"Do or Do Not..." Is that My Only Choice?

The Moffat Railroad tunnel runs under James Peak starting just west of Rollinsville and ending outside Winter Park.  Its 6.2 miles long and no matter how hard I stare into the black depths I don't see very far.  The tunnel only has one train track laid and no place to turn around.  When a train goes in the only option is to keep going until it comes out again on the far side.

Transitioning, when I began, felt like that for me.  There didn't seem to be any path for which the way was certain and ended in peace.  Between my own fears and what I learned from others I saw misery, whether I transitioned or remained as I was.  And I believed once I started a path there wouldn't be any other choice but to keep going until I was through.  Like the Moffat tunnel, the future was unknowable from the starting point and that was scary.  It was the first time in my life where I had no faith in my destiny.  And no little green guy standing beside me to assure me this is the only way.

It is a testament to my need to become who I truly am that I stepped into the dark despite my misgivings, fears, and beliefs.  Aside from preparing for the worst, as so many had indicated could and would happen, I was deliberately giving up a lot of my hopes and plans for the future.  Transitioning felt, in my mind, like voluntarily ostracizing myself from society.  Just like becoming a Jedi meant a life apart, lonely and austere I believed transgender was a who, not a what and forever set me at odds with the world.  Transgender Wren surely would not be able to travel abroad or have a well paying career.  Transgender Wren would never see her dream of living next to the ocean come true.  Transgender Wren wouldn't be invited to play reindeer games... and a lot more.  In fact it was like looking at a list and crossing off all the things on it and replacing it with one giant checkbox - TRANSITION.

I'm not sure I ever fully articulated to anyone my feeling that transitioning took the place of every other goal in my life.  I mean, who's going to understand, other than another transgender.  It's only very recently, 3 years along, that I'm realizing the narrowness of my view.  Realistically, transitioning isn't actually like that.  It isn't being put in a plastic bubble or being made a zoo exhibit.  There are some I am around regularly who come pretty close to considering me an experiment.  Curiosity is not wrong, but it needs to be conducted with a little bit of tact and respect.  I try to correct them in the gentlest way possible.  This isn't a battle, lightsabers crackling and flashing as I bludgeon the other person into understanding me!

I can't say for sure I've traversed the entire length of the tunnel, faced the darkness and am seeing the light on the other side.  But, all of a sudden, I feel like I can pull out my list of unfinished dreams, goals, and ambitions, and write them back in.  Because I'm not just a transgendered woman.  I am also capable of pursuing other desires.  And, oddly, my first meeting with my "dark side" has built strength in me where none lived before.  I think one saving grace was denying myself the option of hiding away from the world on some far away swamp planet.  Yes it is safer and more comfortable, but evolution doesn't happen in such environments.  There isn't much to be learned staying in night after night.  I could practice blow drying and makeup techniques over and over until my fingers were numb.  How would I emerge from that scenario?  Like an effeminate man who is very good at makeup and hair and cross dresses?  The only way to understand my role in society as a woman and amass decades of knowledge is by doing it the same way I learned how to be a man...getting out there and living.  

Curious as to what's on Wren's to do list?  I think that should wait for another time.  So I'll wrap this blog up with a little quote.

"It is not in the stars to hold our destiny, but in ourselves."  - William Shakespeare
or in Yoda's words, "May the Force be with you."