Fortunate daughter

OK, so I really did have a bad day yesterday. I didn't ask to feel like that, and I seemed not to be able to stop it. The tears flowed. Things kept going wrong, little things that felt worse when added to the basic funk. It wasn't until I went downtown, had an excellent Indonesian wrap for supper, and met two very cool women and chatted for almost two hours about anything and everything, that I felt better. The funk returned when I watched that Primetime: Family Secrets report, but that's the subject of a different post.

I'm feeling better today, even though it still sucks just as much as yesterday being a woman with a penis and having to wait until I'm-not-sure-when to get something done about it. I imagine there are going to be more bad days. I don't expect surgery to transform my world, but I know that at least some tension will be relieved. I know that things will not be the same. And I have a feeling things might be different in ways I'm not yet expecting.

Did I have a point? Oh yeah, I did. The point is that I am lucky. Fortunate. Blessed. I got hit with that funk unexpectedly, but I really have no reason to bitch. Even if there is a delay, I will have surgery, one way or another, before too long. In all likelihood (unless I flunk the test), the province will pay for it. Even if I had to pay for it myself, I could, although I'd negotiate that with my beloved spouse and not just pay without talking about it.

It's like the old saying about complaining that I had no shoes until I met someone who had no feet. There are trans people everywhere, especially in the United States, who need genital surgery (women) or top surgery and hysterectomy (men) just as much as I do, yet have no way to pay for it. I've heard some say that if you want it badly enough, you'll find a way. That's just classist bullshit. Spouting aphorisms is easy. If they're so certain, let them create a viable financial plan for the people they so blithely assume can find a way. Some will find a way, sure, saving whatever they can for as long as necessary. But some people live from paycheque to paycheque. Some have family responsibilities that have to come first. Some simply aren't made in such a way as to be able to get a better job or a better situation. It's not their fault.

And it's not just about surgery. I was fortunate to be able to transition at my job. I don't know how it would have gone if I were actually in the office rather than remote, but the way Human Resources handled things and the way my colleagues treat me on phone meetings and in email make me think it would have worked. I know too many trans people who don't have jobs, or don't have good enough jobs, or are mistreated at their jobs. For the jobless, it's not about not having surgery. It's about survival in a bad economy.

So I will try to remember that not only do I have feet; I have really nice shoes to put on them. I've learned how to be more patient during the transition process, but clearly I have more to learn.