Greetings. This is the first entry in my little semi-regular love letter to the world. Not that I am filled with amorous intentions for all (or any) of you, but only that those of you who are like me – struggling to find a place in this strangely put-together world – have all my sympathy, and with sympathy we often find caring, understanding and (sometimes) love.
I arrived at this place indirectly: I came out 2 and ½ years ago as a transgender (“TG”) woman, and (as they say) “I have never looked back.” Now, about a year ago I suffered an attack of “Christmas Season Nostalgia,” and I decided to read the original Charles Dickens story involving Scrooge, Tiny Tim and the 3 ghosts (A Christmas Carol). When I finished reading, it had affected me so deeply that I decided to “reimagine” that old story with one of the primary characters being a TG woman. The rest – as they say – “is history” (although so is pretty much everything else, too, when you think about it).
So I wrote that book, and I will share it with the world, but there are other feelings I had and other observations I might have made, which did not fit conveniently into that old narrative. Hence this blog.
Now, with TG television programs on several channels, and TG celebrities crowding supermodels off the covers of fashionable women’s magazines, you would think that TG men and women will shortly be seen running things in Washington, or appointed captains of industry, or buying one of Donald Trump’s bankrupt casinos going up for auction. But you would be wrong.
No. Being TG is serious business. It is much, much deeper than just a pretty dress, expensive shoes, and a handbag made out of the faux-skin of some endangered animal. No, being TG is often a matter of life and death.
Many TG women have attempted suicide. Many succeeded, and are not here to share their story. And not a week goes by without another TG woman being murdered somewhere in this country. Or at least, it feels that way. And those are just the TG women who are made conspicuous by their death. There are many more who lose their jobs, or can’t find a place to live, or are disowned by their parents, or are assaulted or ridiculed in public.
So this is what my interest is. That aspect of our fate by which so many of us suffer …are murdered …or choose to die. Being TG is not something you can slip on, zipper up and accessorize. It is who we are, and how we live, and why we suffer.