Wednesday night, I had what will be my last individual therapy session unless something happens that I need to process in another one-on-one. Feleshia said she felt as a therapist that there wouldn't be anything further to be gained from private sessions, and she had a duty as a professional not to keep me in something I didn't need.So, my next meeting with her is on the 25th, for my first group session.
I'm looking forward to group, really. The chance to meet others face to face and talk with them about what it's like will be good. What I find funny is that, of all my concerns, my biggest is how good a visual presentation I'll make. Will I pass in the eyes of those who have studied how to pass? After going out in public, being told repeatedly by my boyfriend that I look good dressed and even going shopping by myself at the mall, my concern is what?
How do I look?
Strange, isn't it? I can go to the mall without batting an eyelash, but when it comes to an environment where I know everyone will be supportive and helpful and no-one will be negative, only constructive, I worry that I'll feel like the outsider because everyone else is within the ideal of "normal."
I wonder if they're all sitting around feeling the same thing.
What I'd like, honestly, is one "ma'am" from someone who has no reason to say it. One "Miss" from someone who doesn't think about it. Right now, without hormones, it probably won't happen. It might never happen.
I'm willing to wait.
Last night started as one of those routine days that ended up becoming important not by virtue of any action of mine, but of just the events of the night. In Masks of the Illuminati, Robert Wilson has James Joyce utter words to the effect of, "Suppose this had been an ordinary night, four men sitting around drinking champagne and talking. None of us would have remembered it later. If one of us had died the next day, though, the survivors would have perfect recollection of totally ordinary day, not because of the evening itself, but because of its context."
Jason and I came home from work and grabbed a quick bite to eat, then I changed into something more casual and we went out to a mall over in Dallas to do some looking and windowshopping. I made the mistake of wearing new shoes to do this (I know better, I really do) and so I gave myself blisters on my toes as expected, and as we were leaving, I asked to sit down for a bit so I could rub my feet and look at my toes which were really starting to hurt.
When I looked over at Jason, he had that expression that said something was on his mind and it wasn't pleasant, so I asked him about it. After a bit of prodding, I found out that, in one of the stores we had visited, the salesclerks had been staring at me, exchanging knowing glances and laughing behind my back. Now, I had been totally unaware of this, and I suspect that if I had been in a position to see it, it wouldn't have happened. However, Jason did see it and he was upset by it. He'd wanted to say something but didn't think it would have helped, might've hurt and generally would've just wasted our time. He expressed disappointment at the status of things and said to me, "You don't deserve that kind of treatment".
Well, he's right, I don't, but I don't expect otherwise. As much as I'd like to be treated as a normal woman, I'm likely to forever be questioned, and I accept that. I was when I was overweight and trying hard to be male, only then I thought the problem was with me and not with everyone around me. Now I know the problem isn't mine, but I don't expect other people to change how they act. I'm being myself, and as long as they don't try to pigeonhole me I don't care how they act behind my back.
As we were getting ready to leave, though, someone did just that. A polite older gentleman walked up to us and held out little pamphlets to us, saying something like, "You two might need this". I took one, but Jason just stood there and silently stared at him until he started backing away.
I still have it. it's a little tacky two-color printed once-folded sheet with WHAT EVERY YOUNG MAN SHOULD KNOW! in bad lettering on the front, two checkboxes on the back for accepting or rejecting God, and some Bible verses in the middle. One of the cartoons shows a picture of some people standing around pointing and laughing at someone being bitten by snakes with the names of alleged sins on them, such as pornography, drugs, liquor and "queer 'civil' rights".
I'm not Christian. I've never professed to be Christian. If anything, I'm an agnostic with amerind, SubGenius and Discordian leanings. Nevertheless, I have several friends that are Christian, and on matters of faith we agree to disagree because we accept that there are many roads to enlightenment. This, however, was a blatant insult to me. Here was some person deciding, most likely on the basis of my clothing that I wasn't Christian, that I considered his advice important, and that I would think his attempts at intervention were praiseworthy.
In hindsight, the whole thing is funny, if a bit irritating. If I had made the same presumptions about him, he no doubt would have been highly offended and said as much, though perhaps not in front of the children he was trying to escort out of the mall. Maybe I should've made more of an issue of it, but what are the odds that I ever see him again? Negligible. It wasn't worth my time.
I checked the rejection box and mailed it to the address on the back of the pamphlet, though.