Have we lost our way?

Several weeks ago I hit a turning point in my journey. I found myself getting angry to the point of blind rage over the very core of my struggle, namely my identity and my notion of self worth. It was blinding me to compassion, to understanding, to seeing things beyond black and white.

It was my therapist that pointed this out to me. In the past, whenever she would hit a sensitive spot, I would not react well. I would become defensive, and feel isolated and misunderstood. Something changed this time around. The words were difficult to absorb, the idea of being so angry as to shut out all reason really made me feel like I had failed. What changed this time around was what I took away from her message.

I knew she was right. I knew I needed to change. I also knew that my anger was my way of compensating for trauma I have not yet dealt with. Trauma in of itself is difficult enough to face. Trauma as related to being transgender brings me shame and humiliation, and not at least more than a modicum of shame. After all, there is obviously something wrong me, so I have been told. The things that have been angering me are the classics -- being misgendered, being poorly treated by those that on the surface I would tell myself are loved ones, but who deep down inside I know are harmful to my well being and sense of safety.

It was a turning point not so much because of some epiphany or "a-ha" moment, but more for the way I took it as an opportunity to course correct without my usual self loathing and self deprecation. It was also the first time I truly started to take a hold of my identity - being transgender does not define me, but I am, after all, first and foremost a trans woman.

All of which lead to an emotional breakdown in my trans support group several weeks ago. I cried in a way that was more like someone who wails a guttural cry after losing a loved one or who has been thoroughly subjugated. It felt so humiliating, I could not have stopped even if I had wanted to. Fortunately, those in the room had the foresight to just let me grieve.

Grieve what? What is it I have been running away from for so long?

Thirty years ago, in a night of drinking at local dive while out in my dual life presenting as trans, someone spiked my drink. Much of the detail of what happened next is murky, but after years of suppressing this horrifying memory of that night, I have to come to terms with verbalizing the worst violation anyone can ever experience... I was raped, and the perpetrator was another trans person. The one place I should have been able to go for safety was compromised.

I remember being on my stomach when this violent act occurred.It was dark, but I can make out in my memories other people in the room who did nothing. They fucking did nothing as I lay on my stomach on some kind of stage or low table or what not, with someone else's semen running out of me and down my leg.

When we went out to these bars to drink, mingle, and yes to find potential hookups, the expectation was never that of safety. We would dress trashy, after all, that what "trannies" did. We weren't human anyways, so what did it matter? It's obvious even after all of this time who's fault it was, for dressing that way, for being in a compromising unsafe situation, for being trans.

My identity was taken from me that night. It wasnt the first time I had experienced sexual violence. This time however was different. This person broke me. And now, I still carry the anger of that night, and of all of the times I was never safe from physical and sexual sadists who prey on those who cannot fight or defend themselves.

But there was also a trigger recently. My therapist pointed out this has been going on for a while. Recent events, however, has triggered new memories. What events are those?

Innocent victims, immigrants, who flee sadistic and dangerous governments and gangs to come here looking for a better life, and to be met with even crueler megalomaniacal racists and bigots. We blame the victims, they shouldn't have come from such "shithole" countries just as I shouldn't have  dressed slutty or frequented unsafe places where other trans folks congregate. What the fuck was I expecting? What were they expecting?

Life isn't supposed to be fair or just. Life is pain, you just get used t it...

I am on the verge of so may wonderful changes right now, of a journey that can be so rich and fulfilling. How do I accomplish that while my past holds me hostage? I want so much to help others, but I cant even figure out how to help myself.

To be continued...