And Now, Something Entirely Different

Frank has made a brand new friend.

As I have begun to shift from victim mode and emerge from the shadow of the troubled marriage, the separation and the finality of my divorce, I'm now beginning to shift my focus to others. It's like I'm Rip Van Winkle and I have literally just awakened from 20 years of unconsciousness.

My sensitivity to those around me is something that I used to have years ago. By nature, I love people...and I'm quite intuitive. I can tell when folks are themselves or when they are out of character...and when I get the opportunity to do so, I actually sit and talk with them to see if they open up and share what the dramas are that keep them awake at night.

About a month ago I met a gentleman. He's a man my age and when we met, I was basically whining about the fact that, at the time, I thought my divorce would never be final. He smiled and said that he was in the exact same boat and that he, too, was waiting for his divorce to be final so that he could move on with his life.

I then totally opened up to him....and said that I was gay and that this was just another drama that had to play itself out in my life -- one more in the very LONG list of dramas that have played out in my 25 years of marriage.

I suppose that since I told him something so deeply personal about me, he felt safe to disclose something personal about himself. As he talked, it becamse something VERY personal that I hadn't expected...something quite unique in the grand scheme of life.

He told me that he was transgendered: he felt like a woman in a man's body.

At first I was totally taken off guard.

I had never had anyone in my sphere of influence to ever have that situation to deal with and then to share it with me openly.

I was simply amazed.

He, like me, was married for quite a while....has three kids......and has been dealing with this for as long as he can remember. It turns out that I am the first person he is getting to know that is gay and he is the first person I am getting to know that is transgendered.

How neat is that?

I asked him if it is okay that I ask him some very personal questions....not to pry, but to learn....to understand.....and to offer whatever support I can. He has been so gracious and patient.

In some ways we are quite similar....but in other ways we are so very different.

For example, he loves the male species...and he loves being intimate with another man.

"So," I asked. "How do you know that you're not gay, but that you are transgendered."

He thought for a few moments then said, "I can't stand to look at myself in the mirror without clothes. I am a straight woman trapped in a man's body. I have been involved in a lesbian relationship with my wife over the course of my marriage. I have a deep need to have my body to agree with my inner self."

WOW.

While I have spent these many years whining about myself being a queer man......that's all I have had to do -- just whine.

In order for him to become who he really is, he's going through painful electrolysis treatments to remove hair from his face and other areas. He still has over a year left of these treatments. Once a month he has his arms, legs and back waxed. He is undergoing extensive therapy sessions. He begins hormonal therapy in the fall and must live and dress as a woman in the open for a year prior to his surgery. Then there is the surgery which is invasive, traumatic and a little dangerous.

Finally he must decide on what cosmetic surgery he needs in order to enhance what the hormones will do.

Because this issue is not as common as being gay, it is met with ridicule and people just don't understand. Folks in some places will undoubtedly make fun of him and he has confessed that he will need to develop a very thick skin in order to deal with all the emotinoal upheaval.

And I thought I had issues.

What he has to do to be completely happy in his life vastly differs from mine. I can only think of the old story about the farm animals who were caught up in an argument about who makes the biggest contribution to their owners' breakfasts. The chicken said with great smugness and superiority, "I'm the most important animal here in the barn as far as what I contribute to the owners' breakfasts. I give them one egg a day!"

"Hmph," the pigs snorted. "You're just making a slight contribution to breakfast. Our contribution is a life commitment in order to provide the bacon!"

The chicken shut up.

Well, in this story I guess I am the chicken. John is the pig. He's making a total, painful, irreversible, commitment to be who he is.

I am honored that he is my friend...and that he felt safe enough to share with me.

I also want to be there for him when the time comes to offer whatever support I can.