Valentine's Day Posts

Happy Valentine's Day 'errbody'. For those of you who are in long or short term relationships, married or unmarried, I ain't mad at y'all.

A relationship is the one thing that has eluded me so far in my life, but on this day dedicated to love and being in love, I'm going to hit the TransGriot Time Machine and link back to some posts I wrote on previous V-Day's.


Valentine's Day Musings

Letter To The Ladies Who Loved My Twin




Wonder how our favorite couple is going to celebrate the day?

What Do You Mean 'It's Her Fault'?

"I don't think Chris would just a hit a girl like that. She had to do something or say something out the way for him to really hurt her," said Nika2hot on MTV.com

I ain't no Ike Turner, but, if I was in a position where it was either me hitting a woman or that woman hurting me, she's a hit chick. I know at least three guys who are now nestled in their graves behind not defending themselves from an attack by a female. And, for the record, I've never faced with that option, so I've never had to hit a female...PEACE. by BigBlackRod on Blackamericaweb.com

Let's not rush to judgment. Everyone's saying " how could he hit a woman?" Who's to say she wasn't hitting him, and he was trying to restrain her, I guess people just assume the worst in other people. by Mcooper6700 on Blackamericaweb.com

nick says: from socialite life celebbuzz.com
ill tack yo she a slut eny way u dont need her good that u beat the pop out of her

Before I get started on this post, I'm saying for the purposes of journalistic disclosure that I'm a fan of both artists, Rihanna and Chris Brown.

But what's pissing me off at the moment is not only the asinine comments that I posted that are just a small sample of the flood of comments across the Web that this unfortunate incident is generating, but this developing meme that 'it's Rihanna's fault' that she got hit, 'she's a slut' or 'she provoked him'.

Excuse me? The sad part is that some women are regurgitating this bullshit as well.

Bottom line is that I don't care how mad you get, it ain't cool to hit a woman period. That's something that men are taught from boyhood and I speak from experience when I say this. I was in a situation on the other side of the gender fence when my ex-girlfriend picked up a glass Coke bottle during an argument, swung it at me and fortunately missed.

As volcanically pissed off as I was at the time, I still managed without hitting her to disarm and restrain her until she calmed down.

For these folks flapping their gums about 'it's her fault' or the other foul comments I won't waste bandwidth repeating, I have to ask this question for the peeps who feel that way.

What if it was your daughter, sister, aunt, mother, grandmother or any female relative that was in Rihanna's pumps? Would you feel the same way? I'd be willing to bet if Rihanna was your relative, you'd be ready to kick any man's behind that put his hands on her or wouldn't appreciate the fact that her reputation and character are being trashed to defend him.

The story of what happened early Sunday morning is still unfolding and the truth is somewhere in the middle between his story and hers. But some peeps really need to check themselves about the breathtakingly sexist, stupid and insensitive comments being directed at Rihanna.

Damned If We Do - Damned If We Don't

In the wake of the Angie Zapata killing in Greeley last week, the debate raging in the blogosphere and beyond that has emerged since her tragic and untimely death has depended on who's doing the interpretation of it.

For non-transgender people, we've heard the ludicrous she 'deceived' Allen Andrade, so he was somehow justified in killing her spin on many comments. Some can't even get the pronouns right, or are doing it to be disrespectful or sensationalist.

In the transgender community, the discussion has been all over the map. I had two of my young TransGriot readers take me to task over the dating safety post I wrote Saturday because they felt in their words it was 'condescending to young transwomen' and 'insensitive to Angie's memory' because of the timing of it, even though that wasn't my intent when I wrote it.

One point Megan was correct about was that I didn't highlight the core dilemma of all transwomen who embark upon establishing a satisfying romantic relationship with biomen: to tell or not to tell.

We transpeople agree with our biobrothers and biosisters that the logical and sensible thing to do in an ideal world and an ideal dating situation would be to just simply reveal your transgender status at a certain juncture in the courtship process. In our intracommunity discussions we've agreed that point would usually be just before getting intimate with that person. By doing so, you would give that person the option of staying or going.

But in the real world it's not that black and white. The dilemma we face and the questions we ask ourselves are - when is that point? What will be the bioman's reaction when you do tell him you're a transwoman and will you have a relationship, much less be alive after you reveal that personal bombshell?

It doesn't matter when or where she tells him, once she reveals the deep secret about herself, she's damned if she does and damned if she doesn't. She's also putting her life in jeopardy if or when she does.

If she follows conventional wisdom and she's fortunate, the worst she'll get on the lower end of the scale is getting embarrassed if she's out in public when she tells him because the guy cursed her out before storming off.

On the other end of the scale that far too many transwomen experience, is a violent reaction that ranges from a simple beatdown to murder. That is consistent irregardless of the transwoman's age, ethnicity, social status or whether she's pre/non-op or post-op. Even marriage won't protect you if you make the revelation to the wrong person. There was a case a few years ago in which a post-op transwoman came clean to her husband and was subsequently found dead.

The other problem is that once you disclose you're a transwoman, as far as some biomen are concerned, you may as well wear a scarlet 'T' embroidered on your clothing. If you don't, they will damned sure create a virtual scarlet letter for you since they will tell all their homies and a few of their biofemale friends for good measure.

So even if you show up in the club one night looking so fly you make all the biowomen in it look like your ugly stepsisters to your Cinderella, you not only won't be getting any play from the fellas if just one biomale or biofemale is around who knows your business, but by the time they've finished spreading the news, in some cases you'll be getting dissed by some of the biomen and biowomen hanging out in that nightspot severely enough to make you leave.

So what's a transwoman to do who's not into GLBT clubs, who's looking for love but also wants to survive the process as well?

While there are biomen who do wish to date us, want us as life partners, and will be perfect gentlemen about it, there are others, the 'tranny chasers' as we call them in the transgender community, whose perceptions of us are colored by too much exposure to transsexual porn sites. Get one of them on a date, and they treat you like a porn star or an object instead of a human being with feelings.

If you are a Latina, African-American or Asian transwoman, that problem is even more acute because much of the transgender porn disseminated these days disproportionately features transwomen of color.

For a transwoman, finding true love can be as elusive as an NBA playoff spot for the LA Clippers. But even the Clippers make the NBA playoffs from time to time. The trick for us is to find that true love without losing our lives in the process.

And sometimes, to avoid living the rest of their lives alone, some of my sisters will take that chance. If they find a guy they like, they'll cross that disclosure bridge when they come to it.

So we're damned if we do tell- damned if we don't.

Safety First - Especially When Dating

So far this year we've had four transwomen killed. Ebony Whitaker, Saneshia Stewart, Simmie Williams and now Angie Zapata.

Outside of the common denominator that they're all transwomen of color, the other thing they had in common is that all these transwomen were under age 30. Two of the four, Saneshia Stewart and Angie Zapata were killed by people they were out on dates with.

I realize that if they are attracted to the opposite sex, that a large part of living a normal life for these transwomen so inclined to do so is dating. I and everyone who's fighting for our rights want all transpeople to live as normal a life as possible and I will continue to unswervingly advocate for their right to do so.

I know that my young transsisters are no different than young biowomen in many ways. Like young biowomen, some of my transsisters not only are attractive and stunningly so in some cases, they have no problem garnering the attention of the opposite sex. They also want to test their ability to attract their attention and wish to explore their blossoming feminine sexuality as well.

But if you're going to date, you have to be cognizant of the fact that as a woman, you have to be more aware of your personal safety since you no longer have the male strength level to defend yourself you once had. Once you start taking female hormones, your muscles start elongating to create those feminine curves on your body. That results in a reduced strength level. I'm 6'2", but after 15 plus years of being an estrogen-based lifeform I have the strength level of a strong woman my size, not a 6'2" male.

If heaven forbid, I'm in a situation in which I find myself trying to fight off an assault, if they catch me by surprise, I will have a hard time fighting off a determined attacker. So one thing I learned early in my transition is that like my biosisters, for my own personal safety, I must have a heightened hyper awareness of my surroundings at all times.

That is something that biowomen grow up with from birth. It's a new experience for transwomen. Failure as a transwoman to think about your personal safety 24-7-365 (or 366 in a leap year like this one) can result in being assaulted or worse.

The dating rules also change, and you have special addendums to those rules as a pre-op/non-op (or even post-op) transwoman. You also have to extremely careful about online dating as well.

While there are some biomen who are secure enough in their masculinity to enjoy our company and appreciate us in all our varieties and flavors, there are far more out there who don't wish to date transwomen period, pre, non-op or post-op.

Some of those biomen who fall into the 'don't want to date transwomen' category are emotionally insecure about their own sexuality. They are the ones who will react negatively, even violently to a revelation by you deep into the date, relationship or before or after sexual relations that you are a transwoman.

So if you're going to date, the best policy is to let your potential date know upfront that you are a transwoman. It is vitally important to do that if you like this person enough to want to start a relationship with them.

If you want to get busy with them, you need to tell them before you fall into bed with them. Waiting until he slips his hand inside your panties and feels a neoclit tucked between your legs is too late.

I was once upon a time a teenager with raging hormones, so I understand that things happen. I'm aware that a young or newbie transwoman has the powerful desire and eagerly wants to test her ability to attract the opposite sex just like some biowomen do. Some of it is because she really likes the person, some of it is for ego boosting purposes, some of it is because she sees it as the ultimate test of their femininity, and sometimes it's simply to get her freak on. Sometimes it's all of the above or a combination of the above reasons.

But just as our biosisters have to be cognizant of the fact that they could get raped or worse if they aren't careful about the situations they put themselves in, transwomen have all the other security concerns of a biowoman and more.

One of the things that a transwoman has to be aware of, no matter what her age, is that we face a heightened risk for physical violence and assault. While it's most likely to happen in a dating situation, it isn't always the case. Amanda Milan had her throat slashed seven years just because she was standing up for herself seven years ago at a New York bus terminal.

There are transphobic people out there who think we 'deserve' what we get directed at us violence wise or that we're 'deceiving' them for living our lives. That's what makes dating for a transwoman dangerous and can possibly result in you getting seriously hurt or killed.

If they aren't already, young transwomen, and transwomen in general need to start being aware of the fact that they must take common sense precautions in order to avoid being added to the 'Remembering our Dead' list.

That's not 'blaming the victim', it's stating a fact.

How Do Bugis Divas Grow Old?

TransGriot Note: In the 50's, 60's and 70's, the undisputed home of the most beautiful transwomen in Asia was Singapore. Ground Zero to find them was the various clubs on Bugis Street.

In the mid 80's the Singaporean government tore up the area to build a subway station. The reconstruction of the area put an abrupt end to the world famous nightlife that had evolved over the past three decades. In the process, Thailand became the Asian capital for transgender nightlife and as the Singaporean government discovered, grabbed the tourist dollars that came with it.

Here's an interesting article about some of the ladies and how they are gracefully aging.

DEATH OF AN AUNTY 'LADYBOY'
HOW DO BUGIS DIVAS GROW OLD?

We rely on one another, say transvestites

By Mindy Tan
June 30, 2008
from Electric New Paper - Singapore

IN the mid-1980s, she was a model, and then a fashion coordinator, and later, she took the stage as a performer at the Boom Boom Room.

Now, at 42, she says: 'Darling, those days are over.'

Miss Amy Tashiana, a transsexual, looks you in the eye and is perfectly open about discussing her life.

She said: 'We have gone through the extremes to get to who we are, fight to live as who we feel we should be. So it is natural that we grow over the years to become very tough and fiercely independent.

'In order for a man to come along to match that and share companionship, you need someone who is really, really big.'

Does that mean loneliness as they grow older?

Some of the first generation Bugis street transsexuals and transvestites are in their 60s today, like Mr Abdul Khalid Othman, the 61-year-old who was murdered, allegedly by a lover less than half his age.

One transsexual in her mid-50s said: 'When you grow older, sex is no longer important. Like normal people, we seek companionship.'

Some from Bugis Street left to open clothing and jewellery shops, but return occasionally to visit the 'sisters'.

When this reporter first met Miss Tashiana in 2001, it was at a talent management company. Then, everyone called her a diva.

But when The New Paper on Sunday met her again last week at a hawker stall, she looked very different.

She was tidying up the food stall, pushing a cart, with curry stains on her white T-shirt.

When asked how come she looked so different from her days of glamour, she replied: 'No lah, just helping my friend out at her stall for a few days.

'Still glam!'

She laughed, pulling at her cream-coloured shorts.

And she added: 'This is Prada, leh.'

So, was she once the queen of Orchard Towers?

She explained: 'Orchard Towers is a beginning for many of us. Everyone has a beginning when they learn to be a woman.

'Some were teenage girls in secondary school having crushes on boys, learning how to wear heels and put on make-up, and slowly maturing to become a woman.

'We don't have that luxury of time. So we jumpstart our lives at Orchard Towers, dressing flamboyantly, wearing every accessory we can, eager to show breasts and other assets. But that is just the beginning. Nobody wants to be there their whole lives.'

Where, then? With a man?

'After all the people I met in my life, I would find typical Singaporean men extremely boring,' she said.

'We would have nothing to talk about. I need someone bordering towards the extreme.'

There are those who find love.

Said Madam Fiona, 55, (not her real name), a transsexual happily married to a Singaporean: 'The men have to be very strong to stand for his right to love whom he wants.'

Some have gone overseas. In Europe, for instance, they find more acceptance in society.

Another transsexual, Madam Shanu Rekha, who is also in her 50s, is married to a European man 20 years younger. They live in Denmark with two adopted children.

Miss Tashiana herself has been single since 2005, after two serious relationships of three years with a Singaporean and an English man. Around the time of her last breakup, she bought herself a three-room flat in Eunos. Owning her own place is a dream come true.

It's a neat and cozy place, with dark wood furniture, where she lives with at least two well-fed cats.

She has paid off her breast implants and sex-change operation. And now, she is gaining in years gracefully.

Discos don't gel with her lifestyle any more. She said: 'I don't hit Zouk. I stay home and relax, go to photo exhibitions and art galleries. My health is the most important. I do intend to have a boyfriend but I am more fussy about letting a person into my life.'

There is no such thing as 'auntiehood' according to Miss Tashiana.

'I live my life to the best of my ability. Depression can hit anyone, even married women. If you go along with it, you will age,' she said.

She does not crave having her own family but thrives on the support of a tightly-knit group of middle-aged transsexual friends, much like how the characters from Sex And The City lean on each other and value their friendships as they near 50.

'And I am thankful I don't have to deal with things like pregnancy, menstrual cycles and menopause,' she said.

But like so many of the Bugis Street transsexuals who have gone overseas, she too is planning to venture abroad for love, perhaps when she hits 50.

'I just have to give myself a chic, short crop and I will look younger than most people my age in a European city. Singapore is too small,' she said.

'Look at the older Singaporean men looking for China women or going to Batam to look for mistresses.

'What about me? I can go to Europe, find someone younger than me by 20 years.'

Referring to Mr Abdul's murder, she added: 'Don't isolate him in his situation. The chee ko pek (Hokkien for dirty old man) exists in everyone. Not just transvestites and transsexuals.

'People mix with those who are younger to make themselves feel younger. You want to buy a product that's better than yourself.'

Transgender Marriage Rattles Mexico

Mario del Scororro and Diana Guerrero, a transgendered couple, prepare for their wedding ceremony in Mexico City yesterday. Mario and Diana are the first Mexican transgendered couple to marry in a public ceremony. The couple said they hoped media coverage would pressure Mexico's Congress to pass a law that would let people get sex-change operations in public hospitals and then be able to change their names and genders in public records.

Photograph by : Tomas Bravo, Reuters]


Couple Hopes Publicity Will Spur Law To Allow Sex-Change Operations

Mica Rosenberg, Reuters
Published: Sunday, May 18, 2008
(c) Times Colonist (Victoria) 2008

MEXICO CITY -- A couple who both changed their sex married yesterday in Mexico's first transgender wedding, as the traditionally conservative country loses some of its inhibitions.

Mario del Socorro, formerly Maria, and Diana Guerrero, who used to be Jose, held an austere ceremony for friends and relatives in a community centre.

The couple said they hoped media coverage would pressure Mexico's congress to pass a proposed law that would let people get sex-change operations in public hospitals.


They would then be able to change their names and genders in public records.

"When you are applying for a job and your documents don't coincide with what you look like, you just don't get hired. It's that simple," said del Socorro, 55, who is balding with a wispy goatee and stands several inches shorter than his new bride.

Lawmakers behind the transgender proposal are challenging a swath of conservative customs in largely Catholic Mexico, and in recent years they have been gaining momentum.

In 2006, gay civil unions were legalized in Mexico City and the northern state of Coahuila.

Lawmakers in the capital last year legalized early-term abortions and approved a law allowing terminally ill people to refuse treatment.

The Catholic Church has strongly criticized all of these measures.

Del Socorro and Guerrero got married under their pre-sex change names because the law allowing gay civil unions does not give partners the same benefits as a traditional marriage.

At the ceremony, guests cheered the teary-eyed groom and beaming bride as they cut two tall wedding cakes before a crowd of journalists.

Members of the bride's Catholic family said the couple tried for months to find a priest who would marry them in a church.

"At the end of the day, it's a marriage between a woman and a man, so what's the problem with blessing this union in the eyes of God?" said the bride's sister, Flor Guerrero.

Thinking About My Ex

Today would have been the 45th birthday for my ex-girlfriend Glenda.

She was the last person I dated before I transitioned, and I find myself thinking about her from time to time even though she's been deceased for seven years. We had a rocky, contentious relationship that put a major chill on our friendship for a while when it ended.

It was 1991 and I had reached a crossroads in my life. The only time I was dressing in male clothes at this point was either to visit family or go to work. I was kicking myself for letting another crossroads opportunity slip by when I was 19. As the 80's gave way to the 90's I had come to the conclusion I'd made a big mistake.

Enter Glenda. She and I were co-workers once upon a time, and I was feeling the heavy breath of my rapidly approaching big 3-0 birthday the next year. She entered my life at the time I was seriously wrestling with the 'do I or don't I pull the trigger on transition' question. She didn't know I was dealing with that issue since I kept it hidden from all except a few carefully chosen few people.

As I mentioned in my Valentine's day post, I was trying to avoid getting entangled in romantic relationships, but basically what happened to me is what Miriam Makeba said about the subject in her 1987 book 'My Story'.

Love has never cared about my schedule. It just barges in whenever it wants.

And it kicked the door down in this case.

One of the things that was causing the hesitation was that I was not only working in a place where I was surrounded by beautiful, college educated sistahs, I was getting increased romantic attention from those same sistahs. They saw my college educated happily single childless and gainfully employed self as marriage material.

I knew that once I began transition, that I was taking a 'good brother' as they saw me off the market forever. I began to wonder if I was doing everything possible to be a 'guy', and felt that maybe the key to some of my troubles was that I was avoiding romantic entanglements.

And I had to admit that Glenda had a lot of the qualities "the Twin' was looking for. She was a PK, intelligent (we both went to UH at the same time but didn't cross paths there), a sports fanatic, breathtakingly beautiful with supermodel looks, was proud of and cognizant of our history, and was just short of six feet tall at 5'11" with long, shapely legs.

But at the time I was gradually making moves to begin transition and had even started taking hormones. I tried to keep our interactions at 'just friends' level but she wanted more.

Then love barged in and we spent the next two tumultuous years together. The relationship got off to a rocky start because she wasn't honest about being a divorced mother with a teenage child, I didn't tell her about my gender issues and both of us found out about the other's big secret AFTER we fell into bed.

Long story short, two years later the relationship collapsed. When you wake up looking at a woman with a caramel brown complexion so flawless she only wore lipstick and mascara and barely wore makeup, has a curvy 38-25-38 body that allows her to wear a burlap sack and make it look fashion forward and sexy, and you have you own gender issues it breeds jealously.

She had her own demons and insecurities, exacerbated by her desires to have another child with 'The Twin' as the baby daddy. It also doesn't help your own sense of femininity if you're dating someone who also looks as good wearing a dress and heels as you do and you are occasionally borrowing panty hose from the 'brother' you want to father your next child.

When we broke up I came home from work that evening to find out she'd walked with half the stuff in my apartment, including a stereo that I'd owned since the early 80's that had sentimental value for me. I'd bought it from earnings with my first job. She'd also slashed my uniform jackets. It guaranteed that the bitterness I harbored over all the arguments, lack of closure and the night she swung a glass Coke bottle at my head (and fortunately missed) wouldn't go away for a while.

But I do have to give her credit. Being with Glenda wasn't all bad, it was fun at times. She was affectionate and loving when she wanted to be, she gave me a run for my money when we fired off sports trivia questions at each other, and had a wild sense of humor. After she discovered my stash of femme clothes early in our relationship and point blank called me on my transgender issues, she helped me with my presentation and makeup issues, got me more comfortable in going out in the big cruel world out there, went on a few forays into Montrose with me, and basically told me on numerous occasions (even though she was less than pleasant about it when she said it during one argument) that I was more feminine than she was.

That relationship also emphatically drove home the point that I was on the wrong side of the gender fence and needed to correct it ASAP.

The Cold War between us lasted until 1998. One day Glenda surprised me by pulling me aside in the crew lounge and told me that she was sorry for all the negative things that happened during our relationship. She said she missed our friendship and wanted to repair it. I discovered that some of her co-workers blamed her for my transition and were giving her the cold shoulder as a result. It took us a while, but we eventually got back to the communication and friendship level we were at before our ill-fated relationship.

I remember the last time I saw her like yesterday. It was Thursday, March 15, 2001 and I was getting my hair done at Sadat's shop when she walked in. We exchanged greetings and then she asked me to give her a hug, which I did.

She proceeded to tell me that she was having pain in her abdomen area, had it checked out by a doctor friend of hers but he couldn't find anything wrong. I told her she needed to get a second opinion. She said she was planning to see another doctor after she flew a two day trip she had scheduled starting the next day.

That Sunday night something told me to call her, but I changed my mind and decided I'd call Glenda on her birthday which was coming Tuesday.

I never got the opportunity to deliver that birthday greeting. Monday night I received a tearful phone call from her homegirl DeAndria informing me that she was dead. She'd been found collapsed on the bathroom floor of her apartment and the subsequent autopsy confirmed what I suspected was wrong when I talked to her in the shop.

Her appendix ruptured.

I didn't go to the funeral. I was still reeling from my involuntary separation from the airline after 14 years a month earlier (which I found out later was initiated by a right-wing Republican state legislator) and wasn't ready to face all my former co-workers yet who were traveling to her hometown for the funeral.

There are days when I think about her, I wonder if she'd still be alive if I'd followed my instincts and called her on that fateful Sunday night.

One of these days when I go back home I'll travel there, head to the cemetery where she's resting and say my goodbyes.

Letter To The Ladies Who Loved My 'Twin'

Dear Ladies,
Today finds me in introspective mode thinking about all of you, wondering how your lives are progressing and if you eventually found someone to share your lives with.

I know that some of you considered me for that role in my pretransition life. You were attracted to some of the qualities, the intelligence and values that make me the person I am and wanted to get to know me on another level.

And yeah, some of you thought I was handsome, too.

As some of you may (or may not) know I transitioned back in 1994. One of the major reasons I finally made that move besides the internal gender conflicts I'd been battling for years became intolerable, was the fact that I was starting to get major hints from several of you, your friends, and even your parents in some cases that considered my 'twin' marriage material.

While I have no doubts about whether I could have made any of you happy had a relationship progressed to that level, I'd reached a point in which I couldn't stomach being a 'guy' one more second. The way I saw it at the time, there was no point in me getting into a relationship in which the final outcome would be you or both of us getting hurt. I definitely didn't want to bring a child into this situation either. I know all too well how cruel other kids can be when it comes to someone that has a situation that isn't perceived as 'normal'.

That's why I pushed many of you away, or seemed noncommittal about taking our friendships to the next level or in some cases even getting intimate with some of you despite raging testosterone.

Yeah, I know that sounds selfish. Maybe I should have explained where my head was at during that time. But how could I explain something that I didn't quite have a grasp on myself, much less was in severe denial about?

But that's neither here or there. The bottom line is that I should have let y'all determine whether my 'twin' was worthy of your time, your body and your love. Because I didn't give you that opportunity, I apologize to all of you.

I do have to thank those of you ladies who cut my 'twin' loose when I was trying to play 'boy'. I didn't want to admit it at the time, but I'm thankful that some of y'all were point blank honest with me.

Some of you told me that being with my 'twin' was like being with one of your girlfriends. Others of you commented about it in less than complimentary ways that deeply hurt my feelings. Some of you just simply sensed the confusion and inner turmoil I was going through and simply let me go.

In the end, those of you who loved me enough to be real with me were right. I had to transition sooner or later to be the best person I could be. What several of you said almost unanimously and in your own ways after you discovered I'd transitioned was right on target. I was never a guy, I only played one for public consumption.

Thanks for loving me enough to help me see that, and Happy Valentine's Day to all of you.


Love always,
Monica

Valentine's Day Musings

TransGriot Note: photo of the painting 'In The Garden' by Keith Mallett

Happy Valentine's Day everybody!

Like most people I'm part of that percentage of the population that is single. It's not that I choose to be, I just am.

I'm a bit of a romantic, and that's the toughest part of being single on Valentine's Day. Enduring the endless commercials that are pushing jewelry, candy, flowers, et cetera. The romantic movies that get dusted off and broadcast. Ironically I was up until 2 AM this morning reading a Kayla Perrin romance novel and spent most of yesterday afternoon writing my own.

One of the things that I factored into my decision to go ahead with transition was the fact that I could possibly be spending a lot of Valentine's days alone. But I love myself far too much to allow myself to wallow in the unhappiness that was part of my life prior to transition.

Maybe there is a special person out there for me, maybe not. I'm not gonna lose any sleep over it. I know what's it's like to be in love, albeit from the other side of the gender fence. It's one of the hard facts of being transgender that love isn't any easier to find or deal with than some of the other life issues we grapple with. We all realize that it is gonna take someone that is secure and confident in their personality and their own lives to love us. That love is tougher to find when the genitalia between your legs doesn't match up with the rest of your gender presentation.

Then there are the misconceptions that potential suitors have about us. News flash to the peeps that want to step to me or any transwoman. I'm not one of the fellas. I look at life, romance and love through a feminine prism. To get with me will not break your bank account, but a prerequisite is treating me like any other sistah you want romantic attention from. (that means flowers, chocolate and my fave perfume)

Another thing that's a must is that some of the things I like to do require you to take me out during daylight hours. If your ego can't handle being talked about by society for having me on your arm, then don't step to me, period. I want the person I love to be just as proud of being seen and being around me as I am of them. If you can't meet that simple requirement, step.

Finally, I am not a booty call or looking to be the other woman. I do believe in karma. I'm not going to deliberately be the cause of any discourse in a stable relationship. I don't want any relationship I eventually get into vulnerable to the reverse spin of the karmic wheel because I disrespected somebody's relationship or their marriage.

So as you can see I haven't and won't give up on love. I have much respect, admiration and a little twinge of jealousy for those people in the community and beyond who are in stable, satisfying relationships or who have experienced the heady rush of having someone worship the ground they walk on. Maybe that will happen for me one day.

In the meantime, what time is the next showing of Daddy's Little Girls and the closest place I can go to get some chocolate to scarf up?