Because Gayle told me to

[morrigirl]

1) Reply with your name and I'll respond with something random about you.
2) I'll tell you what song/movie reminds me of you.
3) I'll pick a flavor of jello to wrestle with you in. (Management reserves right to substitute other substance.)
4) I'll say something that only makes sense to you and me. (Management will try very hard but not guarantee.)
5) I'll tell you my first memory of you.
6) I'll tell you what animal you remind me of.
7) I'll ask you something that I've always wondered about you.
8) If I do this for you, you MUST post this on your journal.

Comments

[gender-euphoric.livejournal.com]

Jay (yeah, well, you may as well try to get used to calling me that. i don't think it's going away.)

[morrigirl.livejournal.com]

1) Something random about you: Jay and I share the same brain.
2) A song/movie reminds me of you: In the Weeds - Michelle Malone
3) Flavor of jello to wrestle with you in: Why don't we just roll around on the lawn in the middle of the New Quad?
4) Something that only makes sense to you and me: Nothing you can say or do will ever make me sing the red neck version of "Me and Bobby McGee" ever again!
5) My first memory of you: Didn't I write about this a few months ago? I hate having to repeat myself. I refer you to the March 29, 2005 journal entry entitled "Love Songs" if you need a refersher.
6) The animal you remind me of: You remind me of a cat. The kind that has been living in the house for 20 years and is still really bloody adorable but also really set in its ways and knows it has the family wrapped around his little paw.
7) Something that I've always wondered about you: At what point did you seriously start thinking you were trans and how did you arrive at that conclusion?
8) Your turn chico.

this is long

[gender-euphoric.livejournal.com]

well, to give an unsatisfying answer, I don't think there was *one* point where I said to myself "yep--trans". Certain things stick out, like for instance one day freshman year, Libby and I were in the Giz, chillin, and she brought up how, after laundering them, I fold my jeans like a boy (i fold them vertically and pull the crotch out at the same time. sorta hard to explain.) then she told me i walk and talk like a boy. i doubt she'd remember this conversation at all. but i do. and then a few years later i was in an acting class in community college and used a stipple sponge to create a five o clock shadow for a male character monologue i was doing. my theatre teacher and two female students were in the doorway of the dressing room, and as i walked by, one girl said to the teacher "wow. he--i mean she--looks really good." and the teacher smiled, nodded at me, and said "amazing, isn't it?"
i always thought transitioning was something other people did. other people who are braver/crazier/less cowardly/less/more depressed than i. while i have my rebellious side, i guess, i've always played by the rules. but i'm tired of it. as i started to hear news of people i knew or used to know going through a female-to-male transition, i thought, well, why can they do that and i can't? and then it dawned on me that i was trans, and I *could* transition.
i was so sullen freshman year. do you remember? at that time i just desperately wanted being a boydyke to be the answer to all my sadness. it worked a little bit, but it kind of opened up the floodgates of "how masculine can i look/act/be?" and then i realized that i didn't want to stop at boydyke land. i've thought about this for five years now, and i've come to the conclusion that i may as well attempt transitioning. i couldn't be any unhappier, so making any sort of peace with myself, no matter what the price, would be worth it.