Looking Forward: My Third Decade

I turned thirty on the 30th, and I'm excited. Maybe not the normal reaction, but I've always loved the symbolism of new decades. There's so much opportunity inherent in the beginning of something, whether the beginning of a year, a decade, or a journey.

While the future is never predictable and always open to change, here are a few things I want to pursue in my next decade of life, both big and small:

• Researching trauma. Recently, I located a research opportunity that I plan to apply for. If I'm accepted, I'll be doing research on trauma in veterans.

• Graduating with my four-year degree. I am currently studying for a degree in Nonprofit Management.

• Living internationally. Right now, my dream destination is the Netherlands.

• Building a piece of furniture. There's a deck chair I've been wanting to build for a while now.

• Work with folks with complex trauma. I've found a calling in the work I do at a complex trauma shelter in my area, and I want to continue that for the foreseeable future.

• Honor my relationships. I place a lot of value on the people in my life, and I want to continue to grow those relationships that matter most to me.

What are some of your goals in the present? What are some you're working toward over time?

The Road Ahead

I spend a lot of time living in potential. I like to ensure I have a direction to steer me forward. Something to walk into, if you will. Sometimes, though, I'm hit with the realization that those futures, glorious as they may be, only come when I act.

Dreaming is easy. Doing is where the effort comes in, so here are two long-held dreams I commit to this month.

1. I will launch my Patreon.

   For the last year or more, I've been dreaming of starting a Patreon page for The Gayly Nerd. In the past months, I've had people offering to support me through one. But, silly as it seems, the idea of creating an introduction video has terrified me too much to act. No more. By February 14, 2020, my Patreon will be live.

2. I will schedule an international trip.

   From the ages 17-19, I traveled to a variety of countries and continents. In the last 11 years, I have traveled to exactly 0. Although I have moved across the United States, I haven't left its borders, and I'm convinced I've grown less for it. New countries, cultures, and languages give so many opportunities to grow and challenge yourself. By February 14, I will have booked a ticket to visit one of the many countries I've fantasized about seeing for the last 11 years.

What dreams will you act on this month?

Photo © 2019 James Avery Fuchs
Flagstaff, Arizona

Resource Feature: DrugRehab.com

DrugRehab.com was brought to my attention a little while back, and I wanted to share it.

Addiction is hard and scary, and recovery is a journey. I've watched so many people I love and admire navigate that difficult path, and I've lost a few along the way to overdose. Whether you are seeking help to understand or assist a loved one or for your own journey, this can be a resource.

DrugRehab.com is divided into four sections: Addiction, Treatment, Active Recovery, and Advocacy and Support. It provides information, help, and support for everyone affected by addiction, including loved ones. And if you are in a place of crisis, it also has a list of hotlines that can help.

Their list of hotlines covers substance abuse, mental health, assistance for loved ones, and help for teens and youths. You can find it here. And whatever the road you're walking, know you're not alone, and that there is help if you need it. Don't be afraid or ashamed to reach out.

What I Gained from Goodbye

Sometimes walking away is the most courageous thing you can do.

Over the last two months, I've walked away from some of the most significant relationships of my life. So many of the people I was building my future around are gone from that future, and sometimes the ache in my chest is so strong it feels like I've been hollowed out. Even in those moments that double me over with heartache, though, I'm still fiercely grateful I had the courage to walk away.

There were so many months of sobbing in my room, terrified and aching and feeling desperately alone before these past two months of goodbyes. So many days and nights in doctors offices and hospitals. But what I remember most clearly of those months is the fear that there would be nothing left if I walked away. No friends, and no future. No me.

What I found on the other side of goodbye, though, was something so much different. I found possibility and light. I found joy and strength. I found an uncharted wilderness of opportunity to create a future I wanted to live in, rather than a steady march of survival through a parade of longest nights. More than anything, I found myself.

When I said the painful goodbyes, I didn't walk away from the future. I stepped into it fully for the first time. Because every one of those goodbyes was also a hello. To possibility. To hope. To asserting my own worth. And every closed door also opened space in my life for new things: joy, growth, and intentionality.

With a loving heart and strong boundaries, I design my future each day. And every time that pain strikes, I look forward, and smile.

Lessons Learned from Poetry

I took a bath the other day, dropping a fizzing bath bomb into the water, redolent of cucumber and green tea, and just soaked, thinking. Sometimes moments like these make all the difference.

I thought about a lot of things, but poetry, more than anything, lingered on my brain. Poems are such a beautiful art form, and like any art, the deeper you dive, the more ways there are to learn and grow.

Poetry taught me about the power of telling a story in a handful of words, and how doing so can bring people closer. It was forming connections between seemingly unrelated topics in poems that that taught me how to forge connections between myself and those very different from me.

Poetry also taught me even deeper lessons. When I first heard some of Guante's poems on consent and rape culture, I finally had words for sexual trauma I endured, and was able to start to heal. Listening to Emi Mahmoud taught me about genocide in a much more visceral way than I'd ever experienced. Poetry allowed me glimpses into lives very different than my own, and in doing so, gave me new lenses to re-examine my own life and connect with others in healthier ways.

I credit poetry, and writing in general, with a large part of my survival.

What poems or poets changed your life and yourself for the better?

Learning to Say No, Part 2: Start Small

But reframing only goes so far. "No" is still a hard sentence to say, and like any skill, it needs practice. So how do you start?

Start small.

"Do you need a glass of water?"

"No. Thank you, though."

"I love this book! I think you'd like it too. Do you want to borrow it?"

"I appreciate the offer, but no."

Once you're used to saying "No" to smaller things, try with something a little bigger.

"Can you give me a ride to work today?"

"No, got a doctor appointment. Sorry."

Practice saying "No" when you feel it, and it'll get easier to give your "Yes" meaning.

Enthusiastically choose your life.

Learning to Say No, Part 1: Reframing

In a world dominated by expectations and external pressures, saying no can be as terrifying as it is important. This can be especially true for women or feminine appearing folks, whose "No" is often used as justification for violence by others. While safety is important, the skill of saying no in the face of pressure is vital, even if it's only utilized in safer situations.

But how do you learn to assert your "No" when the world around you wants you to do the opposite? Aren't you letting folks down?

The first step is to reframe how you view the act of saying "Yes." When you answer "Yes" to something you dread, aren't you less enthusiastic? Do you speed through the task and wonder where time went? Or do you dread it, drag your feet and complain while doing it, and feel miserable and grumpy, rather than engaged with the task and the people you are doing it with?

Now think about the last time you said a "Yes" you meant with all of your heart. How did it feel to say?

How much does your "Yes" mean if it's said when you really want to say "No" instead? The more you say "No" when feeling it, the more honest and meaningful your "yes" becomes.

Spot of Wonder

As the car rumbled across the highway, I noticed leaves flaming with fall. It's the beginning of August, and there's already omens of my favorite season. Staring at the brilliant reds and oranges, I drew in my breath at the wonder of nature. Maybe the hot days are fading.

The progression of seasons is still a new thing for me. Coming from central Arizona, I'm used to varying shades of too hot and little else. I'm grateful for seasons, though. Without the rest of the seasons, I might not know how wonderous fall truly is.

First, there's the temperature. Cooler, certainly, sometimes even chilly. It's cool enough to walk through even for my poor heat tolerance, but rarely snowy. Perfect walking weather.

Then there's the leaves. Besides the temperature, seeing leaves change colors is my favorite part of Autumn. The brilliant colors the trees light up with remind me of flames and the importance of change and letting the past go.

Fall is coming. What changes are you welcoming with it?

Wants vs. Actions

One of the most important things I've learned from my boyfriend is the importance of acting with the long-term in mind. In the past, this is something I've struggled with. Sometimes it's easy to fall into the "want" trap and get things that bring me joy in the moment, but don't sustain that or further my goals. Instead, I want to build my future deliberately. While I don't deprive myself of joy as a whole, I try to pick the joys that further me, and to put aside what little I can toward those. I remind myself of this goal with a mantra: "Wants are temporary. Actions are not."

What joys can you bring to your life that benefit you in the long-term? What actions can you take today toward your goals?

Grow and Release

No one is perfect, and neither are our circumstances, but as humans, there is a very real tendency to find shame or blame in mistakes and perceived failures. Neither of these are productive. Blame is an attempt to control that which is out of our control: the actions of others. This infringes upon the autonomy of others. Shame is holding yourself to unrealistic standards of performance and reframing problems with your behavior as problems within your fundamental identity, therefore removing them from your control.

There are other options in response to mistakes and failures, however, and perhaps the most useful is that of growing and releasing. Instead of shaming yourself for your mistakes, learn from them and thank them for what they taught you, then let them go. If someone else makes a mistake that affects you, learn from it. Take the new things you've learned and change or stop your own interactions accordingly, and as you move past the instance, know that you are stronger and more aware for what you have learned.

What is a mistake or failure you have grown from and past? What is one you want to grow and release from?

Joy as Active Practice

What's wrong is always available, but so is what's right.

When the day-to-day problems get overwhelming, I try to remember the day-to-day successes. Sometimes getting out of bed is a success. Other days it's cleaning the entire house, or writing a chapter of a book, or a blog post like this one. From the small to the huge, though, each success reminds me I am capable.

Along with successes, I spend a little time each day on gratitude. I think about the connections that enrich my life, the pets that cross my path, and the wonder of living somewhere with natural water sources and green growing things. I remember what it was like without those things, and breathe a deep sigh of relief that they are there now.

I think about my favorite meal I ate recently, and about the most interesting thing I learned that day. I think about music, and about the way the light dapples through trees, and the dreams I'm working toward.

Suddenly, once again, I love my life.

What is going right in your life today?

Thankful for Dysphoria

I've been thinking a lot lately about being thankful for unpleasant emotions because they can often teach and transform us so much more than moments of joy. I've spent a while this past week or so specifically thinking about gender dysphoria, and how it transformed my own life and ultimately led to my moments of greatest fulfillment and to the people with whom I am closest. Looking back, many of my moments of most transfixing joy were brought about because of the deepest grief or pain.

So today, I'm going to thank my dysphoria for what it has taught me about what my body needs in those moments.

Dysphoria is like any other unpleasant emotion in that when I try to escape or ignore it, it worsens, but if I have the courage to sit with it, it can ease. Just like how jealousy can point out to me when I am feeling neglected or insecure, dysphoria serves a purpose and tries to create an awareness of a need.

Sometimes needs are temporary. Sometimes they are not. So I'll sit with the feelings when they arise. Converse with them, even, if I can. Ask them what they wish to teach me, and think on it. Most of all, I will breathe deep and know that all emotions are temporary, even if needs may not be. This pain will ease, even if just for a moment.

I'll breathe in and breathe out, knowing I do not battle alone.

---

What are some unpleasant emotions that have helped you grow recently? What moment of struggle are you most grateful for?

Spot of Wonder

I've spent the morning curled up on the couch with my partner and my metamour, showing each other music and eating together. The flowers I bought for Nikki are blooming bright and beautiful, bringing spring to the winter in a flash of daisies and yellows. Earlier I sipped blueberry tea with honey to soothe my sick throat, and now I'm about to start my day of errands, homework, and spending time with friends.

I still can't get over how full my life feels these days, and nearly all of it good. A room away, Nikki is starting to cook for a potluck later, and walking up the street through the park to my best friend's house flashes through my mind. Just then, Nikki takes a break from cooking and kisses my shoulder as she walks into the next room. As I smile at her, I've never felt more home in a person's eyes.

A year ago, my life would seem unimagineable: too good to exist. It still does, but I'm living it. My metamour walks in to the kitchen where I'm standing now, catching her breath from a jaunt through the cold outside, and I realize again that I have a family among my friends and loved ones as she smiles in my direction.

My five years on testosterone was less than two weeks ago. My twenty-ninth birthday is in four days. I smile as I glance around my home. I love my life.

Spot of Wonder

Wonderful memories from a wonderful 5 days with my amazing partner. I feel like I'm floating.

A journal found wandering a 3 story Barnes and Noble by the Chesapeake Bay

Petting jellyfish at the National Aquarium

Dressing up just because

Cooking together

Flowers

The kitchen herbs I'm growing for her sprouting

Spot of Wonder

Life has been a lot lately. What with the political nightmare in the US, I've been pretty drained and overwhelmed. Yesterday was even more of a slice of hell, though, so I'm taking this moment to be grateful for the people in my life.

When I got harassed and frightened at uni yesterday, my friends rallied around and messaged me support and encouragement. My bestie pushed me to report the jerk, who worked at the school, and when I was crying in the hallway before class, my physics professor went with me to the dean's office to report the person at a higher level. My boyfriend, unfortunately far away in Florida, listened to me vent and offered e-hugs, support, and anger on my behalf.

I feel lucky to have such a wonderful, supportive group of people around me, and grateful to know that when the going gets hard, I'm not alone like I used to be. So for the friends reading this, I love you all, and for the future friends, I love you too. I feel so lucky, even amidst the stress.

~<3

Grateful for Growth

G'morning! Today I am grateful for growth. I am lucky enough to have regular opportunities to grow as a person, through both good and bad experiences. What are you grateful for today?

From Wanting to Die to Coming Alive

About a year and and a half ago, I reached the highest weight of my life: 300 lbs. I was miserable. I'd been fighting with my insurance to get top surgery for 3 years at that point, and it still seemed impossible. I hated my body and could barely stomach walking near a mirror. I was depressed, self-destructive, and just wanted to die.

Life has come a long way since then.

On December 12, 2016, I had top surgery. While I still want revisions, the relief I felt was enough to keep me alive, and, slowly, to allow me to start transforming other parts of my life contributing to my depression.

I started losing weight. I dropped 28 lb in the first year, and another 19 in the past 6 months. I've tried to exercise a little each day, and be more mindful of what and how much I eat.

I dropped clothing sizes, too. 8 inches off my waist size, and 2 shirt sizes. Today, I weighed myself at 244 lb, and wore a medium shirt for the first time since my late teens.

Ten months ago, I also moved. Arizona contained a lot of ghosts: Streets where the exes who had raped me lived, constant reminders of other abusers, threats in bathrooms, alcohol drowning my friends, and too many people who called me by a name that had never been mine. A room I could afford had opened up in Pennsylvania, and I took the leap. I piled my possessions in my car and drove.

It was one of the best decisions of my life.

Slowly, I learned to trust. I learned what it felt like to be safe in my home. I made friends. I built a family from them, a family unlike the one I left behind.

And then I took another leap. I started to mend things with my blood family. We're learning to trust each other, and that is a precious gift.

As I got more comfortable in my new surroundings, I worked up the courage to reach out to larger and larger communities, and I came alive. I'd had a community I felt safe in when I lived in Arizona, but it was surrounded by misery, and for the first time, I feel like a person rather than a statistic.

For the first time, I feel safe and whole, alive and happy.

For the first time, I love my life.

Spot of Wonder #3

I'm happier than I've ever been, and so grateful for my life and the people in it. I never thought I'd be so at peace and in love with every moment I live, but I wake up every day excited for the new morning. I didn't know that life could feel so full. I didn't know that I could still feel alive with motivation while happy and at peace. I don't want to escape anymore. I want to live.

Rainbow Hair

Rainbow hair through the years. It's that time of year again for me and I'm feeling the itch for color. Show me your favorite rainbow hair pictures!

Spot of Wonder #2

Coming out of a very rough patch of sad and death. Today I woke up with a smile and a sappy heart for the first time in about a week. So here's a mussy-haired, freshly awake me signing "I love you."

Because, of course, I do.