Sunday, August 23, 2015

The Word is Transgender

I did some shopping. I cut my hair. After all this. I didn't realize that even though I don't see myself as a woman, I still look like a woman to everyone else. But I’m not really a woman, biologically yes. On the inside, it’s frightening. I’m afraid of the word transgender because I don’t see myself as living as a man. See, it is really difficult to be a different in this society. Gender roles are so fundamental to the way society works that we’re kind of forced to be either or. And, frankly, life is so much easier being a woman right now. Or perhaps it’s because I’ve lived as a woman for so long that I feel that there are perks.

There are privileges that make life easier. For instance, a woman can be bought dinner and drinks, but a man isn’t afforded that level of generosity. A woman can go to any side of the store, be it the men’s clothes or lingerie (see, how I don’t even have to specify women’s lingerie?) and not be judged. Women get first right to custody, unless they do something so unbecoming of a woman.

Hey, it’s terrible that I see myself living as a woman because my life would be easier! Or am I just making reasons to justify that I’m okay with my biological body? I don’t see myself as a woman, and if no one but myself can see that...well is that going to be an issue down the road? I feel that it could or could not be, but that ultimately I don’t have to choose right now. I don’t have to choose to be addressed as a man or woman right now, because that’s just who I am.

If another person were to be in my situation, then he or she would most likely place pronoun identification sooner rather than later. And that’s great for them. Right now, I’m a man who is totally okay with *HER* biological body. And can’t really decide on the proper pronoun to save *HIS* life. But deep down, I know the right answer. It's just a matter of getting used to it.

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

The Little Things

I told an old friend, the inspiration of For the Seasons, that I would start transitioning into the appearance of a man soon. Starting with a haircut, new clothes, and some form of chest binding. The next day I confided in a friend that I would go as far as my paycheck would take me and showed her the haircut I wanted.

Really, I'm not really sure if I should call what I'm doing as transitioning. In a way, I'm just trying to make my appearance match how I feel deep down. I want to finally show the world who I think I am. It's a destination after a lifetime of soul searching!

Other little changes I'm making include eating fewer carbs and working out so that my body can be more masculine. I tried growing a 'beard' but that's so unbecoming. How does it not bother guys to have a beard?!? I'm looking up a ton of Pete Burns pictures to create a style. He's such an inspiration both as a person (come on, he married a man before it was legal) and as an artist.

I'm thinking the whole look thing, or as I'm thinking to call it, look a great first step. Not the first step. Because life isn't math, things happen in overlapping sequences. But a great step to finalizing an identity that gender queer and transgender people hope to achieve.

Saturday, August 15, 2015


I find myself to be most insensitive. It's practically tunnel vision. I avoid things that either make me uncomfortable or completely bore me. Not because these things are uncomfortable OR boring, but because I refuse to see merit in them. That's complete tunnel vision, right?

But, aren't we entitled to only care for our own wants and desires? Wouldn't that just be peachy, and lonely? That's where I am now. Entitled, peachy, and lonely. Look I'm sorry I'm having so much fun being closed minded and by myself. But I can't help it that I'd rather be alone and bored than with company and... Well bored.

Please don't worry about me. You're better off without having a friend like me. I've sucked people into my insecurities. I've left issues sour my demeanor. I've stayed quiet, hidden my feelings, and you've lived your life. It's been fun, I've heard. I hope you know,  though I'm not having the time of my life, I'm still me.

And I think you're an amazing person.

Tuesday, August 11, 2015

Dear God:

I can't let the people I care about into my circle of trust. Why are people embarrassed to see others dance in public? Or being loud, outspoken, and themselves?

God. Is it okay if I stopped looking over Genesis? If I stopped studying the story of Sarah and Abraham, formerly known as Sarai and Abram. Is my name 'Sarai', okay to discard? And will it be okay to make a new agreement with my new name Sopphey Vance as we witnessed on September of 2013? The day of my baptism, when it meant something to see almost strangers stand with my as I entered your realm.

Can I still be Christian if I'm a little transgender or gender queer? What if I transitioned into more of a male appearance? What if I chose to ask science to help me become more of a woman? Can I still seek justice, love and kindness, and walk humbly with you? Can I still attend the women's Bible study? Can I still help out in the church kitchen. Do I all of a sudden not belong in a public women's or men's restroom?

Can you still love me? Care for me, guide me? Will grace still protect me if I'm different!


Thursday, August 6, 2015

I want to go home.

My pew is the third pew on the right side of the sanctuary. Everyone has their own pew. And mine is that one. I sit to the left side of the podium because I can get a really good recording of the sermon.

It's also almost perpendicular to the cross that hangs from the ceiling. And one time, a very dear person took me from my back pew and sat me on the third row. She said it was a favorable spot with a ton of blessings. And I just felt so thankful and so happy that I could sit in that row. And I could pass on all those blessings to all of my church family. And that somehow I never sat alone because the holy spirit sat next to me giving me a big tight hug as I cried my heart out during service.

Then I stopped going home. And when I returned I stopped crying because there was no holy spirit sitting next to me giving me a hug. There were fewer dear people sitting in their pews. And there was a brand new pastor standing behind the podium saying, "Miss Sopphey Vance, welcome back to your home."

But I was very lonely. And that made me angry. And then I became sad. No matter how much I love the place. No matter how much I love the people...I'm not the person that first sat in the back row. I'm not sure how I became that person for that time being. But, for sure the person I know I am is totally different. And different always clashes in a church that does things in a dignified and orderly fashion. But I want to go back, and maybe that will be a home for the person I am.

Sunday, August 2, 2015

Girl or boy?

I feel like I'm playing dress up when I dress like a woman. It feels like I'm a blank canvas and I'm not any gender. But, I am two. My body is biologically female with select male features because of endocrine issues. Biologically I am a woman. Gender wise, I'm null. Is that a sign of gender identity disorder? That all my life I've never felt like a girl. Is the mystical third gender the name to the feeling I've felt my whole life?

Where do these questions come from...why do I feel this now? I had plans, dreams, aspirations. This whirlwind of exploring my identity has gone farther than choosing if I want to be a poet, publisher, or a professor...the things that defined who I am! I'm not presently a poet, publisher, designer or whatever other career I chose to explore..and now I don't know if all my life I've felt like a neutral gender playing dress up!

Isn't just being okay with being a girl good enough for me? It should be. I wanted it to be. But as I've gone around the odd jobs, freelance gigs, and several magazines later...I've come to realize I never knew the basics about myself.

My state of mind is playing tricks on me. It should be easy. I should be able to look into the mirror and recognize the person, the gender, I want to be. I can easily feel comfortable when the mirror reflects who I know I am. Or who I want to be.

Or should I let it be? Keep this feeling hidden longer. Ignoring the crucial information to joining my identity visually and mentally. How does knowing yourself really affect the entirety of your life? I don't know. I don't know how to find out. I just know, that it's a question I need to solve.