I had most of last night to myself at work. It is one of the things I like about my job. Truth be told, I would love to be independent, working as a poet or artist, but in this economy I’m just lucky to have a steady paycheck…
That’s the problem with having dreams, all too often the real world comes along and crushes them to dust.
I had a great deal of time to think about what my life would be like if I could live my dream, and while I did think of a number of things I would want, the real world would come creeping into my thoughts. Any dreams I have, if they came true could mean I might not have met A, my children might not have been born. Even if things had reached the point where they are now, these dreams might mean losing them and honestly, I can’t imagine my life without them.
There was a time in my life I couldn’t imagine the life I have now. A time when the possibility of meeting some one, of falling in love and having a family seemed so remote, so near impossible, that it was nothing more than a shadowy wish always out of reach. A time when I cried myself to sleep in an empty bed, my heart breaking with the touch of cool sheets. I wanted so desperately to have someone who would look past the outside and accept and love me for what was inside, even when I didn’t really understand what was there myself. It was a dream I never thought would come true…. but it did.
I suppose that my dreams of the life I want for myself is another dream I don’t think will come true. A dream who’s cost is simply too high. I could be wrong, it might be possible this dream could come true just as the other did, and do so in a wonderfully unexpected way, but how many times does someone get two dreams fulfilled in a lifetime?
If your wondering, my dream would be to be able to go on hormones, for them to work properly and well. For the woman I know is hiding just beneath the surface to be set free. I saw pictures someone posted of themselves after fourteen months on hormones and I was shocked and envious of the transformation they underwent. If I knew I my results would be half as good, I might not be able to stop myself from running to the doctors and demanding he start me on treatment immediately… Good thing I can’t see into the future…
You know what? I wouldn’t care if I couldn’t live full time as female, just being able to see the woman in the mirror would be more than I could ever hope for… Does that even make sense?
What makes this difficult are the times like last night. The times when I am alone and can let my conscience mind submerge just enough so I can let my imagination fill in the details… What this means is, during those times I can feel the way my body was meant to feel, my hair moves as it was meant to move, my face feels as it was meant to feel. The way I carry myself is as I always imagined i would. For those short times, I am whole. I am who I was always meant to be.
The shift back is always jarring, if I’m walking, I’ll stumble. If I’m sitting, I get vertigo. It is physically disorienting and mentally and emotionally painful.
For me, my imagination is a double edged sword I have named “Bittersweet” and it always draws blood.