Big Thoughts Before Bed:
When I had my neuromuscular appointment, my Doctor said something that bothered me.
We were talking about our options for my pinched nerve. And the options were to continue with the steroid injections, but lose some strength in my left arm. Or go for surgery and lose some mobility in my neck. When I asked if there were choices that didn't involve either, he said "You're not a young woman anymore."
The options didn't bother me. It was "You're not a young woman anymore." And I wasn't really bothered by him saying it. I was bothered by something that came up in my head immediately after he said it.
"I was never a young woman."
I always trace back the start of my transition to 1997, when I was 23. But really, it wasn't a "here's where I flip the switch." It was the start if a "slide." I used my layoff from Swan Technologies to begin living, on-and-off as a woman. I ended up laid off for two years, and as time moved on, slowly spent more time as a woman than not. It wasn't until 2000, when I was 26, that I went full time.
"But 26 is still 'young woman!'" Yes. Yes it is. But it was at this point that instead of settling into the life of a young woman, I had to fight for recognition. Working with my job to see me as me. Trying to get all my paperwork reset. Trying to be accepted by the people around me. Friends were easy. The public...was not. Food was tampered with. Harassment happened daily. Being in public retail was daily harassment to the point that my job had trouble handling it. It was a fight.
The move to Austin shifted the fight. I had acceptance by the people of Austin, just fine. The jobs, however, did not. I lost a job to bathroom complaints. Another job lasted all of four hours when they realized I was trans, and I was blacklisted from temp work there.
I ended up moving out of Austin just to try to reset my life in the smaller town of San Marcos, so I could have something happier. I went to work, and my worked loved me. The people there loved me. And when work was done, I stayed in my apartment. Only going out for groceries, roadtrips where I could stay in my car, trying to keep my interaction with public at a bare minimum.
And I lived like that from 2006 until about 2012, where the years witrh Crystal, Lissa and Liz helped break me out of my shell. Seattle was more tolerant, and I could afford to do more. But at this point I'm 38. Still enough to be "young."
At the point I moved back to Austin for two years. And it was a fight all over again. This time it wasn't defensive, it was offensive. Trying to make my place in Austin and be me. I butted heads with my jobs again, but this time I had the answers, and the confidence. But it still wasn't a life...it was a fight.
And one I realized I was going to lose when I saw where the state was going, even if the people were so much more tolerant. And I came back to Washington.
2014 is when I came back here. Not an old maid, but certainly not young. I still faced harassment, but not as much as I used to. Nintendo loved me, and even the time away from Tableau was because of leaving (the first time) and (layofffs) the second. Jobs? No problem.
I was 40. "Young?" Not really. This is where the "over the hill" jokes start. But certainly not "old." I was back with Crystal and Lissa. But with all the fighting and the push back and the stress...I felt "spent." And in the end I spent the next few years out of sight, just because I felt like I needed to recover. Safe mode, if you will.
It wasn't until about 2016, at 42 I felt like I was starting to live instead of fight. Finally enjoying life, instead of fighting it.
I'm 49 now. Staring down 50 in a few months. And when I think of me as a "young woman" I don't see a young woman. I see a fighter, activist, soldier, and occasional punching bag, trying to be accepted as a "young woman."
I am happily a middle aged woman these days. I don't have much, but I'm happy where I am. I still have fight in me if I need it (as we've recently seen). But thankfully it's not needed near as much these days.
I was never a young woman. But I am allowed to be me, and that is enough.
