The MRM vs. Transwomen ***TW***

***TW: mis-gendering, strong trans*-bashing, transphobic violence***

In the primer, I shared what I felt was a useful summary excerpt from a very good article by Jaclyn Friedman. I also found some interesting reading on attempts to ‘rebrand’ the Men’s Rights Movement, in light of the negative publicity generated by… well, by speaking. Here is some of what I read:

But, what I just couldn’t pry myself away from was a post in “The Spearhead.” (seen as one of the “moderate” and “respectable” MRM drivel-spiggots)

I thought it was especially appropriate, given that I have been talking about transgender motherhood, I wanted to share a little gem with you from this past Mother’s Day. After I let the author, W.F Price have the floor, I will be back with some thoughts.
Here is the article, presented unaltered, with extremely strong trigger warnings:


A NY Times Mother’s Day Op-ed: Trannies are Equal Moms

by W.F. Price on May 12, 2013

When you see some kinds of articles, you start to understand why it was prescient women like Phyllis Schlafly who killed the Equal Rights Amendment. Men were pretty much in favor. I mean, what’s not to like about it? Under legal gender equality women would have to share all the crap that falls primarily on men’s shoulders. However, it should be pointed out that feminists, with a few notable exceptions, never supported it either. The version they supported included something known as the “Hayden Rider,” which preserved all female privileges and exemptions while granting women all of men’s privileges, i.e. the status quo.

But a brave, valiant minority is challenging female supremacy. Not patriarchal drones or supporters of male privilege, but men who reject everything about masculinity. Men who reject it so much that they chop off their genitalia and take female hormones in order to eradicate everything male about them.

One of these stalwart, self-mutilating individuals – a “former” male who goes by the name Jennifer Finley Boylan – has declared that he’s every bit the mother as any woman. Sure, he had children as a male, but that doesn’t mean he can’t now call himself “mom,” and demand they do the same. However, it isn’t only his kids who must call him “mother,” but all of us. If we don’t accept that he’s a mother, we’re bigots. Why? Because he has shared the defining maternal experience, which he puts down as “suffering.”

ONE day, toward the end of my transition from father to mother, I came home to find my 6-year-old son looking thoughtful. “Are you all right?” I asked.

“Yes,” Sean said quietly. He was playing with Thomas the Tank Engine. His favorite engine was No. 5, red James. That had also been my name, back before it became Jenny.

“What are you thinking?”

“It’s just it used to be you and me and Zach, the three boys on one side,” he said, “and Mommy and Lucy-dog on the other.”

“I know,” I said, feeling my heart clench.

“Now it’s Zach and me on one side, and you and Mommy and Lucy-dog over there.”

“I’m sorry, Sean,” I said. My voice was barely a whisper. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s O.K.,” said Sean. “The boys are just outnumbered.”

I have been a dad for 6 years, a mom for 12, and for a time in between I was both, or neither, like some parental version of the schnoodle or the cockapoo.


People have pointed out to me that, despite calling myself a mother, I didn’t give birth to my sons. They’re right, of course. But there is a lot more to parenting than birthing, just as there is a lot more to a novel than its opening sentence. After this long journey from an opposite-sex couple to a same-sex one, my wife and I can say it’s what comes after that counts.

I understand the reluctance many people have to play down the importance of gender, or for that matter, biology, in parenting; a world in which male and female are not fixed poles but points in a spectrum is a world that feels unstable, unreal. And yet to accept the wondrous scope of gender is to affirm the potential of life, in all its messy beauty. Motherhood and fatherhood are not binaries. And that, I’d argue, is a good thing.

Only a small percentage of American households now consist of married couples with children in which only the father works. The biggest outliers in our culture are not same-sex couples, or transgender people, or adoptive parents, or single fathers, but the so-called traditional American families themselves.

What does it even mean, at this hour, to call anybody traditional? Surely it is not the ways in which we conform that define us, but the manner in which we each seek our own perilous truth.

Pure self-indulgence of the most disgusting variety, and highlighted on Mother’s Day. I’d like to say it’s sacrilegious, but sadly it is appropriate. I understand why some of the most selfish, depraved men among us would want to relinquish their masculinity. In our society, women are free to pursue their heart’s desire without fear of sanction. Judging women for putting their own needs first is condemned in every mainstream outlet, from Dr. Phil to The Atlantic.

Some men are bound to be envious of this. Some of them go so far as to try to try to become a woman. And what kind of woman do they emulate? The worst parody of one. Gaudy, self-righteous, exhibitionist, attention-seeking, demanding, selfish and all too willing to place their burdens on others.

And in this great society we have built, it is they who stand at the pulpit and speak to the masses.



Let’s all just take a minute. Let your arms fall loosely at your sides. Draw a good, full breath, hold it a moment, and let it escape slowly from your mouth.

Okay. Are we good? Let me establish what I think are some parameters.
First off, I will never be able to educate Mr. Price.
Second, Many of you could probably write at least as good a response as what I am about to.

I am talking to those in the middle. The people who read that post and thought, “I can see both sides of this.” If you said that, I am talking to you.

I began this by writing a character assassination. It was disturbingly easy to find materials. But I don’t want to have to shoot every messenger who pollutes the world with this kind of hate. Thus, I deleted it.

I’d much prefer to appeal to your humanity.

Let’s start by establishing that Jennifer Finley Boylan is a person. She has feelings. She has a family, who also have feelings. One predictable outcome of Mr. Price’s insidious hate speech is that these people’s feelings would be hurt… profoundly. Who is helped by that?

Then we go out one layer to find people like me. People desperately trying to carve out a place in this world when the endless shouting of the W.F. Price’s of the world trying to take those places away… People like the ones who made this:

Go out another layer still, and find those who haven’t yet learned enough about transgender people to know what to think about us. Gosh! If it means male perverts in girls’ bathrooms, I’d better make sure those trans-whatchamacallits stay the hell away from my kids.

Which is just great!

In fact, why don’t we just round up all the transgender people and put them into internment camps, like Todd Kincannon, the former executive director of the South Carolina Republican Party suggested.

Oh, and remember that scary pervert in the girls’ bathroom that everyone is so scared of? Here she is:  Seriously. This is SIX YEAR OLD Coy Mathis. THIS GIRL, and others just like her are what people are loosing their shit over.

And, even if this was an adult transwoman like myself, we don’t have any intentions of causing trouble in bathrooms. We are far too busy being afraid for our own safety

Chrissy Lee Polis, 22, was viciously beaten by two teenage girls after allegedly trying to use the women’s restroom at the McDonald’s restaurant.

This may all seem like fun and games to you, Mr. Price, but I am paying for the real-life consequences of the hate that you invoke.

Too many of my sisters have paid a far greater toll…

In 2012, 256 transgender people were murdered because they dared to exist.


Nibbling Fine Chocolate While Taking a Bubble Bath and Having and Orgasm

That’s about where I am in my life at this moment.

…But wait, I thought you told us today’s post was going to be about the intersection of womanhood, motherhood, and birth.

Yup! That’s what it’s about.

In order to get from the questionnaire responses to my current euphoria, I have to establish the context a bit.

I have had to fight very hard to claim my womanhood. Given my transgender history, I will likely always have to fight to claim my womanhood. Contemplate, if you will, the insanity of having to do that in perpetuity.

I spent the first thirty years of my life attempting to cobble together a passable male identity by affixing ill-fitting scrap metal bits of the caricatures of men to myself.

I thought men were angry, so I was angry. I thought men were controlling, so I was controlling. I thought men were all sorts of awful things, so I was those things too. I presented a version of masculinity which was very much like nails glued to the outside of a cupcake. There was no substance to back up any of the behaviors I was emulating.

Nobody bought it, and, as a result, I was bullied (Very old posts about that here: and here: Take them for what they are, my thoughts from a very long three years ago.)

In the years after divorcing my first wife, I began to feel safer about letting the nails fall off, and exposing the cupcake reality. When I decided that I had to and could transition, I tore the remaining nails off right then and there.

This did not, however, leave a fully-formed adult woman standing there. I had to be a girl first, then an adolescent, then a young adult. This is an often repeated, if not universal part of early transition. A person transitioning has to go back and live an abridged version of what their life might have been like if they’d been assigned their true gender at birth.

I definitely feel fully formed now, but in any life, there are holes in a person’s understanding of the world. In my case, those holes are patched over with the mythos of womanhood that I retained from my years worshiping women from the outside. Part of that mythos held that pregnancy and birth are the quintessential aspects of womanhood. Before you judge me too harshly, consider how pervasive the ‘magical motherhood’ narrative is in our culture.

The other thing to keep in mind is that, in some ways I am a thirty-three year old woman, and in other ways I am only a three year old woman. In this case, I hadn’t had time to learn that ‘magical motherhood’ was not a narrative which was broadly subscribed to.

…which brings me to why today is glorious!

I have been able to accept so very many things about myself, and assert that my realness is not inferior to my cisgender sisters. Pregnancy was a hold-out, though.

I know straight, cisgender women who have struggled, and had to choose non-gestational motherhood. I also know other non-gestational lesbian mothers. Each of these people ache over it to some degree. But, at no point do any of them have to defend their right to be seen as female.

I was needing to be told that, with all that’s different about me, my abilities and limitations did not make me an outsider. That was what this project gave me!

Thank you all, from the bottom of my heart.

I got to feel like Babykiddo’s mom today.

I doubt that I have to tell you what that’s worth.

I feel REAL

I love you all so very much!





Women Discuss Motherhood (part 3 of 5)

In researching for tomorrow’s post, I asked some friends to share their thoughts on the nature of womanhood, motherhood, and birth. The answers were so interesting, I thought I would share them with you

Here are the responses, offered in random order, anonymously, and without comment…

Q: What are the differences in how you think it might feel to be a gestational vs. non-gestational mother. (The mother of a child you did vs. did not carry.)

A: I’m not sure. I’d like to think that, being an open-minded person, it wouldn’t matter either way. But part of me wants my own child. I’m really not sure since this is an option I’ve debated heavily.

A: It is hard to say. I have noticed some adoptive parents I know that seem to by trying to prove themselves over and over. Maybe has a gestational mother, I don’t feel like I have to because…well …there’s the proof.

A: Again, for me it would not be weird to have someone else carry, and maybe even to play a role in the child’s future for having been “incubator.” I would not personally feel like less of a Mom. I do not look forward to pregnancy at all. I dislike the idea so much that I am very open-minded about the alternatives. Too bad I can’t say the same for my peers.

A: I guess I kind of hit on this one above. I think it takes longer to connect with that baby, but not much! A mother is a mother! I do wonder if the lack of sleep/ loss of social life etc. is harder for non-gestational mothers. Pregnancy really does set you up pretty well for all of that.

A: I don’t think there is a difference –well – that’s not really true. In my case — when you don’t know if you will be able to keep a child – the connection grows stronger and stronger over time – there’s a bit of you that you have to hold in reserve….but from what I understand there are many women who don’t bond immediately to their birth children — and build the connection over time — so perhaps my experience isn’t so different.

A:This is a good question. I haven’t pondered it much, really. I would like to say there would be no difference, but I honestly cannot say for sure.

A: How can I possibly speculate? I remember thinking, at some point during labor, I just wanted the baby out and I didn’t care how. It was so tough, I actually worried I might resent him after he was born. Of course I felt no such thing. In retrospect, I feel like pregnancy was such a short time of his life. Just a blink of an eye, a blip on the radar. There is so much more to look forward to and explore with him, that being his gestational mom couldn’t make any significant difference in the long run, in terms of closeness and bonding.

A: I am not sure. Considering adoption to me was important, choosing to be a parent, choosing the lifetime of responsibility. Having one of my own from my own body, was simliar, a choice, a lifelong contract to take care of them.

A: Although having children in your life is always a blessing, I would place a different weight on children that I birth, in comparison with children that I inherited, adopted, or planned with a partner/surrogate who was the “birth mother”. I would love a child that I didn’t birth as my own, but I don’t think I would be able to escape the pride that may come from knowing that my biological child is 100% a part of me.

A: My mother was unable to have any children after me, so she and my stepdad adopted my little brother when I was already 17. I can tell you that I know she loves him just as much as she loves me. So, I think the only difference is actually the physical act of carrying the baby…. There is not that bond, but I really don’t think it matters when it comes down to it.

A: I have great respect for non-gestational mothers. Their want for motherhood is a powerful force that must overcome far more obstacles. Many women find themselves mother’s without truly contemplating how much or even if they want to be mothers.

Women Discuss Motherhood (part 2 of 5)

In researching for tomorrow’s post, I asked some friends to share their thoughts on the nature of womanhood, motherhood, and birth. The answers were so interesting, I thought I would share them with you

Here are the responses, offered in random order, anonymously, and without comment…

Q: What are the benefits and hardships of your ability or lack of ability to carry a baby?

A: I feel blessed to have carried both my daughters. My two experiences were very different, and special in their own way. There is a “hardship” in a sense of needing to be responsible with my ability to conceive. A responsibility I did not shoulder well in my teens and twenties.

A: I suppose the easiest answer is that there is an expectation that I should. I want to have a child, if I choose to, on my own time and in my own way. There is an expectation that since I’m a woman, and in a long-term relationship, I should bear a child. I’m not completely sure that that will be the direction my life will take.

A: I thought, with PCOS, the hurdle was getting pregnant. I wish I had been more aware and prepared for the complications that occurred (pre-eclampsia, IUGR, low milk supply).

A: I didn’t have any trouble once I managed to get pregnant, so I can’t speak to how it feels to deal with infertility, but I have some friends who did. It seems to me that being pregnant provides a mother with an instant connection to the baby. It’s harder to connect from the outside. I also think that having failed pregnancies makes it harder to enjoy being pregnant, at least at first, because of the fear of losing the baby again.

A: Having gone through a period of time where I thought children were not going to be possible, I can relate to the lack of ability. The hardship is just the sense of loss of something I thought I was going to be able to do. I had already experienced a betrayal by my body because of cancer and now no children. I guess I handled it though the same way I handled cancer….you just deal with what life gives you and make the most of it. BUT, since a miracle occurred and I was able to have children eventually, I can say the benefit is obvious…the love and satisfaction from having two great kids. There have been serious health, financial, and emotional crises to bear though. Most notably being pregnant and having children has been hard on my physical health.

A: It’s nice that I have the ability (therefore option) of carrying a baby myself, especially in terms of practical considerations like financial cost. Paying for other methods must be terribly expensive. I however fear pregnancy, and the disadvantage of being able to carry is everyone’s expectation that I will. Do I really have a choice? It wouldn’t feel weird to me for another woman to carry my egg fertilized by the father’s sperm, but likely he and our families would not be okay with it.

A: I had a VERY difficult pregnancy with my daughter, after having a miscarriage. My body is very different from having had kids. But the changes are not really problematic.

A: When I didn’t believe we could conceive, at first I assumed we would adopt, and that would continue that path to Motherhood. As I grew older/more mature, I decided it was ok for me not to have a child. I was working with about 15 children with disabilities each day, and that was plenty. I believe a benefit of my ability to (finally) carry a baby to term was developing a responsibility and bond to the life I had inside me. Being an egocentric person, I needed that time to grow as a person.

A: So far I have been pregnant 4 times, and miscarried 4 times – all around the 12 week mark. This was from 2007-2010. I have been too scared to try again, I don’t know if I could go through that heartbreak one more time. I’m still in a kind of limbo I guess, not sure if I will ever try again or not.. (I’m 32, I need to decide before too long!) So, the hardships for me are the extreme emotional toll, the stress it has put on my marriage, and on how I feel about myself as a woman. The benefits, I suppose, are that I don’t have to have that responsibility in my life.. something I was never completely sure I even wanted in the first place.

A: It was a hardship to not be able to have a child – and I felt a lot of guilt about being the reason we couldn’t. It was a horrible time – and I blamed myself for the losses — more than I should have. Are there benefits? Only that I don’t share a child with a man that I don’t love — no irritating conversations with the ex.

Women Discuss Motherhood (part 1 of 5)

In researching for tomorrow’s post, I asked some friends to share their thoughts on the nature of womanhood, motherhood, and birth. The answers were so interesting, I thought I would share them with you.

I had eleven respondents, so I will be providing all eleven responses after each question.
Here are the responses, offered in random order, anonymously, and without comment…

Q: When you were growing up, was the idea of being a mother appealing, and how was that opinion influenced by the notion of pregnancy and birth?

A: Growing up, I always assumed I would be a mother, and never considered another avenue until I had been married for many years and had failed to conceive. I had decided that it was OK with me not to have a child, but months later Mother Nature took over and she is now 14 (moral: if you decide its ok not to have kids, start using birth control just in case.) I had never given much though to pregnancy or birth. I knew some of the trials of being pregnant, and also had learned the ins and outs of childbirth..neither affected my desire to have a child. I accepted it as part of the job.

A: Absolutely, yes. I wanted a big family. Because of my PCOS, I saw pregnancy as this beautiful, sparkly, unobtainable goal. I had a highly glorified image of pregnancy and birth before going through it myself.

A: The idea of being a mom was appealing — but I’m not sure if I had a real thought about being pregnant/giving birth. When I got a bit older I was a bit freaked out about childbirth – but figured it was the primary way to get the child I wanted.

A: It was for a while, but became less so as I got older. I was the child of a very young mother, in a family of very young mothers, and I always wanted another life. I am, truthfully, terrified of being pregnant. I mean, I’m sure I could do it, I’m a survivor like that. But nothing about it sounds fun. I think I’d prefer to adopt, but with all of the hoops that are involved, I’ll probably just wind up sucking it up in the end.

A: Yes, I have always wanted to be a mother. I had long term baby doll games that I would play where I would feed them on a (rather loose) schedule and only play with other things if they were “napping”. This would go on for days. I knew that babies came from the mommy’s belly & how they came out, but I don’t think I knew that it was painful. I was fascinated by the idea of pregnancy.

A: I guess being a mother sounded appealing…like that’s just what you do when you grow up and get married and such. Didn’t give much thought to pregnancy, but birth sounded terrifying.

A: Honestly, I never really thought about being a mom when I was growing up. It just always seemed like something I was never going to do.. I can’t say that it was appealing or unappealing.. I didn’t have feelings one way or the other. I just saw pregnancy and birth as how new babies come into the world.. didn’t think much further into it than that.

A: I went through various phases of both wanting and not wanting children. As a young girl and teen, motherhood seemed almost inevitable. It was just what one did. My teen pregnancy brought the thought that I did not want children *yet* but that I would eventually. As a young adult, I did want children, but in an amorphous, poorly defined way. I feared childbirth and the pain involved. In my late 20’s, I had settled on the thought I didn’t want kids.. Then I became pregnant (unplanned again). I felt that my choice to have children was then distilled into this pregnancy. Either I wanted this child, or no children. I chose carry that child. I don’t feel that my notions of pregnancy/ birth influenced this decision much at all.

A: Being a mother was not particularly appealing, I don’t think the notion of pregnancy/birth had much impact.

A: The idea of being a parent and teaching a child about the world was always appealing, but of being a mother specifically, no, not ever, especially in terms of pregnancy and breastfeeding and constant care of a newborn. I did not play with dolls and pretend to be a mom; I played with Legos, tinker-toys, Lincoln logs and video games.

A: Growing up, the idea of being a mother was not necessarily appealing, but I expected it to be apart of my life. I never thought anything else of it. In this vision of having children, birth and pregnancy were never anything that I thought about or had any particular feelings toward.

Infighting in the Trans* Community

A few weeks back, Calpernia Addams, a prominent transgender activist, was talking about her difficulty with members of the trans* community as she attempted to cast a TV show featuring transgender people. It seems she was receiving emails and messages from people who wanted to make sure that her casting selections were composed entirely of transgender people who met some specific concept they had of what a transgender person should be seen as.

I remember well, when I was first transitioning, that some of the hardest people to cope with were other transwomen. For some members of the community, I was ‘doing it wrong.’ Really?  Doing it wrong? How do you juggle flaming chainsaws while blindfolded and riding a unicycle? Any way you can!

It wasn’t just early transition, this has happened to me even recently. I was at a housewarming party about six months ago in a mostly transgender crowd. Most of the ladies were extremely thoughtful to one another, and took efforts to build each other up. That said, there were a couple of my sisters who hadn’t gotten the memo to be nice.

One of the things a trans* person has to learn for themselves is which behaviors from their old identity are genuinely a part of who they are, and which parts they were having to embody in order to keep up the lie of being what people expect them to be. (Which is to say, which behaviors were just to prove their gender as assigned at birth.)

The ladies with whom I took issue (and, this is the first of several places where I will likely make angry comments happen) were still hanging on to the ugly competitive boasting which had likely been a centerpiece of their false male identities. This was absolutely something I had to do in my feeble attempts to be seen as male by my young peers.

I feel like I can hear you talking to your screen right now.

“But, cisgender women have ugly competitive behavior too.”

That’s definitely true, but I hope you’ll allow for the possibility that the two seem a somewhat distinct in my observation of their tone.

I do not know why people within this community, who are so marginalized, have the energy to both fight against the vicious discrimination that we face, and still have enough fight left to turn against one another.





On Parenting and Family

I took Babykiddo to the park (read: Disneyland) Monday. As I sat on a stone ledge watching her play in a forest-themed playground that seems to be her favorite spot on the face of the earth, I felt the beginnings of fall weather starting to show themselves. Fall and winter are my recharging times. The world gets quiet and still, and I return to myself.

I contemplated the last two years. I thought about how, when I first brought her to this place, it was with DW. I thought about how we were still trying to be something more like a family then. A great sense of loss came over me as I mourned the dreams I had of creating a family unlike the one I’d grown up in; one in which the members listened to one another and cared deeply, without being controlling. I thought about how I wanted to model a healthy kind of love. Powerful love, capable of allowing everyone to thrive, and feel supported and safe. Having a child is a permanent thing. I can either find a way to stay with DW and give babykiddo one family, or I can force her to have two.

It’s an odd model to follow, though. Not that it’s without precedent. But a family in which her parents are not in love (or even pretending to be in love) with one another is strange to me.

What may be the most sad for me is that DW may actually be making some progress in therapy now. After years of literally begging her to work out her issues, now that it’s too late, she may have found a way forward.

I regret having to wonder whether she had ever been in love with me, or had instead loved the fact that she could show off her strong, sexy “husband.” With so many people before and since seeing me as a woman, how was it that she saw a man.

An interesting dichotomy exists between the science-minded evidence-requiring part of DW, and her emotional being, which seems stubbornly opposed to observing and considering evidence. I think her early life taught her to insulate herself from the world of feelings. The feelings around her were often hostile ones, so it certainly makes sense as a coping tool. Many maladaptive behaviors begin as coping tools, though, and the challenge is to recognize the point at which we no longer need them.

Whatever the case, DW will never be in love with me. This means Babykiddo will not have the family that I wanted for her. I realize now, that I only wanted to be a parent in a great family. I don’t want this family. I don’t want Babykiddo to have to live like this. My deepest (and most shameful) wish is that I had never made these enormous errors in judgement, and that I didn’t have to raise Babykiddo in a family I can’t simply be proud of. She will be maladjusted in ways I could have and should have seen. It is enough to mess up our children through routine daily mistakes. I am not trying to model perfection. But it would have been nice to model something I could at least stand behind.

I don’t believe DW to be a bad parent. On good days, I do not believe myself to be a bad parent. But we are not good parents together, and there was nothing in the evidence I had to suggest we ever could be.

I guess I stubbornly believed lies too.

7 Habits

DW took an overview course in “The Seven Habits of Highly Effective People” today.  My hope is that this will be a launching point for better conversation that actually gets us somewhere.

In other news, I’m kind of having one of those points in dating (or a lack of dating) where you just have to stand back and giggle.  Dating is so rich with great stories!  I love it for that.  …and, right now, that seems to be enough.

I have found my way back into not really remembering what ‘madly in love’ feels like, and it’s better this way, for now.  Being too close to those thoughts makes me do stupid things.

Also, I wrote a very short apology email to the lady I left in favor of DW.  She was unduly harmed in the process, and I continue to regret that.  I have apologized before, but it felt important to reiterate, now that the dust has settled.

Be well, my loves!


The audacity… and perhaps, stupidity of hope

Well, my loves… I have gone and made a complete fool of myself.  I played my customary game of being far more attached than the other party, but this time I failed to notice the disparity.

SDB emailed me this evening and laid out that she had not had romantic intentions in meeting me.  Thus, at no point in all of my tripping all over myself whilst fawning over her did I have even the most remote cause to be doing so.

She explained that the difference seemed so broad that it was her wish to cease contact altogether, citing her fear that it might be hurtful.  I sent a cordial reply thanking her for the evening we had, and acknowledging her wish to cease contact.

So, I’m feeling completely embarrassed.  Mostly, though, it just hurts.  I gave this everything I had, and I just wonder how absolutely silly I must seem to her for having done so.

I wonder too, what the long-term effect of doing this over and over and over will be.  Is there a point at which I just decide that dreams are merely a youthful fallacy?  I hope not.  …That is, I think I hope not.  Becoming a pragmatist would likely hurt a lot less, but what’s the goal?  What would I ever be reaching for?  I have tried, and succeeded (out of necessity) in becoming at least reasonably self-sufficient in addressing my own emotional needs.  And, really, I hate it.

I want, perhaps most of all, to find that someone… that someone who will love me as hard as she can everyday.  I want to understand her implicitly and explicitly.  I want to give my heart to her without a second thought as to the safety of doing so.  I want her to be able to share my feelings literally and actually.  I KNOW this exists.  I have had it!

Yet, it is starting to seem more and more likely that I may not be so fortunate as to have it again.  The fact is, that finding someone to love a poly-trans-lesbian-married-incomeless-mom is probably just not feasible.  For, who could ever learn to love a beast?

I close this night defeated, but knowing that my naivety will stand me right back up to try to find love tomorrow.  Maybe it will be enough to know that someone out there might just want me, and maybe it won’t.  We are not, after all, guaranteed happiness… only the pursuit of it.

I will set about pursuing it more in the morning.  There is no rest for the lonely.

Am I stupid for having my heart broken by someone I met only once? …probably.  But I continue to want to be a dummy with a huge heart on my sleeve, and this is an expected outcome.

Do take care, my loves…. and, if you feel compelled to comment, please do so while showing respect for SDB… this is, after all, not her fault.

Be well


The end

Tonight’s dinner with Mr. and Mrs. BE was pleasant…  But it also made clear just how awkward that first post-breakup meeting is.  Now, to be accurate, we had seen each other one other time since, but it was under crisis-like conditions, and we were not fixated on the friendship at that point.

I fully expect things will normalize in time.  I do feel like I got some closure, though.  That was a benefit.  I think I held out some hope that they wanted to have dinner in order to tell me how wrong they’d been, and that they wanted to give it another shot.  Unrealistic, to be sure, but when am I ever realistic?

I came home to DW to whom I gave the Cliff’s Notes on the evening.  Kiddos are asleep.  I will not see stepkiddo again until we head out to drop her off with dad (and have dinner with a couple of dozen mutual friends.)

It has been a trying couple of weeks while she’s been here.  That has come to be the expectation.  We are the less favorable household, in her opinion.  That is a tough spot, but we are not willing to change our expectations of behavior simply to win her favor.  I think that happens a lot in kids of her age. I see so many parents trying to be their kids’ friend… bargaining as though on-level.

I am probably old school in my thinking, but I think there’s a natural division between child and parent, and I operate from that assumption.  That is not to say I advocate being cold.  I simply believe in a relationship in which the parent is in charge, and the child is not.

And I do not believe parents are really less hard-working than they have ever been, necessarily (though, I’m sure some are.)  This is a new world, in which the means of gaining compliance has to be done through conversation.  Our parents simply won the argument by being bigger and more able to impose their will physically.  I don’t, however, believe that gaining compliance verbally necessitates pleading with a kid to behave.

What a preposterous thing to see a mom on the playground trying to urge and beg her kids to follow directions.  Silly me for thinking the grown-up should be in charge!  And, the proof of why this is a bad thing is clearly evident in the current generation of entitled kids.  We seem to have lost the notion that pride is derived from doing good, and moved into a world where the second place trophy is as big as the one for first place.  Is it so damaging to the psyche to create a motivation to succeed? -sigh-

Anyway, all of that stowed, the night ended with three great things:

1. A friend of mine unexpectedly invited me to lunch and shopping tomorrow.

2. I firmed up that I will be picking up SCG from the airport on her return to Texas.

3. My awesome friend and role-model, the burlesque performer, wants to get together next week to show off her wicked makeup skills on my loveliness.

So, it ends on a good note, and I am off to sleep… I hope!  Midnight would be a huge improvement over the usual!


Love to all of you!