No Headaches and No Drama

There are only so many people that I can really *talk* to. Sometimes, and this may be a common feeling, I feel like when I'm talking to someone they listen but it seems more like I'm complaining than anything else. For this reason alone, I usually keep my mouth shut and don't get too personal with anyone. And then there's those few people that I feel like I can really talk to, and they care without thinking "ugh just stop bitching already". Mama Schimmy is one of those people.

Her daughter and I were good friends in high school. Not best friends, as girls tend to declare more than boys, but we were pretty close. I never really felt like I fit in with their group, and now we all see why, so most of the time -while at The Schimmy Residence - the rest of the group would be watching something on TV, or a movie, or talking about the latest trends and clothing and whatever: and I would retreat to the kitchen. Where Mama and I (and anyone else who cared to join) would talk. About anything, about everything, about whatever was on our minds or questions about sex and life and love and the world - honestly these were some of the best days of my life. I learned so much from this woman and I can honestly say that I would not have been the person I am today without her. I trust her with everything that I am. Not just because she could answer my questions but because there could be a conversation about it, and I wasn't just asking the simple questions. I mean we talked about some deep shit. I always knew that she would never judge me, or call my parents after we talked, or be concerned when we brought up certain topics. It was the safest place I had in high school - that kitchen.

So Mama came to stay with her boyfriend (we'll call him Dodi - as she lovingly does) for 5 nights. What most people would think is "wow that's a long time - must have been a hassle". NOT EVEN CLOSE! First of all they had their own plans, I had to schedule a night to have dinner with them around all of their other outings (seriously we only got ONE night to see them for dinner), and they had keys so we never had to worry about staying up and letting them in or who would be home when, etc. We didn't have to entertain, we didn't have to host, we didn't have to do anything. It was so easy and I cannot wait for them to come and stay again. The one night we had dinner was just like old times. We ate, we talked, we played some gin rummy, and it was so nice to have company and just relax with them. It was better than I could have hoped for. I love you, Mama - and I cannot put into words how happy I am that you are comfortable enough to stay with me and Sarah and share our home the way you shared yours with mine all those years ago. Thank you for everything and preemptively for all that is to come. It's so nice knowing that after these years I can still turn to you for anything. You are an amazing person, and smart, and wise, and funny, and genuine, and caring, and I love you.

Like you said to Sarah, I love Dodi too and I know that I can fall - we need to spend more time together. I can't believe how easily we clicked from that first day we met moving the hot tub. It was like I had known him for years. We can talk and laugh and it feels like we're, somehow, old friends. I cannot wait to spend more time with him and get to know his quirks like I know yours.

Ya'll come back now y'hear?!

"Truth is confirmed by inspection and delay; falsehood by haste and uncertainty." -Tacitus

My dad came to therapy with me last week. Honestly I thought it was a good thing for both of us, mostly for him. I feel that whenever my Dad has been to a therapy session - whether it was with Michael how many years ago, or with me when I was eleven years old and forced to go to therapy because I was very depressed (and now maybe we all realize why) - it has possibly been a negative experience. This session with me was not negative, and maybe it helped him see that the whole family should be in therapy, honestly we should - together (I would love to do that). He voiced his concerns, which were almost all valid, and we talked through them and about them with someone else present which helped the conversation move along. That was last Monday, today is Wednesday, and I went over to see the new cappuccino cups that we had shipped from BB&B. Not only did I have a delicious cappuccino, I also heard from my dad that he sat down and spoke with Mom and Matt one night for over an hour about me. Great! Right? Well....

Apparently they are (I know for a fact this part was my mom) convinced that I am doing this (becoming a man) for Sarah. In the past, my mother has said that she feels like I am "doing this so that Sarah does not have to deal with the fact that she's a lesbian". It is statements like these that not only make me mad, but also make me wonder if anyone knows me at all. I don't believe I am someone who makes decisions easily. I have been told by friends that I think too much, and now I have people wondering if this is really what I want. It makes me realize that my parents do not know me at all - which is sad, really. I feel more pity towards them than anything else - to think that they (this includes Matthew) could assume that I'm naive, and impulsive, and careless. Clearly we all have to sit down and have a conversation and set some things right. Do you honestly think I would be choosing to make these changes to my body if it was not what I truly wanted? This is, and as far as I can tell - will always be, the hardest thing I will ever do. Do people like me do it everyday? Of course. But that doesn't make it any easier for us. We have to be ready to be hated. And feared. And put-down. And beaten up. This is our life. Every single day.

This is not something that is taken lightly. When I realized that I was transgender, (to be cliche) it felt like a huge weight was off of my shoulders. I finally fit into something, and I could BREATHE. I was finally going to feel comfortable with who I was. I wasn't going to hate myself anymore, or be depressed, or feel so terribly wrong in my own body. I hated myself. That was four years ago, and they are claiming that I'm moving too fast, and I should take time to stop and think about if it's what I really want. Just because I'm moving too fast for you does not mean that I have not thought about this. My dad mentioned that it was discussed how maybe I should stop taking the hormones for a few years and really figure out if this is what I want. Because if Sarah and I break up (seriously? Why is everyone expecting us to not work out? It's been 6 years, if you're not used tot it by now you need to get over yourself, there's nothing I can do for you) that I could be left with this change that I may not have really wanted. STOP TELLING ME WHAT I DO OR DO NOT WANT. I seriously need to make it clear that this decision was my own and was not Sarah begging me to become a man for her. I figured this out without anyone coercing me. She was not dragging me to trans meetings in Albany to convince me who I was. I went by choice, by myself, and they were the most amazing meetings I've ever been to. I fit in, I echoed feelings with people who had come out years ago and were fully transitioned and living stealth and passing 24/7. That was where I was meant to be, this is who I am, I am a transgender adult and am fully capable of making my own decisions. Isn't this what parents work for? Someone who can survive on their own? And be strong? And know exactly what they want in life?

When I was a kid - maybe 5 or 6 - I told my father that I felt like I had a hole inside of myself that I couldn't fill. A little kid said that. Please just stop reading for a minute to think about the fact that a five year old said they felt empty inside.

Think about it.



If my kid ever, ever says ANYTHING like that to me I am going to do everything I can to find out what's wrong. I'm not going to tell them to just "go to sleep, I'll make you pancakes in the morning". I'm going to hold them close to me and tell them that I care about them very much, and I love them no matter what, and we're going to find out how to fill that hole. I'm going to be there for them the way my parents should have been.

And guess what? The hole is finally getting smaller.

GoFundMe is LIVE! PLEASE HELP MY DREAM COME TRUE!

So I decided it's time to get serious about Top Surgery. This is the next step and I cannot hide anymore pretending I can do it alone. I need help.

I have created a donation page with GoFundMe as was Naomi's idea (thank you so much for this, by the way) and I wanted to share the link on here. Send it to anyone and everyone - as you would expect me to ask, and if you can donate that's great! But if not (believe me I understand) just share it because sharing is caring, it can be fun!

It also only takes a few seconds to send along the link and you would be helping a dream come true. If you donate, and want me to know about it I will send out personalized thank you notes to anyone who emails me at akircheim@gmail.com.

The notes may include a nice little present from yours truly. I mean, I'm no Joss Whedon (seriously check this out) but I'm sure I can come up with something.

Thank you in advance, and as always anyone can email me about anything at any time and I will answer questions, always be honest, and maybe even give some advice if needed.

So here's the link to Aidan's Top Surgery!

Wednesday from Hell and Mike is okay, he told us three times

Wednesday evening:

I get out of work and head to the apt to pick up Sarah so we can go to my parent's for dinner. It's pouring outside. Buckets. We're heading down Horton Ave by my parent's house, two lane street, traffic built up on the other side. As we're coming down some asshole pulls out from the line of traffic to make a 3 pt turn, to get out of said traffic, and pulls out right in front of us. I slam on the brakes, swerve to the right, and our driver side front panel and headlight hit his passenger front panel/bumper/headlight. Everyone's fine, the cops show up, write a report, we're standing out in the rain getting soaked. The cop knew my name, knew Michael, we chat about how his death date is coming up soon (actually it's today), he writes the report, we head over to my parent's. The car damage is really not bad, could be worse if I hadn't swerved and if we'd had someone behind us because they wouldn't have been able to stop either.

Now we're at my parent's. She calls her mom&dad, the insurance company to make a claim, we have soup, her parent's come over to look at the car, Eric says we can drive it back to the apt, we do that.

We come into the apartment, and the landlord is coming in too, heading downstairs from us - not sure why.

Sarah goes into the bathroom to take a shower, gets undressed - I walk into the kitchen to put away leftover soup my dad sent us home with. The kitchen floor is full of water. It's coming in from outside, into the walls, and onto the floor. Harold (the landlord) comes back upstairs, says it's leaking downstairs from our bedroom. So we go in there, and that outer wall is leaking too (the wall behind our heads), and it's dripping in through ceiling fan (so now it's in the ceiling also). He said they'd come look at it the next day and go from there. We clean up as best we can, go to sleep with a pot on the bench at the foot of the bed to catch the water dripping from the fan, wake up at 5:30 am to clean the room a bit more and clear space for them to come in and inspect. I get pictures/video of all the damage and what's happening, and go to work.

Since then they have re-siliconed the windows outside, and that's it.

As for the car, we went to a body shop on Saturday (her father sent us there, he knows the guy) and he said if it's 100% the other guy's fault we'll use HIS insurance AND we'll get a rental while it gets fixed. Now to wait for the report to come in. Which should be any day now.

So that's catching you up to that.


* * *


Today is three years since Michael passed away. I miss him, but it's not like my day was ruined because of it. If anything, I've been smiling all day thinking about him. My friend Lisa calls me on April 23rd to talk - out of the blue - telling me that she was at a psychic reading and my brother crashed in saying to tell his brothers that he's okay. She said it had to be him, so she called me, and she was still shaking from it. I texted Matthew to tell him Mike was party crashing, as usual. SO like him.

THREE DAYS LATER Matt texts me telling me that two people from different circles of friends had psychic readings where Mike busted in to say hi and he's okay. Pretty cool, actually. I'm not sure what I believe but I can tell you that it gave me chills to see that text message. He's probably watching all of the shit happening and telling me to man-up. He would say that.

He was in so much pain... Of course I miss him, but maybe it's better this way.

That age old question...

"What do you want to be when you grow up?"

.......................................................

How can a child really answer that question? When they don't know how limitless the possibilities truly are?

I thought I knew what I wanted to be at least 4 times (of course there were other things I wanted to do but these I remember). First it was a figure skater, then it was a firefighter, then it was a dancer, and then it was a Navy SEAL. I held onto that last one for the longest. I remember I was staying after swim practice to do my own workout, a workout I had found on the Navy website for SEAL training. I was probably about twelve years old. I did this for two years, staying late just about every Sunday night to train. And then I found out it was a boys-only club. No girls allowed, crayon sign outside the gate and all. Just like in kindergarten. Suffice it to say, I was crushed. And so I poured myself into soccer. And I was actually pretty good. Then my knees started to go, and I was crushed once again (not half as much as I was about the boys-only SEAL club. I still think about it almost everyday).

So then what? I go to college, get a degree in Sociology and Math. Fun, interesting, but not my top career choices. Then I go to Pastry School in Colorado. Great trip, great people, great food. Got a certificate from that, come work in NYC - and realize that I really just want to decorate cakes (if I was going to work in Pastry Arts at all). Get a new job at this Medical Device company and am seriously surprised at how much I like it, and how good I have gotten at it.

But today I found something else. Something that actually made my gut clench like nothing has in a long time. Something I want.

I want to work with a comics company.

The things that I love in this world are a handful. Sarah comes first, always. Then in no particular order there's video games, cakes, cookies, and comics.

I've always loved comics. As a kid they taught me that it was okay to be different. And they helped me escape into a world where it didn't matter what was going on, or who I was, or how different I felt - I could be an X-Man. And I loved being an X-Man. I used to sneak into my brother's room and read whatever I could find. And although I don't remember which comics I read, or what happened in them, or what year they were from, I remember how they made me feel. And to this day I still feel it. They are an escape into a world where anything can happen. Anything.

I want to be part of that for someone else. I want to help shape a world for another kid who just needs to get away from everything going on around them. I want to make a difference for them the way comics made a difference for me. And I think I can make that happen.

Well, as they say - here goes nothing.

A positive post.

MY MOTHER CALLED ME HER SON!!! IN PUBLIC!!!!

More on that after a few updates. Long story short - my parents have swapped places in their views. Like that's not confusing at all. 

Anyway!

I tried to have a conversation with my Dad about what I'm doing and how he has been addressing me and how it is NOT okay for him to group me in with "the girls" and introduce me to people as his "daughter". He was not having it. He told me that "god gave me two sons and a daughter and that's what I'll always have" He went on to talk about Mary Claire Cheney (Dick Cheney's daughter) and how even though the family does not agree with her lifestyle, they still get along. Because "she's in a relationship with another woman". I tried to explain that this is different because I'm not a woman anymore.and I'm not a lesbian, I'm transgender. He just didn't really seem to understand what I'm doing with my life. But only time will tell, he said he would try to stop saying "the girls" and start saying "Sarah and A" and therefore calling me "A" instead of 'Aileen'. We shall see where that goes. 

In other news, James got fired two Fridays ago at work. He was lying about how much work he was doing everyday and since no one had ever really checked it, he was getting away with it. Who knows for how long but Juan asked me to figure out why his numbers didn't match up and I did. 

Honestly I took it pretty hard because here was a guy that I trusted, my first new friend made as "Aidan" at my first job as "Aidan", and he accepted me no matter what. He was a really down-to-earth, and we had some real heart-to-hearts but at this point who knows what he was lying about.

Okay, onto the good stuff. 

My Mom has been actually TRYING. Like, really. It's throwing me off, honestly, and I'm liking it but I'm shocked at how she's coming along. Apparently at the quilt meeting the other night, someone was talking about all of the help that was given by family members at the quilt show. And how they should thank their families for coming out, and she looked to my Mom and said "especially your son", and my mom asked "my son?" and the woman said "yeah your son who was there the whole time" and Mom said "oh yeah, he's my son". I'M SORRY, WHAT?!

SO that happened. AND, her sister, my aunt - has been using male pronouns and calling me "Aidan". It's shocking, and AWESOME and I really really appreciate the effort that is being put forward. It's amazing to see how much progress has been made in the past months. 

Side note: Phil at work told me that when he started working at the company in October and he met me, he had no idea about me. And when he heard from someone he thought that they were playing a trick on him. And that if he ever heard anyone making fun of me or giving me crap that he would kick the shit out of them. That was a HUGE ego boost. Overall it's been a good week. 

ALSO, I will be starting my volunteering with a pre-enlist ARMY program on Friday with a someone who I consider a really good friend. We haven't seen each other in years but I feel like we're just going to pick up where we left off. It's gonna be fun - I'm nervous excited. 

I'm sure there will be more updates in a week or so. 

PS- April 18th will be a year on hormones. Maybe I'll do another post about that separately soon.

Through the eyes of a child...

Yesterday was moving day for two of our friends, and it was a long day but completely worth it. We got all of their stuff out and into the other house, thankfully we had a lot of hands - it made things a lot easier. I don't have many friends, and even those I do have there are an even smaller few that I would help ALL day to move and clean their new house. I love these people, not only because of how funny, and caring, and honest they are. But also because they support me hands down no matter what, and get as mad as I do when someone say the wrong name or the wrong pronoun. It's refreshing to have people that care about me like that, and will go out of their way to correct someone without me even having to say anything.

It took me a little while to get used to it, the true support and open trust. But it's nice now - it's comfortable. I wouldn't give it up for anything now that I have it. And I would do anything for them, just like I know they would for me.

          *          *          *

Today Dad and I went bowling with a family friend and her two kids. It was fun - but honestly lately I'm never sure how these things are going to turn out with my parents around. And the kids are amazing, I love them, and it's nice to see them getting so big. At one point, our friend asked how Sarah was, and I said good. Her daughter asked who Sarah was and when I said she was my girlfriend, I got a confused look and she asked, "your girlfriend?! Are you a boy?" I said yes, and she didn't believe me. So they both ran over to my father and asked if I was a boy or a girl, and when they came back - "Mr. K said you're a girl." And that was that.

So we finished the game, headed home, and I texted our friend saying that if she wanted me to talk to them at another time, I could. She said it was fine and she was talking to them about it - they seemed pretty unphased by it. Her son, the younger of the two, apparently asked: "Why does she wanna be a boy? So she can breakdance?"

The world is so different when we're children. Everything is so fluid, and although the world can be black and white, sometimes that can be an easy way to explain something. "She was born a girl, and now she's a boy." Done. Easy. And it seems like as long as you don't lie to a kid, they'll trust you. And the world for them is how we make it. If someone wants to be a boy, or a girl, it's okay if you tell them it is. And as long as you don't make a big deal out of it. they won't.

So now it's about the next time I see them, and what they say.

We'll just have to find out.

Effort matters, people. It doesn't take much.

So I know this is a bit late but I should probably talk about it now because it still makes me happy.


On Valentines Day Sarah and I stopped by my parent's house to say hello and because my dad said that he had something for us. So we get there and before my dad can give us what he has for us he tells us to look at this book that Stephanie had made for my brother, we "have to read it go read it, its really good", he says. It was cute, it was full of pictures of them and how they met and where they went and things that they did. And then at the end it talked about my parents and myself, a brother named "Aidan".

Now, keep in mind that this is the first person living in that household that has called me Aidan. I was glad that it was just me and Sarah left by the end of the book because I could not stop smiling like an idiot. Then he gave us the candy he bought for us and a card for me that said 'Aileen' on the envelope. To my surprise, however, the inside of the card said 'Dear A,' and went on to say that I am a great child and friend and did not use any pronouns or use the word daughter. Needless to say, I was pretty happy about that.




Then, the other night, Sharon came over after they had a quilt meeting and gave me my birthday present I hadn't gotten from her yet. It was a card, and the front of the envelope said Aidan. It was a Marvel superheroes card, which goes to show that she knows me and what I like. =D So that also felt pretty great. Then, Sarah and I are talking the next day and she says that Sharon was calling me 'Aidan' the other day and used male pronouns.

So, things are looking up. my mother is trying, which doesn't go unnoticed, but it's still kind of feels like too little too late. But I left a book and a pamphlet for them to read about transgender kids, parents, friends, etc. So hopefully my parents have been going over it.

Only time will tell, and I'm trying not to get my hopes up.

Two tickets to paradise.

Sorry it's been so long - I've been in shock about this whole thing.

We live together. We are living together. After so long waiting and working for this, it's finally happened. I think I've waited so long to post about this because I was afraid it was a dream, or maybe something was going to fall through and I would have to move back home again. But here we are - buying groceries, watching TV, cuddling up on the couch, falling asleep in each other's arms and fuck if it is not the best thing that has ever happened to me (besides her accepting to be with me in the first place) then I don't know what is.

I don't think I could ever describe in words how happy I am, how happy it makes me to be living together. It's not something that can just be described, it's something that's felt. It's been a little over 2 months now and I don't think there has been a single day that I haven't woken up smiling knowing that she'd be there right next to me. I can't wait to go home after work everyday and see her, have dinner with her, watch TV with her.

I don't care if it sounds stupid, or mushy, or any of that crap - because I have never been this happy.

Who needs a house out in Hackensack?

So I see that the last time I posted was about an apartment.

This post is about an apartment too, but not a two bedroom to be shared with a mutual friend.

We were supposed to get a 2 bedroom apartment. One bedroom for a mutual friend, and one bedroom for me a Sarah. Well it turns out that our mutual friend was not ready to leave home. So despite the entire process of the application, background and credit checks, money to hold the apartment, it turns out that we didn't take the apartment......so we started all over again, this time just us two.

I almost cannot believe we'll be moving in next weekend. It's crazy to think that in a week we will be moving into our very own place, just the two of us. It's exciting, and I have the feeling she is a bit nervous. But a good kind of nervous, like a little kid about to jump into a pool even though they can see Daddy is right there to catch them - you know you'll be fine, but you still have to make the jump.

It's in a very Orthodox neighborhood, which is going to be interesting but we're used to driving out on the weekends anyway, and at least it's quiet. The building looks like shit from the outside, really it does, but the whole inside has been gutted and redone, repainted with moldings everywhere and it's actually really nice.

We've both already started packing this past week so there really isn't that much left. This is going to be amazing.

*                    *                   *

Thanksgiving was two days ago, and almost all of my family refuses to accept the fact of what I'm doing. Or they just go stoic about it and sweep it under the rug. Except for a few people, and definitely some more than the others. My uncle John has been calling me "A" as best he can, which is his way of trying, and has told me that whatever floats any one's boat is fine with him as long as you're a decent and nice person you're good with him. Aunt Laura and Chuck love me to death no matter what and have been the only ones really communicating with me about all of this, asking questions, making fun of my voice dropping and then hugging the shit out of me and I'm not sure she'll ever stop pinching my cheeks. And then there's cousin Mikey. Who at Nana's was deliberately saying "Aidan" out loud at almost everything, and then smiling wide. We were outside together for a minute away from everyone and he asked why he was the only one doing it, and seemed surprised that even my parents weren't following suit. I told him he was the only one who was actually calling me "Aidan" in the family and again he was surprised. It's nice to know that he really has my back, completely. He's not half-assing it like the rest of my family, he is in this. 

Believe me I know I have it better than most at this point with family tolerance, and I'm thankful that at least I'm still in my house and accepted by my family at all, but it's interesting to see who will conform and who will sweep it under the rug. I have hope for my generation. That us as well as our children will be more tolerant, and accepting - that we won't look at someone and judge them for what they look like, or if they have trouble hiding their tits but they're growing a beard, or a deep voice and shaved legs and arms, or even just floating in the middle ground of androgyny - which is pretty hot, to be honest. =P

Anyway, the point is, everything is going to be okay....eventually. 

I'm hoping time will heal most wounds, and all of us can get the hell on with our lives as a family like we're supposed to. I'm also hoping that this apartment and some space away from my immediate family will help us all move forward in this process without feeling smothered by one another. 

But, one can only hope, right?