I have been highly remiss and neglectful of you all with my shameful lack of posting here. It's not that I don't love you it's just that there always seems to be something else claiming my time and attention. Of course sometimes that will just be some rubbish television and a glass of wine after a hard day's work. And, it's not just this blog that's been suffering even my work is behind, what with a combination of mechanical failures and emergency storm damage repairs I have had plenty to do, if not a great deal of will to do it.
So, I still plan to manage a post or two on my experiences last month at the Festival Hall, and I have all sorts of garden related observations, and maybe even a comment or two about the just passed Transgender Day of Visibility. For now I will just observe that I was visible.
As I get on with life I am increasingly coming to the conclusion that being Trans is actually one of the more normal things about me. I am told that I am "so brave" to do transition, or that it must have been "so difficult" growing up. I don't know about any of that, it's just my life and that's how it's gone.
When we grow up we assume that we are normal, and that we are experiencing the same things as everybody else. Looking back I now understand that I had quite a comfortable childhood, but none the less one with little in the way of affection. I knew I was loved and cared for and just thought that I and my family were the same as all others. As we grow up and get to know other people and understand their situations we begin to understand our own better. Because no one else seemed to have any gender based problems it was only then that I began to think that maybe this wasn't normal, and that maybe I shouldn't talk about it.
These days with the internet and our increased interconnectedness we not only hear about the high profile transitions of Caitlin Jenner, Kelly Maloney and the like, we can also join fora and visit websites, read blogs, and find support groups. Once again I am beginning to find that my new normal, may be fairly normal after all.
Perhaps there really are more interesting things about me, I have found that a good way of getting attention in a conversation with the line "After I broke my neck", or "Well of course that was the third time I nearly died", I also suspect that there may be more trans women around than orchestral Bass Trombone players. Maybe it's time that I write less about what I wear and a bit more about what I plant, and where I play.