Winter thoughts heading north to Ketchikan
Feb 11 2016
i am once again at sea….. we left in the darkness of night as the tide started to flood…… a journey i talked about all last summer…. a journey that tess always wanted to take…. i’m aboard the Aleutian Ballad, the famous king crab boat from the Deadly Catch, and we are heading to Alaska…. outside the rain is falling and i’m in the darkness of an early dawn…. the sea seems to be alive although the swells are small, yet the swells are pushing us around quite a bit…. the wind is blowing at 20 kts yet i’m protected as i sit in the pilot house both safe and warm…. i’m sitting in the helm chair on the port side of the boat and in the background is the steady hum of the engines…. slowly pushing us northward… we’re only still off the coast of Washington on a course that will take us north of Vancouver Island…. and the rain continues to fall

thoughts wander back to my time with Tranquility… i truly miss my little lady….. an unbroken dream that lived for 11 beautiful years until i walked away from her that evening in January…. my heart crying as real tears were felt…. a goodbye that was the hardest i ever had to do…. i often wonder where my lady is….. are hands like mine tenderly caressing her everyday…… i miss her scent….. i miss her touch…. i miss her being
i sit and watch the constant rain and the flight of the gulls….. carefree, just drifting with the winds…

Feb 12
and the rain continues to fall…. thinking back through yesterday i wonder did the rain ever stop….. once again it’s the quiet hours of predawn…. the world is dark and silent for i can’t feel the wind or hear the sea…. slowly this island that i float upon moves ever northward…. slowly and silently the wind and currents push us towards Alaska…. i am at peace in this moment, for the sea has always brought me peace… the steady rhythm of the swells…. the rain against the glass that i stare out through, to this cold distant world…. the marine radio breaks the silence with an advisory of a waiting storm in the distant…. but our journey will have taken us safely to the north of this storm…… looking to the east awaiting the dawn of this new day…. and the rain falls

Feb 13
the rain continues to fall…. i sit once again and look out at a world of wind, rain and swells….. it seems we left Astoria at the right time as we are staying ahead of the worst of the weather….. yesterday afternoon there were small windows of sunshine but mostly we been accompanied by gray skies and rain….. i can feel a drop in the chill in the air as we head further north….. north once again to my beloved town of Ketchikan….. but for the rest of today the swells and wind will continue to push us northward while this rain continues to wash our pallet….

being on this journey upon the sea one finds there are many idle moments that allows ones mind to drift like the currents….. at times i think of my past…. my many journeys that this soul of mine has experienced….. and as i think back to each of those journeys i wonder did i really know my course i was taking through life….. i feel most of the time i was just caught in the flood or ebb of the tides of my life…. did i really know my true destination……. with each summit that i reached there was always a moment of idle satisfaction…. i could reflect over what was accomplished and also stare hard into the unknown future…. yes there were always the deep valleys that i descended into….. and at times it grew dark and i felt lost…… my course felt uncertain…….. so was there always a careful laid out plan…. i think not, but a course i set, and always i seemed to move ahead

Feb 14
it was late last night with a gentle rain still falling that i saw the lights of Ketchikan once again…… a thousand memories does this small town hold…. rainy walks amongst rainy days with a thousand puddles that my boots did play within…. it feels good to be back to my alaskan home…. only the noise from the bars could be heard from the docks that were empty of the thousands of tourist who wander about in search for their alaskan memories…. this gentle winter rain is washing away, for yet another day, the stains left from those crowds…… for tonight the streets belong to those whose songs are heard from the many bars…… and the docks are empty and stand silent and so beautiful without the ships that will come once again with the summer rains…. yes its good to be home once again

Feb 16
the sky is gray and the mountains are blanketed in clouds as the rain continues to fall….. i always wanted to spend a rainy winter day in my Ketchikan and today my dream comes true…… its cold, its damp, untold puddles cover the sidewalks as small playgrounds for the boots of those who wander aimlessly without destination other than a walk in the silent rain…… it’s a day that i find myself sitting in the wheelhouse of the Ballad in my chair just reading and napping as ones sees fit… my morning did have a beautiful walk in this rain as it felt good to be cleansed by this winter rain…… the boats sit idle in the harbors enjoying a winter’s sleep until the rains of spring…. as i let my eyes wander to the many windows overlooking the waterfront, i wonder how many chairs are placed by these windows with hungry eyes that soak in these rainy days….. with a pile of books by my side, a mug of hot tea and wrapped in my blanket i would spend my Ketchikan days throughout the winter…… and today is a beautiful day to let the mind travel through memories and dreams…..

Feb19
my friends have all left….. the crab pots are soaking in the cold tidal current awaiting the crabs… there is noting to do but wait… to watch the days slip slowly by…. the afternoon rains quietly fall while i sit in warmth by a window, my mug of tea and my sleeping bag as my blanket……. finally my dream of spending a winter in Ketchikan has happened…. my book is closed now as i spent the afternoon hours reading and dreaming…… when my eyes grew weary of words i took to my raincoat and walked the rainy streets of this quiet town….. the sidewalks are empty of the summer crowds as i can freely wander at will….. the puddles were all mine to splash through as i walked with no destination in mind…. i treasure the thought of another full day alone in my rainy paradise, with nothing other than reading and walking in the rain before i must head for home…..

Feb 21
with my dream and memories packed in my bags i took my final walk in the rain… a taxi and then a ferry and the rain continued to fall…. i took my wool cap off so i could feel the rain for one last time…. i feel cleansed by this rain… now in a broken silence i awaited my flight but in a way i hope it would never arrive…
and as that jet lifted into the clouds, i looked for one last time at my beloved town of Ketchikan….. and i thought… journeys must all end if only for another dream, for another journey to begin

i love this piece i wrote…. the slippers refer to a ballerina’s slippers and images i saw when i went to the Az. School of Ballet to see a ballet… there were girls in a studio practicing and i was captured by what i saw… this piece deals with so much more than what’s on the paper

to all my dancers, wherever you may be
“the choices that i made”

i sit alone
on this wooden deck….
islands drift by in the chilly mist
with a sun rise still hours away…
yet my reflection never changes
in these early hours…
a woolen sweater
a worn sock hat
my fingerless gloves,
while in my head
my restless demons dance
leaving me to sit here now
alone and with regret
for the choices that i made….

i think of you now…
and a tear fills my eye,
a thousand questions i cannot answer
rips my soul apart…
for do we really ever know
the pain that will fill our hearts one day,
fill our hearts because,
because of the choices that we made…

 

i tied my shoes with laces caked in mud
the leather, stain in sweat and worn miles
my feet tired and blistered
while you chose to tie your slippers
with feet blistered worst than mine
from endless practices….
and in a way we both danced
each to our own drummer….
we danced because of the choices we made
and now i wonder did we have a choice
i never had your slippers and did you ever have my boots
and because of that….
yea the choices that we made

i choose a summit
you chose the stage
while i bathed in the warmth of an early morning sun
always the wind i felt….
while you,
you chose the spotlight
the applause may it never end
we both feel this in our soul
for this becomes the essence of who we are
the essence of who we are
because of the choices that we made

 

i sit in a silent regret
as i watch you stretch…
how many times did you stand and hold the rail,
endless practices
a routine that became your life,
always in that room of dreams…
and if that spotlight never came
would it really matter
because i watched you dance that day
and your smile told me what your heart felt
i envy the choices that you made….

and for me
i hardly ever stretched…
i just laced my boots
shouldered my pack….
never did i have to practice
in that room of dreams…
i just found a trail and let my boots
find my peace in heart
because of the choices that i made…

and today i cry
my feet are worn from the miles
my boots sit silently in a closet
the miles i cannot walk
and if i had one wish today
just for a moment
that is all i ask….
just for a moment…
to tie your slippers and dance,
ah the choices that i made
tess julianna 5/23/18

Essay on Transitioning: Fighting my Demons

i am learning… learning that being born with gender dysphoria simply means i must fight demons for my entire life…. i have been in transition for over two and half years now, yet my demons persists… i have had complete facial surgery along with my gender reassignment… a surgery i dreamed and prayed for all my life…. surgeries that would allow me to be who i always dreamed of being…. to simply live my life as the person i always wished i could… yet i fight my demons everyday…. is this the curse of gender dysphoria, or are the feelings i’m feeling today just the feelings that many lonely women feel…

there are always choices in life… one always has the opportunity to make decisions…. which course on my compass do i take, which path do i choose to focus on… the choice ultimately will rest with me… do i let the “regret” darken my life with sadness or do i cast this all aside and seek the light, the happiness of who i am today…. the choice is mine..

and as i take this journey, a journey i had to take, there have been many who have helped me fight my demons…. a wife with an unconditional love, my therapist, label them friends or my army of supporters or simply just angels sent down to hold my hand at a given moment…. they all have helped me to fight my demons…. they can help me find my way but ultimately the battle is mine to fight alone…. the choice is mine to make… i can lay down my sword and have my life be devoured by my demons or i can fight, the choice is ultimately mine alone…

since the dawn of my puberty i’ve heard my siren’s haunting songs…. i’ve spent an empty lifetime looking at girls wishing that was me… the pain was constant and those visions constantly engulfed my world, drowning me…. everywhere i looked i saw what i was denied… at times i even wondered was my sight a curse or a gift….. i simply wanted my world “Painted Black”….. i prayed everyday, yet there was no god to hear my prayers… every night before i closed my eyes i prayed for my dream, yet i woke every morning just to face another day as the person i really didn’t want to be…. and i did that everyday in my life… so how did i fight these demons during my life… what could possibly take the desperation and pain away even if it was only temporarily…..

and so i took to spinning fantasies…… fantasies just to make my world a little more livable… a world that i wanted but was denied…. these were the dreams of the life i so desperately wanted… and soon my fantasies became my demons… i could not exist throughout the day without the fantasies of the world that i was denied… i needed these moments just to make it to another day…… as a teenager, i resorted to crossdressing in hopes to just experience what was stolen from me, even if it was only for a moment….. these became moments that i loved but only to feel the pain of the world that i was denied…. crossdressing always began with hope yet always ended in shame and tears….. i could not even enjoy the intimacies of making love with my wife… no the essence of her beauty and sexuality was destroyed by my demons…. the ugly fact was i could not enjoy the beauty of her body… no it was the twisted fantasies that i painted in my mind that enable me to go through with this sacred act of love…. i had to be her in this act of love…..i always wanted to take the submissive role, to be wildly caressed… i wanted my breasts to be smothered with love with hands that fondled them….. i wanted the seductive scent of her perfume on my body
and in the end i simply lived every moment of my life wishing “i was born a girl instead of the mess of a man that i am”…. and i lived in this hell for 66 years

Janis Ian wrote a song she titled “seventeen”…. it was a biographical song about her teenage years… feeling unattractive and socially left out, she viewed herself as a “wallflower” throughout her early years …. she was not in the popular circle of girls… she never had the teenage romances or the dates and proms that all teenage girls so desire… she simply looked at herself as the ugly duckling….. in my many years of teaching high school i saw my share of these girls….. quiet and withdrawn, and i always wondered what their real thoughts and feeling were… i saw the contrast between the “boy’s favorite” and the girls left in the shadows…. did they too lived their life fighting demons….

and today how many women are just like these girls… dreaming of being loved…. dreaming of a beautiful relationship… dreaming of just being touch by a hand other than their own…… dreaming of a hand to hold and lips that would kiss them…. kiss them forever….
and now i ask, “are these their demons that they must fight everyday?”

and today i find myself no different than these women and the demons they fight… for even though i am now complete in every way possible there is a part of me that i know will never be…. i lay here in this bed alone, and since my gender reassignment surgery i must perform this task now for the rest of my life… i lay here alone, and i will always be alone in these moments, that’s the ugly truth of the matter…. regardless of the tears i shed now, i will never do anything that would cause her to shed another tear…. she gave up her world because of the love she has for me….

and so i continue to fight my demons… they never stop haunting me with their songs…. i lay in this empty bed of solitude wanting to know what does it feel like to be physically loved…. to have hands caress this body and to bury me with their passion of kisses… to have someone make love to you because they so desire your body….. someone who wants to be smothered by the scent of my perfume…. i cry to be touch by another hand yet i know i never will be…. i want someone to dance with me, to hold me tight in their arms…. this world in which i exist is “still filled” with vision of what i will never have.. do my eyes seek out these lovers….. i can’t even open a magazine without staring sadly at an add with someone holding or touching as i cry to be…… was all this part of the bargain i got at my crossroads… yes i became what i always dreamed and prayed to be only in the end to still have demons to fight…
i wonder, is this all just a “simple twist of fate”

this is my world… i can never describe the joy i feel everyday being the woman i have become today, it’s magic, it’s a beautiful prayer, a blessing i have to enjoy now for eternity, yet the choice is mine…..
do i feed my demons with tears and depression or do i simply smile and remember the prayer i held as a child… the choice is mine
tess julianna 5/18/18

taken from my journal, “songs of the sirens”
March 24
today is my “discharge day”, i walk away complete in so many ways that i wasn’t before… there will be so many tears i will shed today…
most people go to a hospital because of failing health, not i…. GreenBaum Surgical Center has always been a dream, a dream in my future, a dream at times i never knew it would be worth holding on to, believing in… for most of my life i never really knew this Surgical Center existed at all but it was the idea that there “would be” a place that “understood”, a staff that would “embrace my dream” too, maybe in their own way… and if i did know of this Surgical Center, would i have walked around this building in my bearded days, daring to touch it for fear that i would never want to walk away….. i know that would have been the case……
life is full of twists and turns, stumbles, falls but also summits and dreams, we always have a choice, a choice on what to focus on…. and my dream led to a journey…. and to take this journey i learned very early i would need many a hands to hold, and i would find also an “unconditional love” that i never knew could exist…. she loved and believed in her bearded sailor and refused to let “his” hand fall alone, she would hold that hand regardless……
and soon after i began this journey i did learn of this building and of a doctor, but once again this was a dream that i lied about, i stood in that room “coming out”, only to promise her, as i cried my tears of shame, that this would never be a part of my journey….. it’s so sad, but i spent a lifetime of telling lies, it never ended, lies began to get more complex and form a tangled web of deceit, lies covered the essence of the person i was….. and as this dream began to slowly unfold the lies just continued….. i promised with blackened lies, again and again, that surgery was not a part of this dream…. but i could never stop lying to myself, not anymore…
i spent a lifetime trying to understand my forbidden desires and finally i had to stand in front of them, stand and accept the harsh truth of who i really was… and for that truth to be fulfilled i had to stop lying to at least myself… no, with all my heart i wanted this Surgical Center to become a pivotal point in my journey…..
i will never forget the first time i walked into Dr. Meltzer’s office… i heard of his name from many, always it was “his” name that they spoke of with love and admiration….. well it took me almost a year just for a consultation that i believed would really never lead to anything but more broken dreams…. that office was my “land of Oz” and soon i would see the “great one”, and it was during that visit that Dr. Meltzer introduced me to my surgeon, Dr. Ley…… words cannot express my respect and appreciation that i have towards you Dr. Ley….. i’ve been through his office doors many times now, and yes this will be the second time i have been blessed with the opportunity to walk out of the Greenbaum Surgical Center reborn….
and today i will walk through those doors in a river of tears…. i will walk out as a person i could only dream of being…. i will open that door to leave, only wanting to never leave… leaving means saying goodbyes that i just don’t have it in my young heart to say… to the nursing staff of Greenbaum Surgical Center you ALL are my dreamcatchers and i love you to death…..
to Dr. Meltzer and especially my surgeon, Dr. Ley, i don’t even know how to begin to say thank you…. to your unbelievable staff, i want to hug each and everyone of you….. “you all” have always been there for me, been there with a smile, with love and i knew you held my dreams with love and respect… that i will always hold dear…
today i will walk out these hospital doors screaming to every girl like me, screaming never stop believing in your dreams, believe in fairy godmothers, in angels, in ballerinas and especially in God…. and know that in my heart i pray you can all find your own Greenbaum Surgical Center and that special doctor’s office, a place where dreams will become not just a dream but your life
tess julianna 3/24/18

there was a simple royal blue envelope, in the pile of mail that i brought into the house,. it was announcing my 50th Class Reunion from Sterling Regional High School…. i left it on my desk while i went about opening the other mail and finishing the various little tasks that i had been doing…. finally out of curiosity i opened the announcement that stated the reunion would be held this coming October…. no, why in the world would i ever want to attend…. i noticed no names that rang a bell but did see a Facebook site i could go to in order to register and get further information about my classmates from a time that i would just like to forget… i then tossed the paper aside, as i had other things i would rather be doing…

curiosity kills the cat they say and later that evening i found myself going to the Facebook site where i could see the old classmates that had registered…. i slowly scanned the names and only one or two seemed to ring a bell but what did interest me was what a lot of these people ended up doing and where they now lived… before i knew it i was out in the garage looking for my old high school yearbook, and yes i found it…
as i opened it and began to slowly turn the pages all that pain and dysphoria i lived through during my teenage years seemed to come rushing back… i looked at photos of girls that i had stared at for endless hours just wishing that i was them and not the person i was…. i remember staring at their hairdo or their makeup and the smiles they wore, why was that not my reflection, my life instead of the hell that i had to live in…. i looked up the photo of my english teacher from my sophomore year… i remember how i would look at her and just dream about a life that wasn’t mine to have….. there really were very few signature in my yearbook as i remember how hard it was for me to ask someone to sign my yearbook and then what would i write in their book, “do you know how many hours i stared at you wishing i was simply you”….. i saw the photo of Laurie Tate, a cheerleader i actually dated, well i wouldn’t say dated as i took her out twice and feared every minute of that evening not knowing how to make conversation or just thinking about what i would have to do when i dropped her off later that night… i looked at the photos of some of the boys i would associate with while at school…. i remember our lunch table and how i just couldn’t fit into their conversation about girls…. i remember clearly i always walked to school and from school alone… i remember once when i left the crowded scene of other students i would carry my books in a feminine way, just wishing to God things would change…
i spent four years at Sterling HS living in a prison created by my gender dysphoria, 4 years of just nothing but tears, living in the shadow of that rusty razor…. i was a below than average student in high school, hell who could focus or get excited about school work when you were living in a hell…. i never joined any clubs because i always feared what the other student would think… i had always lived my whole life in a fear of what others would think of me, would my dirty thoughts be known… and i remember the Saturday morning football games where all i did was stare at the cheerleaders…. always asking why, never getting an answer….
i then saw a website i could go to inorder to update my data… there was my high school graduation photo… i wore a fake smile and there was just something about my eyes…. yes it was marking a time i would graduate from high school and move on into the real world, to college and then make my mark in this world… i left my high school years and my years of living behind locked doors in fear of my secret moments, in fear that what i was doing would be known….. it seemed i would spend most of my life behind locked doors in fear…..
i left my high school years only to fail at college and dropped out after only two years….. socially i was nothing but a misfit for i lived my life in dreams that always were broken….

and if i did go to that website and update my biography it would look impressive… i spent eight years as an Air Traffic Controller, graduated from ASU with a degree in Geology and went on to a teaching career of over 20 years during which i pursued two more graduate degrees in science…. i retired early and was now employed by Princess Cruises as a Naturalist (Geologist/Marine Biologist) which enabled be to cruise throughout the world… yes i have been to 6 of the 7 continents and sailed all the major oceans and seas that blanket this planet…. i sailed every degree of longitude and most of the degrees of latitude….. would i even put that my wife and i just celebrated our 46th wedding anniversary…….but then how would i update my photo… would you see the beautiful smile i now wear and the name that all know me by today, tess julianna…..
yes i am transgender and lived in a dysphoria of 66 years…. my teenage and high schools years were wasted in a nightmare… why in the world would i ever want to return to my high school reunion… what was there to treasure or smile about
tess julianna 2/21/18

“thoughts on “Studio Spotlight Cinderella”

i wanted to touch but i knew not to, i wanted so deeply to belong, but i knew i never could… my eyes raced around the room trying to grasp it all, yet i knew in my heart i never would be able to…. i cried deep within my heart and my chest seemed heavy because of the sorrow, or was it the joy as my tears continuously stained my face…. i watched so closely those that belong, they had that feeling of ownership… this was no big deal for them for this is where they belonged, this was their world…. i watched as the door, a door i would never be able to have the ownership of walking through open and let those who belong walk into an entirely different world than mine, it was the world of a dancer, and these dancer were so special to my heart, as these dancers danced the ballet…. i thought of all my friends from last summer, i thought of you Zachary, for i listened with my heart as you told me about this world…

i finally stood in the lobby of Ballet Arizona, this was the School of Ballet Arizona… i belonged to many different educational experiences in my lifetime and walked through countless door to learn… i had that feeling of ownership that those dancers who casually walked through their door had, but this was one door that was never opened to me, and today i cry because now i wanted that lifetime… no they didn’t carry the books that i carried when i walked through my doors, no they had their bag of sweats, their tights and leg warmers but mainly they carried their badge of distinction, they carried their ballet shoes…. my shoes were always heavy and bulky for they took me into a world of geology, that was the world that i had ownership of… their shoes were soft and seemed so delicate to me… and i wonder what they felt like on their feet, but i knew they were soaked in sweat, the sweat of a dancer’s endless practices…
i quietly watch the dancers, the little girls in their black tights with their long hair tied in a dancer’s bun on their head… they chatted as they walked through that door with smiles on their faces…. i thought of how many countless hours they had already practiced… their conversations were probably filled with images of the world of dance and i knew in my heart they all carried the dream of being that ballerina on a stage, a stage with the spotlight on them…
and then i saw the images of him, he was young and had an innocence about him… this too was his world of dreams… already his body was lean yet his reflection was gentle like a dancer’s should be…. he knew in his heart that this was the playing field that he belonged on, and i’m sure he never listened to the harsh words that many other boys playing on their field of dreams would throw at him… i never would of had his confidence or his belief in his dream, no my world would of been shattered by those harsh words….
and that endless moment finally passed… my thoughts were broken as the reality of the moment became clear… i walked away from “their door” and saw myself become part of the crowd that waited for a performance, a performance that i knew would unleash another flood of emotions…
i didn’t sit in the seat i sat in all summer long, no this was a different theater, a different world, but i sat as close to it as i could…. this theater was different and i could sensei it in the emotions that filled my body…. i could see it on the dance floor, the curtains… this was sacred ground to me but i knew i had to be close enough to see their faces, that expression of joy that i always saw in my dancers from last summer…. and as the music finally filled the room i saw the dancers enter… i wanted to see Paul there dancing with Stephanie but i couldn’t find them amongst these dancers so i cried… i did a lot of crying in that hour… i was so happy to be alive, to be here and to have the love in my heart for this world that i was witness to….
and what i loved most about this evening were the dancers were not in their elegant costumes but just in their practice tights…. the colors didn’t blend but each wore the reflection of that individual dancer… were these their favorite tights, the ones they felt most comfortable in, the blend of colors that were their favorite…. these were the badges of their countless hours of practice….
i wanted these minutes to go on forever, i didn’t want the music to ever stop… i didn’t know where to focus so i let my eyes dance aimlessly, yet i tried to see every dancer’s face in those minutes…. my eyes were always racing back to their feet, standing so effortlessly on their toes…. the movement of their legs, their muscles tensed yet the motion so soft and gentle… and my tears of joy kept silently flowing….
and when Cinderella and her prince finally came into view and began their ballet i saw immediately what all those others dancers strived so hard to achieve… these two dancers were at a level that seemed far above the rest… i saw it in their faces, the poetry of their motion and in their feet…. but then it was over, the music had stopped only to fill that room with the applause of love and appreciation…
as the applause died down the Head Dance-Master took the floor and called out a few of his dancers… they wore the reflection of being exhausted, of giving their all in these moments… they stood there with a respect for their dance…. this was their playing field but it was a sacred field and they showed that respect…. before us they stood there quietly trying to stretch out their tired muscles, they stood there with modesty not parading around making useless noise of “their” performance…… they stood there with dignity yet each one took a moment to talk and let us into their sacred world of dance…
i left quietly, just as i entered but my heart was filled with an incredible joy

“reflections: thoughts on my immortality #22”

reflections…
the past that silently left,
left when we were not aware
that today will never be our yesterday’s…
you want to hold on tight
but sadly you realize
leaves will always change their colors
and fall
while our winter’s of tomorrow await…

be it a song,
for you remember those feelings well,
sometimes even better than a faded photo
of a frozen moment…
lost amongst all the other fragments of time
that you tried to steal
but you can’t,
you can’t because those moment were lost
and it’s hard to hold on,
to cling to something that isn’t there anymore….

and what of dreams
don’t they too tarnish
tarnish in the winter of life….
so are my dreams really just a compass
silently guiding me
from my past to points unknown…
but then with a compass you must have faith,
a star you can see
believe in and trust…
so are my dreams then reflections
reflections of pain and disappointment,
tarnished wishes or dreams
forgotten by my fairy princess,
or are they the last remnant of hope
fading silently in the shadows of my age…
tessjulianna 1/22/18

 

Feb 3 thoughts on “Studio Spotlight Cinderella”

i wanted to touch but i knew not to, i wanted so deeply to belong, but i knew i never could… my eyes raced around the room trying to grasp it all, yet i knew in my heart i never would be able to…. i cried deep within my heart and my chest seemed heavy because of the sorrow, or was it the joy as my tears continuously stained my face…. i watched so closely those that belong, they had that feeling of ownership… this was no big deal for them for this is where they belonged, this was their world…. i watched as the door, a door i would never be able to have the ownership of walking through open and let those who belong walk into an entirely different world than mine, it was the world of a dancer, and these dancer were so special to my heart, as these dancers danced the ballet…. i thought of all my friends from last summer, i thought of you Zachary, for i listened with my heart as you told me about this world…

i finally stood in the lobby of Ballet Arizona, this was the School of Ballet Arizona… i belonged to many different educational experiences in my lifetime and walked through countless door to learn… i had that feeling of ownership that those dancers who casually walked through their door had, but this was one door that was never opened to me, and today i cry because now i wanted that lifetime… no they didn’t carry the books that i carried when i walked through my doors, no they had their bag of sweats, their tights and leg warmers but mainly they carried their badge of distinction, they carried their ballet shoes…. my shoes were always heavy and bulky for they took me into a world of geology, that was the world that i had ownership of… their shoes were soft and seemed so delicate to me… and i wonder what they felt like on their feet, but i knew they were soaked in sweat, the sweat of a dancer’s endless practices…
i quietly watch the dancers, the little girls in their black tights with their long hair tied in a dancer’s bun on their head… they chatted as they walked through that door with smiles on their faces…. i thought of how many countless hours they had already practiced… their conversations were probably filled with images of the world of dance and i knew in my heart they all carried the dream of being that ballerina on a stage, a stage with the spotlight on them…
and then i saw the images of him, he was young and had an innocence about him… this too was his world of dreams… already his body was lean yet his reflection was gentle like a dancer’s should be…. he knew in his heart that this was the playing field that he belonged on, and i’m sure he never listened to the harsh words that many other boys playing on their field of dreams would throw at him… i never would of had his confidence or his belief in his dream, no my world would of been shattered by those harsh words….
and that endless moment finally passed… my thoughts were broken as the reality of the moment became clear… i walked away from “their door” and saw myself become part of the crowd that waited for a performance, a performance that i knew would unleash another flood of emotions…
i didn’t sit in the seat i sat in all summer long, no this was a different theater, a different world, but i sat as close to it as i could…. this theater was different and i could sensei it in the emotions that filled my body…. i could see it on the dance floor, the curtains… this was sacred ground to me but i knew i had to be close enough to see their faces, that expression of joy that i always saw in my dancers from last summer…. and as the music finally filled the room i saw the dancers enter… i wanted to see Paul there dancing with Stephanie but i couldn’t find them amongst these dancers so i cried… i did a lot of crying in that hour… i was so happy to be alive, to be here and to have the love in my heart for this world that i was witness to….
and what i loved most about this evening were the dancers were not in their elegant costumes but just in their practice tights…. the colors didn’t blend but each wore the reflection of that individual dancer… were these their favorite tights, the ones they felt most comfortable in, the blend of colors that were their favorite…. these were the badges of their countless hours of practice….
i wanted these minutes to go on forever, i didn’t want the music to ever stop… i didn’t know where to focus so i let my eyes dance aimlessly, yet i tried to see every dancer’s face in those minutes…. my eyes were always racing back to their feet, standing so effortlessly on their toes…. the movement of their legs, their muscles tensed yet the motion so soft and gentle… and my tears of joy kept silently flowing….
and when Cinderella and her prince finally came into view and began their ballet i saw immediately what all those others dancers strived so hard to achieve… these two dancers were at a level that seemed far above the rest… i saw it in their faces, the poetry of their motion and in their feet…. but then it was over, the music had stopped only to fill that room with the applause of love and appreciation…
as the applause died down the Head Dance-Master took the floor and called out a few of his dancers… they wore the reflection of being exhausted, of giving their all in these moments… they stood there with a respect for their dance…. this was their playing field but it was a sacred field and they showed that respect…. before us they stood there quietly trying to stretch out their tired muscles, they stood there with modesty not parading around making useless noise of “their” performance…… they stood there with dignity yet each one took a moment to talk and let us into their sacred world of dance…
i left quietly, just as i entered but my heart was filled with an incredible joy

i would say when i was younger these were my feelings but i would be lying to you, for these thoughts occurred throughout my life…
we hear the tale, did robert johnson sell his soul to the devils at the crossroads to learn to play the blues, his music can be so haunting and if so, what would it take you to sell your soul… by selling your soul you have consciously given up any hope that what you seek in life can or will be reached… you are willing to pay the price for eternal damnation just to experience your upmost desire even if it’s only for a moment… remember prayers have been prayed for a lifetime and they were just empty words heard by no god or being… you are desperate, reaching out to whatever can heal your soul… in my case i just want to be happy…
my sight, a gift or a curse, i often wondered… during most of my life it was simply a double edge razor, her image was everywhere, everywhere except in the reflection i saw in the mirror….. during my late teens and adult years two songs played continuously in my mind, the Rolling Stones, “Paint it Black” and Cohen’s “Dress Rehearsal Rag”… my world was just that, i hated what i saw and i wanted to paint it black to take my pain away…. everywhere i looked i saw what i wasn’t and it hurt…. my dreams at night were always broken only to wake and find yet my prayers were not heard… so why not sell my soul, could it be worst than the pain i felt every day…. i would stand naked in the shower grabbing what i wanted to be rid of… a razor would heal my soul so easily….. a thousand times i played my dress rehearsal rag in my mind…. it would be so simple but i was a coward so i just cried….
and today my identification all reads “female” but is that the case….. my real identification are the “tells” i carry everyday because my hormones poisoned my image for 66 long years, i have the image of a male… my shoulders too broad for a girl, my hands, facial features and the list could go on and on…. we transition in so many ways to heal, my body language can be modified and i can imitate her reflection but that can only go so far…. i dress many times to hid the “tells” that scream out who i am…. but who am i… even that i struggled with, all as part of my transition….
and now, today i hold my bag of silver, what price i’m willing to pay… silver i had not, but did i sell my soul for this silver….. i am transgender, i am now and i will always be…. you are female and i am transgender, it’s that simple…. so what am i willing to do to be as you…. yes we share the same gender but that can not be seen, abstract in a way, all in the mind…. but stand me naked before the world, cut me open to see my secrets and i will never be you… XY is not XX, the code of life can not be fooled…
in less than two weeks i will lay on an operating table for nine long hours under the care of a surgeon just to change some of my facial features… can the knife be a miracle… no, and that’s not what i’m seeking, i’m too wise for that… but the knife can soften the “him” to bring out more of what i feel in my heart, but i wonder, am i just selling my soul but in another way…..
tess julianna 11/3/17

yesterday cleaning the garage i found 2 bins of my old cloths that never got sent to goodwill… it was like Christmas seeing so much of my old cloths… will i ever wear them again, i really think not but just seeing them and touching them did feel so good….. and yes, i’ll be honest, i did try a few on….. yes jules is still very much a part of the woman i am today… yes i transitioned to a woman but there’s a part of “his” entity that will always be with me… and for that i am happy…
it’s funny i am now tess, that’s what all my identification states, but really what is a name and does the physical appearance or gender expression really make the person…. hell all my life it seemed i wore costumes, in part to express who i was or what i wanted to be…. yes my biological or genetic sex is male but my gender is female and i think it’s a combination of these two forces which makes the so called person i am… today i feel such a beautiful female presence within me and having my physical appearance being female and being able to live my life as female is beautiful, it’s very peaceful… yes finally i am living my life as the gender i was assigned at birth…. all my body language as a female seems so natural to me now….
in my past i was never comfortable with my physical presence with being a male, as the assorted costumes of appearances i wore for all those years will testify to that fact… i was searching for that comfort zone but little did i realize that my comfort zone was my “lost angel”…
being of “two spirits” was a term used by many cultures for my situation… yes i can see that… i have been blessed to love from a man’s perspective and now from a female’s, but was that really a man’s perspective…. there was always that female presence in so much that defined my character…. i was gentle and showed my emotions more than a typical male…. and it’s funny but when i was having a consultation for facial surgery the surgeon was honest and said you really don’t have very masculine facial features yet they are not very feminine either…..

during the hard days of my transition i felt i had to cast jules out of my life completely…. i removed every photo of him and anything that really spoke of his masculine past… i hated being referred to by his name and mis-gendering me was a capital offense… excerpt from “i’m tired of crying”
my ears are bleeding
bleeding with pain
every time i hear “his” name….
please for the sake of my sanity
let me hear “her” name
let me hear “her” name….
i’m so sorry
yea i understand it’s hard
but “she” cannot be invisible
for “she” has a spirit
and that spirit has a name…
and like a butterfly that just left the cocoon
standing on a branch
its wings drying
she is unfolding her wings
and now she is waiting to fly….
let “her” fly
let “me” fly

i almost lost my relationship with my son because he felt comfortable still calling me Dad… my transition is hard on him…. today i told him he can call me Dad for as long as he wants for i am proud to be his Dad….
and today our house is filled once again with photos of him and yes there are probably just as many of this beautiful woman i am today…. and now when my wife makes a simple mistake and calls me jules, as she did for 44 beautiful years, she will always apologize, but now i tell her never ever apologize using his name, he is still within me and i love him…..

and finally there are moments in my days now that i’ll sit, maybe in thought or doing some simple task, and in those moments i am neither “she” or “him” but just me, and i love these minutes too

tess julianna 10/17/17