Susan's Place: 30 years of community, powered by people who believe transgender voices matter.
Started by tinkerbell, November 06, 2006, 01:02:50 PM
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Quote from: Tinkerbell on November 06, 2006, 01:02:50 PMArticle"Long before your trials are over and you can reach some kind of normal, happy life, you'll say many times, "Why me?" You'll probably wish you could've just been born in the right body to start with, or with the right brain. Sometimes, because it gets so hard, you'll maybe even think of not going through with it, just putting the mask back on and living a fake life. So if someone says to you that they're glad they were born this way, and wouldn't change a thing if they could go back to the past, you might think either they're a very strong person, or else they're crazy".tinkerbell
QuoteThis is not to say that we're superior to non-transsexuals. This is simply to emphasise that we are different, in a good way. Just as they know things we don't, such as what it's like to have the childhood that we were robbed of, we also know so many things that they don't. It's a fantastic trade-off, and I think, worth all the pain it takes to get there.
Quote from: Julie Marie on November 06, 2006, 02:26:48 PMSince I couldn't change myself to fit socially acceptable norms, I went searching for positive aspects of being transsexual. And I found many. But if I wasn't TS my guess is I'd be just like almost every person in mainstream society, blind to the hell society puts TSs through.There are things I learned from being TS that I doubt I ever would had I not been. And I truly believe I am a better person because of it. Now all I have to do is find someone who won't judge this book by it's cover.Julie
QuoteAs a young girl across the tracks from our home there was a little woods I loved to walk and sit in. I remember seeing a tree that was struck by lightning in it's early life. The sun-hot searing scars were still there. Even so, she was still growing and living years after the strike. She still had beautiful oak leaves and was proudly bearing the acorn fruit of her desires.Over the years of my youth I watched this old oak tree slowly grow and thrive like her sisters in those woods. The only things that made her different from the others in the woods was the scar running down her side and she was fatter and squatter at the base. She had a thick branch that drove out horizontally that was perfect to sit on. Sitting there I would reach over and touch the scar from the lighting strike. No bark grew along the searing path. The vertical scar was smooth to the touch and had small convolutions that I could run my fingers along. I would think of that searing sun-hot strike and touching where it ran, somehow it deeply stirred my basic emotions.I became to love this old oak, to admire her tenacity to continue to live and grow and do the thing she was put on this earth to do. Not because she was different from the others in the woods, not that she didn't look the same, not that she had a scar from her past. I became to love this old oak because I realized a simple truth, she was touched by a finger of God to be beautiful and different. To show me that we all are touched by events in our lives that scar us and make us a little different.Before I left my home in my seventeenth year on this earth we had a tornado hit the little woods, barely missing our home. You could see where it came on it through the edge of the woods, starting high up. As it dropped lower and lower it tore trees from their roots. Swirling and raging like a grim reaper it violently ripped branches from the trees closest to it and laid bare earth devastation down the center of its path.It left as quickly as it had came, in it's wake was the swath of destruction of torn dying and neutered trees. In the quiet that followed, I ran over to see what had happened to the little woods I loved. I needed to see if "she" was still standing. To my chest gripping horror the tornado had made a bee-line directly for her. I couldn't see her, the woods that were on the side covered the path of the destruction. The closer I got more of the destructive path was exposed. Leaves were stripped, branches were broken and roots were exposed down the "grove". I knew she was gone. But there in the middle of the path, in the midst of the destruction, she still stood! Her leaves were tattered shards showing as a few wisps of green on her branches.Slowly I climbed over the other trees heading towards her. I climbed up and sat on her comforting branch again. I touched the still smooth convoluted scar. Looking around at her sisters I then realized why she had been touched so many years ago. That old scarred oak had faced another finger of God and lived. She had grown a little shorter, a little stronger from that searing white hot strike many years ago and because of it withstood the tornado that destroyed her sisters.
Quote from: Anaya on May 29, 2007, 11:36:16 AMthis reminds me of something i read waaaay back (ok not so way back, maybe 5 years ) which really touched me somehow.QuoteAs a young girl across the tracks from our home there was a little woods I loved to walk and sit in. I remember seeing a tree that was struck by lightning in it's early life. The sun-hot searing scars were still there. Even so, she was still growing and living years after the strike. She still had beautiful oak leaves and was proudly bearing the acorn fruit of her desires.Over the years of my youth I watched this old oak tree slowly grow and thrive like her sisters in those woods. The only things that made her different from the others in the woods was the scar running down her side and she was fatter and squatter at the base. She had a thick branch that drove out horizontally that was perfect to sit on. Sitting there I would reach over and touch the scar from the lighting strike. No bark grew along the searing path. The vertical scar was smooth to the touch and had small convolutions that I could run my fingers along. I would think of that searing sun-hot strike and touching where it ran, somehow it deeply stirred my basic emotions.I became to love this old oak, to admire her tenacity to continue to live and grow and do the thing she was put on this earth to do. Not because she was different from the others in the woods, not that she didn't look the same, not that she had a scar from her past. I became to love this old oak because I realized a simple truth, she was touched by a finger of God to be beautiful and different. To show me that we all are touched by events in our lives that scar us and make us a little different.Before I left my home in my seventeenth year on this earth we had a tornado hit the little woods, barely missing our home. You could see where it came on it through the edge of the woods, starting high up. As it dropped lower and lower it tore trees from their roots. Swirling and raging like a grim reaper it violently ripped branches from the trees closest to it and laid bare earth devastation down the center of its path.It left as quickly as it had came, in it's wake was the swath of destruction of torn dying and neutered trees. In the quiet that followed, I ran over to see what had happened to the little woods I loved. I needed to see if "she" was still standing. To my chest gripping horror the tornado had made a bee-line directly for her. I couldn't see her, the woods that were on the side covered the path of the destruction. The closer I got more of the destructive path was exposed. Leaves were stripped, branches were broken and roots were exposed down the "grove". I knew she was gone. But there in the middle of the path, in the midst of the destruction, she still stood! Her leaves were tattered shards showing as a few wisps of green on her branches.Slowly I climbed over the other trees heading towards her. I climbed up and sat on her comforting branch again. I touched the still smooth convoluted scar. Looking around at her sisters I then realized why she had been touched so many years ago. That old scarred oak had faced another finger of God and lived. She had grown a little shorter, a little stronger from that searing white hot strike many years ago and because of it withstood the tornado that destroyed her sisters. it was written by Shell for the "what do i want from Life section" of Antijen.orgFascinating...
Quote from: Lori on May 29, 2007, 11:48:17 AMNothing like having that bill collector call and explain to them "Hey I'm going through a sex change, do you mind putting that on the back burner until I'm done?" I seriously told a telemarketer the other day...Oh he is going through a midlife crisis/sexchange thang...could you note that the name is Lori now, and call back some other time when the hormones are stable?