I remember seeing a post on Facebook a couple months back from some twitter sage. If I wasn’t lazy right now I might even hunt it down and put a screenshot of the tweet below.
It said “That thing I’ve been putting off two months took me 12 minutes” or something. I’m probably paraphrasing.
And I sure do feel that. I’ve been meaning to set up two blogs for ages now. Or more like 23 months. That’s how long I’ve been at this…. change.
And so here’s the one. It took a bit longer than 12 minutes but I did it in an evening, more or less. I don’t care for the theme, but it’s not important yet. I’ll find a good one in my own time.
So I guess I should start. I am Josie. Normally that would be short for Josephine, but in my case it’s short for Joslynn. That’s me.
I was born in ’82 and if you wish to know my age I’ll let you do the math. I am a woman. I am the parent of 3 children. I am a grandparent. And I happen to be transgender.
I have been transitioning for 23 months. I used to have a lot of websites before. I used to be a programmer and putting stuff like this together was my job. I hated it.
It used to be fun, once, but you get to a point where you lose that passion. Every once in a while, though, I’d get that itch to put together another blog. One where I’d actually take the time to post, rather than just put it together and then let it sit and rot.
That was always a problem for me. I’d want a blog cause I’d feel like I had so much to say, but then I’d never write. I never knew what to write about, or what to say, and when I did want to write something I never did because I’d always want to make it perfect. Make it poetic. And every idea I wrote about had to be a big idea.
If I was going to write, I had to write for some fictional audience I conjured out of mist and I had to put on my act for them. I had to be amazing. An amazing writer with amazing writing where every idea was so important, so big, conveyed so eloquently, with perfect prose and perfectly poetic. I never ended up writing anything in my other blogs because I could never find out how to polish my own bullshit. I’d just put them together and then they’d sit.
And there lies the heart of me. My entire life, up to 23 months ago, was an elaborate act. Me up on my bullshit.
When I first started trying to transition, I went to a therapist at Evan, or Evangelical Hospital if you want to know the proper name. I’ll call the therapist Dr Pepper. During one of the two sessions I had with him I was talking about coming out, and my plans for how to do so and I remember at the time a part of me wanted the very worst to happen. I said “my life may explode from this, and if it does, I hope it explodes magnificently.”
Dr Pepper seemed to like that. Exploding magnificently.
As I’ve been transitioning I’ve learned to let a lot of my former hang-ups go. Or at least I’m trying to let them go. Working on climbing down off of my bullshit. And hopefully this time will be different. Cause I don’t give a fuck about an audience right now. And because I don’t have to write in this blog. It’s not a task I feel I should be doing but pushing away and so I never need to try to find a way to come back to it. To have some grand post saying I’m back with huge ideas.
This blog is here for me to write when I want to. And the only audience I’m writing for is me. I’m going to try and climb down from my bullshit. I’m trying not to be fake anymore. This is just me. This is my blog. And I can be poetic if I want to. Or not. This is my life, exploding magnificently.
