Pasupatidasi's Blog

thoughts, poetry, life as it is…

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check the boxes that apply

lately labels have been a source of musing for me…
especially ones that tend to bring up certain pre-conceived images or notions about the ‘group’ labeled.

a recent blog request for submissions about ‘butch’ caused the re-emergence of this trend of thought for me.

my favorite word to describe myself is ‘queer’.
that seems to take it all into account.
not just my sexual tendencies which being bi might nicely fit into an “all of the above” category…but with regard to almost every aspect of my being. from choice of dress, to mannerisms (or lack of manners) to lifestyle and philosophy of life.

the word ‘queer’ has come to mean something different through the years to various folk.

the american heritage dictionary definition goes along the usual lines
…odd, unconventional, deviating from the expected or norm…

.(i also like to proclaim myself a deviant)

reclaiming words can be very powerful. the word dyke which is often intended as a slight is a source of great pride to many women. i only aspire to being as lofty as a true dyke!

the word queer, ¬†times past meant only strange, or eccentric then came to be used to put down homosexuals…but now we chant “we’re here!~we’re queer!~get used to it!”

it’s powerful to own the sticks and stones once lobbed at us to our injury, and use them instead to define ourselves on our terms.

the word ‘queer’, like so many words in the english language, can be traced to indo-european, through the germanic languages from there.

having majored in linquistics once upon a time and still maintaining a healthy interest in etymological roots of words (entymologists are the buggy ones) a favorite hobby of mine is to read the dictionary…to discover the furthest known root of a word
and what it meant at the time.

for queer it is traced to a root that meant to turn, or turn away, or around. that seems apropos… the same root gave rise to torque, torticullis, torch…and other twisted things.

other interesting word roots to check out to their furthest known use are the ones that over time morphed into the words love and friend…

i’ll give you a hint,
love = freedom
friend = loved one.

reading antique dictionaries, from over a hundred years ago is also illuminating.

for example, the word ‘slut’ used to describe a man with no visible means of support, –¬†a bum…it is short for slatternly…or slattern. it was never thrown out to disparage a woman.

much of the zeitgeist of an era, or the culture of a people can be gleened simply by becoming familiar with the true meanings of words used…

wonder what generations to come will make of us from our language

Continue reading

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talkin’ tonight

(decided to share some of my song lyrics…hope you enjoy.)

talkin’ tonight
yeah, we’re talkin’ tonight,
’bout what we think is wrong
or what we think is right.
usin’ what we hear
to find each other out.
our words defining what we
think we’re about,

but we’re talkin’ pretty much just to
keep our lips busy
so our minds won’t realize the fact
our hearts have gotten dizzy.
so we’re talkin’
just talkin’

watchin’ a movie on the
t.v. set
it’s been on a half an hour
don’t know the plot yet.
the movie’s only there to be
some sort of a screen,
to keep our eyes from meetin’
in the silence between.
it’s given us a reason to spend
time together.
and things to talk about beside
our feelings or the weather.

but we’re talkin’ pretty much just to
keep our lips busy
so our minds wont realize the fact
our hearts have gotten dizzy,

but we’re talkin’
just talkin’

we reach into our packages for
not really even carin’ if we
get the things lit.
it seems when we’re together that we
smoke too much..
it keeps our hands from wanderin’
and wantin’ to touch.
the movies only there to be some
sort of a screen
to keep our eyes from meetin’
in the silence between.

and we’re talkin’ pretty much just to
keep our lips busy,
so our minds wont realize
that our hearts have gotten dizzy,

and we’re talkin.
just talkin’

one day one or the other of us
has to break out
and let the other one know what she’s been
dreamin’ about,
behind the screens, the talkin’
and the cigarettes,
what she’s been hopin’ for and thinkin’
since the day we first met.
anxiety attacks aside
i know what i feel
but i’m afraid i’ll learn co incidence
is often unreal..
the movie’s only there to be some
sort of a screen
to keep our eyes from meetin’
in the silence between

and we’re talkin pretty much
just to keep our lips busy
so our minds wont realize, somehow
our hearts have gotten dizzy…

so we’re talkin’
just talkin’

it seems i’ve made this same mistake
a hundred times or more,
i felt a million things inside of me
and tried to ignore them,
out of fear, i’d be rejected so i
ended up lonely,
i’d like to break this pattern and i
think i would if only,
i thought i wasn’t puttin’
our friendship on the line, or that
she feels the same things,
then i would be doin’ just fine.
i’ve tried to make my words obey
they just come out wrong,
i think that maybe i should
simply say it
…in a song…

cause my mind’s already noticed that
my heart has gotten dizzy
and i can think of better ways to
keep our lips busy

than talkin
just talkin


the way forward

it feels as tho i have reached yet another milestone in the whole
“i have a daughter, not a son” progression.

there have been definite stages…perhaps predictable ones and maybe even ones shared in common
by other surprised parents of these special children.

first reaction to zion’s disclosure about her gender:
“oh, isn’t that adorable! he’s female identified!”

upon the beyond disclosure to insistance:
“well, whatever this phase is, i will allow the cross gender clothing and toys.
zion will undoubtedly outgrow this.”

when came the attempts to ‘cut off’ the penis, the anger at god, and suicidal ideations:
“oh my god! what is up with this! maybe zion has a hormonal imbalance causing this.”

endocrinologist and geneticist labs later, having absorbed their bad advice:
“we’ll just take this day by day. i’ll try to get zion into gender-neutral clothes/toys.”

when zion’s psychic pain and the revulsion at the ‘spare parts’ reached unbearable heights:
“okay, this has gone far enough. zion has to know there is an option, a way to be a girl!”

when after four years of zion having to keep ‘the secret’, finally believing her, we go public:
“i will support my child no matter what. i just wish this wasn’t real!”

three months later, my daughter and i have a much nicer relationship, she is happier…it is obvious
that she IS a girl:
“how strong she is! this beautiful girl! the penis even looks out of place to me now!”

altho i am aware that the way forward from here for a girl like zion is fraught with societal
non-acceptance, within an environment of ignorance about and even fear and loathing of people like herself,
i have not a single doubt that she will rise to each occasion.

i have a new feeling in my heart concerning all of this. one of joy! imagine that!
my love for her and all of who she is, has gone from a tolerance and guarded support (while wishing she
could be otherwise) to a full-fledged celebration with her! for life and the way forward.

all of this seems progress she has brought to me…and leaves me wondering;
what more expanded being she will bring me to.

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getting by

at first, when my daughter asked for a ‘boy’ doll i thought that she (then i still called her him) needed affirmation of her ‘boyness’ with a doll that showed the ‘boy’ part down below…after all, even tho she was born a boy, i always bought whatever toys etc. she asked for regardless of gender usually associated with the toy.

looking back, it seems obvious now, that she was aware at three years old, that she might be in the wrong body….she hardly played with that doll among the others. it seemed to serve only to remind her that she had a part not generally associated with being a girl.

there were a lot of other things too…things that in hindsight pointed to her need to be the girl she is.

for example, for a time she wanted to take dance class…so i enrolled her in one. but when she was placed in a class separate from the ‘girls’ and was not allowed to wear a leotard and tutu, she lost interest quickly.

waiting four years to really ‘hear’ what she said about being a girl in the wrong body made it seem to her that i didn’t approve. in reality, i was merely scared for her…hoping against her being transgender, not because it is weird, but because it is soooo hard!

i have transgender friends, have even dated a couple of transgender women. so i have heard things from them, first hand experiences about the abuse, oppression and even danger involved in just their attempting to be who they are.

being bi sexual myself, and a member of the gay community for most of my fifty five years of life, i had experienced a small amount of such insults to self definition…and had seen how for my trans-sisters, even within the gay community, prejudice occurs.

no one would hope for their child the types of outrageous treatment is doled out to such people for the simple ‘crime’ of being who they are.

zion is much happier these days. she knows exactly what ‘kind of girl’ she is too…she knows that she doesn’t want to wear make up and isn’t really all that ‘into’ jewelry…she knows that when she grows up she wants to be married to a woman with whom she can share life and raise a child with her…adopt one.

i hope we can change the world enough for these special children. i hope by the time she is an adult, society will have learned how to adapt to the presence of folk who are ‘other than’. until then, we as parents and family of transgender kids can do much by providing them with support while they grow into the strength they will need to battle it out for themselves once they fly forth the nest.

blogs such as the ones i find in cyberspace, folk that comment on posts we leave in our own sharing, give me reason for hope which altho it doesn’t erase the apprehension about the way my daughter might be treated by ‘the world’, at least serve as evidence that, just like for zion when she can have the necessary surgery, a big change is on the way.