Random Notes: Joy and Darkness

Since I can't seem to trigger a good cry, I'll go with the second-best choice. I'll try to purge some of these feelings by writing them down.

-- Listening to the radio a few nights back, a favorite song came on, a salsa-flavored ditty by Kirsty MacColl titled "In These Shoes", about wearing a pair of killer heels. I was dressed at the time and began tripping around the room (the light fantastic, I mean), in my own 4-inch pumps. I spontaneously fell into a fast three-step with crossovers. I felt so graceful and feminine, and I wouldn't have embarrassed myself doing this in public. I didn't sprain an ankle or pull a groin (in either sense). Dancing is way out of character for me. When I dance in guy-mode, it's not pretty. Picture Al Gore with hiccups.

-- Envy is an ugly emotion. It is consuming me. I'm seeing so much success around me. Girls with courage and confidence, passing well, enjoying life, advancing their transitions. I'm thrilled for them. Really. And my comments and support are sincere and heartfelt. But I covet their success. I want to navigate this world with the apparent ease and grace they display. And I simply don't have the tools. It's eating me alive. Envy is so petty and juvenile. I should be beyond this.

-- My wig has come in! Her name is Heidi, and my avatar reflects a pretty good approximation. I've been into the shop to try it on. I love it. Store owner Pam is keeping it for now, stretching it out some, and she's going to trim the bangs a little. A real wig at last at age 44. One item checked off my life list. Now to wear it somewhere....

-- So about this strong desire to cry. I wiggle my hips as I walk; I feel an urge to cry. I glimpse my hairy arm; I feel like crying. I casually touch my hose-clad leg; I wanna cry. WHY? My therapist says it sounds like I'm grieving. This sounds right to me, but it begs the question: What am I grieving?

Maybe the realization that my male self is slowly dying. Maybe the difficulties in birthing this new creature called Leslie. Maybe the bell tolls for my marriage. It's probably some of all these. I just know the emotion comes over me like a wave without telling me what I should be crying about. If I knew the source, I think I could break down.

I came close Thursday night. I was thinking back to my first encounter with Leslie in January, the day my life changed. Likely the most profound twenty minutes I've ever spent. It changed my perception of everything before it, and forever altered my goals for the future. And now, almost six months later, I have not been able to share this critical moment with my life partner. Maybe I never will. That's a tragedy worth crying over.