Not every mother goes all agog when her darling little boy comes up to her and says, “Mommy, I want to be a girl.” I imagine that happens more often in stories here on TS/BC than in real life.

When I made it known I was TG and was beginning transition I was disowned by a father who’s favorite saying was ‘Blood is thicker than water.’ I guess I failed to heed the caveat to that which states, ‘so long as you live according to my standards.’

There are consequences for every action we take in our lives. Anyone who opts to board the Genderland Express must be prepared to pay the price for doing so. They must be ready to deal with the partial or total loss of loved ones, social acceptance and financial security. Society and its views on those of us who are transgender is changing. Believe me, I have lived long enough the see the difference. But we have yet to reach Nirvana, that mythical place where everyone loves everyone else and no one looks down upon another. (Ugly Fact of Life Number 2; Nirvana is a mythical place populated by demi-gods. The world we live in is populated by human beings).

You can of course moan and groan, bewailing your miserable lot on life for as long as you see fit to live it, or you can pick yourself up off the floor and do something positive and, from time to time have a little fun.

I, myself, have done what others before have. Rather than mouthing empty, sympathetic mutterings of how sorry I am someone else is going through what I have had to endure, I help others navigate their way through the difficulties they face as they travel the rocky road of transition. It takes more than being a spirit guide or cheerleader. You need to be ready to be there in good times and bad, providing sound advice when called for, holding hands when needed and, on occasion, letting the person you’re helping know in no uncertain terms they’re behaving like an idiot. Draw upon your own experiences and help those who are in need. By doing so you will give meaning to the life you have, which if I am correct, happens to be the only one you’re authorized.

As to having fun, well, here’s a little story. Being the sick puppy I am, when my last parent died and the time came for me and my two sisters to listen to the lawyer read my father’s last will, I sat off to one side and said nothing. In the will my father had made a point of stating that I was entitled to nothing. He of course justified it by claiming I’d been given everything I was entitled to during my life and therefore had no need of anything else. (Pause here while I bend of and pretend to sneeze while muttering BULL SHITE!).

The lawyer seemed to be nervous about the way I was behaving, sitting there quietly with a half smile on my face. At one point he stopped, looked over at me and asked if I had any questions or comments. I stifled my laugh and instead, smiled and said, “Oh, don’t mind me. Just think of me as the redheaded bastard who showed up at the family picnic.” Both my sister who had disowned me and the lawyer were, I dare say, speechless. And that, dear friends, was, as they say, priceless.

So stop your whining, pick yourself up off the floor and do something good for people who are in worse shape than you are. Trust me, as someone who lives less then two blocks from where Sandy’s storm surge stopped and did without power for over eleven days, I know they, (the unfortunate people), are out there.

Nancy Cole
a.k.a. The Wicked Witch of the Nothereast