What The Hell Have I Learned.....

It's been two years this month since I decided to go full-time as a transwoman of color. I don't have any regrets about the process I went through in becoming Kayleah H. Madison then or now. Any transwoman, regardless of what their age was at the time of their transition, will have a journey that may later be shared with others. Geez, this my first blog since late December, and many things have happened since the bulletins of the last blog. Shit. I wonder if the lessons I've tried to learn as Kayleah will make me a better person.

One main thing I haven't yet done since transitioning was... trying to love myself. It's so much easier when you have loved ones around you consistently. Chances may be good I spoke of this same shit in a previous blog. The hormones are slowly taking its course, knowing my doctor has a loathing for needles and prescribed me the estrogen in pills. Not in the having a greater rack category; for those results I should've transitioned 25 years earlier...with a skinnier ass! It's all mental, of course. My brain does absorb a shitload of information I know too goddamn well it won't be used. My weight? Another issue. Sure, I have those dreams of not being as plus-sized. Yet too many things cloud up that potential goal. I don't spend enough time after applying my makeup to be more accustomed to seeing a woman in the mirror. Just looking at the final result of that day's so-called glamour. 

Remember Bobby McFerrin's 80's hit "Don't Worry, Be Happy"? Well, I may have been an overjoyed girl in a hair salon when my name was legally changed last October, but I haven't had the luxury of resuming the excitement after the hoopla ended. As with church folk, transpeople who commonly fraternize with others are more likely at ease. Kinda like the family that should've supported their kin after they came out instead of tossing them like rag dolls. Being an introvert with no social life or my own set of wheels doesn't help much. Something I've been desperately trying to remove from my persona. 20-plus years removed from graduating from college and I'm still looking for some people to routinely hang out with. If they ask about me being a transwoman or how I use the bathroom, I'll tell them the appropriate answer, then remind them it's none of their fucking business!! My churchmates? Well, they're mainly middle-aged and already have their own activities. Bummer. 

This feels like the disappointing sequel to the sleeper blockbuster. I mean I should be doing something exciting to really commemorate legally being a transwoman in this sleepy small city with no close friends. I had thought being a member of Spring Creek UCC here would help me "come out of my shell" more often. So-so results to date. Writing block is preventing me from saying anything else.

Since the evening in April 1998 in Milwaukee, I've almost never forgot to wear foundation prior to putting on a face. Something you'd think every woman did on a daily basis. But Sundays are the only time to get dolled up a bit for church. The night before, they let it all hang out...sometimes. The point of this is I admit I do use a bit of foundation to cover up whatever masculine features arise after washing up. Real women don't use foundation on a daily basis, so I've seen. I do allow the makeup on my face to dominate my facial appearance. Yes, I love my multiple shades of cosmetics from eyeshadow to (my favorite) lipstick, however I realize it's not supposed to take over my face...just help bring out my feminine beauty. So damn hard to do. People have referred to me as a woman almost solely by either my earrings or my hair. Eh, it does help make the girl, right?