A year on.

It's been a year since I realised that I wasn't cisgender and I've come a long way since then. I've moved more towards the person I was always supposed to be, and that's only been possible with support from friends and family. Some, sadly, haven't been as supportive as I'd hoped, particularly when I did end up changing my name. Some simply can't see beyond the gender binary and will only see me as female. I've been fairly forgiving of the occasional slip with my name, but there are some who will always think of me by another name. That's fine, but don't speak to me using that name, that's just rude. You can't teach an old dog new tricks, but you can teach PEOPLE basic RESPECT and MANNERS. (s'cuse the caps, but it really annoys me that people try to shift responsibility for themselves by blaming their age, their generation, the length of time they've known me. You are responsible for how you respond and react to the world around you and it behoves you to treat people with a universally basic level of respect and dignity, like using the correct name/pronouns... anyway, moving on...)

I've been very lucky. Almost 10 years ago I met Bruce, and I knew almost immediately that he was special and that he was going to be a major player in my life. Two years ago, I met someone else who also triggered that response in me. Thankfully, everyone in our relationship is less concerned about societal norms and more concerned about the happiness of everyone involved, and we are all as happy as can be in the setting we are in. (a lottery win would be wonderful, but I think everyone has that on their list). I have been able to facilitate the creation of two wonderful little people who are the light and soul of my core existence, they've literally lit me up from inside and expanded what I thought my heart was capable of feeling.

This doesn't stop the dark times from being so very dark, however. Events this past year brought me to a low I've felt only a couple of times before and a long time ago, a low that I previously thought I would never see the other side of. Instead of dealing with things in a maladaptive manner (which in the past has facilitated the resolution of the darkness), I chose to feel it all, and for as long as it took to subside. Instead of hurting myself, I paid someone to do it for me (two new tattoos, before you get any kinky ideas). And, I survived. It was important for me to face that, to try and push through it, so that I could learn for myself that I needn't be afraid of it. It SUCKED. It was awful. But I lived. If it happens again, I know I can face it again, and live through it again. I have people to live for, people who anchor me to this plane. I will be eternally grateful for these people.

These days, if the subject comes up, I don't go through the laundry list of what other people think defines me, or should define me. I feel under no obligation to reveal my orientation, and I'll only correct people on my gender if it's annoying me how I'm being addressed.

I'm Cat. I'm queer. I'm happier than I was before. And I am only able to be this person because I stopped being who I wasn't.



For those saddened by paragraph 3, please consider donating to the charity who helped me through it, again.