Friday, November 24, 2017

Decisions, decisions....

Hi,

You know those days, or even weeks, where nothing seems to go right? Well, I've had the good fortune that it's been quite the opposite.

Is this vintage yet?
After decades on the information not-so-super B road, fast broadband is finally coming to our neck of the woods! At Chez Jones, we're rather excited about this, so fingers crossed it all goes well on installation day next month. The kids pretty much stream everything they watch these days, and on to tablets, rather than the telly. We shop on-line; I work from home when I can, and Wee Man writes and completes his homework online.

Work has been challenging but my coworkers have really pulled the stops out to get stuff done. Yes, it took a while to get started, but we got a lot done once we could access the systems. Amazing what you can do when you just ignore the red tape. :-)

From a Chams angle, it was great to be out and catch up with the usual suspects. Pat was kind enough to arrange for M & Co to visit, so we had sales event at Chameleons. Also, although not specifically happy news, we did commemorate the International Day of Transgender Remembrance. It's the first time (at least in my memory) that we've done so, and we held a minute's silence to think about those that we'd lost, or who aren't so fortunate as we lucky T-folk.

For those of you with a good memory may remember that Little Miss was born nearly 10 years ago. She's growing up to be quite the character, and her sense of humour is really quite sharp. I know parents are supposed to be proud of their kids, but I think she's an awesome young lady: book-loving, caring, sharp, creative and fun.

-

Talking of distant memories, X emailed me the question following last week's Ask Me Anything post. They said: Not wishing to appear to be rude or trying to ask one of those questions that you can not answer; how did you decide that you were Trans in the first place?

Well, there is a question! I don't consider it rude. BTW, given the email address you put in, I'm guessing you've a Unix background? :-)

Anyhoo, I do remember being curious about clothes when I was young, maybe the third year of school. I may have been younger than Little Miss at this point. Eight, maybe? Curious as to why boys and girls could only wear certain things. That and it seemed expected that as a boy, it wasn't acceptable to show your emotions. Certainly not to cry, or show weakness. Emotions provided it was anger, were okay in certain boys' circle. But this *ahem* education was some of my primary school peers, and not the message my parents gave.

Before I was a teen, I'd borrowed skirts or tights from the laundry basket, heels from the shoe cupboard and tried them on in my room after bedtime. I had little clue what I was doing (so not much changes eh? :-) ), so I must have looked a sight. Still, we all have to start somewhere.

I did get caught by my Mum, much to my embarrassment, but we put this down to "just dressing up". It may have looked like that, but thinking back, it seems more about dressing to look how I felt. Then again, memory is a funny thing, and it was a very long time ago. The girls at school could wear pretty things and behave in certain ways, so why couldn't I? Given I didn't read anything about such behaviour, Mum's approach (I'm not blaming her, BTW), and what I heard from other kids; I soon learned to keep such feelings to myself. Ah, but they do things differently in the past, and the early 80s were not a time when the terms transgender, gender queer, or bi-gendered existed.

Skip into my teenage years -spots, hair, smelling, becoming more blokey - were tricky. It was around this time I think I can actually answer the question. :-) That's when I heard the word transvestite. A quick look in the dictionary and, well, it wasn't a perfect fit, but of you took 'pleasure' as feeling okay about yourself, it would do, and I tried not to think about it too much. For the most part, I muddled through those early years occasionally finding time when left home alone. In honesty, it wasn't great, but it could have be a lot worse. No-one knew, and we're talking pre-Internet, so while others must do this, I didn't know of anyone. It may have been that lonliness and struggling to understand why I felt so, well, 'in between', that lead to a spell of depression in around the end of my school years. But, hey, I survived, so it can't have been all that bad. :-)

Skip on many a decade, and as language has changed. Plus, I've learned more about myself, as well as being trans-something-or-other. If I had to pick a label, I'd pick just 'trans'. It's not a sexual thing cross-dressing and I'm not planning on transitioning. Instead, I'm in that in-between part-timer bracket. Yet, however I dress, I'm airways me. That doesn't change.

Thanks for the question. Oh, and if anyone else has anything to ask, there's a contact form here.

Take care,
Lynn




6 comments:

  1. By a funny coincidence, (supposedly) fast broadband is coming to my neck of the woods too, though unfortunately, I'm not feeling that excited about the prospect myself - mainly because our version of the Conservative Party is responsible for its "roll-out", and have apparently done everything they can to bollocks it all up. To make a long story short, our National Broadband Network was originally an initiative of the party currently in opposition, the Australian Labor Party, who, by all accounts, were actually going to do a proper job of it. Unfortunately, however, when the current party were (stupidly) voted in, they decided to sabotage Labor's planned NBN (simply because Labor had come up with the idea for it - very mature, I know!), and replace it with the half-baked hodgepodge of old and new telecommunications technologies that we're getting now. Those "lucky" enough to have already been connected to the new so-called NBN claim it's actually worse than what they were using before, with slow speeds and frequent drop-outs the norm rather than the exception. I can't wait to be connected to it myself! :P

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    1. Yeah, it's a big issue for a number of countries. It's been a right faff for the UK. I don't know how it's played out for large countries like the US, Australia, or places in Europe.

      Still, it is possible. Sure, running pipes for water and electricity isn't the same, but if we can do that, we should be able to sort out Internet connectivity.

      It just takes some thought and money... Oh. I'll stop talking now ;-)

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    2. Oh, that's interesting - that the UK has had a few hiccups with rolling out its own broadband network. From what I can gather from the news here, our own NBN rollout has been temporarily halted just this past week - apparently the government department responsible for it was getting too many complaints from households and (probably more importantly from a conservative government's perspective) businesses about the new NBN's lacklustre performance, to ignore those complaints any longer (though God knows, they tried!). I hope everything gets sorted out in a timely fashion. As you alluded in your original post, people use the Internet for so much nowadays - indeed, it's sort of scary how reliant we've all become on it. I don't use it for half the stuff most people do nowadays (Luddite that I am), and even I realize how screwed I'd be without it!

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  2. Re your childhood recollections of being trans, some of the things you said struck a chord with me. Like you would've no doubt done, I came to treasure those times growing up when I was home alone: something that never seemed seem to happen as often as I would've liked (having two siblings doubtless didn't help there)! I also used to wonder why certain clothes and other things were considered strictly off-limits for boys, and never accepted the pat answer I was usually given of "Well, they just are, so stop asking!" (I remember once coming across a pretty terrible website for those curious about cross-dressing which actually advocated giving this answer (or something pretty close to it) to any boy who wanted to know why girls' clothes were forbidden to him - apparently, he needed to be told that, as horribly unfair as that might seem, it was just the way the world was, and he'd have to learn to accept it. "Capital idea!" I remember thinking at the time. "I'm sure telling him that will be really, really effective - about as effective, in fact, as saying to him, "You can never play with [Child X] ever again!")

    As I may've said before, I was also fortunate to have parents who, for the most part, didn't impose standards of "toxic masculinity" on me. Admittedly, I don't think they were 100% happy with a lot of the "girly" stuff I did, though they probably gave me a lot more leeway than many other parents would've, especially as I got older. That said, what they were and weren't cool with could seem frustratingly arbitrary sometimes - for example, while my father never seemed to have a problem with me wearing pink, he positively freaked out at the idea of me wearing anything silver; similarly, while my mother never had a problem with the idea of me being something like a nurse or fashion designer, she told me she'd pretty much disown me if I ever became a drag queen!

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    1. But... the performance darling!! :-)

      BTW, is silver a difficult clothing material to carry off? It seems so space age!

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    2. It can be - indeed, some of my more "out there" experiments in silver attire used to elicit (generally good-natured) wisecracks about me looking like I'd just beamed down to Earth from a distant galaxy (or words to that effect); I'd also occasionally have people likening me to David Bowie, which probably amounts to the same thing! Given its space age, hi-tech connations, I'm actually sort of surprised it never really took off as a colour for men's attire (though silver jackets are one thing that seem to have gone in and out of fashion for blokes over the decades); indeed, for anything other than clothing, silver seems to be considered an acceptably "masculine" colour (just look at how popular it is, for example, for things like cars and the electronic gadgets so many men treat as grown-up "toys"!).

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