First Solo Presenting Excursion

So yeah, I trekked across the CBD today presenting as female as I can. I did notice more momentary stares. And I know it was more my anxiety than being and danger. I did have moments that I forgot that I was presenting female, it wasnt exciting, it just seemed to just fit in with who I am. But already I can look back at that only hours ago and feel proud.

I need to find a better wide angle hold. Haha

my anxiety of the impending confrontation with my gp raged too much in my head for me to sit and enjoy the moment. Luckily the anxiety was mostly over by the time I got home. But laying in bed tonight im already feeling excited to see the changes that will happen to me once my meds arrive in the country. and to work on this disjointed feeling I’ve had my whole life,

where I felt but I had to check that I was doing “life” right. When all I needed to do was come out of the closet to feel like I can go down the street And be me on the outside.

A Letter to 14yr Old Me

 Dear 14yr old Davin,

Your confused about the world, confused about yourself and what it means in relation to the big wide world out there, that’s okay. I’m here for you. I’m here to share some future advice.

You just tried telling your therapist and parents something big about you. You accepted their answer at face value and terrified from what your therapist has said at being labelled as a sexual deviant and have to leave your family forever. Its okay to feel that way right now and you won’t feel like that forever. Growing up for you has been different than it has been for many other kids and that doesn’t mean your broken or can’t be fixed.

It won’t be long until you don’t have your parents controlling you more than you already know. Just try your best to keep out of trouble till you leave home at the earliest possible moment. Its okay, its not as bad as you think, it will take time to learn to be yourself. You may live with your parents for less than 20 years, but you can do so much more with everything you do in the next 20 after that, let alone the rest of your life.

I know you thought you could take this secret of being a girl on the inside to the grave, and that’s okay. But you will learn what you love in life and find the right moment to step out and be yourself, it may take a while, but don’t ever feel anything is too late in the day, the week, the month, the year, the decade, the life, to do.

Over time you will learn new words and emotions, unlock memories and be true to yourself, even though you don’t know who that is yet, just keep trying and its okay to trust your gut.

There is much advice I can give but you already know it, and please don’t scream at that. The answers make sense when you are old enough, and it’s something you learn that you cannot rush and be “more mature” It doesn’t mean you should ignore it either, do your best and you can sleep easier knowing just that in time.

After all advice, instructions and commandments people give, your journey in the future is your choice still and the right people will see that and those are the ones you will grow with.

You will love and be loved, you will be surprised, and you will be prepared and learn how to adapt. 

The best is yet to come, you’ll be okay.

Your Future You

Mourning for My Masculinity

 It’s a strange thing to say “mourning for my masculinity”, makes me curl my top lip in disgust to be honest. But it’s true. I feel a mourning for it leaving, I don’t know why my mind has chosen to feel this way other than I do.

Yeah, there are moments in my life where I did pay full attention to presenting masculine, and moments where it felt more natural, like a ballet dancer doing a well rehearsed piece, yet doing it on a sandy beach.

In the end, I do expect me to shed a tear or two over the end of presenting male, but not in a sad way. It has been after all how i have presented around people for almost my entire life intentionally. It’s not a facade, that is who I was then on the outside, and this is who I am now, and those two things are different, but still stories worth sharing nonetheless. 

I don’t feel ashamed of my male presenting side, I stayed true to myself in other ways of focusing on helping others, getting my hands dirty with the thankless tasks and still stand on the stage to inspire people to be okay to explore their own identity. and goals in life. I stayed as honest as I could be to others and keep myself transparent in other ways.

I do plan and hope to get closure over this chapter of my life that’s ending, but I don’t see this as a bad thing, I see it as setting the boat off to float away. Im smiling on the inside, thankful for the journey so far (it has been for most of my entire life after all, we all mourn the passing or leaving of the familiar in our own ways) but glad to now be starting this new chapter.

My First Gender Clinic Appointment

Not sure why i’m still surprised of being surprised of what to expect. Thought i’d be a total bundle of anxiety, not get a wink of sleep. but got 4.5 hours which is a good amount at the moment. got an uber, on time, no drama, got in, seen to quickly. and what i expected was a 15 minute appointment to set times for me to see specialists, became a 2 hour information dump in the best of ways. I left much more informed of what to do next. May have to save 25k for first surgery so that’ll take a few miracles and years of hard work but for a chance to stop tearing my soul daily with my dysphoria, definitely.

Still Terrified,

No Regrets.

Coming Out Of The Closet Again

 With a story about time travel.

When I was 14, I told a story to people, a “hypothetical thought experiment” to help answer a question, how do you seperate the mentally insane from time travelers if all they have is human-scale information (don’t expect a 40 year old to jump back in time 150 years and tell you when it’ll rain outside to the minute. In any century…). As typical thinking out of the box me, I thought of a solution to this problem while sharing secretly something about me.

If someone was to go back in time, and present-day me had to trust them wholeheartedly  and instantly, they would need some unique key, just like a database, or a entering a password. So, I would tell people that if i ever needed someone to do just that, to go back in time, all they would need to do is tell present-day me a secret, one I knew from the age of 14 and thought I would take to the grave till it all boiled out on this day. (this account written a few weeks later)

 I knew I was transgender at the age of 14, not in that way explicitly though; my parents ultra-conservative nature stopped me having a vocabulary to explain it well. But i knew my mind and in a way, my soul was not the gender my body was not, and had a desire to want to change that. Of course in the social bubble that a mormon family have, I went to my mother about how I felt. She aggressively defended that it was just wrong, and impossible. This led to my therapist shortly after changing tactics and asking strange enough questions for me to go out of my way to use pre-google internet to learn more and find out its about sexual deviancy and risk assessments towards sexually hurting siblings etc. There was other things too at that time that I do not talk about but suffice to say, i was so scared of being thrown in jail or worse that it literally threw me in the transgender closet for literally 20 years. 

I know i broke my promise to myself, but younger me would understand why.

By the time i was 19, and now sad to say, I was quite transphobic without even realising it back then, even though I was out as a very effeminate gay male. It took a special friend who was there from day 1 when my parents took me out of the family. Who I am still friends with to this day to crack that shell that gender and sex were separate, didn’t take much really than explaining intersex and the spectrum.

I tried experimenting over the years. I used to wear a lot of satchel/handbags in my late teens, grew my hair down to shoulder length when I lived in Beijing (locals were so enthralled by just the sight of a foreigner, they didn’t care if you presented masculine or feminine). I found some people that helped me explore a more external matching appearance in my late 20’s, just before I was homeless; never in a sissification or sexual way, just a chill in front of a fireplace once a fortnight and chat about the weeks events. This stopped suddenly of course when health and relationship issues led me to becoming homeless.

This was a turning point for my journey though. I knew at this point that I didn’t have to cave into pressure. I could stand my ground of whats true and not leave myself exposed. I never did come out to him, few months into being homeless, he cut all contact and got told by his father never to speak to any of them again. Yet the ripples of that moment set the rest of my life in motion, getting tired of putting others needs before my own wellbeing, I learnt a lot to have balance in my life, to not just devote every waking moment to helping someone or something, but its okay to do things for myself.

I changed my name legally to Taylor after being homeless, intentionally to be gender neutral and respectful to my biological family. I knew I had still a few more years I wanted to give it a fair go to repair things between them and me, but after 17 years after they took me out of the family at age 17, they were still freaking out over a name change and the morality chasm between them and me reached too much. I ended up breaking all ties with them at this point. I cant keep hurting myself by allowing them to hurt others like that.

In the fetish community work, i focused wholeheartedly to some peoples confusion on all-inclusive safe space and creation of events. Toxic members in the community even resorted to lying about me in front of me, claiming i had stolen and used his testosterone steroids. But i kept my ground, and didn’t let him choose when its time for me to come out. But sadly people took that silence as guilt and kept losing a lot of friends, they couldn’t understand how i was focusing solely on them and they tried to convince themselves I had an ulterior motive. And it is true, I said it on live radio in 2017 as well and its the same thing I said just above. I just left out how i was creating these safe all-inclusive spaces so i can also feel safe to come out of the trans closet one day and be the real me on the inside and out.

My Gender Journey Personified

 I walk across the room, the floor polished by the heavens starlight itself washing over it every night. Imbued with the shimmer of the air and the glint of hope from distant worlds staring up at us from their own dreams and aspirations.

There are pillars to a ceiling, white gleaming marble with an iridescent shimmer with the flow of energy flowing down around it. Every footstep placed made no echo as if the pillars themselves were reaching out to hug the air to keep all calm, yet not casting a glow around.

The walls were not walls, they were mirrors made of the reflection you see when you look close in one’s eye. An unease to look anywhere but down at your feet as you walk. If you tried to look forward too much, it looked as if it would boil and reach out. Looking up isn’t an option either, the ceiling was made of black cloth that foamed and contorted if you looked at it as if preparing to strike. I would keep looking at my feet. It never seemed like I was moving forward, or backward or left or right, just walking. 

I found an arrow on the ground, The shaft made of ash, The fletching from a hawk and the head of Orichalcum. Picking it up it was almost like it wanted to follow, the slightest push, tug, shake gave it enormous momentum. It was hard to hold, any sudden movements and it would jerk in that direction. Every movement had to be intentional as I walk, wherever I’m walking.

Over time, an indeterminable amount of time I found another. But this time it was the opposite, it didn’t feel heavy, but like it was always moving through jelly. I tried to hold both in the same hand, trying to negate the effects of the other. But my hand would keep bleeding so I would alternate and just walk slower.

Over an even more indeterminable amount of time. My eyes were blurred, tear filled. My hands red, no desire to let go, no reason to keep holding on though. Just a starlight shimmer you feel like if you stare at through the floor long enough you may unlock the heartbeat of the cosmos.

But I tripped. No time to gasp, cry, yell; but only a split moment to just, accept.

So I fell to the floor.

Before my knee hit the floor a hand came out and held my knee, stopping my fall to the floor but into the billowing white fabric encompassing me.In pain inside and out, confused of the suddenity of it all; took their time to adjust to their eyes to look up.

 Two arms, bound in cloth and leather was letting me go kneeling on the ground and stepping back. Her hands were worn, but the touch was fresh. Her gown was there but not there, a tidy form that seemed to wrap itself around here as she sat down. Her clothes had seen battle but were fresh, woven into the patterns of the cosmos as if sewing herself into reality. Her cloak settled behind her, revealing a pair of wings, but not angelic, these were battle worn as if they’d been through a tempest storm and with the same energy of these pillars. Still trying to figure out what I’m seeing, a flash of green and red was a hawk at her side sitting on a pole. The same feathers seen on the arrows. Beside this lady was a shield and a bow, these arrows must belong to her.

So I reached out my hands holding them both together, she seemed a million miles away but cloth enough I can reach out without bending. But my hands were empty. I look up and see she was holding them, her hands were bleeding, I look down and mine were not. So I look at her. 

You could see written on her face, a stoic defender who’s seen the battles of war but with enough warmth coming off her skin that she can put aside what she has to help me. But the eyes, blue, piercing, like my own how I look in the mirror when no one is around. It dawned on me that this was one and the same, dótti, valkyrja. A chooser of the slain, willing to help no matter what, she saw my battle and chose to save me, because we are one and the same.

So I turn around on my seat.

And stare at the fog, at the ready.