Question and Answer

The question:

“Suppose you discovered that God hadn’t turned his back on you and you could still go to heaven. What would that mean for you/the rest of your life? Do you see that fixing problems or creating them, or both?”

My answer:

“I’ve had to think about your question and how I should answer. This is something which has and continues to weigh upon me with each passing day. 

There isn’t one simple answer to this, as much as I wish there were. You see, I think it depends on this… Am I accepted by Him as I am? A flawed, broken woman who resides in this flesh or in spite of this? I understand saved by grace and I’m not speaking of that, but of knowing if everything I have thought, said, and done over the past several years was part of the path He set me on or my own misguided wanderings in the dark? Have I followed His will or my own?The thought of having wasted what time He has allowed me following my own misguided pride is crushing… 

I can accept how He might have given me these burdens so His will could be shown, but to think I squandered everything? I don’t know.

If an angel suddenly appeared and told me the Father loved me as I am, broken, dirty, and not worth His notice… That He loved the woman I am… then it would be the weight of the world lifted from my shoulders. And if he told me God loved me despite being a silly, misguided, deceived man who had lost his way….

Better to cast me into the fires of hell…

You see, this is my one true fear and has been from the beginning… 
Funny, I just thought about something. I can remember standing in front of the mirror, just a tan towel draped over my head and wishing it was hair instead. Of standing there dressed in my mothers clothes and knowing… knowing, beyond all doubt this is who I am… Not just what, but who. from the top of my head to the tip of my toes.

Can you imagine what it would mean if I could cast my thoughts back to that confused little girl and tell her everything is going to be ok? To tell her God is with her and will never let her walk alone? That she is right, no matter what the world tells her. To be able to go forward held in His embrace…

But what if I stand there on judgment day to be told, “Fool, if not for grace…” 

I have made many, many mistakes in this life, I cannot deny it. I know in the end my salvation lies not with myself but with Him, yet to be told I had wasted the gifts I had been given following a Will-O-Wisp of deception and pride. To know I could have done better than I did… could have been more than I was… could have been a greater witness for Him… and squandered it all on a lie…

You see, I look at this flesh and it tells me one thing. I look to my heart and it tells me another. I have wondered, hoped, cried, prayed, and screamed for understanding. I have asked for wisdom, patience, and forgiveness. Yet at every turn, who I truly am, heart and soul, has reared it’s head telling me I have lived a lie my whole life. Instead of putting my faith in Him and following the Holy Spirit where He wanted me to be… I caved in to worldly pressures, struggling in vain to be what those around me insisted I had to be even though I knew… I knew, I knew, I knew, it was wrong. 
Now here I am today, unsure of where I stand. Not because of anything He has done, but because of what I did not do. He never failed me, I failed Him and because of it, I cannot say I would be in the least surprised to find myself on the “Down” elevator instead of the “UP.” 

Not every seed planted grows and thrives… some land on rocky, infertile soil and live only a short time before withering away…

So I wonder, which am I?

To know He was still with me. To know I hadn’t walked away from Him… To know the path I am on is the one He has chosen?  Could simple words ever express what such a thing would mean to me?”

Beautiful Darling (2009)

Beautifuldarling

 

I watched a movie I didn’t know existed until a few days ago, about a woman I knew nothing about. Now I sit here with tears in my eyes and a sadness in my heart because hers was a life too short.

The movie is ‘Beautiful Darling, The Life and Times of Candy Darling, Andy Warhol Superstar’

The title seems a little dry after watching the film, though accurate in it’s way. 

I’ll share with you the storyline as given on IMBD website.

“Candy Darling was a fixture in the New York Off-Broadway scene in the 60s, in Warhol films such as Women in Revolt and Flesh, and became a prominent personality in Warhol’s circles, influencing such noted contemporary artists as Madonna, David Bowie and Lou Reed. This documentary will use a series of interviews, archival footage, and images from Candy’s home in Massapequa, NY. Archival footage includes rare 25 year old interviews conducted by Jeremiah Newton with members of Warhol’s Factory and Tennessee Williams. The film features interviews with colleagues, contemporaries and friends of Candy, including John Waters, Peter Beard, Holly Woodlawn, Bob Colacello, Geraldine Smith, Pat Hackett and Ron Delsener.”

 

My thoughts…

Watching this, I found myself fascinated by Candy. I wanted to know more about her, who she was, why she was… If I hadn’t know from the description on Netflix that she was Transsexual, I never would have guessed and it wouldn’t have mattered if I did. She was, by her own hand and deed, larger than life. The flame which draws the moth, and like the flame, burned out too soon.

She was part of time which, when looking back, seems so far from us now. A different climate, a different understanding… society has moved on… Yet it really hasn’t. What you see and hear of life in the New York LGBT community of the late 60s, early 70s isn’t so far removed from where we stand at this moment. Maybe laws have changed, maybe people want to believe things are better, yet listen to the words of those interviewed, see their reactions to the memories which lie no so far beneath the surface and you will the same battles we fight today.

I do have to wonder about this film and it’s purpose. If it is to showcase a lost treasure, it does it well. If it is meant to be a cautionary tale, it does leave the proper impression. But if it is meant as a way to honor a unique soul. To spotlight the trials and tribulations of life… well then, I feel it missed the mark just a little.

You get a glimpse, through her journal of the sadness and loneliness which marked her days on the earth. You can just see, almost hidden from view, her desperate need to be accepted and loved for who and what she was.

And you can feel the weight of each passing day in which she did not find what she wanted most.

If your interested, the movie is on Netflix, available to streaming. 

I’ve Been Thinking…

Yes, dangerous I know.

Most of the time when I write about the issues I am having, I seem to try to convey my emotional state more than anything. Maybe it’s because as I find myself dealing with issues, it is the emotions which come to the forefront. Which color my sight and leave a metallic taste in my mouth.

Yet I wonder how often this ends up clouding the issue.

These past few days are a good example, so let me take a moment to try and explain much of what has been bothering me. Maybe in this way my day to day life become a little clearer. After all, as far as I know, there isn’t anyone reading this blog who knows me in my day to day life out in the ‘Real World’ or if they do, they haven’t said as much to me, and so the only images you have of me outside of this space is what I write here, and truthfully, 99% of this is about what is happening on the inside.

Most days I do little or nothing to change my appearance from what it has been for the majority of my life. True, I have let my hair and nails grow. I use lip balm more than I use to, but really there isn’t much of a noticeable change. I still spend my days in jeans and sweat shirts or tee shirts depending on the weather. I wear tennis shoes more often than not, though I have to wear boots for work. When I look in the mirror I see the same reflection as always…

When I speak I hear the same voice in my head. I have made no efforts to feminize my voice.

I have adjusted the way I walk, but it more to the point where I don’t obviously walk like a man, ram rod straight with a tight, overly aggressive step.

Outside of this, I have tried on many levels to allow my thoughts to open beyond the narrow day to day view I had trudged through for so long, yet it is all too easy to fall back into those familiar, comfortable patterns. 

It is the same with my emotions. Yes, I have loosened the bonds I kept them under, to do anything else would have lead to a breakdown, yet I still find times when it is difficult to let go and just feel.  Then again, the very fact I can feel anything positive at all is a vast improvement over where I was. Too many years of nothing but negative emotions, the self hatred, disgust, loathing, and the anger… Oh, so much anger… 

Still, even here I can find myself falling back into those old, familiar ruts. It’s the path of least resistance. The sharp, bitter taste I know all too well.

You see, in so many ways, in so many things. Thoughts, actions, emotions; I often find not much has changed from what has gone before. So many days when I think,look, or listen to myself and I wonder what has changed? 

I think, often, if I went full time, this would change. It would have to wouldn’t it? To make those changes, no matter how minute, which transform me, in my own mind, from costume to reality and lead to the “new” me becoming more “real” than the old?

This is the question I cannot answer. Maybe it is the thought of being given no other choice but to change these things which attracts me to the idea. Maybe it is the thought; by maintaining so much of the trappings of my old self, I can never be anything else…

If I look in the mirror and see the past staring at me, am I really anything else?

I think I have said this before; if I could rip off this skin, like a snake or bad parlor trick, and step away as I know myself to be… I would do it in a heartbeat.

If I could step into the shower and standing under the stinging water to be transformed, I would rejoice.

Nothing is ever so simple though, is it?

There is a constant tug of war between what was and what I wish to become.

I don’t know… I really don’t. Some days are easier than others. There are times I want to get up and sing and dance like no one is watching… and then there are the other days. Days in which I want to scream until my throat is raw. To dig my nails into this skin and tear it from the bone.

Days when I just want to be me and days when I want to be nothing at all.

Maybe some day I will find my balance. A time when it really won’t matter what I look like, how I sound, what name someone addresses me with.

A day when I am truly myself.

Where You Mine? (Poem)

Where You Mine?

By Kira A. Moore

 

Night is falling,

The phone silent,

The street empty.

 

Did you forget me?

Is there something,

Better for you to do?

 

Silence is screaming,

The darkness engulfing,

And I am so cold.

 

I’ve lost you.

Did I ever have you,

Or was it all in my mind?

A Day

I have to thank A for today, she took what began as a bad day and made it something better. She talked me into getting out of the house to do some shopping which included a stop at the local Goodwill where she found me a cute grey. knitted, zip up sweater. (On top of this, she insisted I wear the sweater I posted about, the one with the trees, which did help take the edge off).

I’m still struggling with an uncertain future. A isn’t so sure if Jodi isn’t pushing me a little too hard and she has pointed out the issues we have the boys… something I am painfully aware of. 

This is where I am in conflict with myself and what I see happening to myself, my marriage, our family. As much as I want to hold things off for as long as possible, I just don’t know when I will hit the final wall and have to make a very real and serious decision. 

A has said she doesn’t want me to try and go back to how I was, it was too difficult to live through once, I don’t know if we could survive it again. Then again, I honestly don’t know if I could survive it… somehow I have a feeling that answer won’t be positive… What then am I to do I wonder, as much as I want to keep the kids out of this, will I be able to do so? Will A ever forgive me if I can’t? Will they? 

I do not have the answers. I know there are those who think things will work out better than I fear, but if there is one thing I have learned it is to never expect the best outcome from life, you are bound to find yourself disappointed.

I so want to hope for the best, to find some way to meld all the pieces of my life into a unified whole, yet I think it more likely I will end up losing everything. I don’t see how it can end any other way.

Fear

Have you ever wanted to break open the emotional piggy bank and let everything out, but your afraid to because other people are watching and they might not understand, might take what you say or do the wong way or worse yet, use you as an example of what they should or should not be thinking, feeling, or doing?

 

Maybe I’m just too sensitive for my own good.

 

When I first started blogging, I let everything show. I was wearing my heart on my sleeve and everyone could see when I was bleeding to death, even those times I couldn’t see it for myself. The thing was, I didn’t think about how my words were impacting others. I guess hiding behind a computer screen made it all seem surreal. Yes, I was I was in pain, lost and confused and I needed some way to make sense out of it all and writing just seemed to be a natural way to do so… those cool, black letters sitting on the screen gave me a calm, rational way to look inside my own head. The problem of course is, others get to look as well.

I first began to worry about his when I thought I was acting like a puppy chasing my own tail, just going over the same ground again and again, but I still didn’t connect the dots.

Then one day I did. I mean I really, really did. I have seen others reference something I said or even an entire post and while it was amazing to see, I failed to appreciate just what was happening. There were people out there, real, living, breathing human beings who read my words and they had a large enough effect someone felt a need to answer in their own way.

That’s enough to scare the be-jebbers out of me when I let it sink in.

I understand the power of words, I know how helpful they can be when spoken at just the right moment. I also know how dangerous they can be and how much damage, unintended or otherwise, they can do when misspoken.

Once, a long time ago on a service far, far away; I was quite active in message boards and chat rooms. It was all very interesting. I met some great people and had some fun times jumping from one place to the next. Yet it didn’t feel real to me, not really, until I got into a singular conversation with a young lady and I made a terrible mistake.

You see, she confessed to having been raped when she was younger. We spent a good deal of time discussing this and the fact she blamed herself for what happened… I meant to tell her is wasn’t her fault, that she did nothing wrong… I typed away and hit “Enter” and then read what I had just sent…

“It was your fault.”

One stupid, thoughtless typo and I had just destroyed someone life. 

I was horrified, I tried to explain, I tried to apologize, but how can you ever undo something like that? Simple. You can’t. Ever. I was able to work through it with her but it took hours, days, and even now I doubt the damage was ever undone in even the smallest way. Just thinking of it now, all these years later, still makes me sick to my stomach. We did stay in touch for awhile but eventually she faded away and I can only hope and pray is she was alb to get the help she needed and is living a happier life today. But I’ll never know for sure and I have to live with that knowledge for the rest of my life.

Knowing this, I am ashamed of the fact I again fell into a place where the words didn’t hold that same sense of danger as they did that night so long ago. One would think I would never forget a lesson such as that, but I did. When it finally came back to me, it nearly paralyzed me. I’ve been deathly afraid of opening up this way again, to show to you who read this that sometimes I end up fighting the same battles over and over again. To show there are good days, bad day, and some really horrible, terrible days when I find myself wanting to physically harm myself. I’m afraid to show the extent of the emotional scars I carry. The depths to which I sometimes fall. I know, we all know, life isn’t a perfect rose without thorns. It can be dirty and nasty and it can hurt you. Really, really badly. The thing is, I don’t want it to be my words which cause such pain. It rips my own heart to pieces when it happens and I can never fully forgive myself.

This has meant days when all I can do is link to news stories, or maybe reblog a post I think is interesting and some times it’s just a simple little poem to fill the empty spaces…

But it hurts my writing when I try to censor myself. When I try to polish off the edges of my emotions. 

Sometimes what I think and feel is like walking across a parking lot covered in glass shards. Sometimes I am so overcome with emotions my face is soaked with tears… How do I convey such thing to you? I mean really… in the desert which is a computer screen, where words are truly black and white, without all of the inflection of a human voice to carry them….

How do I do this?

More to the point, how do I do this without causing harm where none is intended? How can I show you the hope I hold in my heart even when I am crying? How to I shine a light into the darkness when I am terrified of the dark? How do I show you… any of you…

That despite all the pain, all of sadness and fear, there is a reason to continue on. A reason to fight for a future which might never come, but never will unless we demand it?

How… how do I show you I wouldn’t want to do anything other than what I have, made the decisions I have made, walked this road I have walked, putting one foot in front of the other even when it seems pointless because I simply could not imagine doing otherwise…

Afterthoughts

As any of you who follow me know, this was a difficult weekend, but I think it was all for a good cause. You see, it’s all too easy to fall into a pattern. To keep reusing the same reasons and excuses, no matter how justified to let yourself come to a halt. I have done it before and paid the price, but like any bad habit it is difficult to break free and learn another way of doing things. 

The one thing I did today to break free was have a talk with A about what’s been going on in my head these past several days. Certainly she knew there was something bothering me, but I kept putting her off as I worked through things… I simply wasn’t ready then but I was now.  I told her I needed to be out, to go someplace besides our home as myself. Constantly presenting as male just isn’t going to cut it anymore… it just hurts too much to know I am seen as something… someone I am not. Her first question was where I wanted to go and I told her, to the mall, a store, anywhere really. It isn’t were I go, just that I have gone.

She didn’t balk, didn’t try and talk me out of anything. She did ask me to wait until Halloween… to see how I do being around people again, to see how I feel about myself, if I’m comfortable… It is a small concession to make, I had already thought about going out that night anyway. This will give me a little time to see about getting a new wig, one which is cooer to my natural color… minus the grey… It also gives me a chance to think about an outfit. Just something simple, maybe black jeans, a nice top, and my favorite pair of New Balance shoes. I already wear much of these things on a regular basis, just not in an obviously feminine way… no accessories, wig, or makeup. It will be easy to make those few changes.

We had a long talk, I told her some of the things which came up with Jodi during therapy and I spoke of the fear I have of going out alone, at least the first time. She pointed out I have a very real reason to have the fears I do, I’ve read other people accounts of things which have happened and I also read the news. It isn’t all that safe out there so of course I would be concerned. It made me feel better to know I wasn’t just being overly cautious, to know she understood.

Thinking about these things has brought me back to another part of the conversation I had with Jodi. This wasn’t something I brought up with as I really wasn’t thinking in these terms, but I will share them here.

She was curious as to why I wasn’t worried about confrontations when I’m out as male. What made it different from being out as Kira? I suppose because no one has ever questioned if I was actually male… I’ve not received a second look entering a restroom or other “male only” spaces, I have always assumed I was seen as just another guy out and about… 

This lead to an interesting, but I suppose not unexpected, thread… she noted, if she didn’t know the things about me she does, her first impression would be I was gay. This from my mannerisms, the way I carry myself, the way I sit… much of it reminds her of gay men she knows, though we have spoken of this before and one she spent a little time with me, she began to see some very real differences between them and myself. She wondered why, if most people see me as possibly gay, then why didn’t I fear harassment based on that? Which lead to her asking if it bothered me to know people saw me that way… and it doesn’t… I don’t know why, but I couldn’t care less if someone thinks I’m gay, at least as far as being a gay male… I know the truth and it’s all I need. To which she then asked, why should I worry about how people see me when I’m presenting as Kira?

It’s an interesting question and I am still thinking about it.

The conversation meandered from there and ended up back at the question of possible harassment and confrontation. Why did I fear these things, why did assume they would happen, and exactly what did I fear might happen?

This is where I ran into trouble. I couldn’t come up with any answers which didn’t sound like excuses, at least to my own ears. I realized just what I was talking about this weekend, finding every reason, good or bad, to hold myself back, to give into the fears and to do nothing as it was easier than taking the next step, no matter how much I needed to. My every thought became consumed with this, my stomach in knots and shivering with the cold which coursed through my body as I thought about being out in a store or surrounded by crowds of people. Even now I get goose bumps… but as simple as it may be, making plans to go out, even if it was just one night has calmed my nerves somewhat and thinking a little further along, to maybe finally doing something as simple as window shopping… It gives me a glimmer of hope I didn’t have even a short time ago.