Puberty blockers: my son's life perserver
Sunday, April 21, 2013 by: Mary Moss
http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/puberty-blockers-my-sons-life-perserver/466/ (http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/puberty-blockers-my-sons-life-perserver/466/)
My son got his period at age 12 and a half, and we both cried. We both had dreaded this day and hoped to avoid it altogether. It's true my son had the physical parts of a girl and was born my daughter, but I discovered when he came out as transgender he was actually my son. What boy wants to grow breasts and get a period? None that I know wish for this; in fact it was torture for him.
Him getting his period was a reminder to him that he wasn't physically a boy, that he was very different indeed. We had an appointment in the fall to see an endocrinologist in our area but that appointment couldn't come soon enough as his period began in May. My son became more and more despondent and depressed and, as when he first told me he was transgender, I feared I would loose him. He was drowning, and I had to find a way to save him again.
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Living between the ears
Wednesday, April 10, 2013 by: Renate Hartman
http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/living-between-the-ears/318/ (http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/living-between-the-ears/318/)
As you all know, I was born this month
But I gestated for 12 years. Twelve years of men's clothes, clunky shoes, and too much sport and virtually no makeup! How did that happen? Well, about twelve years ago , Richard realized I was lurking in his mind. Hmm says he. Maybe I should let her out for a while see what happens. And he did – sort of. I actually got to go shopping and the clothes I picked out were absolutely DRAB. You see Richard was controlling the money and therefore the style – about which he had very little sense. OK for men's clothes but not for mine.
I did get to go out some, but limited to lesbian bars. I put my foot down at gay bars as Richard did not come along and I wanted to be with other women. Now and again, I got out to a restaurant but had to travel out of town and rarely got to be with other girlfriends. Really a very unsatisfactory arrangement.
The one day, Richard's wife discovered me. Oh my, that was really difficult finding out there was another woman in the house. And, while she didn't forbid me to live there, I was relegated to Richard's head and between his ears. But I worked him over mentally, He started looking at things the proper way, e.g. the way I do. His dress did improve a little.
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Now my side
Sunday, April 14, 2013 by: Renate Hartman
http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/now-my-side/386/ (http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/now-my-side/386/)
This is a guest blog from Richard, whom I mentioned in my last blog. richardcrop
Hello I am Richard; you know the person Renate said was dead? Not quite but almost. When I read her post "Between the ears" I had to respond; so she gave me a guest blog spot.
Her claim that she was not just in a closet but limited to my head is sort of true. What she did not say is that she was entirely unwelcome in my marriage. Now I ask you, which is more important? A pushy "other" woman or a spouse of 20 years at the time Renate started barging into my conscious life?
Renate claims discrimination in my life – absolutely true. But she did not mention her active appearance put a wedge between my wife and myself. I was given an ultimatum of either the wife or Renate. The war was between the two of them!
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Grab a cuppa: It's T time
Wednesday, April 17, 2013 by: Byrgen Finkelman
http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/grab-a-cuppa-its-t-time/392/ (http://blog.timesunion.com/transgender/grab-a-cuppa-its-t-time/392/)
We had the privilege of hearing a young poet, Kylie A. Gorski, read her poem,
"Every Letter" (with excerpts from: Martin Luther King's "I Have a Dream" speech)
at the Schenecta-T County: Community Pride Walk on Saturday, April 13th.
Today, I have the privilege of sharing the poem with you.
Schenecta-T
Communi-T
Me
Since when do we decide who is more
Oppressed and who is less?
I'm sick of hearing
"we shouldn't be together, we are too different."
We are different!
And that's what unites us.
It doesn't matter why we are oppressed
or forgotten or written off, just that we are.