Update

Rather anticlimactic, I suppose:

Athena,

Yes, that is left field. For some reason you are being hypersensitive. I thought when Aphrodite was here the last time things were OK. You are an adult and you seem to be handling your life just fine. I do not have any questions that you need to answer and you do not owe me any explanations. All I can do is accept things as they are and I am glad you are happy.

Love, Mom

To which I responded:

You're right, things were better the last time Aphrodite visited, and you talking to her on the phone after her surgery was great too. I'm sorry if I'm being hypersensitive. I guess I just wanted to say, since my reaction the last (and only) time we discussed it was pretty hysterical, that it's not a secret at all (I forgot that I'd asked you not to say anything to anyone) and that it's not a 'forbidden' topic. If you ever do have anything you want to say/ask me, feel free. If there's nothing, that's fine too -- I guess I just thought that since it was such a major realization/adjustment for me, you might have some questions or want to have a conversation. Just wanted to put the ball in your court. :)

She never acknowledged that I'd written that at all, only moved on to discuss my grandfather, the weather, and other scintillating topics. Sigh.

In other news, I have strep throat. Thank you, pediatrics. I'd only had a mild sore throat for two days, after which it went away and left me with a debilitating headache, fever, swollen glands, and no appetite -- so I didn't realize that it wasn't your ordinary virus until I broke out in the telltale 'scarlet fever' rash on the fifth or sixth day of being sick. One of the docs where I work wrote me a script for amoxicillin, which is great except that (a) I choke on the pills every time I take them (they're the kind that 'float' in liquid instead of sinking, which for some reason I have trouble swallowing), and (b) my bowels are, shall we say, revolting. (Double meaning there.)

Aphrodite is also having problems -- she had her gallbladder removed in November and called me this afternoon in the throes of what seems to be a mild-to-moderate attack of pancreatitis (which she had when she had gallstones). I made her call her surgeon, and she talked to his advice nurse, who said that if she's still in pain tomorrow, she should come in to be seen. According to her pathology report, there were a couple of small gallstones left in the ducts after the operation, which "can rattle around for a long time", according to the nurse. We're hoping that's all it is and that it resolves itself overnight -- her illness, diagnosis and surgery was a seven-month emotional roller coaster that drained the very marrow out of both of us, and she's been doing so well since then that it's easy to forget she was ever sick. We definitely don't want to start all that again. And for all my medical experience and emotional stability, I absolutely go to pieces when she's the patient. I collapse into tears when I can't be right by her side, and act like a mama bear when I am by her side. It's sort of embarrassing, actually.

Anyway, I'm off to prepare for tomorrow's genetics presentation (on 'designer babies'). Just thirteen more days of school -- yay!

"Just close your eyes and jump!"

Well, I did it. Something about the springtime blossoming outside on my drive home gave me the nerve to finally gather up my courage in both hands and send this email to my mother:

Hi Mom,

This may seem like it's coming totally out of left field, but... I would really like for us to be able to talk about my 'orientation' now that I'm not confused and sobbing, LOL. The only time we discussed it was that conversation last year, which (I'm sure you agree) was an unmitigated disaster. :) Now that we've both gotten a bit of distance, I'd like to bring it out into the open again. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I want to answer them. At the moment, I feel like you're uncomfortable every time I so much as mention Aphrodite's name (which may or may not be the case, but it does feel that way). I want you to understand that this isn't something she dragged me into, but a part of myself that has always been there, something that I'd been trying to ignore since middle school. Financial and academic hardships aside -- emotionally, I'm happier than I've ever been, and I hope you can be happy for me. But for that to happen, I think we have to be able to be open with each other, and I don't feel like we're doing that very well right now. Are you okay with trying again?

I love you...

Athena

I wonder what she'll do -- if she'll ignore it, or if she'll write back right away, or if she'll show it to my dad (who accepts me and Aphrodite wholeheartedly) and ask what to do, or if she'll sleep on it, or... what.

Anyway, I'll keep you posted. But I'm glad I'm finally financially independent, on the off chance that I may have just signed my death sentence. Gulp.

The Limits of Gaydar

What do you think it would feel like to be stuck in the wrong body? This story got me thinking, and then a conversation in class on Wednesday carried my thoughts even further.

I'm in a lab group with an older girl (35-ish), Jillian, and a shy gay guy, Rob. Anyway, Rob 'came out' to us on Wednesday amid much hilarity -- Jillian hadn't been aware that he was gay, and practically fell off her chair with surprise, whereas I had known almost from the first day, since he'd suddenly gotten much more interested in me when Jillian asked if I was married and I told her the ring was from my girlfriend. (He was the one who told me about the sole church here in town that performs commitment ceremonies for gay and lesbian couples, which is something I'm keeping in the back of my mind...)

Anyway, Rob turned out to be a wealth of information -- one of the things he told us was that one of the other guys in our class, Scott, apparently began life as a girl (Rob's ex used to work with him/her prior to the hormone therapy). Scott does dress very 'punk' (plaid pants on the tight side, earrings, etc.), and definitely stands out, but I'd never have guessed he was transgender. He stood up and gave his presentation in class that night, and even knowing what I knew, it was really hard to imagine him as a woman. I don't think 'gaydar' goes that far. :) He's very thin, sure, and his voice has an interesting raspy quality to it, but nothing leaps out to sharply suggest 'female' to me. He's just Scott -- soft-spoken, one of the most knowledgeable people in class, always good for a laugh. Who he's always been.

It made me happy for him, that his changeover had been so seamless that even those who knew couldn't really tell -- and it got me thinking. What would that feel like? As attractive as I think women are (and as 'animal-istically' as I sometimes wish I had another piece of anatomy to use on Aphrodite... ;)), I've always known that I'm a woman, inside and out. As a kid, I hated dolls, dresses, and the color pink. As a teenager and college student, I played every sport there was. Yet I know, from some deep identity center inside me, that I am a woman. Even as I was in the agonizing throes of questioning my sexuality, I never questioned my gender.

What would it feel like to feel as though you were supposed to be someone else, trapped in a body that on some deep fundamental level did not fit you? I can easily sympathize with the idea -- after all, I'm trapped in a society that persists in seeing me as something I'm not -- but try as I might, I can't really imagine it, even superficially. I can imagine the emotions -- frustration, hopelessness, maybe shame -- but when it comes to the actual feeling of being in the wrong body, I reach the limits of my imagination and can't seem to go any farther.

Do any of you readers have experiences with transgenderism, whether firsthand or someone close to you? If so, I'd love to hear your stories.

((Side note: Aphrodite and I were repotting ferns at Gaia's house this morning, and I mentioned how my mother, emailing my sister about me and how I've been drawn into 'this thing with [Aphrodite]', said, "I would never alienate either of you for anything you do." Gaia stopped short, looked at me like I was nuts, and said, "For what you DO?! How about for who you ARE?!" I loved it. I've got to remember that line, for the unlikely event that I'll ever get to use it on Mom.)) :)