Stardust

Nearly 20 years ago I turned by back on organized religion, and any belief I once had in fate or God faded with my youth. Recently I attended my aunt’s wedding and that was my first time in a church in several years, and definitely my first as transgender woman.  While I was excited to share in her special day, I had my some own apprehensions.  But it felt reassuring to be included in the event, and it was a chance for me to show my aunt how much she has meant to me.  It was also an excuse to buy a new dress. 

Cosmic

I was about four miles into a hot and humid run and my asthma was making each step and breath seem like a major accomplishment.  It was the first full day of summer and I felt it.  In the distance I noticed a young girl with a bright yellow top riding a bicycle towards me on the opposite side of the road along Goose Rocks Beach.  As she approached, it appeared she was riding erratically, as if she this was her first time without training wheels.  Her sun drenched salty shoulder length wavy blonde hair tousled from side to side. As our paths were about to cross, it suddenly dawned on me that she wasn’t riding a bike at all;

Gone Again is Summer

On the final morning of our final day at the Millay Colony for the Arts, our group of eight writers were meeting one last time. We gathered in a circle, like we did every morning all week, sitting at the dinning table to read our stories and solicit feedback. As the conversation turned to the business side of writing, I lost interest. Leaning against the frame of the screen door with a glass of water in my hand I drank in the lush views across fields of June grass and violet wild flowers. The colony sits on acres of land that border Edna St. Vincent Millay's former house and gardens. While I should have been paying closer attention to the discussion, my back and mind were tired, and my thoughts started to wander like I had done every afternoon for hours until dinner. During my adventures, I hiked through fields and woods, walked and jogged along dirt paths, and slipped, on more than one occasion, into very cold streams.

A Woman's Glory

In the fascinating documentary, Good Hair, Chris Rock's teenage daughter confronts him about straightening her hair.  This question opens a  window into the wonderful world of black women and their unique relationship with hair.  In the film, Maya Angelou is interviewed and passes on this sentiment, “hair is a woman's glory.”  For me, my hair has become a constant reminder of my transition.  It doesn't matter what hair I'm thinking of, it’s all of it, from the top of my head, down my arms, and all the way to the stranglers on the tops of my toes; I can't go a day without considering my hair.  Why? 

Waiting for Tomorrow

Amid the anguish and tears for the dead and cries for reform after a recent building collapse of a garment factory in Bangladesh that killed over a thousand innocent workers, emerged a faint plea for help.  Miraculously a woman’s voice was heard during the salvage of the structure, rescue had ended days earlier.  She had been buried for 17 days under the heavy concrete rubble, surviving on bits of food she found in pockets and bags on the bodies of her dead coworkers that surrounded her for weeks.  An astonished workman detected a voice calling, “save me, save me.”

Juniper Lane

Soon after writing and posting “My Story Starts at Sea” I got a call from my Endocrinologist’s office.  I just had regular blood work the week before and I was expecting a call with the results.  The nurse asked if I was taking my medication properly.  I thought I was, it has been nearly 2 years since I started hormones, but I went over in my head my pill routine that includes over 15 pills per day.  They are for a variety of medical issues, not only for my transition.  I have learned some trans-women try to speed up the process by intentionally overdosing, but not me. The nurse’s question made me curious about the results, were my estrogen levels too high or too low, or was there something else? 

The Kids are Alright part 4.

My story continues at sea... 

The joy of starting my journey to becoming a woman was beyond any emotion I had ever felt.  After taking my first dose of estrogen I walked to the ocean and stood ankle deep in the cold water.  I could see my bright coral colored toenails clearly through the sun-filled sea.  The water felt refreshing and I decided, despite the cool temperature, to walk out even deeper until I was almost submerged under the waves. But, I was still wearing my wig and worried it might fall off.  I imagined someone coming across a floating pile of hair and being terrified at the site of a middle-aged bald man-like person in a bikini, so I decided not to go under completely.