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  • Limiting Factors

    I would like to start approaching this blog like a weekly column, with each one having a theme. Have you ever seen Sex and the City? That show hasn’t aged well in many ways, but I always appreciated how it was structured. Every episode would feature Carrie’s column and how the events of her life informed her writing. I am a relatively young transgender professional trying to break into a new field at the age of 36. My goal is to work in the field of mental health, gaining a foothold wherever I can using the degree I already have. Afterwards, I will be able to work on getting my Master’s degree (hopefully in psychology) and work on researching various things that actually interest me.

    This week the theme is limitation. I feel limited by the circumstances of my birth, and my gender identity holding me back in various ways since the beginning of my life. I always knew from an early age that I was a premature birth. My mom told me that I was so eager to come into the world that I couldn’t wait any longer. I wanted to be born now! It was only this week that I realized this sort of thing can have implications into adulthood that cause difficulties for living in this society we have here. Various limitations around physical fitness and respiration, cardiovascular health, and other neurological conditions are linked to premature births. In many ways this has been the missing puzzle piece to what I’ve been trying to figure out for the past few years.

    Without going too much into my personal history here, it’s been a tough road. Life dealt me a tough hand in a lot of ways, even as I had a privileged upbringing in a small town. The first six years of my thirties I have been correcting a lot of things and aligning my lifestyle in a way that sets me up for success. I learned that I’m not into hairstyling, it pisses me off. Working on someone else’s hair not only brings me no joy, it feels like a punishment for not getting my master’s sooner. So that’s out and I’m working in a youth shelter. People there depend on me, but I do have limitations. I have a hard time saying no to kids, and get tired out more easily than others. My energy levels have been a consistent problem since I was a kid and I rely too much on caffeine to make up the difference. I know all of this, am painfully self aware and critical of my flaws to a fault. I know what I need to work on but my body and mind only come along kicking and screaming.

    In order to keep going, I need to recognize my own limitations and work with them rather than against them. Prioritizing and time management are of utmost importance. This is true for everyone these days, we are all busy. But I think my specific challenges give me an extra incentive to get on top of this stuff. Here we get to the point. It’s easy to see these difficulties as unfair, to bemoan my situation and wish I had things easier. The fact is, though, that I can learn to transmute these disabilities and challenges and use them to achieve more. To become unstoppable. A wise person whose blog I used to read hammered the point to me that “restrictions breed creativity”. When the challenges pile up and things feel impossible, it’s time to change your thinking.

    It starts with self talk. By now, I have clearly identified the problems and challenges I face on a day to day basis. I know how my brain works and what sets me off, what causes me to become paralyzed and “waste time”. Now comes the fun part – finding solutions. This is the year where I will start down a path that leads to becoming unstoppable. It’s not the year where I crash and burn because the pressure is too much and I can’t handle it. All of that is in the past, and I was fighting myself too hard. Trying to be something I’m not. We are who we are, and fighting it is a losing battle. My limitations are my strength because they provide direction – pointing the way forward that will lead to greater happiness.

    It’s already happening. What if we just stopped fighting our own nature and learned to be nice to ourselves? To honor our own limitations and still be happy with them, loving ourselves all the more for our flaws. The world would be a softer, nicer place to live if nobody felt inadequate and everybody loved themselves.

    Maybe that was the lesson I was supposed to learn this pride month (which was Not Good at all by the way…hope yours was better).

    Love your flaws as much as you love your pets. ~Joelle

  • Proud of Falling

    Greetings, one and all – and happy pride month. This is not a current picture. My hair was cut short back in 2024 and I feel like it’ll never grow back out. I feel like I look like a boy, and part of me doesn’t care. I have felt and increasing amount of dysphoria over the past two years and now I’m not even sure if I’m a trans woman anymore. I have no idea what I am, or who I am to people. It wasn’t always this way, and I started my transition strong. I knew what I wanted and I was determined to get it. But like a dog chasing a car I wasn’t sure what to do with it when I caught it. People accepted me easily early on. Even now I feel like it’s possible to navigate social situations that I find myself in easier than before. But what’s missing is the feeling of certainty that I am a woman.

    This pride month I want to reclaim a sense of who I am that was lost when I cut my hair and had a traumatic beauty school tenure. I don’t know exactly what that means yet. I do know that the queer community at large feels out of step with where I’m at. Right now, I’m not prideful because I don’t know what I am or where I belong. Talking to other trans people is great but it only gets you so far. A large part of this gender journey is internal, and part of me still feels like a problematic femboy who wants to say things to shock people. The need to self censor is real, especially in my line of work. I feel constrained by my surroundings and my community. I know that I am not the only trans person who feels this way, since a lot of us have become alienated from the larger “queer community”. What happens when all of the gender affirming organizations are run by cis people? I am sick of relying on cis folks I don’t respect or care for to do the right thing. When is it our turn to take control of our own lives and destiny? I believe this is what they call trans liberation.

    To me, trans liberation would mean that I don’t need to pass – don’t need to think about my pronouns, my hair, how I’m dressing (do I look femme enough today?), whether my interests are too masculine coded, or whether I will be called “sir” or “ma’am” when I answer the phone (both are shitty feeling). It would mean that I am treated the same as anyone else, without anyone calling attention to my gender identity at all (I am sick of giving out my pronouns at all). It would also mean that I would feel comfortable standing up for myself without being seen as a problem. I have stood up for myself numerous times since coming out. Every single time I am made to feel like I either overstepped, am being irrational and/or the person becomes so afraid to mess up again that they avoid me forever.

    None of this is new, but it is what I am thinking about this pride month. I am not proud of where we are or what is happening to this country. I am not proud of my own transition progress, and it’s been six years of this. I am not proud to be a part of the queer community because it is filled with people that nauseate me.

    What I am proud of are my failures. My scars. My battle wounds and dented ego. I have faced down layers of degradation that most cisgender people have never had to consider, and come out the other side. I’m proud of falling flat on my face and refusing to stay down. Being tripped by others who are part of this community and still finding a way forward. It’s not like transition and coming out of the closet will save us. The closet opens directly onto a staircase that winds ever downward in a spiral. Taking that first step blindly, you fall down down down until you’re flat on your face surrounded by some kind of Lynchian shadow people. You look in the mirror and see a cackling witch who has taken possession of your body, because you had no more use for it. Being transgender is acknowledging that the most basic thing about you was a lie, and now you have to piece together a life using the raw materials provided by genetics and the wonders of modern science. You will never stop falling and being pushed over by people who had everything handed to them right from birth.

    I’m soft. Physically weak. Muscles shrunk from the estrogen. I have failed at so many things. Fallen.

    That’s what I’m proud of…because I’m still not dead – and by all rights I should be.

    joelle
    joelle
    @joelle@joelle.snowebell.cc

    I’m a trans girl who is exploring blogging through the fediverse.
    This is a mirror of my blog at: joelle.snowebell.cc

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