Confusion.

Morning gorgeous xx

Let me describe a situation to you. This is my current situation and I’m telling you because it’s important to know where I am, before I explain how I got here.

So I’m at home right now. Lying in the bed with my phone in my hand. I’ve just had a very long conversation with a friend. And earlier, I was at another friends. But part of both conversations was the same topic. The topic is a situation I find myself in at work. And it’s a situation that I find myself in, because I am transitioning.

The situation itself is down to a question of viewpoints. Ultimately, it’s my viewpoint against the world, and we can get to that shortly. But this is a challenge that everyone must face at some point in their life and we all must find ways of overcoming it. So, OK, why mention it now then? Well, the reason it’s a challenge for me is not anything anyone has done or said to impress a different viewpoint upon me, its the fact that my viewpoint is changing, rapidly.

You see, for 45 years of my life, I was a Man. I had developed a man’s viewpoint on the world and it had developed a similar viewpoint of me – I was a Man in the world at large. Fair enough, It wasn’t easy getting to that agreement with the world when you’re struggling with your identity, but I’d done it. And on the face of it I’d done it pretty well. Nice one mate, job done. Only as appears typical in my life, I spend a lot of energy building something concrete; something that can’t be broken down, a mountain. Only to find I built it in the wrong place, or it was the wrong size, or some other reason why it didn’t fit with what everyone else wanted. And the same was true of my identity. It turns out I’d spent a lot of energy building an identity for the world at large only to find I’d built the wrong one, and it wasn’t my true identity at all.

Oh shit.

So you see, I’m not a man after all. I’m a woman, and in fact I always have been. And that’s the problem I had with the world, I couldn’t see it for what it was because I had the wrong glasses on – rose coloured in fact. But I wasn’t allowed to set the correct viewpoint for me, and grow up with it, because the world got there first and changed it.

So OK, I developed the viewpoint and personality I had to keep the world happy. Upsetting the world and blazing that trail on your own, as a child, is risky when you’re brought up in an environment where everything is black and white – With a hint of pink that it likes to show off every now and then.

But it’s basically black and white, or Male and Female; but you get the drift so I’ll leave it at Black & White. Either way, you have the physical characteristics of Black (Male) or White (Female) and that’s it. You are what you are, grow up and shut up. And as I had the body of one side of the fence, Black, I must have the personality to match – No way did I have the personality from the other side, White. That could never happen. And God forbid I found myself having a personality in the Pink. Please no, don’t do that to me, I’m not a Victorian caged animal, I’m a human being. Luckily, I didn’t have that – Never have had. But I did learn real quickly that if I was Black, then really; something pretty damn major was wrong as my personality was White and I knew it. Damn you.

Then, as I said, the world stepped in and changed my viewpoint. In fact it slapped me in the face – Real bloody hard as well. At it happened at an age where I was no where near old enough to understand what the world was, so this came as rather a shock. WTF.

And to be honest, I didn’t really need to know at that age – I didn’t want to know either. I thought I had quite a few more years yet before that was something I needed to think about. And I was happy being a child, why should I need to care. I had enough to deal with with my brother, anyway. So when the world woke me up early and told me to get up, I couldn’t, I wasn’t ready and I didn’t know how. I needed more time to work out who I was, time to be left alone please, until I was ready. But the world doesn’t care about that, so it literally just left leaving me in a bubble and leaving me to get up on my own.

So I did. I got up, I looked in the mirror, I painted myself Black and I did whatever I could to get on with it. I wobbled a lot – a hell of a lot, but I eventually made it. Wouldn’t be here to tell the tale if I didn’t.

The only problem now, and this is the source of my confusion. Is I’ve walked all these miles on this journey, only to find out I’d been on the wrong journey all along. WTF…

Lots of Love,

Vikki