So I had my next therapy session today. I’m going to forewarn anyone who might read this: this post might get a little whiny.
Anyhow, Therapy. We looked over the pictures that I had mentioned in a previous post. I had mentioned before that I wasn’t quite sure what she wanted them for. Basically she wanted to look at them, see what I looked like through the years and she sort of expected me to be able to pin point a real moment for her when I felt like I was in the wrong skin. I guess “expected” is a bad word. I feel like I have a hard time looking back at the pictures and saying “yup, I was uncomfortable in my skin here.” We don’t photograph the bad moments. We don’t take pictures the days we feel miserable or broken.
My growing up was a constant struggle between me and my mom. I was the girl and all I wanted was to be like my brothers. She kept insinuating today that maybe I’m not transgender, I’m just rebelling against traditional gender roles. Which might be true if I hadn’t shaken that years ago. I realize that it’s her job to get me think of things that I might not have thought of before. I realize that she’s supposed to push me and break me and bring every doubt to the surface. I know that’s what I pay her for. I know in the end I’ll be better for it. I don’t think she’s doing it out of malice or even ignorance. I think she’s good at her job and she knows exactly where to push and what to say to get me thinking. So for next time, she wants me to write her something about how Tyler feels having to always look at the world through Christina’s eyes, and if I can’t find the words there, to introduce her to Tyler.
The problem with this, we’re the same person. It’s not “Tyler” looking at things through “Christina’s” eyes. It’s me… living in the world. The problem isn’t how I see things. The problem is how people see me. The problem is what is looking back at me when I look in the mirror. The problem is that when I look at people, sometimes I forget that they don’t see what I see. I want them to see what I see. I want them to hear what I hear when I hear my voice. I want to have a conversation with someone and at no point have them call me she or her. So I guess my next bunch of posts are going to involve a lot of me trying to figure out what to say. I don’t know. I feel frustrated and confused, but I guess it’ll get sorted out before it’s all said and done.
Until next time,