8:51 p.m. - Tuesday, Jul. 16, 2002
Ms Leslie Hangs On by her Nails
I almost stopped writing here a few weeks ago. I felt it was dishonest to be keeping a diary that was supposed to be for me, and yet keep it sanitized so as not to offend or hurt the people in my life that I might write about and say things they didn�t care to read.
I think I�m getting over that. I wonder sometimes if I really need to be so concerned about people who don�t seem to be able to show the same concern in return. Take my mother��. Please.
She loves me to death. At least she thinks she does. She really believes it. For example, she absolutely insists that there�s no way she would let me go to Thailand for my sex-change surgery alone. She loves me that much. She�s going to go with me to take care of me, etc etc,
And yet after two years, she can�t stop calling me �he�. And she refuses to call me Leslie. Instead, she insists on calling me Leslie Blaine. I know that doesn�t sound like much, but it�s her very hurtful way of showing that she�s �trying� to be understanding and supportive, and at the same time demonstrating that there�s no way in hell she�s going to ever see me as a woman, or even seriously try. She just feel too funny calling me by the name that she gave me. The name that shows on my birth certificate� the name I prefer. I told her tonight, after trying every way I could think of to explain to her how disrespected I feel when she refuses to call me by my name, or to use the pronouns of the gender I am presenting myself in. I told her I am going to change my name, and that she is the reason for it. I�m going to change it so that she can�t evade the issue of calling me by my real name by using my more masculine middle name always at the same time. If I can�t be Leslie, I�ll be Leslie Elaine� never again Leslie Blaine.
And I�m going to talk about it, and write about it too. I�m too offended to try to protect people much longer.
I�m offended by my elder son who didn�t feel the need to hide me from his friends and co-workers when I was diagnosed with diabetes, and who didn�t feel ashamed of me when I was diagnosed with Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, but who suddenly became ashamed of me when I was diagnosed with another physical AND mental condition called Gender Identity Dysphoria. I�m offended and disappointed in him. I thought he was made of better stuff.
These people are my family, and yet they hurt me. I understand�. They feel hurt too. As if I�m living my life especially to make theirs harder. They feel hurt and deceived, confused and angry. They love me, or think they do, but the fact is they love the mental image of me that they carry with them and use to compare me to. My mother not only doesn�t see me as my own person, she doesn�t even get the concept when I try to explain it to her. It�s just plain beyond her. She loves me unconditionally. She tells me this all the time. She tells me just before she calls me Leslie Blaine. Is it me? Am I just being too sensitive? How long should I endure the feelings I get when I�m not recognized by the people I�m supposed to love?
Don�t say all my life. It�s not going to happen. I�ll be myself if I have to abandon every family relationship I have. I�ll be myself if I have to live and die alone. I�m really getting tired of trying to be patient and understanding with people who can�t or won�t participate in my life�. On my terms.
Which brings me, by the way� in a roundabout way� to one of the real blessings that comes from the TS experience. I�ll name and claim it tomorrow.
0 comments so far
�
�
