Hatteras

"Isn't it great that we can do this?" my friend Lisa asked.  Why yes Lisa, it is.  It's great that we can go anywhere we want to now.  It's great that we can just throw on some shorts, flip flops and a tee shirt (whatever) and head out the door like any other woman.  It's great we can go to all these places and no one gives us funny looks, says anything odd or calls us anything other than ma'am.  It's just awesome.

Lisa made this remark to me last week when we cruising down Cape Hatteras on NC 12 late in the afternoon.  The day started out at 10 AM when I hit the road for the coast and lunch at the beach with my BFF.  She had just celebrated her birthday a couple of days prior so I thought I would take her out to a cool restaurant in Nags Head that she had never visited before.

waiting for our table at Sam and Omie's

After an easy 2.5 hour drive through the flat farmland and forests of northeastern North Carolina, I arrived at Sam and Omie's right on time, at 12:30.  As unusual as it is for me to be on the dot on time, Lisa thought I was getting there at noon.  Oh well, we were in her neck of the woods so she found something to do while waiting for me. 

We had a great chat and a nice seafood lunch, then we needed to find something to do for a few hours.  The plan was to go pier fishing late in the afternoon when the Spanish Mackerel might be biting, as I'm still trying to find a good day to fish with Lisa on the Outer banks.  I didn't feel like burning up in the sun all day at the beach, as the summer weather has already set in down here, so we wracked our brains for something to do and finally came up with a surprising idea.  We would go shopping for awhile.

Mirror shot while shopping in Dress Barn at Tanger Outlets in Nags Head, NC

So we went to the outlet mall at Nags Head for awhile.  Because it's early beach season it was fairly crowded but not too bad to make shopping a pain.   There were a lot of people there though and a lot of kids running around.  No one seemed to give us a second glance or a second thought.  This is just typical for us and we don't think about it (anymore at least) but I mention this for those of you who are not yet comfortable going out or fear people's reaction in such open places.  Lisa and I are pretty passable, if that is a good word to describe looking and acting like any other women.  Well we are just any other women, but when I go out with those who don't consider themselves as passable we don't have any problems either.

Driving down NC 12 on Hatteras Island.

We got tired of shopping after awhile (yes, I just said that) and as it was still the heat of the day we decided to do something neither of us had done in awhile, drive all the way to Buxton and the Cape Hatteras lighthouse.  In fact we decided to go all the way to the end of the island at Hatteras.   We visited the lighthouse, the boat docks at Hatteras and walked out on the 2 ocean fishing pier's on the island. 

I have to admit to having an emotional moment as we passed by the KOA campground at Rodanthe.  My dad and I spent several days there a few years ago and I'm still at the stage where almost anything that brings a memory of my times with him will bring tears.  After that "moment" we walked out over the ocean at Rodanthe Pier and then I fixed my eye makeup in the ladies room before we got back in the car.

Having fun on Rodanthe Pier

The famous Cape Hatteras Lighthouse in the background...

The wind just wasn't blowing in the right direction for fish to be biting that day, so we decided not to fish that afternoon.  We just did the abbreviated tourist thing on the island which brought back different memories for each of us as we've both spent time there during our lives.  It was a beautiful day, though hot and humid, so riding in the car between the stops was a good way to stay cool and have some great conversation. 

We talked about our pasts' (other lives) but also about the paths we had taken to get to where we are now.  Lisa had actually been to Hatteras many years ago, dressed as herself, and walked into a grocery store to buy a few things.  She described how differently it feels now, as then she just nervously made her way in and out of the store and now she is comfortable going anywhere.  Times have changed but the biggest changes occur when we finally accept ourselves fully and begin our journey down the path of living our lives as ourselves all of the time.

Come see the Avon Pier..

After our afternoon at Hatteras we made our way back up north to Nags Head for dinner at one of my favorite little dives on the OBX, Tortugas' Lie.  We had an excellent seafood meal, a couple of margaritas and more good conversation.  An interesting thing happened there that became the subject of conversation on TBN Support, my Facebook support group.

Tortugas' is a little restaurant/bar but it gets very crowded and they have recently expanded by adding another dining room.  One thing they haven't expanded yet is the restrooms and there is only one, single stall bathroom for men and one for women.  As I was walking to the ladies room another women went in before me and locked the door.  I stood outside waiting and after a few moments a woman walked out of the mens' room.  I think she was one of the waitresses.  Right after that another woman walked up, looked at me and said, "I'm going to do what she did."  So she walked in the men's room and locked the door. 

I stood there for a minute or two, thinking about this situation, and I decided that I would go in whichever rest room opened up first.  It turns out that the woman in the men's room came out first and since no one else was there in the hall, I went in there, locked the door and did my business.  When I walked out there were two men standing by the door and I said "excuse me" as I walked past them.  When I got back to out our seats at the bar, I described to Lisa how that was not as weird as I thought it would be.

What I had done, in my opinion, was what any other woman would have done in that situation.  In fact, two women had done the same thing right before me.  A couple of people in our group stated that under no circumstances would they ever go into a men's room again and one even made the remark that this kind of thing could potentially set be a setback transgender bathroom right's.  I say that's rubbish and while I would prefer to never go into a men's room and hope not to anytime soon, if I do so it is because I'm doing the typical thing for a woman in this situation.  Yes, it happens all the time in places where the women's room is crowded and the men's room is not, particularly where there are individual restrooms.  I am pretty sure I will never go into a men's room in which the door doesn't lock, no matter what the other ladies are doing.

Lisa and I at Tortuga's Lie before going in for dinner

The point of this post alludes to my whole message in general and one of the main reasons I write this blog.  The fact that we can be ourselves (whatever that is for each of us) is something that can be an liberating experience.  Too often we let our fears govern our actions and keep us from doing what it is that we want to do, often what it is that we need to do.  This doesn't have to be the case and I am living proof of that. 

Lisa has a longer history of going out in public as herself than I do.  She made forays into "the real world" long ago but her fears kept her from really pursuing it although she did have a couple of very negative experiences that exacerbated those fears.  My fears held me back completely until about 10 years ago when I first began to unlock them and take the first solid steps toward coming out.

When our paths first crossed a couple of years ago, Lisa was amazed at how brave I was for going anywhere I wanted to but she knew she was getting a point that she needed that too.  Now she inspires others with her life and her amazing smile. 

Just like she told me earlier that afternoon, it Is Great that we can do this!

Telephone

I saw that I'd missed a call on my telephone the other morning.  The ringer had been off while my mother and I were in a meeting at the bank, taking my dad's name off their checking account.  It was not a happy morning and yes there were tears.  This whole experience of losing my father is really wearing me down.  People tell me that with time it will get better, but right now as more time passes it is getting worse.

There was the initial shock of his passing, that whole tragic week from the time he fell and went into the hospital and then the morning he died in his sleep.  There was a lot of grief and then we had to plan the funeral, have all the visitors and then the actual funeral.  With so many people around, many of them strangers or people I hadn't seen in years, a sort of sad numbness set in.  The word surreal does not begin to describe that whole experience, but having lived through it I somehow expected things would get easier on the other side.  I was wrong. 

At least for the time being, the grief is worse than ever and I am afraid depression has set in.  I haven't been drinking thank goodness, as that doesn't appeal to me any more except in social situations, but I have been eating horribly including consuming 8 donuts in the last 14 hours.  I'm looking for comfort.  Something has got to come along and make this all better and it is better when my baby is here.  He'll be visiting again tomorrow.

I've got so much to write about this whole experience and much of it is uplifting, really.  It's just been difficult to share right now.  But I will tell you about this phone call.  There wasn't a message left but after awhile I remembered and recognized the number.  It is the number of the fish farm where I used to work and I think I can figure out the scenario behind the telephone call.

With my dad's obituary being in the statewide as well as local newspapers, a lot of people we were out of contact with read it.  Writing that obituary was not easy but in some ways it was a joyous exercise in that I got to recount my dad's life.  Many of the things I wrote about I remember him telling me as I was growing up, especially the experiences he had before I was born.  The obituary itself took up half a page in the paper.

So I am guessing that my old boss at the farm read the obituary and called me to offer condolences over my father's death.  I worked for this farmer for 8 years managing his new indoor fish facility.  He had experience with livestock and a degree from State University in crop science but my degree and expertise was in fisheries.  We are the same age and got along well, although like almost everyone else during that part of my life, we never became really close.  Don't let them get too close and maybe they won't figure out what's wrong with you.

The farmer is a big, tall man but has a gentle, soft spoken way about him.  His country appearance and rural associations belie his wisdom, education and general open mindedness.  I really believe he would be very accepting and possibly even understanding of my transition, if he knew.  My dad thought a lot of him and he thought a lot of my dad.  I am sure that's why he called, as well as to see how I was holding up.

One thing about my father's obituary has been interesting.  Because I wrote it there was no mention of my former name or existence.  All references to me, even in the past, were to Tammy.  We've had people ask, "what happened to his son?"  Well, now you know.

So I have considered calling back my old boss, the farmer, and talking to him about everything.  Honestly I would send him an email today but as of 6 years ago when we last spoke, he didn't use email.  If he does now I don't have his address and I looked but do not see him on Facebook.  Like I said, he is an educated man but someone who is sort of set in the old ways and maybe that is a good thing.

I will probably call him one day or just drop by for a visit.  I'm sure that he isn't the only one wondering what happened to me, with my name not being in the obituary.  And who is this Tammy Ann Matthews person.  He did know me well enough to know I didn't have any brothers or sisters.  Maybe word has gotten around, past the limits of my city, and now he knows all about me.

It's been very interesting, to say the least, to see how people reacted to me at the visitations and funeral.  My dad being such a public figure really made me want to keep a low profile and try to live a life that wasn't right for me for most of my years.  Having to see all the society people in this city really was not as bad as I thought it would be. I can say that everyone except two male cousins treated me very well and most expressed some positive words about my transition or new life, as well as their condolences over my dad.  No one sad an unkind word, the two redneck cousins were simply silent although Mitchell said one of them was giving him disapproving looks. 

I have so few friends from my old life that, with a couple of exceptions, no one contacted me about my father.  My new friends are a different story and I must say that we got several flower bouquets and cards during this tough time and a few of my friends even came to the funeral.  Stay tuned for all the details on this and how interesting it has been to be in the spotlight in this little city during such a terribly difficult time.   Right now though, I just need time to heal and I appreciate your patience and all of the love that has been sent this way by people who knew my father and people that know me but didn't know him. 

Truly I am blessed now to have such great people in my life and I was blessed in an amazing way to have a father who loved me so much his entire life and accepted me fully when I came out in 2012. 

The shadows of my old life are as faint as the dim ring of a telephone in the distance.  The shadow that my father cast before me will lead me to be the great person he always knew I could and would be.  I'm just so sad that he isn't here with me to share my future

but really, in an amazing way, he is and will always be with me.  Daddy I will always miss you and thank you for being here for me.  You are going to be proud of me!

but then again you always were.....

100 Days

My GRS, originally scheduled for June 16th has been delayed for 100 days.  Those of you who read my last post, The Premonition, will understand why, but due to my father's passing last week I decided to postpone it.  The new date is September 24, 2014.  If things had gone according to plan, Mitchell and I would be in Montreal right now and I would be checking into the hospital in 2 days for surgery Monday morning.
     

When my father was in the hospital, besides dealing with the anguish of seeing him that bed and the uncertainty of his recovery, I also struggled with the decision of whether to go to Montreal this month or not.  Honestly, when he first fell and was admitted to the hospital we assumed he would be home in a few days.  As his stay drug on closer to a week, I felt like I had to make a decision. 

Some were telling me that if I delayed surgery I would face a huge penalty.  Indeed there is a 50% cancellation fee, but I always felt like they would work with me if I needed to reschedule due to a family emergency.  This wasn't about money anyway, it was about being home when my parents needed me.  It was only the day before he died that I decided I couldn't go this month.  Before that it looked as if he would be stable enough for me to go away for a couple of weeks.

Since coming out to my parents in December 2012, my father supported my transition in every way, including having a desire to see me through GRS.  During my first year full time, when his mind was generally clearer, he would sometimes ask me when I would fully become a woman.  That is the way he looked at it.  He did address and treat me as a woman, although occasionally and understandably slipping into using my old name, but he knew there was something else I needed to complete.  


So my decision had been made the day before he passed away.  It had become obvious that no matter what happened I couldn't leave him right now.  Then on Tuesday June 3rd, my world came crashing down when he left it.  These last days have been hard on my mother and me, and Mitchell too because he is a part of the family now.  It's getting a little bit better for us day by day but we need time to heal and time to grieve.

There was just no way I was going to leave Mama alone right now or check into the hospital for this surgery on Father's Day.  Honestly, after this experience I don't even want to see a hospital right now much less enter one.  I am very disappointed that I'm having this delay but I feel that 100 days is the right amount of time to heal emotionally from the loss of my dad, enough to go through with the surgery.

Now that it's just a couple of days away from my original surgery date, I feel a little bad about it.  It's sort of like I am limbo until the beginning of fall, although any sadness about it is tempered by the loss I'm still dealing with.  I do want to thank Suzanne in Dr. Brassard's office for working with me to get the first possible surgery date after the doctor's long summer vacation.

Some things that were almost perfect about the original date were that it was just a few days before the summer solstice and the day I stopped taking hormones for surgery prep was just a little over my two year HRT mark.  Also, had things worked out I would hopefully be over the worst part of recovery by my birthday.  This is one of those "big" birthdays and now I will be "older" when the big event finally happens.

There are silver linings to this 100 day delay.  I will have all summer to get myself into the type of shape I wanted to be in for surgery.  I lost a few pounds over the last couple of months (half of what I wanted to lose) but did not reach my weight or fitness goals.  Everything would have been acceptable, but now I have another chance to truly get in the shape I want.  There is plenty of time.  I am just hoping for plenty of motivation to make it happen.


Now for the BIG NEWS.  I have already announced this surgery delay on Facebook but I have only informed a few friends of this new development......

My mother is going to go to Canada with Mitchell and I this September! 

When I first asked her she was like, No Way, she was not going to go.  By the next day, she'd had time to think about it and said Yes.  Now she is as excited as we are that she will be joining us for this great adventure.  I even took her to apply for her passport this week.

My mother, father and I visited Montreal when I was a young teenager and my main memory of that visit is the people speaking French.  Otherwise it seemed much like many of the other northern cities we visited during the summer vacations of my youth. 

This time will be Much different in a lot of ways.  We will get there a couple of days early so there will be a little time to sight see before I check into the hospital.  You know me by now, I don't want to go to a new place and not take some time to explore, no matter what I am there for.  Mitchell will have someone to talk to during the long hours that we have to be apart and Mama will have another chance to travel and something to look forward to between now and then.

So this big moment of transition is postponed just a little bit.  I am still going to have a great summer.  Actually, I will probably have more fun this summer than I would have because I won't be recovering but I am still so ready to finish this stage of transition and move on that I don't want to think about the delay.  BUT, I still have something to look forward to and it's not that far away. 

100 days.......

The Premonition

The Sign

For months the ground had shaken, at first just a rumbling here and there, then it became a regular occurrence.  Like clockwork, around 4 every afternoon you could hear a roar rolling down off the mountain.  The adults would begin to scramble about as the earth began to move.  Houses shook from their foundations, shingles falling off the roofs.  Inside, dishes fell from cabinets above.  Outside the windows apple carts rolled over, their contents rolling along the cobblestone streets. 

Screams filled the air each afternoon, but she reacted differently.  Annie was a quiet child, reserved, but some of the adults thought her to posses an inner strength that seemed puzzling.  Every day she stood and watched pieces of her world fall apart around her.  She formed the habit of going to the town's center every afternoon to stand and watch the madness unfold.  Her blank, silent stares often met the uneasy eyes of the townspeople as their world began its daily crumble.  They would look at her with disdain, or with envy, as her head turned, absorbing the little tragedy of the day.

The elders told a story of a great dragon who lived under the mountain.  The tall, rugged mountain that hid the sun each evening as it set in the west now appeared to be the source of a great unease settling upon the town of Parrish.  Some men spoke of a different source for the disturbances.  They said the mountain was a volcano, of a volatile geology that had been reported in lands across the sea.  Little Annie knew the truth, but she spoke not a word of it.

Many dark tales had been passed down of the dreaded dragon.  Asleep he was, under the great mountain, where he had lay down generations before the people of Parrish settled the plain.  The farmland that stretched as far as the eyes could see, and the forest beyond, were once the habitat of the foul wyvern.  Tales most would say are just an ancient folklore, a myth not worthy of conversation.  Now, seeds of doubt were taking root.

A contingent of men, the town's few remaining warriors, began to plan an expedition to the great mountain known as Winoa.  They planned to travel through caves to find the source of the earth's violent episodes.  If a dragon was there and was awakening, they planned to slay it. 

Many called the warriors fools, but their fears compelled them to give the fighter's supplies for their impending mission.  Some began to pack and head for eastern lands where they hoped they could find safety from a disaster that seemed more inevitable with each passing day.  Most could not leave, their roots were too deep.  Their lives were tied to the land and their fortunes tied to the maturing crops in the fields.  In the eyes of many in the village, there was hope that the problem would go away.  In the eyes of them all there was fear.

There was one exception, among those old enough to walk and speak, to the fear that permeated the town of Parrish and it's surrounding lands.  Young Annie had been having dreams, for as long as she could remember, of a Hero who would arrive on a great stallion and slay the terrible Dragon that also inhabited her dreams.  The Hero would ride in from the north and save the town, as it faced despair in the darkest moment imaginable.  Was that moment approaching?

For a few days, as spring tuned to summer, the ground did not shake at its regular time and a calm seemed to creep back into the village.  Around 4 in the afternoon, the people had learned to take cover and cower in a panicked fear.  With the reprieve, there came more activity and things seemed to begin returning to normal.   The warriors now sat in the afternoon drinking beer and talking of their coming trek, but they no longer were gathering provisions.  Then one day there was change.

As the sun rose over the sea to the east, a loud crash echoed across the lands.  Dirt and rock blew to the sky from the western mountain.  For a moment the ground shook so hard that noone could stand.  In those few seconds some wondered if Winoa was indeed a volcano and if it had erupted.  Soon, the questions were answered by the great shadow that emerged from the mountain, moving over the forests and across the plain.  A dragon did exist and it had awakened.  Escaping its ancient lair as the day began, the people came out to watch its massive body glide over the plain as it flew towards the helpless town. 

The dragon first circled the town to the east, blackening the rising sun.  People were running, screaming, heading for cover and looking for their loved ones.  In a matter of moments it seemed as if all hopes were lost.  And out of the shadows walked Annie.  She held in her hand a silver talisman her grandmother had given her years ago, at the time of her birth.  In her dreams she would hold the charm up to the sky and the Hero would appear.  As doom set in across the town of Parrish, one ray of hope gleamed in a child's eye.
         

to be continued....


part 2 

Fade Away

Young Annie emerged from the shadows as the chaos permeated the panicked village of Parrish.  An ancient dragon had emerged from the faraway mountain of Winoa, confirming the folklore of some of the more eccentric elders.  The beast now seemed to torment the townsfolk as it flew in circles over the surrounding fields.  To the people, there appeared to be no route of escape.

Annie stood tall, there in the center of the town's square, and held up a mysterious silver charm her grandmother had given her when she was a very small child.  That gift was indeed her first memory.  Screams filled the air as the villagers ran this way and that, but Annie stood in silence.  A steadfast gaze grew over her milky face as she lifted the talisman up towards the sun.  As the dragon again flew overhead, momentarily darkening the sky, Annie began chanting the words she so vividly recalled from her dreams.

"Ombus, Ombus, Array," she yelled upwards to the sky.  "Ombus, Ombus, Array!"  She screamed, her voice still barely noticeable above the chaotic cacophony that surrounded her.  At this point, in her dreams, the Hero would ride in from the north, draw his mighty bow and fire an arrow that would pierce the dragons steely scales. 

Annie had long dreamed of a spot on the dragon, near its heart, where one of it's hardy scales was missing.  The Hero would know of this spot and his bow's deadly accuracy would prove to be the mighty wyvern's downfall.  Her dreams did not reveal what would become of the town, or the people of Parrish.  The dreams simply ended in the dragon's fall to earth and its stillness thereafter.


"Ombus, Ombus, Array!" Annie persisted, and finally a distant, moving dust cloud revealed a rider approaching the village from the north.  The Hero had come!  Hope was on the way!  No one in the town noticed this activity but Annie.  She now stopped her chanting, her eyes fixed on the horizon as she silently watched the events of her dreams unfold before her eyes. 

The dragon's passes over the village had become lower, closer to the ground as it tightened its overhead circles.  Some were heard to scream, "All is lost!" when the first breaths of fire from the beast began to scorch the surrounding croplands.  In her mind, Annie directed the great warrior of her dreams to prepare for the monster's assassination. 

In the distance she watched as the Hero drew his mighty bow.  Most of the townspeople had taken some form of cover in an attempt to escape the imminent wrath of the airborne dragon.  Annie stood alone.  In her starry eyes, the massive arrow left the great bow and flew in slow motion toward the angry beast. 

The hopeful gleam faded away from Annie's eyes as the dragon suddenly turned its flight upward, causing the arrow to miss.  Quickly, she drew her head back to the Hero's position but distance kept her from expressing her anguish.  In her dream this Hero, a Champion, had fired only one arrow. 
    

The dragon now turned it's flight downward towards the village.  The Hero had vanished.  His mission, though failed, was complete.  The morbid dread of her fellow villagers now infiltrated Annie's soul.  The gruesome beast's descent was preceded by a morbid screech and a wall of molten fire.  As Annie, still standing alone, felt the first pains of blistering heat on her silken skin, all hope was indeed lost. 


*******

The Premonition

My most recent post and part 1 of the preceding short story, The Sign, was something I was thinking about while laying in bed early last Tuesday morning.  In my head I was developing a tale to symbolize the real life struggle that my father was experiencing.  One week prior to that Tuesday morning he had been admitted to the hospital after an early morning fall. 

On that Tuesday of his fall, my phone rang shortly before 7 am.  It was my mother informing me she needed help right away.  Mitchell was there at my house and we both dressed quickly, got in the car and rushed down the street to my parents' home.  What I saw that morning sent me into hysterics.

My Daddy was laying on the ground face down, but he was still breathing.  Mama hadn't done it yet, so I called 911 and within a couple of minutes the first responders, then the rescue squad showed up.  I couldn't stop crying, or shaking, but I was relieved that help had arrived and Daddy was going to the hospital.  Hope was not lost.

Over the next few hours he was able to regain consciousness enough to prove he could move all of his limbs, speak some and he even recognized me.  We feared that he'd had a stroke that precipitated the fall, but tests could not confirm such an event.  Later that Tuesday afternoon they moved Daddy out of emergency Intensive Care and into a regular hospital room.

Over the course of the next week we had one scare when Daddy's vital signs deteriorated but soon he had stabilized and he was moved back into his regular room.  For the next few days he slept most of the time and was very, very weak but he did wake up from time to time and communicate with us.  He was in bad shape from whatever neurological event had occurred, and physically beat up from the fall, but he seemed to be slowly getting better.

The following Monday, after 6 days in the hospital, he seemed to take a slight turn for the worse and we became concerned.  I held his had for a long while, talking with him, but I could not hold back the tears.  I hated seeing him in such a state, and we didn't know how well he would recover, but we were making plans to have more help available when he came home.

Mitchell had gone back to work for a few days after Daddy's fall, but he was back with me that Tuesday morning last week.  As I lay in bed thinking of an epic story to describe my feelings on my father's struggle (my way of dealing with it), the phone rang again. 

Almost exactly one week to the minute of the time she called alerting me to his fall, Mama was calling me to tell me to come to he hospital as soon as I could.  They didn't think Daddy was going to live much longer.

Mitchel and I threw on our clothes, got in the car and rushed to the hospital.  I was crying and shaking the whole way.  Although all week I had been hopeful, I didn't have a good feeling that morning.  When we got to the room Mama was standing there and told me he was gone.  A massive chunk of earth fell away below my feet as I stood there, but I managed to leap over the chasm to his bed to hug him for awhile.

There was no way for my story to have a happy ending, no matter how much I wanted it to turn around.  As I stood there in that room, with others around me, I was alone as I felt the burning pain move down my spine and into my soul.  All hope was indeed lost.

The Sign

(also part 1 of The Premonition)

*******


For months the ground had shaken, at first just a rumbling here and there, then it became a regular occurrence.  Like clockwork, around 4 every afternoon you could hear a roar rolling down off the mountain.  The adults would begin to scramble about as the earth began to move.  Houses shook from their foundations, shingles falling off the roofs.  Inside, dishes fell from cabinets above.  Outside the windows, apple carts rolled over, their contents rolling along the cobblestone streets. 

Screams filled the air each afternoon, but she reacted differently.  Annie was a quiet child, reserved, but some of the adults thought her to posses an inner strength that seemed puzzling.  Every day she stood and watched pieces of her world fall apart around her.  She formed the habit of going to the town's center every afternoon to stand and watch the madness unfold.  Her blank, silent stares often met the uneasy eyes of the townspeople as their world began its daily crumble.  They would look at her with disdain, or with envy, as her head turned, absorbing the little tragedy of the day.

The elders told a story of a great dragon who lived under the mountain.  The tall, rugged mountain that hid the sun each evening as it set in the west now appeared to be the source of a great unease settling upon the town of Parrish.  Some men spoke of a different source for the disturbances.  They said the mountain was a volcano, of a volatile geology that had been reported in lands across the sea.  Little Annie knew the truth, but she spoke not a word of it.

Many dark tales had been passed down of the dreaded dragon.  Asleep he was, under the great mountain, where he had lay down generations before the people of Parrish settled the plain.  The farmland that stretched as far as the eyes could see, and the forest beyond, were once the habitat of the foul wyvern.  Tales most would say are just an ancient folklore, a myth not worthy of conversation.  Now, seeds of doubt were taking root.

A contingent of men, the town's few remaining warriors, began to plan an expedition to the great mountain, known as Winoa.  They planned to travel through caves to find the source of the earth's violent episodes.  If a dragon was there and was awakening, they planned to slay it. 

Many called the warriors fools, but their fears compelled them to give the fighter's supplies for their impending mission.  Some began to pack and head for eastern lands where they hoped they could find safety from a disaster that seemed more inevitable with each passing day.  Most could not leave, their roots were too deep.  Their lives were tied to the land and their fortunes tied to the maturing crops in the fields.  In the eyes of many in the village, there was hope that the problem would go away.  In the eyes of them all there was fear.

There was one exception, among those old enough to walk and speak, to the fear that permeated the town of Parrish and it's surrounding lands.  Young Annie had been having dreams, for as long as she could remember, of a Hero who would arrive on a great stallion and slay the terrible Dragon that also inhabited her dreams.  The Hero would ride in from the north and save the town, as it faced despair in the darkest moment imaginable.  Was that moment approaching?

For a few days, as spring tuned to summer, the ground did not shake at its regular time and a calm seemed to creep back into the village.  Around 4 in the afternoon, the people had learned to take cover and cower in a panicked fear.  With the reprieve, there came more activity and things seemed to begin returning to normal.   The warriors now sat in the afternoon drinking beer and talking of their coming trek, but they no longer were gathering provisions.  Then one day there was change.

As the sun rose over the sea to the east, a loud crash echoed across the lands.  Dirt and rock blew to the sky from the western mountain.  For a moment the ground shook so hard that noone could stand. In those few seconds some wondered if Winoa was indeed a volcano and if it had erupted.  Soon, the questions were answered by the great shadow that emerged  from the mountain, moving over the forests and across the plain.  A dragon did exist and it had awakened.  Escaping its ancient lair as the day began, the people came out to watch its massive body glide over the plain as it flew towards the helpless town. 

The dragon first circled the town to the east, blackening the rising sun.  People were running, screaming, heading for cover and looking for their loved ones.  In a matter of moments it seemed as if all hopes were lost.  And out of the shadows walked Annie.  She held in her hand a silver talisman her grandmother had given her years ago, at the time of her birth.  In her dreams she would hold the charm up to the sky and the Hero would appear.  As doom set in across the town of Parrish, one ray of hope gleamed in a child's eye.

to be continued....

The Shell

While walking along a quiet beach, I came across a seashell lying on the hard sand there at the water's edge.  Unlike the other shells I'd come across that day, this shell was intact and its origin was of a different species than any of the other shells I had seen on my walk.  It caught my eye so I picked it up and admired it.  It was not a big shell, nor was it perfect, but it was beautiful.  The shell wanted to go home with me so I put it in my pocket and walked on down the beach.

But for one small imperfection it would have been a perfect shell.  Still, to me the shell carried meaning.  The uncrowded beach had provided a place for contemplation and meditation as I spent the day looking back on my life and thinking ahead to the great changes that are on the horizon.  So this one shell appeared at this one moment in time and I picked it up.  We share an imperfection and now we share a destiny.  A new talisman had fallen into my hands.



Fishing

I have spoken of my desire to drive to the Atlantic Ocean and go fishing on one of the many piers on the North Carolina Coast.  Recently, an opportunity presented itself for me to meet with a friend I'd met online at the Oceanna Pier and spend an afternoon fishing, so I got in my car and drove to Atlantic Beach to meet my new friend Laycie Lynn.

Laycie was at the beach with her mother and brother.  Although she's come out to much of her family, they don't yet know that she is transgender and in transition.  So it would be her "other side" that went fishing with me that afternoon, which was ok with me.  I was just happy to have the opportunity to go pier fishing, which I've enjoyed most of my life but been hesitant to indulge in since I've transitioned.  You might say that going fishing on a public pier was one of my last frontiers as a woman.

The fish had been biting in the days prior to my arrival so I was really excited to get to the ocean and see what I could catch.  My favorite fish to catch off the pier are Spanish Mackerel and Bluefish and my favorite way to catch them is by casting artificial plugs, which mimic the baitfish they feed on.  Laycie had been at the beach for a couple of days and told me of a school of Spanish that showed up at 6 PM the evening before my visit.  I was hopeful that would show again the day I was there and if conditions stayed the same it was a pretty safe bet.

I left late Thursday morning even though I'd risen with the sun.  Visiting my parents, walking my dogs then putting them in the kennel and packing the car took most of the morning.  An arrival time of mid afternoon was perfect anyway as I intended to fish until dark.  These fish tend to bite better in the first and last couple of hours of the day.

With rain in the forecast for Friday and possible storms that afternoon, I hurried to make good time once I finally got on the road.  About 1:30 PM I arrived in Morehead City, right across the bridge from Atlantic Beach, and pulled in to El's Drive In restaurant.  At El's you pull into the parking lot and waitresses come out, take your order then bring your food to you.  It is one of the few old fashioned drive in eateries that remain and I ordered a shrimp burger and fries.  The fried shrimp and french fries are not the best food for me, but they are comfort food and would fill me up as I anticipated having a late dinner.

After finishing lunch in the car I drove the last few miles to the Oceanna Motel, which is connected to the pier as part of the Ocenanna Resort.  I didn't spend too much time in the room after I checked in and made it on the pier around 3 PM.  Pier tickets are included in the price of the room here plus it's nice having everything right together.

In my room, getting ready to walk to the pier

Walking out over the ocean on the worn, wooded planks of the pier, I felt a little bit of pride and relief for having finally conquered this goal.  You see, I think I believed that by going fishing people would gender me as male or wonder why a woman would be coming to a pier by herself and going fishing.  At the very least they might be staring at me.  My friend wasn't there yet so here I was walking out to go fishing alone.  No one gave me any looks or said anything out of the way and I even saw several other fisherwomen among the sparse crowd trying their luck that day.  One women, fishing across the pier and down a ways from me, may have even been fishing alone or either her party was elsewhere on the pier.

I started casting the red and white lure with gold hooks and reeling it back to the pier.  Others were casting these plugs off the end of the pier but I positioned myself close to the end but not right with the crowd.  This way people wouldn't crowd around me and if I saw the others catching fish and I wasn't, I could always move.  No one seemed to be catching anything on the lures but the bait fishermen were pulling in a few small ones.  The water had a cloudy tint and even though it wasn't too rough, I was becoming concerned that it was too turbid for the type of fish I was after to bite lures.

After awhile Laycie showed up and joined me at my little spot near the pier's end.  We talked and fished for a couple of hours but it soon became apparent that this was not a great day for fishing.  "You should have been here yesterday" is an old slogan for pier fishing and it was proven true once again on this cloudy day. 

People around us reeled in a few very small fish and I hooked a small Bluefish that fell off on the way up from the water to the pier railing.  Laycie caught a small Blue on her bait rig and also a Hogfish that was big enough to keep, but I didn't feel like cleaning it to take home to eat.  I did want to catch enough Blues or Spanish to freeze for summer but something would have to change in order for that to happen. 

At one point Laycie asked me what time it was so I looked at my phone and told her it was 5 o'clock.  We'd been fishing together a little over an hour but hadn't had a really good conversation.  We stood next to each other for awhile as I cast my plug and she held her line with a baited rig held to the bottom by a lead weight.  After awhile she asked me again what time it was and it was now 5:45. 

We had a good talk during those 45 minutes and got to know each other a lot better.  Her struggle is similar what I am many other trans women have gone through.  Her next big hurdle is coming out to her mother and that is something I can really relate to.  Hopefully I was able to pass on some decent advice that afternoon.

We were getting ready to call it quits for the day when I finally had a solid strike.  It felt like a nice sized fish struck my lure and was now putting up quite a fight on the light rod.  I was using one of my new Ladies Light rods and reels I'd ordered online this spring.  Earlier, when I first got on the pier, a guy walked over to me and asked me where I got the ladies rods.  Maybe he wants to get one for his girlfriend or wife? 

The fish put up a good fight but I finally pulled it out of the Atlantic and onto the planks of the Oceanna Pier.  I'd finally landed a saltwater fish (as myself)!  It was not huge, barely big enough to eat, but it was an accomplishment and also the largest fish I saw caught on the pier that day.  Catching that Bluefish gave us hope so we stayed another half hour or so with no more bites.  Then we finally decided to head in. 

Over the last few hours I not only had a lot of fun bringing back one of my favorite old hobbies but had also gotten to know a new friend.  Sure, I didn't have any fish to take home to cook for Mitchell or my parents, but I'd had a good time.  I did break the ice and I did catch a fish, so overall the day was a success.  Overcoming one of the final fears of my transition (that I know of so far) would give me the confidence to do this anytime I want to and also make me question why I lacked confidence to fish around other people in the first place.  In yet another way in this amazing transition, I had come out of my shell.


A Dinner Surpise

Laycie was going to go to dinner with me but first she had to take her family into town to get them some supper.  So I had a couple of hours in the room to relax and catch up on the phone with everyone at home.  When Laycie finally showed up I got a surprise.  She'd brought some makeup and clothes with her and wanted to change in my room and go to dinner as Laycie.  That was cool, I thought, but then she told me this would be her first time going out as herself.  I thought that was way cool and I was happy to help her with eye makeup and the confidence to walk out the door for the first time.

It was just a few short years ago that I was in the same boat and I remember what a big deal it was to go out in public for the first time.  She wasn't going to start slowly either, but go to a restaurant on a busy Thursday night.  At least she would have me there to figuratively hold her hand as she made her debut. 

Laycie tole me that night that she didn't know she would have the confidence to go through with it, but she brought her things just in case.  With a little help from me she got ready, looked at herself in the mirror and decided she could do it.  Well, maybe I gave her a little nudge, but helping others take those first steps out is something I really enjoy doing.  It took me a long time to find people to help me and go places with me, so much so that I ended up making a lot of those initial strides alone.  Now I can really appreciate the value of having a big sister.

So that night I took Laycie on as a little sister and we headed out the door.  She was nervous and even told me she was shaking a little bit at the dinner table.  It didn't show and I think she presented well.  She even has a naturally feminine voice.  No one seemed to stare at us, the waitress treated us quite normally and she was even called ma'am when she ordered.  That always helps with the confidence.

Laycie feeling confident after ordering her first dinner as herself.  She said she was very nervous but it did not show.

At Amos Mosquitos on Laycie's first night out.

When we were walking to dinner, I told Laycie to stick with me, I do this all the time and it's second nature to me.  It is the first time out that is the most intimidating.  Going out as myself came naturally to me.  After the first time or two all I wanted to do was go out more and more.  Before too long it became very uncomfortable to Not be myself in public.  That's when I knew I had to transition, it wasn't just a desire anymore. 

We had a great time at dinner and hung out in the room listening to music for awhile after taking a stroll on the beach when we left the restaurant.  When it was time for her to go, Laycie had to take off the makeup and "put her mask back on" as she put it.  That is actually a very accurate description of how many of us feel.  I just know that she will keep making progress, go out more and more and probably come out to her mother before too long.

As she said in her blog, Pandora's box has been opened and it is going to be hard for Laycie to keep herself boxed in from now on.  I am just so happy to have her as a sister and to have been there when she came out of her shell for the first time.

Laycie and I in the wind outside Amos Mosquitos restaurant after dinner.

Alone

Sunday morning I awoke to the sound of wind and rain.  I looked outside and sure enough, the storm we had anticipated the day before had finally reached the coast.  Fishing was quickly ruled out, but I decided to put on my rain coat, shorts and flip flops and take a walk on the pier. 

There were a few men gathered around the door in the pier house, seemingly reluctant to set foot on the old wooden structure.  One of them advised me to be careful as I walked by them and onto the deserted pier.  They might have thought I was crazy, or just unusually brave but I really thought nothing of it.  It wasn't raining hard, the temperature was moderate and even though the pier was swaying with the wave action of the heavy surf, the turbulence of the storm was strangely comforting to me.

Having grown up visiting these old piers, I was used to being on the planks when storms moved them from side to side.  We never fished when it was this rough, but I always felt more of a connection to the earth and sea when the big waves rolled it.  The raw energy is refreshing to me.  Most of my life I've had occasional nightmares about being on a pier in an extremely violent storm, sometimes with approaching tidal waves.  I think it has been several years since I've had such a dream.  Maybe I found peace inside, but in real life I never feared the ocean.

Walking to the end of the pier, the wind fought me, trying to knock me off course.  I stayed upright and made it to the covered observation deck several hundred feet out into the white capped Atlantic. There I stood for a long while, until the rain stopped and the wind began to subside.  Then a few brave souls began to venture outside, having waited on shore until they deemed it safe enough or comfortable enough to walk out.  A pier employee walked along picking up the trash cans that had blown over and cleaning up the assorted debris the storm's action left behind.

My mind had been clear when the wind was howling.  The turbulence outside me brought a focus to the peace inside, as I contemplated where my life had been and where it was it was going.  The previous day had been my two year anniversary of beginning Hormone Replacement Therapy.  Actually I had forgotten that fact until a friend texted me to say Happy Anniversary. 

That day, a birthday of sorts, was spent relaxing, fishing and getting to know my new friend.  Today would be spent alone, reflecting on this fantastic journey.  As yesterday had been an anniversary, today was a milestone also.  Here at the ocean on May16th, I was one month away from a major turning point in my journey, Gender Reassignment Surgery.

In a month would come the culmination of my gender transition.  I was on the verge of a great ending but an even greater beginning.  It was a somber but relaxing morning in the storm.  When the clouds broke and the wind laid down I looked up and thanked God for bringing me to this point.  I felt, and I feel, ready to step forward.

This day would bring more times of peaceful reflection by the water's edge.  After leaving the pier as the others began to come out, I went back to my room and got ready to check out of the hotel.  Laycie came by for a brief visit and to say goodbye.  She and her family were heading back to far away Ohio.  They make several trips to the North Carolina coast each year, this one being their first of the season.  I told her I would try to come down and go fishing with her again this year, when I recover enough from my surgery.

After checking out of the resort I drove over to Beaufort for a pleasant lunch at a waterfront cafe and and a nice walk along the quaint town's main street, lined with shops and eateries.  This quiet coastal town was a good place for my soul to be on this reflective day.  Sometimes dining and walking alone can be a little awkward but it is just one of the things I've had to get used to in my new life.  Actually being out alone on this day, reviewing my journey and looking ahead, I came out of my shell a little more.

Dining alone for lunch at the Dock House restaurant in beautiful Beaufort, NC.

After lunch I drove back to the beach and visited Fort Macon State Park.  This historic site, located at Beaufort inlet, was the site of a Civil War fort.  On this day I walked the quiet beach where the sound meets the sea and continued my introspection.  The calm waters of Bogue Sound provided quite a contrast to the violent Atlantic surf I'd witnessed that morning.  My stroll took me all the way to the jetty at the junction of the sound and the ocean.  There I found the little shell that I picked up and sits by my bed today. 

The Shell

Bouge Inlet at Fort Macon State Park

The afternoon sun was bearing down on me so I walked back to my car and drove back to the pier.  The atmosphere was much different than what I'd experienced that morning.  People were fishing, though not catching anything significant, and surfers were out riding the waves.  I again walked to the observation deck and stood watching the water, the fishers and the surfers. 

Two surfers were out beyond the pier, trying to catch the larger waves that now only occasionally came rolling in.  One of the two surfers was female and as I watched her gracefully negotiate the tide, the thought came into my mind...If only I had had the chance to be a young woman how different my life would have been.  Would I have surfed the ocean waves? 

I was being given a second chance at life.  I can't question the past.  I can only be thankful for the new beginning.  The last few years, my transition, have been leading up to the coming moments.  Far from being over, this time of change will continue into the future.  Like the ocean, stretching as far as the eyes can see.

*******

 I drove the length of the island to come home a different way.  Late in the afternoon I stopped by Bogue Inlet Pier in Emerald Isle and spent some time on their observation deck.  I had a hard time breaking away from the ocean that day. 

The ocean had calmed down considerably that afternoon and it seemed more like the perfect beach day.  Many people were fishing on that pier but no one was catching anything.  On one side of the pier quite a few surfers were vying for the meager waves but on the other side a lone surfer used a paddle to ride the waves all the way from the end of the pier to the beach.  

After spending some more reflective time on the observation deck I took a long walk on the beach.  Before hitting the road for home I waded out as far as I could without getting my shorts wet, touched the ocean to my lips and told it goodbye.  I also said that I would be back.  

.

Halfway home, I stopped by this bucolic mill pond and admired the cypress swamp with Spanish Moss, taking one more opportunity to tune in with nature and focus on the journey ahead...

The sea is waiting for me to return, when my journey is complete...