The Shadow Of Me - This Blog 1 Year Later
One Year Later
This one is personal. It's my truth, my side. Other people in this story will tell it differently, and they're entitled to that. But this is what I lived, how I see it, and where I think I'm going. Maybe it gives you hope. Maybe insight. Maybe a gasp or a laugh. We'll see. Keep reading.
I've written it here over and over: most of my life I was confused. Out of sync with myself. Out of resonance. Out of focus with the world, and never able to explain why. If you want the long version, it's in Sparkly Purple Bicycle.. and pieces never fitting.
The label for that is transgender.
Most of my family walked away when I told them. They couldn't believe it, because their experience of me was the version I let them see — the version that coped like a functioning alcoholic. I lived hetero, normal, presentable, and a wreck underneath. Nobody knew. Nobody wanted to know. Not even the partner I was with. I wrote about what that wreckage actually looked like from the inside in Why I Stopped Watching Transparent, and about how the family part landed in Family, The World, 33%.
It has been over a year since I started blogging.
In that year I wrote about divorcing someone I thought I'd spend the rest of my life with. Honestly? Getting out was the best thing that happened to me. She initiated it, because there was nothing left of me worth wanting — except maybe the money. And I would have handed over anything to keep the comfort, at the cost of whatever was left of me. I was sick.
I've kept transitioning since. Personally. Legally. Surgically — I've had my sex reassignment surgery, with a couple more on the books (boobs and face). I wrote up the whole surgical experience in Vulvoplasty Journey And Experience, for anyone walking that road behind me.
I am alone.
I've been honest here about what that costs — see Loneliness And The Universe, which I wrote on a harder day than this one.
And I'm not alone, not completely. When you have kids nearby who still need help, and one living under your roof, is that being an adult on your own? I don't think it is. So I deal with it. Loving parents do what they can to keep their kids safe and get them to orbit. Even when it costs.
It beefs me that my ex gets to have her single life while I'm still raising OUR kids. That's telling. I don't care what her reasoning is — the "I'm poor" line, delivered from a paid-off condo and an expensive luxury car, on top of half of everything I ever earned. Damn. Good deal if you can get it.
Still. Better than fighting a toxic person. Cut the arm off. Let them go.
I do keep a relationship with her. I try to be amicable. Sometimes that's fine. Other times I think I should move as far away from her as I can get. I see things now that I couldn't see before. She chose her situation, including how much of the parenting she wanted to be part of. Off living her single life and telling me more about it than she should.
The lesson, for anyone reading: let them go. Sever the arm. And thanks for letting me vent. Haha.
Meanwhile, the 2026 government and RWCN corruption are being fought, and I'm doing my part to resist. Religion pushed into schools. LGBT people under attack — most recently in Kansas, where the dehumanizing has a bill number. It's bad, and I've written about it here. SCOTUS is rotten, for all the reasons I've laid out. The GOP too, for all the reasons I've laid out.
So what's next?
I honestly don't know.
I don't want to date, and I'd still like a life partner. Both things are true. I need to move, and I'll be doing it in the next ten months — far away from my ex, maybe to a different state entirely. It's the right thing to do. I'm planning a trip outside the US, which will be good for me. I'll probably tighten down Facebook and the rest of social media, because it's a dumpster fire — no regulation, no moderation, and it's getting worse. And I'll keep fighting bigotry and hate. JK Rowling, looking at you. RWCN, looking at you.
So what's next?
Thrive. Course correct. Find connection. Stay grateful. Keep the toxic contained. Get a pet, maybe. Learn the drums — I already have the sticks. Study women's history. Help people. Embrace the life I have left.
I'm going to keep blogging here. Maybe not as often. Times are changing.
New here? Start with these:
- Hello Is Anyone Out There? — the first post, July 2025
- Sparkly Purple Bicycle — where I came from
- Vulvoplasty Journey And Experience — surgery notes, if you're on this road
- People Are Not Things — why civil rights are not abstract