It flickered sharp blue, lilac, ice white and pink randomly. I watched that star for a moment as it captivated me as it always does. Two stars entwined with each other and burning bright for more time than we could ever imagine bound by some unimaginable force. It was the one thing I didn’t have at the moment was that bond with someone in that same binary way. At that moment, though, I was content. I also had a bit of a cold and even though going to bed a little early I was in doubt that I would be at a running event in the morning.
I woke early. Too early. Twenty past five showed on the clock when I whacked the top for the time to light up, looking with heavy eyes half open. I groaned and pulled myself under the blanket to hide from the ice outside and the sun that would be turning that black sky a dark blue hinting at the day to come. Nothing more than drifting became of my duvet cover antics and I was soon opening the curtains with a sharp day of minus temperatures and the possibility of wearing my new running tights.
Within half an hour I was parked up and walking to the start of the run event that sits on one edge of the city amongst some green scrub land. It’s a fresh walk to the start. A time to acclimatise to the fresh air and to enjoy those new long running tights that keep me just warm enough and to add a little more feeling myself for once. I thought about those stars the night before.
It has been over a decade since I have had a proper relationship. One part of the wholegender thingis, once that relationship had ended from the realisation that it just wouldn’t work, unless I’d had unlimited confidence that was completely blind to any fears then going into another relationship was just so unlikely but also self for-filling. Even more telling, right now, was whether I actually wanted one.
Sure I misshaving that person at home to share everything with, eating together, enjoying hobbies, watching the tv together, going places and enjoying the indoors and outdoors, but when I think about it, think what it would mean after all this time it would be just as much as an upheaval to my life and my home. It sounds really defeatist and selfish but thinking about it, it runs much deeper.
There is always the worry of having to go through the whole tellingonce again with someone new and whether it will be a problem for them personally. After all transgender in the wider understanding is still relatively new. But may be these are just blockades being erected by myself to stop me having to go to the effort of working for a relationship. The reality though is a little more simple. Relationships seem to just spark when you meet someone and if something is going to happen it will just happen naturally. When I think about some of the people I meet at running events and socialise with them, anyone who is likely to take an interest in me, and if I were to take an interest in them, it would be pretty obvious by the way I dress and present myself that something is different. Either that someone is going to guess from the outset or they’ll not be quite sure and when they’re told the reaction would probably be more just “oh – right.” A bit like the reaction of the first counsellor I told about my gender identity issues.
My morning walk so pleasant. Other people going to the same place for the same reason to run and wake up for the weekend. I may have a bit of a cold but that softened to the background by the thought of running once again. Every footstep was more meaningful and exciting than ten taken on every other ordinary day.
It had been an odd week because out of the blue I had two social media friend requests from two separate people. Neither of which I had seen, in person, in about twenty years and neither of which had, until this week, made any attempt to get in touch. One from my school days and another from my university days. The person from my schools days was someone I had long since left behind many years ago. We’d briefly been in touch a few years ago via the internet but they left social media with me feeling used. They’d asked me for advice and once I gave it, they silently disappeared without so much of a thank you.
The other I had been forewarned about by a friend I still keep in touch with. She had told me how this person had been going through some kind of bad patch and was only now contacting each and every one of her old friends. “I doubt she would get in touch with me, christ it’s been what, twenty years?” I said thinking this was not going to be any issue for me.
“She even contacted Kim.”
“Kim! Christ, I thought they’d fallen out?” I said, “besides, Kim moved to Italy didn’t she?”
I was still unconvinced that she would contact me, but sure enough a friend request came along just a day or so later.
What struck me though was my thoughts hadn’t gone towards wondering if I were to end up in conversation with them whether I would one day tell them about my identity and what they would think; after all there is nothing more potent about wanting to impress of our life successes than a ghost from my school past. Neither did I feel the need to contact them and feel the need to offer my generous help if they needed it.
They were both people from my past that had passed. They were people who had naturally drifted away from me and my feelings about them as friends had long gone. When these occasions come up, rarely I might add, when people from my past that were a negative influence on me I no longer feel the need to go a mile for them.
I briefly compare them and the effect they might have on being in my life with what my life is now and what it means to me. The times I spend with myself exploring new places or the run I’m about to attend with new people I socialise, with similar interests in activities that make us feel good about ourselves. If they were to find out about my identity then may be I would just feel proud about it, but it wouldn’t change how much I would want them to be a part of my current life. The thing about getting older, moving on, progressing our lives in every way and not just our gender identity, we change, we move on, we outgrow some people just as they outgrow ourselves.
Until next time,