Come Closer

I was out recently and a man came up to me and asked what I was drinking. I told him, he wandered off and came back to me with a glass of wine. I thanked him and then turned to see his girlfriend waving me over to their table. I got up and moved. When I sat down, the woman said to me, "I've been watching you and I thought you were pretty, but I didn't think your face was pretty. Now that you're near me, I see you are pretty."

This really happened. I just smiled and thanked her, but was at a loss for any other words (what do you say to something like that?), but I guess I can find some comfort that I wasn't even more repulsive to this woman up close LOL.

I mention this story because people have often told me, about Chris's appearance, "If I didn't already know that he was trans, I would have never known." They also, constantly, comment on how handsome he is. I've had this same experience when meeting some of Chris's trans friends - some, I didn't even realize they were trans until well after I met them, some I knew were trans, but if I hadn't known, I would have never guessed.

There have been many occasions when I've been with Chris (and his trans friends) at a pool or lake, around strangers and, until he takes off his shirt, people may notice him, but not necessarily stare. It's when they see his (chest) scars that I've seen stares, some begin to wonder and become curious. I've never experienced any of these strangers being rude or openly judgmental, while they will whisper to each other - they simply stare enough that I become aware they are looking. There were times, early on, when this happened and I felt the urge to "defend" Chris, say something. I never acted on that urge, as I think I wanted Chris to be comfortable, have fun, to not have his identity questioned, not be forced to address strangers and their curiosity (or worse). If ever someone were to have said something mean or hateful, I would certainly have spoken up. Now, when I see people staring at Chris (and his friends), I feel more pride than fear for them.

I said recently, "You have to be a little brave or a little crazy to dress the way I do." I dress in a way that expresses my personality, a way that I'm comfortable, a way that, in many cases draws attention (like what happened with this lady and her boyfriend), and it's not necessarily intentional attention, while I am not opposed to occasionally triggering a bit of controversy. Mostly, I just dress the way I like because I have earned the right to do that. When it comes to Chris's appearance, I think he is simply trying to fit in without notice, without controversy, without condemnation. Having to have hidden his chest for so many years prior to transitioning, it is freeing for him to now experience and live his life where he can shed his shirt, feel the sun on his skin - he's earned the right to stand out or to fit in. 

Where Chris is concerned, I don't fear for him anymore when people see his scars, I celebrate that his scars are part of the process that brought him this far toward achieving happiness. I simply want to say to people who might stare, now ... "Come closer ... so you can see more clearly how beautiful he is."

It Hurts to Become

Chris has a tattoo on his upper chest that reads "It Hurts to Become". It's a line from a poem one of his favorite poets, Andrea Gibson, wrote: 

I Sing The Body Electric; Especially When My Power Is Out

This is my body
I have weather veins
They’re especially sensitive to dust storms and hurricanes
When I’m nervous my teeth chatter like a wheelbarrow collecting rain
I am rusty when I talk- it is the storm in me

The doctor said some day I might not be able to walk
It’s in my blood like the iron
My mother is as tough as nails, she held herself together
The day she could no longer hold my niece she said
“Our kneecaps are our prayer beds
Everyone can walk farther on their kneecaps than they can on their feet”

This is my heartbeat
Like yours, it is a hatchet
It can build a house, or tear one down
My mouth is a fire escape
The words coming out don’t care that they are naked
There is something burning in here
When it burns, I hold my own shell to my ear
Listen for the parade when I was seven
The man who played the bagpipes wore a skirt
He was from Scotland- I wanted to move there
Wanted my spine to be the spine of an unpublished book
My fate, the first and last page

The day my ribcage became monkey bars
For a girl hanging on my every word
They said “you are not allowed to love her”
Tried to take me by the throat
And teach me I was not a boy
I had to unlearn their prison speak
Refuse to make wishes on the star on the sheriff’s chest
I started wishes on the stars in the sky instead

I said to the the sun
“Tell me about the big bang”
The sun said
“it hurts to become”

I carry that hurt on the tip of my tongue
And whisper bless your heart every chance I get
So my family tree can be sure I have not left
You do not have to leave to arrive
I am learning this slowly

So sometimes when I look in the mirror
My eyes look like the holes in the shoe of the shoe shine man
My hands are busy on the wrong things
Some days, I call my arms wings
While my head is in the clouds

It will take me a few more years to learn
Flying is not pushing away the ground
Safety is not always safe
You can find one on every gun
I am aiming to do better

This is my body
My exhaustion pipe will never pass inspection
And still my lungs know how to breathe
Like a burning map
Everytime I get lost behind the curtain of her hair
You can find me by the window
Following my past to a trail of blood
In the snow

The night I opened my veins
The doctor who stitched me up asked me if I did it for attention
For the record, if you have ever done anything for attention,
This poem is attention
Title it with your name
It will scour the city bridge every night
You stand kicking at your shadow
Staring at the river
It does not want to find your body
Doing anything but loving what it loves
So love what you love

Say this is my body
It is no ones but mine
This is my nervous system
My wanting blood
My half tamed addictions
My tongue, tied up like a ball of Christmas lights
If you put a star on the top of my tree,
Make sure it’s a star that fell
Make sure it hit bottom like a tambourine
Cause all these words are stories

For the staircase to the top of my lungs
Where I sing what hurts
And the echo comes back
Bless your heart
Bless your body
Bless your holy kneecaps
They are so smart
You are so full of rain
There is so much growing
Hallelujah to your weather veins
Hallelujah to the ache
To the pull
To the fall
To the pain
Hallelujah To the grace
And the body
and every cell of us all

Andrea Gibson

Recently, Chris was somewhere and a lady asked him what his tattoo meant and he simply said, "It means what it says. It means, it hurts to become." The woman shook her head and said, "It doesn't hurt to become anything."

This is sadly an example of "privilege", maybe, or ignorance or a person that has only lived an entirely blessed and charmed life, because, if there is one thing I have learned on this journey with Chris, it is that there are not many people in this life who have not experienced the trials and pain of becoming something or becoming someone worthwhile or merely through a course of pure survival. And these words do not necessarily describe the process as horrific or maddening or impossible or even painful, I don't think. I think these words simply describe that most rewards require work, most journeys will encounter obstacles, most people grow and strive to be their best selves, but rarely without tests, transitions, transformations or sacrifice of some sort. 

One of the other things I have learned is ... be very careful when you judge any other person, because you never know how hard it is or has been or will be for them to become ...