When I began speaking about my transition on this blog, I spoke about the sisterhood I had joined and how much I was glad for them being there for me in ways so different from the brotherhood of men I had left behind. After a month or so of this, however, I began to realize how much I was becoming overly dependent on their sister energy that was far beyond the dependence which I believe most genetic women will develop because of their own experiences growing up as girls struggling for acceptance by their peers. I learned that while sisters will often be available to hold a hand or offer a shoulder to cry on, when it comes down to the nitty gritty of doing what needs to be done, a woman will wipe away her tears, put on her favorite bra and best poker face and take charge of her situation as if there were no other sister in sight to urge her on.
In a way, I knew this going in because I always experienced a tremendous energy surge within me whenever I “dressed up” in lingerie and went about doing my art or even just puttering around the house, a surge which I attributed to my female side. When I stopped playing at being a woman and actually became one, I now had access to this sisterhood which I didn’t have available before and frankly, I began to rely on the energies of these others while forgetting that the real energy to be the woman that I have always wanted to be came from within.
Today is a different day from when I wrote those first two paragraphs and I awoke after eight feeling tired and sore. At first, my mind is lamenting the loss of that energy I spoke of just last night and I finally realize that I am perfectly normal. After all, I went to the local public gym yesterday for the first time to have a fitness evaluation, to try out some of the equipment and then take a mile walk around the indoor track. The last few laps were hard but I made it. I staggered out to my car and called my insurance company to straighten out some medical claims and then returned to my motel room for lunch and a nap until late afternoon when I went to the first meeting of a governing council to which I was recently elected for my local Sacred Dance Community, that community of loving souls where I first revealed my desire to live my life forward as Deanna that fateful week in December last.
So, I’m not superwoman after all yet there is an energy inside which gets me out of bed and into some clothes. The housekeeper comes today so I must move some things about so she can do her job. I add some acetaminophen and a pink allergy pill to my daily cocktail of vitamins and hormones, pop some instant grits in the microwave and return to my keyboard. When I woke up I felt terrible and alone but now I am alive and well, eating breakfast, listening to my favorite mix of tunes on my computer as I write.
Once again I realize that I am the mistress of my own life.