On Puberty at 37
Someone made a comment a little while ago about my moodiness lately. "You're acting like a stupid teenager. I'd expect that sort of thing from my kids!"
I was a little hurt by this at first, but I've noticed some patterns repeating in my life lately and I think there might be some validity to that statement. I am, for all intents and purposes, going through puberty for the second time. Not just with rearranging the hormones in my body through medication, which have been playing havoc with my emotions, but in finding a new identity as a woman, in finding a way of communicating, expressing myself and exploring the world from a different point of view. In eessence, I am learning and growing, the same way a teenager would in a lot of ways.
A lot of people say, "if I could do it all again...." The truth is, there are fundamental steps we need to take to become "people", and doing it again doesn't mean we can do it that much differently, even when approaching forty. Culture has left a mark on us, and our brains aren't as fluid and mailable as they were when we were younger, which makes it difficult to veer from these established paths. Especially when you may not be fully conscious of what's going on with how we're changing. I hadn't thought, when I started this transformation a year and a half ago, that I would actually change so much. I mean, I knew physically I would change, that my body, my voice, my outward expression would evolve, but it goes deeper.
With becoming a whole person finally, the way people relate to me is different, which forces me to change. I'm more out going now, and friendly. I speak up now, not just when provoked, but when I feel there's something to contribute. I'm no longer the awkward, lonely, unsure person I had been for 35 years. I feel that I can and will be accepted, and that I have more to offer than simply, silently doing the grunt work. These are the types of changes that have a profound impact, not just on me personally, but the entire world I am a part of. I can relate to and interact with people in conversations and transactions in ways I never have before. This is the kind of change that can turn a person's life completely upside down.
Now, I'm not saying by any means that these are bad things. I'm saying it can be a little overwhelming some days. We have to rewire our brains to handle situations that have been wired for decades. Changing the plumbing in an older house requires tearing down a lot of walls and pulling out the foundations, if you'll excuse the analogy. It can mean examining the oldest triggers of "why I am this way", or "this is how I react to this situation". Sometimes the old patterns simply no longer apply.
Becoming Leah has meant I am able to be more expressive, more caring, even more empathetic that I felt I was "allowed" to be before. I have been able to expand and stretch aspects of my personality that I previously held back, because I was either stepping outside of peoples comfort zones, or I was afraid to be "found out" for being the woman I am. It also means having a harder time finding people who understand the changes I'm going through, mentally, emotionally, physically. Teenagers have this, as their bodies change, and they are embarrassed, shy, and feeling freakish about what's going on with them.
Still, I am ready, I think to face those changes, and will remain standing through the process, as I always have. The difference now is, I'm doing what I feel is right, and what will make me better, happier and healthier than I have ever been. I realize sometimes I'm going to come across as being a little moody, but it won't last. It's part of the process.
Sitting on the Side
Sometimes there's a space, just a little to the left, where I can sit and watch. It's a fairly narrow spot, and it doesn't really let me stretch my legs out without fear of having them tirpped over by the passing parade, but it's comfortable. From here, the world just passes as I sit still. The music shifts, the colours change, and I get to see a lot more of it than if I were standing inside, going with the flow. I can't sit here forever though, as my legs start to cramp and my hips begin to burn. My backside inevitably falls asleep and I have to stand, and get carried away in the crowd again. If I find just the right spot though, the music moves me along with it, and I get to sing along for a little while. My voice, sometimes out of tune, rises with the crowd and I smile again, until again I get tired and need to sit once more.
Hunter's Heart
It creeps up unexpected sometimes. I haven't written in a while so I'm not sure the last time I felt it, but it's back.
I generally feel more inclined to write, or maybe just turn my ears and listen, and observe. It's a sinister pricky at the front of my brain, a pulling from my forehead outward. That's the best way I can describe it this morning. But it's more too. I'm aware of more going on, both inside and outside my head. It's something exterior that I've caught the scent of, or heard the snapping of branches not far away. It's anticipation and a certain restless need to sniff the intruder out, and possibly make a snack of it.
But it's more than that too. There's emotion there too, maybe some fear, maybe some darkness.
Welcome back, Lan. I have missed you dearly.
Monday, Monday
I'm not sure what to say exactly, but feel like I should be saying something. It's Monday, and back at work, nothing is working. We have two new hires that can't log into our system, and the rest of us can't create PO#'s. I know, all technical and not particularly interesting.
I dreamt about comics last night. I can't remember any details though. I think the Hulk was in it though, or at least the Bruce Banner version of him. I vaguely remember laying in a cramp space with him, and we were talking, and the whole time I was worried he was going to change and crush me. I guess that says something, either about fears of my own alter ego, or that of my bed-mate, Jeff.
Not that I'm frightened of Jeff. I have always implicitly trusted him. I can't imagine, in any way that he would hurt me.
Hats
Ok, may seem like it's going to be a little jumbled, and rambly. There is a trail here though, trust me.
Erin and Sean came up on saturday for a visit this past weekend. I love Erin to death, because she is honestly one of the best "good people" I know. The kind of good that's mostly missing from the world. She is always looking for ways to improve herself, and the lives of people around her. She says she's a flake, because, like me, she's ecclectic, and maybe a little eccentric. In any case, her and her husband came to visit, and she brought me presents.
Erin loves to give people handmade gifts. She told me some of the people she gives gifts to don't appreciate it, but I love them. Her stuff is always original, and always made with the recipiant in mind. And so, in a green reusable bag, covered in cartoon frogs, I received a new hat and scarf that she had crochetted this past winter, and an apron. The apron I was particularily excited about. I've been wanting one for a little while, and when I pulled this on out of the bag, it was perfect. It has '40s pin-up girls sitting on motorbikes all over it. Saucy. It wasn't until after she left that I tried on the hat and scarf, which I also absolutely adore.
I was never hat person before. I have a smaller head, so hats had never fit me properly when I was growing up, and I just never felt comfortable wearing one. Last year, I started to develope a taste for unique and often old-fashioned hats. I didn't give it a lot of thought at the time. "It's a cute hat."
While Erin was visiting, one of the things we half-assed chatted about was having a baby. A while ago, Erin volunteered to carry my baby for me, if I decided I wanted to have one. I'd been thinking about it for a while, even though I knew I'd essentially be raising him/her alone. I missed out on my son's youth, and I don't know, I feel like I should have someone to raise. I would be a great parent, I think. But then I think about how I'm in my late 30's, I'm mostly settled, but not completely, and let's face it, when it comes to relationships, I'm not a great roll model. But I do have a lot to offer, a lot to pass down.
So, a handmade hat has me thinking, that maybe I should wear the hat of motherhood.
Fridays These Days
Just because there's not much in my life that would be considered "normal", I'm sitting at work, counting down the day to get out of work, with a 10 week old puppy in my lap.
I need Fridays these days. Everything else requires too much.
Why the hell not?
Holy shit, it has been a long time. A lot has changed. The secret is out, and Tali has fully taken form as queen of the castle.
Going back, rereading some of these old things I'd written, just reminds me of how far I've come. Somethings, however, probably will never change.
I still complain about not writing enough. I'd started writing a mystery novel late last summer that I'm stuck on. Just over 100 pages in and I'd afraid I've run out of steam.
And it's spring. I know, obviously. But most of my posts start here in the spring, and I suspect they pretty much all sound the same.
Ok, Leah. Time to start changing those patterns. There's no reason we can't keep the good stuff and carry on, is there?
Somehow, I'm reminded of Jennifer Connely in Labrynth when that lady is piling all her old toys on top of her....
