some details, most particularly where to meet. Of course, she wants me to come to her house. I told her that I can't go there right now. I said I'm in a very fragile emotional period in my life and being in that environment would be about the worst thing I could do right now. I wouldn't be able to speak from the heart in that house.

Her reply was, "I don't understand why it is so horrible for you to come into this house. Why can't you let go of the past?"

I said, "It's because you have no idea what it was like for me growing up this way - carrying around an underlying depression that tainted every aspect of my life and personality, yet I had no idea of the cause. I had just assumed it was like that for everyone else in the world and they were just better than me at dealing with it. If I could 'let go of the past' as you say, we would never have had that conversation we did right before the hurricane. I would have simply decided to move on and have a life filled with a joy I never knew before. I don't want to do that out of the hope that we can have some sort of relationship going forward, but I need to take it slow."

Her reply was, "G (She can't bring herself to use my chosen name), I can appreciate what you are saying about being fragile and with all that you are dealing with. I love you very much G you are my only child and if meeting with me is something you have to do to make peace with your past then we will meet. As far as a relationship it's not going to be possible but we can talk a little about that later."

I so very much wanted to ask the question, 'Then why are you inviting me into your house if you already know this effort is doomed to fail? Are you just stringing along another wicked non-believer just long enough for that check from the insurance company to come in?"
Neither of those questions would have ultimately yielded an answer I wanted to hear though.

I'm going down there and having lunch with her at Bonefish in {SOUTH FLORIDA} at 2pm on Saturday. This is more of the all-too-common theme of proceeding into uncharted territory, which is simultaneously exciting and terrifying.

Addendum: I thought more about the idea of how horrible it was in that house. When I tried to recall the happy moments from growing up there...I couldn't think of a single one. Then the tears started falling.

That's why I can't go there.

[SassyCassie]

Jan 12 2018, 05.15pm
Sic vis pacem para bellum - also a day of firsts.
I took today off from work to prepare myself for Saturday.

I had decided back when I started to formulate the plan for this trip that I was going to do my best to show my mom what a beautiful, confident woman I've become.

I went and got my hair done this morning - the blonde balayage was in dire need of a refresh. I got my nails done afterward - and another first for me, actually. This was the first time ever that I've had acrylic nails put on. More on that later. The last thing on my to-do list after lunch was to get my eyebrows done over at Ulta. They didn't have anyone on-duty at the time for doing eyebrow services, so I went to a salon one woman suggested, that does eyebrow threading. I'd heard of that process before but never even saw it done, let along had it done on me. Well, I went for it and a short while later, I came out looking fabulous!

The title of this entry, "Sic vis pacem, para bellum" basically means, "Hope for peace but prepare for war". That was the attitude I had had going into this whole endeavor. When I offhandedly expressed that idea to "K" at work yesterday, she told me in no uncertain terms that that was the wrong way to look at something like this. She said that if I look at it in those terms, then the whole effort was likely doomed to fail before it even began. In my mind at the time, I was thinking that way in more of a humorous fashion, but this gave me some food for thought.

Later on, I realized that the phrase, "preparing for war", and the almost fatalistic attitude accompanying it was an old coping mechanism that goes way, way back to my former life. Realization of this floored me, as I realized that I was going about it entirely the wrong way - that deep down inside, I didn't want to think of it in that way. I wanted so much for this to go in a positive direction and not turn into the disaster that I was surely and unconsciously setting myself up for.

With that in mind, my whole outlook on the situation did a 180-degree turn and I just kept my attitude positive for the remainder of the day. Later on, "K" even remarked that I seemed a bit brighter somehow and I mentioned that I had been re-thinking my whole view on the upcoming event and how much it helped relieve the anxiety which had been plaguing me as the date got closer.

Travel plans are set, the plan for dinner with an old friend has also been made so that, regardless of how it goes with my mom, I still have that to look forward to.

Also, just two days ago, I had been invited by a friend to a going-away party for one of our mutual friends with whom I had worked for over a decade until he was fired several weeks ago. I'd be seeing some people whom I had not seen in a lot of years - some of whom may not know what's been going on with me. I told her that I would love to come. I thought, "What better way to finish off a day spent making myself look fabulous?"



Jan 12 2018, 04.27pm
A commitment of sorts
In days past, prior to coming out to the world, I had been known to do my nails on a Friday evening, wear them like that all weekend, and then undo them for Monday morning when I had to go back to work.

What with all of the changes in my new life, one benefit is that I can leave my nails done all the time. One downside to it is that with my new body chemistry from the HRT, my nails are not nearly as thick and strong as they used to be. I have been experiencing one of the age-old problems suffered by women all over - weak nails I can't grow out very far before they break off.

I had decided it was time to get my nails done professionally and have the dip-acrylics done. I went to the salon, chose what color I wanted, and got started. After the nail tech at the salon filed my nails down to where they were even with the shortest one, I cringed a bit internally at how short they were and asked if it was too late to do extensions. She said it wasn't and got out her box of extension tips.

Before and after the nail salon!

Later on that day, while I was eating a light lunch and marveling at how wonderful my nails looked, a realization hit me:

This was the first, real commitment I had made to having lovely, feminine nails. What I mean is that, previously with just nail polish, I could at any time simply take off the polish and return my nails to their natural state. Having acrylics done is a whole new thing which, in addition to being costly, takes a lot of time and effort to undo.

It was a happy moment and a milestone of sorts, I think.

[SassyCassie]

Jan 12 2018, 11.50pm
Party time
I went to "B"'s place tonight for "M's going-away party. At first, I had seen it as a chance to maybe try and patch things up with "M" since I had inadvertently hurt him by not coming out to him before it was announced to the entire department at work. That and, in my own vain self-interest, I could show myself off to some folks I hadn't seen in many many years.

When I got there, I parked in the lot behind the building as had been requested so as to not tip off the guest of honor that this was a surprise party. He was to be under the impression that they were going to see the new Star Wars film. When I got there, I tapped on the sliding glass door and was beckoned to enter by "B"'s friend "J". I introduced myself and proffered the chilled bottle of Moscato I had brought with me. With that, glasses of wine were poured and we sat down to chat for a short while before another tap on the glass came. "J" waved the new visitor in and the door slid open. In stepped "JT" - a guy I had known many years ago back during the Coven and goth club days. I stood up, offered my hand and introduced myself as Cassandra. "JT" was cordial as usual, just how I remember him always having been, and there was no apparent flicker of recognition in his eyes. I had a little internal "Squee" moment at that!

A few more people showed up as we were chatting and suddenly we heard "M"'s key hit the lock on the front door. The guest of honor had arrived! We all scrambled for hiding places as the key turned and the door opened. Everyone jumped out and yelled, "Surprise!", catching him totally off-guard. The party had just officially started.

A short while later, as guests continued to trickle in, "P", whom I had similarly not seen in many years, came in with her husband "JM". Again, I greeted them and introduced myself as Cassandra. Again, no apparent flicker of recognition. Squee!

As we all chatted some more and I sat down to enjoy some of "J"'s awesome chili, "P" approached me and said that "M" had told her who I was and that she had thought she recognized me but wasn't sure enough to say anything. I think the Squee moment can still stand though. One thing that sticks out in my mind (and cause for another "Squee!" moment) is what she told me she was thinking when they came in the door. She said she had looked over at me on the opposite end of the room and wondered, "Who's she? She's beautiful but she looks a little bit like '{DEADNAME}'" She then told me about having not been entirely sure though.

We went out on the back porch to get away from the noise of the party and I told "P" about what all had been going on with me in recent years. I found out then that "M" had taken it upon himself to "out" me to both "JT" and "P" - something for which I should be a bit more annoyed at him than I really am. I had already planned to do so myself anyway, but just at my own pace. Oh well.

I ended up staying an hour longer than I had originally planned but eventually bid my farewells, saying that I had an important road trip coming up the following morning. What an understatement that was!

As I was saying my goodbyes, "M" and I shared a long hug and I wished him the best of luck with his new job and new home. We parted for a moment and locked eyes with each other. Mine were already starting to mist up. Apparently, he noticed and we hugged again, even tighter. I whispered in his ear, "I'm going to miss you!". At that moment, time slowed. I felt the stubble of his cheek lightly scratching mine and the impulse ran through my mind to give him a peck on the cheek, as any woman might do for a longtime friend. My breath caught as I held off that impulse for fear of the moment becoming awkward at that, given our history with each other. We separated again and again we made eye contact. He said to me, "Breathe. Just breathe." I nodded tightly, fighting off tears and turned away to head out into the cold damp air of the night.

[jules968]

Thank you for sharing your story.  For what's it worth it is very helpful to see other people's experiences.


Sent from my iPhone using Tapatalk

[SassyCassie]

Jan 13 2018, 01.32am
A cousin's love is a wonderful thing
While I was at the party earlier this evening, I got a message from my cousin "S". I had glanced at it while at the party and decided I needed to read it a little later because it was of a tear-inducing nature. It was in regard to my upcoming meeting with my mother.

This is the message:

"Hey Cassandra!!!! Aka G lol, I just want to lend my support for your reunion with mom. I know she can be ..... Difficult, especially with this religion thingy going on, but after your dad passed she was "lost" and had little hope for any kind of happiness until she found her place in church, which really does make her happy. I had always thought unk G didn't appear to appreciate or really care about your mom and seemed to frequently leave her hanging out there with a son who seemed to hate her, you were always so angry. BUT, With that being said, Yes you should insulate yourself for some level of rejection as it indeed may take time to negotiate this for you both. I can say this, when we were kids, girl you were something else! Not the most friendly, fluffy n soft thing for sure! But in hindsight it makes total sense. See the thing is, is you are, or seem to be SO happy and comfortable now, not so much comfortable with the world and the possible scrutiny but within yourself completely!!! Your smiles now are huge and seem to be deep and genuine and I don't remember you ever being that way... Egg shells forrizzle! In the end it may take time, it may be an enormous shock at first, but like your metamorphosis into a happy, fairly sure and BEAUTIFUL WOMAN all great things take time. She wants her child to love her, she always has. This is just the jumping off point, and jumping is always a little scary for us all ! I truly believe that when she recognizes how truly and finally happy you are it will slowly open that door a peep at a time. It's funny, after all these years, you both are genuinely happy, but it is apparent you both are missing the exact same thing.... Each other! And that my sister from another mister is a fact. She might be expecting that lil ->-bleeped-<- of an angry son... But she truly is in for a surprise!!!!!!!!!!! Good luck and don't be afraid to love her, she's probably afraid to love you. Lots of old wounds for you both."

With mind sufficiently blown at this, I replied,

"Hey, cousin! Thank you for sending that. You've said a lot there that I had never even considered thinking of from her perspective. At first, I had in mind that I was preparing for war. I realized, with some advice from friends that I was approaching it completely the wrong way - that I need to let go of that old, fatalistic coping mechanism I was apparently still clinging to.

With that, I've decided that I'm going to just keep a positive outlook on it and just go with what my heart truly feels.

Today, I got my hair and nails done and tomorrow, I'm going to walk into that restaurant as the beautiful, confident woman I have grown to be. I hope she'll see that and understand the this is who I truly am and I'm finally at ease with myself.

[SassyCassie]

Jan 13 2018, 03.26pm
A child's love is found but was never truly lost...

Hi Mom, it's me, your daughter.
Well, I did it. I met with my mom for lunch on Saturday.

I arrived at the restaurant a few minutes early. Though I had made a reservation, the place was not very busy, given that it was past the normal lunch time. I asked the host if he could seat us a little bit away from the other diners because I was seeing my mom for the first time in over three years and that it might get a little bit emotional. He found me an out-of-the-way table with a window facing the parking lot.

When the waiter arrived with the tea I asked for, I noticed my hands were shaking as I slid the glass in front of me. Seeing movement in the parking lot, I glanced over and saw a woman approaching. Her hair was white and cut short in the same way my mom always....that's her!

As she stepped through the door, I stood up and straightened my dress. She saw me as she approached and we greeted each other with a hug. We sat down and started to talk. A lot of the conversation was a blur and some was the type of general small talk one might hear from any ladies out dining with each other.

One of the things we discussed centered around what my cousin had sent me about how my mom thought I hated her because I was so angry back than - just in general. My dad used to spend most of the year working overseas during that period in time, so she was having to earn a living, maintain a household and deal with a son whom she thought hated her. I told her that I had no idea the pressure of having to handle all of that with no gratitude from the one she was taking care of. I said I felt awful for having treated her that way. I had always had the feeling that she hated me - that she sought out any happiness I might be experiencing and stomp on it.

I told her the story about the bullet I had at one point planned to use to end my life and showed her the picture of it as well. She said, "I had no idea", to which I replied that I was very good at hiding things. I also talked to her briefly about some of the studies that have come about transgender people, especially the one that showed trans women having one key section of the brain similar in size to those of natal women, whereas that part of the brain in men is much smaller.

We talked some about her religion and how I realized how it had become such a large part of her life and what a comfort it was for her during those tough times.

The last point I brought up is about how when I got married 6 years ago, I hadn't told any of my family I even got married, let alone invited any of them to the wedding. My aunt (my mom's twin sister) had told me months ago that my mom had taken that like a slap in her face and I imagine that it had only reinforced the notion that I hated her. With eyes welling up with tears, I told her that though I couldn't change the past, I could at least say I was sorry for that and ask that she forgive me. She said she did forgive me.

During the whole conversation, she kept using my original name, as you might expect. The first time, I told her that everyone calls me Cassandra now, or Cassie if she preferred, and that it would mean a lot to me if she would make an effort to use my chosen name. She said she would try. It was all I could ask for. Each time she used my old name, I gently corrected her and she apologized and called me 'Cassie'. I call that progress!

At the end as we said our goodbyes and I-love-yous, we had one of the staff take our picture. Both of us were smiling probably more than we ever had before when we were together.

I think the combination of letting her see what a beautiful confident woman I had become, coupled with allowing myself to be vulnerable in front of her, made all the difference in the world with how it turned out.

It turned out to be a happy day! When I got back to the hotel room, I told Steph that it went really well. I then changed into my comfy clothes, lay down on the bed, and that was when the dam broke. All the stress of the past few weeks came flooding out of me. After a while, the sobs subsided and I was able to relax for a while.

What started out looking like it would be the final closure of one of the stories of my life, ended up just being the start of a new chapter.

Author's Note: Never once in my life did I imagine I'd exchange these exact words with my mom:

"Oh, I forgot how tall you are."

"I'm wearing heels, mom."