Have you ever fallen?

Have you ever fallen deeply in love?
Have you ever fallen so hard it feels like an anvil attached to your heart as it went?
Has the pull ever felt like a yanking from a black hole?

Has it ever been that the moment you realized that you fell so hard, this person was not available to interact or reciprocate?
Was it something you buried from view, hoping that time would simply make it go away? Piled under a friendship, hoping the weight of the friendship would conceal the edges?
Did you hide it behind a slightly diminished smile?
Do you find that spontaneity of pure joy to be guarded forevermore?

Did you cry so hard that a river began to surge through its courses, until the end of time?

Have you ever fallen?

I had.

I am open to the future,
if its any consolation.

-L

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Things I learned in 2014

…were all about ME!

What I mean is there was the most self-awareness and discovery making times.

I learned that my PTSD from suffocation is alive and well as suiting up armor for SCA practice. I thank my sibling who tried to choke me a few years ago for that.

I learned more about my useless family in the form of genealogy research that takes me back to the 2nd century Viking kings.

I learned that my concept of love and relationships was challenged to evolve from my previous experiences and practices. Love and interpersonal intimate friendships continue to strengthen and evolve.

I learned a lot about the culture of Burning Man without even going to the playa.

I learned to think before saying or posting things with more restraint than before.

2014 was really about me learning more internally than externally. A newfound self-awareness wouldn’t adequately describe it.

These internal forces were contingent on external nuances and such.

-L

Your Friends, My Friends

As I was getting ready for the most epic 3 year-olds fairy themed birthday party, there was a moment where I didn’t realize I had shifted from calling people that I primarily have met through my girlfriend “my friends”. Up until this point, other than my pal known as the sweet Earth Goddess, I have said “well your friends are having a party” “won’t it be cool to see your friends again?”.
I had stepped out of the bathroom with a ton of eye makeup on, which is rare, and said “the things I do cause I love my friends”. She noticed it more than I did. I figure that’s good and not forced or rehearsed. Friend making is really hard for me, always has been. Inside, I can still be that shy kid that won’t speak their mind. That kid is offset by the socially abrupt adult that will just blurt all kind of things out.

All of my friends are my family, and a tiny but beautiful portion of my birth family remain friends with me.
Its great, and makes me cry happy tears
-L

Reclaiming Reflecting Contemplation Completion

It’s an interesting space I find my mind and emotions in lately.
One could say that I was “on the verge of drowning in love” as it were.
One could say that.

I say things like, “I haven’t had the simple support and embrace from my world, outside of work, be willing, supportive, interested, and willing to develop nurturing and stronger friendships/bonds for this length of time in my life ever.”

Perhaps the accursed can have their hex broken, fates shattered, prison walls crumble from around their heart/soul/mind?

I believe so.
I also firmly believe that if something bad happened in my life, I’d still have an awesome partner & friends-that-are-family support network to my emotional and mental health-to the extent that I would hardly be scathed by the ordeal.

…….

I have started reclaiming some of my known heritage (rather than unknown and questionable) of my Danish blood in the form of language and cuisine. It’s actually helped me make a few friendships with people in lands as far away as Finland & Sweden to where I have found learning Swedish a bit easier due to similarities to Danish and German. Danish/Scandinavian Foods seem to help my digestive process of lowering glycemic indexes and making use of seasonal fruits and vegetables more so than any other cooking I have explored.

My guitar playing and seeking a band has stalled a bit, I believe that I will make a push for finding a band in 2015. Yes, it will have to be free of drama and something I can make some rockin’ tunes with.

As they say: “So many feels”

Skål!

LL

What’s My Age Again?

So I’ve decided to climb down off of my tree stump in the urban forest and write a bit about my age. How old do I feel versus How old do I look versus How old I am?
I’m 43 next month. I still get carded for alcohol, though I have been 21 twice at this point. Usually to some complimentary disbelief from the salesperson….

As I am a bit black mohawked and tattooed, I have decided to embrace my grey; however, the mohawk stays.

My peer friends closer to my age are what have really resonated with me, as the best way I could explain it. I wear a bra a lot less and rather enjoy the lack of restriction.

Being embraced as an equal by caring friends that basically are my family seems to effect me in very positive ways and have let barriers and walls fall, crumble, and even in time perhaps fade away.

Much love,

L

Why I Was Terrible At Being A Dad

If you don’t know, I *was a parent. At one point I made fertilization of eggs part of those things you can end up doing or such. *Yes I think fate can take that card away and create the status “was”.

My oldest child was born June 2, 1994 at about 4:30 pm. That day, as they were stitching up my wife’s episiotomy, immediately after my daughter’s first breath of life, my new baby and I stared eye to eye for what seems an eternity. As I feel now, and back then-there was something I saw of depth, distance, and life going outward in her eyes. They also said to me: “I’ll need you in my own journey.”

As our new family unit went along, my wife quickly raised issue that I was “supposed to be bolder and protective of your daughter”. I don’t think I am supposed to act like a “knuckle-dragging-ape” and really resented her. My daughter developed into my little buddy, my shadow. That ended at the separation when she was just a year and a half old.

So my divorce made twins from the most willing girl at my workplace. Fate would have us split, but the children were removed from her custody and I “retained” custody until a relationship and “instant family” with too many people involved caused legal problems and I had my rights terminated. During that “run” of being a dad, there were a lot of “Oh dad, why can’t you get it right” type characters on television and movies. I had my then lover’s mother telling me how to do this and how to do that.
After the children we’re removed and placed with Department of Human Services, I had the oldest-values-about-to-retire woman give me a list of requirements and such before they would consider reunification.
Needless to say….

But the common and central thing, as I did not transition until later, was this imaginary ideal of what you are actually doing as a dad. Every moment of your life, was everyone’s business to tell you how “fathers are supposed to act and be doing.” I loved my children, loved them deeply. As the world full of opinions around me finally collapsed, it took that whole role of simply being a parent away.

I started my transition within a year of being free of parenting obligations. The largest influencing factor of being “authentic me”, was shutting off of everyone who made it their business to tell me how to conduct myself.

So regardless of whether I hurt inside by not being me, I was even less me and was a terrible father because of nothing but people telling me what to do. As in any case, they should have invested more in themselves.

-Lexikat

March of Support & Show of Pride

Happy Pride!

So that time of year has come and gone in San Francisco once again. I’ll admit that this was the first Trans March I had walked in since moving here 4 years ago. It also was the first time someone has put themselves out in the public “officially” showing support of me.
(I’ve not had the fortune to have had a family member do such a thing, as I was pretty much shunned by blood and attacked, sometimes verbally, by the other.)

She, my girlfriend, stood (or rather sat in a wheelchair) with an intricately detailed sign. It was something that really showed the love and outpouring of support she has been willing to put into me.

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When she first showed it to me, it took a few moments for barriers to crumble down to the point of happy tears.
“Why has anyone ever taken this much investment into me?” was really apparent. Her outpouring and support does show in her pride in me, being who that I am, is something that doesn’t change.

Making the news was kind of cool. There were many people taking photos because of how “cute” or how “amazing” of a pairing/supportive couple we were. Photo link from SFGate.org The Chronicle. Photo by Craig Hudson.

The Trans March is a protest  march; it is for the open visibility of gender variant people, as well as a time to voice change, acceptance, support, and pride within this fraction of the queer community. There were a lot of people displaying support for Chelsea Manning among the march. Hand in hand were a few people displaying “proud parent of a trangendered child” signs and shirts. It was a really beautiful thing.

As we had planned to also do the Dyke March on the following day, exhaustion on both our behalves kept us from attending. (2+ mile parade route plus to and from the subway stations as well)

As for the “pride” of Pride, it hit me on a more personal level than I could have imagined before.

Happy Pride!

Lexikat