Tuesday 30 September 2008

My Hero

My wonderful Dad is 84 years young tomorrow. I love him so much. He is my hero. My rock. He is one of life's gentlemen.
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He is from a different generation yet he is still young at heart. He is everything I can never be. He was a brilliant amateur sportsman, good at running, football, rowing & .....darts! He grew up in a pub. His parents were always busy & not really into touchy feely emotional stuff. When the war started he was unable to serve because of a major stomach op & bad injury to his leg sustained while playing football when a flailing lace from the old style ball opened up a gaping wound on his shin which became badly infected. He worked with his Father helping to build Spitfires. Several times they narrowly escaped the blitz at the factory they worked in. He meet my Mum when he was an apprentice electrician. They celebrate their "Diamond" Anniversary next month, which is an incredible achievement. There love remains undiminished. He has always been faithful & never strayed.
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He worked on Power stations, Trains & Ships, what ever it took to look after his family. He loves people & was renowned & respected for his approach to his team when he was a foreman. As a Dad he was second to none.
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He loved to make me toys. It was his brilliant gift for painting cartoon characters in the steamy windows of our kitchen & dining room that bought out the artist in me as a child. Bugs Bunny, Top Cat & Yogi Bear came to life before my eyes. It was such a shame that he was some how robbed of having a "normal" child. He tried & tried to get me interested in sport. Hid Dad loved sports & he so wanted me to share his passion. Eventually he gave up on me actually playing anything remotely to do with team sports or running. He was always quiet & thoughtful at home but he seemed to come alive when we had company. Our relationship was cemented by his eventual success to take me along to watch our local football team. At last we had something in common. Emotions were a subject you just could not go near but Footy was a whole different thing. These shared experiences are something I will always treasure. I wanted my Dad to be happy & proud of me. I did not do man stuff terribly well & at the time this was a positive development to our friendship. We still share this passion now.
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I love him with all my heart. It tore me apart to hurt him by telling him my truth. Until that day of disclosure we had never had a crossword together. I was no Angel & he had to tell me off from time to time although not that often, but we had never argued until then.
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We never talked about my condition for ten years. It was impossible & not open to discussion. When I invitably became so ill at trying to live to my parents wishes of not transitioning while they were alive & had to tell him what the consultant at the hospital thought of my situation he took the news very badly. They had only tried to protect me out of missguided love. They assumed I would lose all my friends, my job & be chased down the street with burning torches, such were their fears. He had been in denial for all that time. How could some one from a different age possibly come to terms with a child/adult like me, bless him? He ended up in an ambulance the same week such was his own turmoil. We had for the first time in our lives leading up to this hiatus, had several blazing rows which were completely out of character for both of us.
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That was two years ago. Now we have both changed & our relationship is as strong as ever. My hero now protects me & loves me for who I am. The turning point came when I went away for surgery. He knew then my transition was real & going to happen. If there had been any other way that avoided hurting him I would have taken it. He went from denial to acceptance the weekend before I had my operation. We went to his friends together & told them one by one in person or via letters & he found the same love & acceptance from his friends, just as I had been so blessed with nearly all of mine.
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While I was away he told our neighbours & mutual friends just to make things easier for me. It is not easy for him but he is trying so very hard. He now always calls me Debbie which has taken a huge effort on his part & if anyone else gets it wrong he politely puts them right. He tries to do some of the heavy jobs he really should not be doing now rather than ask me because I simply cannot physically do them now. Thankfully we have very good neighbours who keep an eye out to make sure he is not doing too much while I am away from home.
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Tomorrow we hope to go out for a family lunch together to celebrate his birthday & then at his own request we are off to the cinema to see
"MU MA MIA"
My Hero, my wonderful DAD is 84 years young.
God Bless Him.
What an incredibly sweet choice of film he made, what a wonderful, wonderful man!
Love
Debbie

Wednesday 17 September 2008

The doors to my destiny

This is taken on top of the hill overlooking Itchen Valley Country Park.
A place where I have found great comfort & solice in my prayers.

Yesterday I had an appointment with the surgeon Mr Phil Thomas at the Nuffield hospital Brighton http://www.nuffieldhospitals.org.uk/az_hospital_home.asp?hid=29 He is one of two surgeons in the UK who do gender reassignment surgery for both NHS & private patients.
I had previously visited the other surgeon Mr Bellringer in London on 27th June 2008 http://beingtruetomyheart.blogspot.com/2008_06_01_archive.html By the end of the day I would know where I would prefer to have my GRS.
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My appointment with Mr Phil Thomas 16th September 7.15 :-

I arrived two hours early but unfortunately 40 years too late for the consultation. My lovely counsellor of many years Fran accompanied me. I was & still am quite emotional over the whole experience. I could write & write for ever exuding praise for the hospital & its staff. The standard of care, the cleanliness. The friendliness of the nursing staff of whom the leader of the team is a sweet lady called Liz Hills. A marvellous nurse who reminds me very much of my best friend, a guardian Angel, who has been guiding me & even saved my life. The expert & very honest surgeon Mr Thomas. The luxurious rooms with sea views & Kestrels nesting in a box 50 yards from your window. The closeness to my home. That Fran used to work in the previous hospital before this one was built ten years ago. The surgeon Mr Thomas was taught by Mr Royal the very same surgeon my counsellor used to work with. That Mr Thomas was very impressed with Frans background & happy to take her word that I was a genuine case & ready for this life changing surgery. The only awful bit was the examination. If I felt great sadness at my deformity before I transitioned that sadness has manifested itself into total horror & hatred of that cursed organ. I so desperately want it gone. Enough, I am sorry that is too much information, please forgive me.

Did I mention the brilliant nurse Liz? Well she is worth another mention anyway. She was so completely understanding & sensitive to how someone like me feels going to something like this. She was full of 110% genuine compassion. To know she & her team would be there before, during & especially with the aftercare is very reassuring. She actually worked with Fran as a junior nurse in the original gender clinic part of the old hospital. So she has a lot of experience to offer.

For my fellow sisters & I GRS is often the Holy Grail but it is not always achievable. We sat just outside the main entrance afterwards & I had trouble holding back the tears. I was shaking with emotion & could not really comprehend what had just taken place. It took about 20 minutes for me to come down & try to make sense of all the emotion. Then a mixture of shear elation & anxiety took over. From where we were parked I could see reflected in my driver’s mirror, the doors to my destiny beckoning. So close yet so far. It took an age for me to compose myself & drive us home.

I know how anxious my beloved elderly Mum & Dad will be for me when I finally have this surgery done but if they had seen this hospital & its incredible staff they would be so much more at ease. One way or the other I am going back through those hospital doors & coming back out a new woman. Hopefully with the NHS in the new financial year April 2009 possibly before 2010. April 1st would be appropriate after nature’s cruel joke. Realistically Oct- Nov 2009. If funding is not in place by February at the latest my flat will be on the market at a knock down price & possibly even sooner.

"Yesterday was beyond my wildest dreams, so close yet so far".

I never ever thought someone with so little confidence until I transitioned & found my self belief, could ever have got this far. I still cannot believe it.

This life is a journey & the GRS not an end. Some less fortunate dear sisters are not always able to have any medical treatment or even begin to experience what this life is really all about. In my moments of elation I will always remember these courageous sisters. I have known since a very young age that I am a woman trapped in a male body but it is only since January when I begun to live as a woman full time did I actually find that special feeling, that magical self belief that actually comes from that final big leap of faith.

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The wise words of two dear friends far more eloquent than I, sum up how I feel about my life, my very real life, experiences of recent months, quite perfectly:-


From my dear friend Kate regarding my brave friend Jo & her brilliant debut in the workplace, for the first time in her life:-

“It is so Not A Big Deal but until you've experienced that yourself, it seems impossible to believe - and I suspect some people never do reach that. We don't dress; we don't present en femme; we don't become women; we don't change sex; we don't transition. It is so much simpler than that: we just drop the male masque, the disguise we have worn for so many years. It's not a step forwards - it's rewind. And from there, you can now move forwards.
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Welcome home hunnie,
Kate
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The novel I'm just reading had a lovely phrase about 30 pages ago, "still young enough to enjoy a new life but old enough to have banked the lessons he'd learned from the first one." Enjoy, dear, enjoy!”

My dear friend Jo’s memorable thoughts, on a memorable day for both of us:-

“This has been, and is, one extraordinary journey. Yesterday's insurmountable barriers fall away like dust when you realise who you truly are - and that your responsibility is simply to be that person. Nothing else. The world sees you doing it, and responds to that (though what the world does or doesn't do recedes from your mind rapidly..it seems a paradoxical accident that the more irrelevant others judgements of you become, the better and more supportive they become too). The dropping of the male mask is exactly how it felt yesterday - the jettisoning of something painful and interfering and unnecessary, to reveal the reality within. What was vaguely astonishing (in an unastonishing way) was how utterly easy it was, how unremarkable, how I realised all the assumptions and fears were mine - and mine alone to deal with.”
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Bless you all, my inspirational & supportive friends, each & every one of you.

Love
A tearful happy Debbie.

Monday 15 September 2008

Brave new beginnings


I decided to add the thoughts below as a further explanation of the previous post in another life:-
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What is brave?
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I am shy & vulnerable & the last thing I am is brave. For brave just think of the people in Zimbabwe.
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"Brave" the definition of brave used in reference to people like me is difficult to explain. I feel embarrassed when my friends have kindly called me brave or courageous for transitioning. I cannot claim to be either & feel very humble to be thought of in this way. Brave to me & many of my sisters is something that involves a choice. I am one person not schizophrenic yet now I can appreciate looking back that living as Rob may have been a courageous part of my life. I kept running & running away from my soul, refusing to accept my truth could actually be true. Pressured by my own insecurities/fears society & family pressures to try to conform to what I guessed was a masculine sterotype.
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My mental state had started to crumble quite badly by 2005 when the walkies with lions photo was taken. I had become rather reckless & numb to my feelings. In reality even on a trip of a lifetime I was unable to quieten my gender dysphoria. It roared like a lions call, inside my head. I was the only one who could hear it. If you look into my eyes in this picture they are dead, there is no sparkle. Look behind me & you will see another lion basking in the sun. I was beyond caring for my safety. There were guides around watching our every move but they rightly carry no guns. All they carry are small sticks to distract them. Only last year things went wrong & a tourist got mauled on the same trip. I chose to put myself in this situation. These are real wild animals & if anything went wrong it was me who deserved to die not them.
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In such an incredible place, experiencing true wonders of this beautiful world, I felt dead inside, nothing except that dysphoric roar tearing my heart out. I felt totally lost in a wilderness. This trip in retrospect was finally the beginning of the end of me masquerading as something I have never been in my life. If you cannot enjoy life in such incredible surroundings with such lovely friends what life do you have?
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Sharing what may be considered a macho image (see in another life) is very distressing for me. My dear Mum & dad bless them, would cherish this image, of the person they thought was a son. It tears me apart to show this facade, this person. Doing so for 46 years nearly killed me. Even now I cannot really look at it for more than a second or two. I guess seeing this brings back all the pain. In hindsight the bravest thing I ever did was to stop running, listen to my heart & stop to face my fears, my inner beasts my lions.
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This photo above has captured my creative imagination & one day soon I hope to paint "New beginnings!"Is that Lioness being welcomed into the pride being accepted as she is another sister? Why are those two lionesses looking so contented. Is the lion king dead or just sleeping? Did she actually find the strength to kill him herself or could it just be natural causes?
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For true bravery you just have to look at the population of Zimbabwe
Lets hope it really is
A Brave New Beginning for all the people of Zimbabwe today
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For all the poor people there to just have access to the basic necessities of life, is not too much to ask.
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Zimbabwe's President Robert Mugabe signed a historic power-sharing deal with his long-time rival, opposition leader Morgan Tsvangirai today. The two smiled and shook hands at the ceremony in the capital, Harare, which was attended by African dignitaries. Mr Tsvangirai said the agreement provided the best hope for Zimbabwe and called on President Mugabe to work together to implement the deal. Mr Mugabe said he was committed to national unity and would do "his best".
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My thoughts & prayers are with them all.
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Lots of love
Debbie

Sunday 14 September 2008

In another life


In another life, so my pet corgi informs me, this is a picture of him with his assistant Rob.
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This image has honestly not been photo shopped. That really is a welsh mountain lion & the person behind is actually a real ghost on a holiday of a lifetime!
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At 3 o'clock this Monday morning a lovely group of wildlife artist friends of mine are checking in for a flight to Tanzania. They will be seeing Kilimanjaro amongst other incredible inspirational sights both fury, feathered & fauna. This is a new destination for most of them. I am so pleased for them all. They are also stopping in lodges for the first time. A bit more comfort as the bones grow a bit older. We used to always camp out in the wilds on our previous trips to Africa. Camping proved quite a challenge for some one like me. Sharing a small tent, showers etc without the changes in my body being detected by my friends before I disclosed my condition to them, was really tricky. Baggy clothes & a safari jacket were a constant requirement even on blazing hot days. At least any lion with any sense of good taste would refuse such a badly packaged free lunch. On Wednesday a smaller group of roughy toughy Botswana buddies fly out to the amazing wilderness of Botswana, camping far from civilisation. Not a car nor a mallard in sight & certainly no mobile phones!
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I am so pleased for them all to be having such a fantastic adventure. I have no regrets or envy at not being able to join them. It is a wonderful experience & a real privilege to visit such a beautiful land. I was told "once you go to Africa, it gets into your blood & you just have to return" . For me & many of my friends that has proved to be so true. I will be with my friends in spirit this year. I have been so very very lucky to travel to Botswana three times , 2002, 2004 & 2005 all trips of a lifetime, with such delightful company. You become life long friends to many of the people you share such a life enriching experience with.
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The photo is from the African encounter/rehabilitation/reintroduction into the wild programme at Antelope Park in Zimbabwe in 2005. There were 250,000 African lions in the wild now there are only 20,000 & they are regarded as vulnerable. The reason for the reduction is man ,human habitation which drastically reduces their habitat, hunting, poaching & disease such as anthrax or Bovine TB. This lioness is only a year & a half old & was one of a pair we were so fortunate to walk with on a very hot day only hours after arriving in the country. You are given a lot of safety instructions before you set off. You must not stare at them or approach them with eye contact. Running is not a good idea. That's why they called it walking with lions. By now she should have been integrated back into the wilds & you certainly would not be able to walk with her now if she has survived. The ethics of the need for such a programme is open to debate but their principles seemed genuine. The need for a pure bred gene pool of African lions in the event of their numbers decreasing still further.
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It is not just the wildlife of Africa that is endangered. The people we met in Zimbabwe were extremely friendly, polite & helpful. The political situation was just on the verge of changing dramatically a few months after we left. It is heartbreaking to see the scenes on the news of this once great country, the "bread basket of Africa" is no more. You cannot help but think, would the rest of the world have stood back & let so many people be killed if Oil was involved?
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One of the new artists to join our art society is Zimbabwean. She & most of her family have tragically had to leave their home land. How sad it is that they have had to leave such a once beautiful country for fear of losing their lives. They have lost everything but they are some of the lucky ones, they have at least escaped torture & still have their lives. I cannot begin to imagine how the poor love has coped. Her brother is still out there trying to look after what is left of their farm.
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I am so grateful for my new life & could never go back to my previous existence.
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I hope & pray that one day the dear lady I met can return with her family to the far away land of her birth.
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One day we will return. Once visited Africa becomes part of your soul.
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Love
Debbie

Thursday 11 September 2008

The simple pleasures in life are free


The simple pleasures in life are free

Yesterday was another of those days in my wonderful life just now, that was full of joy. For some, my day may have seemed very ordinary but for me it was truly magicaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaal.

I managed to get out quite early for a refreshing, if a little damp, walk, with my elderly Dad & our doggy, along the river Itchen. My dear old Dad looks forward to his morning walk almost as much as our dog. His knees are quite bad & often painfully lock up on him so he is determined to keep going while he can, bless him. He likes to feed the birds, with leftover pieces of bread. He was followed along the river bank by a flock of crows as well as some enthusiastic mallards & coots. There was also a strange welsh mountain lion claiming to be a duck, hovering up all the crumbs. Any one watching would think we never feed our poor corgi! It was like watching a surreal version of “the pied piper of Hamilton” starring my Dad.

I am trying to fully focus on my future now but the poignancy of the distant roar of the heavy rush hour traffic signalling the “rat race” is in full flow, something that I could just not survive in a few years ago, was not lost one me. How lucky I was to be out of it, & instead sharing a walk with part of my beloved family. It is going to be a wrench to go back into the throng & leave this special place. A place filled with memories of the precious time I spent with my family & the wonderful community of dog walking friends.

Afterwards, I then took my dear Mum off to her hairdressers mid morning. I am only too pleased to take her as there is no bus available & as much as I love him, the thought of my nearly 84 year old Dad driving them both there gives me nightmares. Mum has been seeing the same hairdresser for thirty years & nothing but nothing stops her from having it done. She so deserves her bit of pampering.

While she is having her hair done I traipsed of round the supermarket doing part one of the family shop. Ordinary mundane stuff & yet it still brings a smile to my face. Food shopping just has to be got on with. Now clothes shopping that’s a different matter. As lady luck would have it Tesco’s did not have one of the food items Mum had asked for.
On the way home we went off to Marks & Spencer’s. I have been looking for some new shoes for any future job interviews I am fortunate enough to get. For some reason the food shopping was completely forgotten as the lure of the shoe department beckoned. Mum found a sweet pair of pretty black shoes for her holiday. She loved them but they were a lot of money. I offered to buy them for her but sadly her head ruled her heart & she declined suggesting they pinched slightly. We looked at many many more together.

We then went on to my favourite part of the shop, Per Una. http://www.marksandspencer.com/gp/node/n/43005030/202-3555186-1518228 I could not really afford their clothes but it did not matter. Window shopping is free. We picked out different skirts, tops, so many choices, gothic chic in sophisticated smokey blacks. Then we looked at a collection called Kasbah which I simply adored. They merged multi-ethnic influences with colour, textures & vibrant dyes. I was in heaven. These were the clothes that for me I had always dreamed of wearing but never believed I actually would. As far removed from drab, as it was possible to get. I had visualised wearing clothes like these to Art College as a teenager, many moons ago. We chatted away, laughed & joked about all the different styles. Totally relaxed as mother & daughter. I was unbelievably happy. We had bonded like never before. I asked my Mum did you ever imagine we could ever be like this together, so comfortable, so normal, & sooo incredibly happy. “No never” came her reply. We both had a tear in our eyes as we hugged. I estimated I could have spent around £500. Ironically when I had my career I could have done but I could not wear them then. It made no difference to me.

We were totally engrossed in our own little world oblivious to the world around us, & viewed by all who were there, with total inconsequence as just another family out shopping, just as it should be. I had in recent years due to ill health suffered numerous panic attacks in this busy store but on this memorable day, we never gave one thought, that it may happen once more. Another ghost buried & closure achieved.

On the way out we stopped off at the jewellery section to buy some imaginary jewellery for our imaginary outfits. All our clothes may have been imaginary but the feelings, the experiences were very very real. We were so incredibly lucky to have the chance to share something so special. We left the shop arm in arm with our cottage pie from the food department, with beaming smiles on our faces. We had found something that money simply cannot buy!

The simple pleasures in life are free.

We really are Mother & daughter. For the first time in our lives we were totally immersed in that feeling together. A very precious experience that I will treasure for the rest of my life.
We are,………………. just sooooooo happy.
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We were so fortunate to be able to share this precious family time together. I wrote this on a day that changed so many lives for ever seven years ago. Excluding the 19 hijackers, 2,974 people died in the attacks. Another 24 are missing and presumed dead. Just how many other innocent people have lost there lives since is incalculable. My heart goes goes out to them all & the families they left. Pivotal moments in time like these will never be forgotten. So many hopes, so many dreams gone in seconds. So many lives ruined.
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Tragic days like 9/11 stick in your mind for ever.

What if..., Why did...., if only....It is so easy to have regrets in life & dwell on your past. Life is so precious & is there to be lived, for we never know what lies around the corner.
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It is sometimes so easy to take life for granted.

After reading my dear friend Jo's blog there is even more emotion attached to this day in history & appreciation of how lucky I am. I feel so very humble. I cannot help but think how many other brilliant girl & boy, genius's were tragically lost to the world that day?

Take care
Love
Debbie



Saturday 6 September 2008

We are everywhere

I came across this beautiful poem by J Banks. It capture perfectly my feelings at this point in my journey, my life.
I lack the eloquence to put into words what she has described so poetically:-
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We are everywhere
by J Banks.

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We are everywhere. I try to tell people that, but they don’t seem to believe me.
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At the beginning of our journeys people see where you came from. In many ways, people tend to see where you were more than where you are. In another year, you will be even further on that journey - will they notice then?
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We are Doctors and Lawyers and Programmers. We are that woman at the gym, the woman in the grocery store.
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People see the extreme examples; people beginning their journey; people who aren’t even on the journey. From this small sampling they think they know us all.
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They don’t.
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We are the mothers dropping kids off at school. We are your brothers’ girlfriend.
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Not all of us are tall. Not all of us go to wild clubs. Not every one of us could have played football in school.

If you knew us ‘before’ you may not have thought we were gay. Or maybe you did.

We are writers and poets, drummers and speakers, dreamers and engineers.
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We are not an invading force. We don’t all know each other.
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We are not after your children. There is no recruitment effort.
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We are teachers.
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We did not make a choice; this is not an affectation. This is not for ‘kicks’.
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Not a third sex - Not a eunuch.
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We have desires like anyone else: health, companionship, community, security, wholeness.
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We have self worth. We have insecurities.

We want to be ourselves and be accepted as ourselves.
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We are everywhere, really.
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But, above all else....
We just are!