Women Born Transsexual

Thanksgiving is fast approaching and there are certain things I am really thankful for.

One is having good friends including some people I have never met in 3D and only know through this blog and Facebook.

I am especially thankful for those of you who made a donation a few weeks ago and helped us deal with an emergency that threatened to overwhelm us during a year that has literally been one of economic hell coupled with dealing with a house damaged by an internal flood.

I’m thankful that marriage equality is rapidly becoming a reality all across the US.

But more than that I am really, really thankful that being a person of the lavender alphabet has become so ordinary and banal as to become a hoo-hum aspect of people, something akin to being left handed or something like that.  Something shocking only to those bigots who are sustained by hatred.

It has been 50 years since the Berkeley Free Speech Movement.  Fifty years since the Beatles first toured America.

So much has changed, not all to the better as we are still a nation divided.

Now we are divided by our identities, which make us special.  We cling to those identities be they Queer Activist or Tea Party Christer, we live for the thrill of the fight and along the line we forget to live for the simple joys of life.

We forget the love of family and friends.  In some cases our families are chosen and not by birth yet the ties are as strong or stronger than blood.

Among some of my Face Book friends I am seeing  many who have moved to post-trans, post-activist lives.  Folks taking time to plant a garden, take up long neglected loves such as music or art.

Today the Polar Vortex brought a first taste of winter to North Texas, the days are short and soon will bring the turning of the year.

Old age brings aches and pains along with the cold.

Old age also brings the knowledge that often times the most important change you can make is the change you make to yourself. When I was an acid taking hippie we talked about letting go of ego and finding oneness with the universe.  Sometimes lately it seems that the Twitteratti Activists seem to think they are the center of the universe and that all revolves around them and their thoughts/wishes.

I wish them well, they are part of a brave new world order with constant connectedness, selfies and status updates.  They live for their snarky quips and think they are oh so cool and wise as they navigate their dystopian world, where value is measured not by what you actually do but the labels you wear and things you consume.

So the wheel turns and I count another year of sobriety. Another year and I discard that which has grown meaningless, only to embrace those things that once seemed important,  but were lost along the path of life.

I am thankful for the clarity of age and loss of vanity. I can embrace my somberness and silliness with equal joy.

I mourn the loss of friends who died way too long ago and treasure those who remain.  I value new friendships knowing full well that time will never permit them to last as long as some of the friendships of many years.