Reflection & A Purpose, Part 1

This is my first blog since I was in Dallas for the Black Trans Awareness Cconference (BTAC) 8 months ago. Most of anything I posted from that went on Facebook, twitter & Instagram. You knew each of those nights ended long past midnight, and I had repeatedly fallen asleep in front of the laptop trying to blog about my traveling to Dallas for the first time on Night One. I do remember how comfortable those beds were at the hotel! I do recall on Facebook about what happened during the final interfaith session before we departed for home. (If you want to know what happened, you'll have to look up my FB page from the past May to discover everything). 

Now, back to the present. This blog that you're now reading will probably be a multi-part blog to close out 2019 and the conclusion to a lengthy decade that had brought me a plethera of events which landed me in more than a tub of hot water. A decade that I can say started out with too many questions about future living situations, employment, and who did I want to see myself appearing as in the mirror and ended realizing the person that had only been coming out since 1998 was to become my true identity. 

Mind you, before going to work last night, I had become dreadfully depressed with the holidays. Since my natural family has somewhat severed ties with me, it's just been me and the long-time roomie, Mariah, who's been my roomie for over a staggering 20 years now. We did get a nice early Christmas present from a friend of ours four years ago in our own home instead of residing in a dingly, damp motel room. It's not your average case of the holiday blues. I was getting so fed up with the 3-plus years driving a minivan with 200,000 miles and constant repairs under the starry skies, listening to people yak about their problems, with some running out of my cab before payment was made. I even had myself duped by three underaged girls going to a house in the wee hours! This was how my living was made, and this pissed off my mojo! 

In the 20 years calling Rockford home, the number of close friends I have made here can be counted...on one hand. I rarely see them, thanks to me either not getting out much, or constantly being at work. Sometime this fall, one of my closest friends, Gary Wilson, whom I've been friends with since metting up in church almost six years ago, mysteriously disappeared. As you may recall, we were regular attendees at the annual Chicago Pride Parade every year since 2014. Last summer, we took different trips getting there; me with a group in a party bus, Gary driving solo. In turn, we were starting to get bored doing it every year. I tried texting him, calling him, even stopping by his home. He did have his own ride for a time, a Jeep for which he was paying over $500/month in car notes. That was making his financial budget tight. One of the last times I saw him this year, he had his wheels repossessed. Gary did work in the next county, meaning having reliable transportation is a must. Sadly to date, his whereabouts are unknown. 

Remember my fellow BrewTown homegirl Libra (left)? Well, thankfully, she did respond to my text of badly needing one of my sisters to chat with. She also gave me her number to call her back, which I did. I called Libra up following my first run of the evening, unbeknownst to her that I almost broke down in tears while driving. She understood about me going through the so-called "holiday blues", and reminded me that just because I've been driving so many weekends believing I'm missing out on seeing a show featuring some friends at The Office (she did compete for Miss Forest City earlier in this milennium), they're will always be a show there. It was here where I first mentioned to Libra about me turning 50 in 2020. I started crying when I mentioned that I felt I haven't accomplished anything with my life. She stopped me right there. 
She reminded me that not only am I a #TaxiDiva, I am also a small business owner, a writer/blogger, and most importantly, a proud Black Trans woman. 

While this disussion was ongong, Libra asked me about my goals for 2020. "Aside from returning to BTAC?" I asked. She could tell that my ass was an uninspired mess. I'm well aware that repeated driving around Rockford has been beyond boring, at best. Coming back from BTAC had gotten a charge inside of me, yet this town isn't Chicago by a damn site. So this town had its first-ever Pride Month, which did include the ever-so controversial Drag Queen Story Hour. There was an equal bunch of protestors and supporters that gathered near the East State location of the Rockford Public Library system, and it gained some national exposure, too. When it comes to an actual LGBTQ+ community center here, as long as there are far-right supporters in this area, it'll never get done.  

I will say, however, that I seldomly realize that I'm expecting too damn much with getting the LGBTQ community together. Take for instance, the annual Transgender Day of Remembrance (TDOR) in November, where we get togther and call out the names of our fellow trans sisters, brothers and those non-conforming that were murdered due to senseless bullshit like disownment from their respective families. I actually participated with the local PFLAG chapter in this year's ceremony reading off some of the reported 311 names worldwide. Yes, there was a couple of news crews there (see left, with yours truly in the pink hair).  Everytime one of my sister's names were mentioned, I proudly said "Say Her Name!" It's a shame that I once again was mainly the lone Black trans person in attendance. If this was Chicago, Houston or somewhere that had a more larger Black presence, this TDOR would be more represented. This is where I expected too much. Yes, there are Black GLBTs here, just invisible. 

I should tell you that I pray the year 2020 is an awesome year for me. Since Libra already knows that my motivation skills basically suck more than a 20-year old vaccuum cleaner, she did tell me a way to motivate myself: talking to myself in the mirror. Call it self-encouragement, if you will. She also just happens to be a frequent follower of my blogs. OK, she said she might not actually post a comment, but does read them. Nice to know I have a fan or two that reads them. Strange that I have let my writing/typing skills get rusty in the 8 months since my last blogging hobby. 


If you know Libra, she will be bluntly honest with you when it comes to giving out advice like she did with me over the weekend. It's her personna, people! Kinda those Star Wars jerks who use the "Force" to fight Emperor Palpatine or your Uncle Murray, if you have one. She told me that I need to get my own personna to help me get through my days and nights. Just like the "U" of Miami's football team did in throughout the 80's & early 90s with their swag, what can I use for my own thing? It'll help when someone looks to me for the answers. At least my skin's nice & thick....