Family--Chosen and Given

I refer to two different groups of people in my life when I talk of family: My given family, and my chosen family. My chosen family consists of people who I choose to include in my life because they are supportive and caring. My given family are those people whose lives’ I was born into. Often times (in my case) the two are not the same.

It’s so difficult to figure out who you are and often times, all you want is to be accepted. When your given family doesn’t accept who you are and who you were born to be, it can crush you. Growing up, thinking I was a freak, really messed me up. I couldn’t love myself. I wasn’t proud of myself for anything and I felt like I always had something to prove. I had myself convinced that if I was a good enough child, my family would be ok with the fact that I wasn’t normal. Nothing I did felt good enough for that.

I remember laying in bed, praying to God that he would turn me into a boy. That maybe I could go back to when I was born and come out normal, or even wake up as a boy. If I had nothing to do with it, it couldn’t be my fault and my family would accept it because God must have done it. I knew it would never happen, but every night when I went to bed, I couldn’t help hoping and praying myself to sleep. My family is very religious. I mean, my aunt doesn’t even approve of tattoos and piercings because it alters our bodies which, “are the temples of the holy spirit.” So how in the world was I supposed to tell them that I wanted to change my body from female to male!?!?

That’s where my chosen family comes in. People know that there is something different about me. The way I look, walk, talk…they can tell that I’m not your average dyke. “Butch” as my mom likes to put it when she gets angry at me for sitting with my legs open or something, “masculine.” But those people who accept me for that difference, people who love me even after I tell them that I’m trans, people who actually get mad at me when I call myself a freak…those are the people who I surround myself with. I never thought that I could have that. I thought that if I didn’t act girlie enough, people would ignore me or tease me like my family does. But instead I found that there are many people out there who are willing to love me for me. And I call them my chosen family. I got the name from one of the first people who I ever admitted to that I was Trans. I think I cried when I first told her because I was already anticipating her not talking to me anymore. But instead she hugged me, and a week later she gave me a bunch of books that she had bought online about trans-stuff. I honestly couldn’t believe that there could be someone so amazing as her. She became my best friend and still is.

To me, chosen family can be more important than given family, if they are not the same. The word family, as I learned from Lilo and Stitch, means “no one gets left behind.” So when my “family” left me behind—blocked me on facebook, won’t see me or speak to me, sent me hateful and condemning emails—I realized that that isn’t what family is. There is another kind of family:  the ones who won’t leave you, the ones who don’t ignore you just because you are different.

I guess I just say this to reassure myself but, there is hope. There is always hope. No matter who you are or what you are going through, there will always be people who care, people who will pick you up when you are kicked down, people who will be there with you through the storm. If there is a God, I thank him that I am loved for who I am. Because I am not willing to give up who I am for people who will only love who I’m not.

Public Secrets--Why I Enlisted

I am in the Navy. Every day is hard. Every day is scary. Because on any given day, I could be discharged for being Transgendered. 

I put my friends in danger as well. When in the military, you are responsible for reporting any misconduct or breach of regulations. For those of my friends who are aware of my identity, or even who guess at it (it isn’t really hard to see), it is their responsibility to turn me in.

No one has said a word yet. Which gives me hope. I often wonder if the military will ever allow Transgendered service members. It’s hard, no matter who you are or who you identify as, to be in a setting where you know that you are not wanted. We had “Don’t Ask Don’t Tell Repeal Training” in which they made it clear that the only thing changing was that you could not be discharged for being homosexual. No rights. No opportunities. No ability to claim a same sex partner as a husband or wife. No grievance pay for service-related death. No medical benefits. No housing/housing allowance. To sit there and hear that, though you wouldn’t get thrown out, you were still entitled to nothing because your love for another human being isn’t recognized as “legitimate”…it’s hard to remember sometimes why I joined.

I enlisted in the Navy for a variety of reasons. To fight for my country. To defend the right to live, love, worship, work. To see the world. To get money for college—education in something that I actually wanted to do. To be proud of myself for the first time in my life. To prove to myself that no matter what I was born as (female) I was still a sailor and a part of something bigger. To run from the world that I thought didn’t want me. But when I see everyday how much I have to live in hiding everyday because of the contract I signed and the commitment I made, it makes me wonder if I really am fighting for freedom or if I am fighting for a popularity contest of social interests. If you aren’t white enough, if you aren’t rich enough, if you aren’t Christian enough, if you aren’t smart enough, if you aren’t handsome enough, if you aren’t male enough, if you aren’t straight enough, if you aren’t normal enough…then it isn’t your freedom and your rights that I’m putting my life on the line for. That isn’t what I signed up for.

A lot of my friends ask me why I stay if I’m so miserable. Some days I can’t even answer that question. But deep down, I know the answer: I will not give up on my country. I believe in Country. I believe in the freedom that our originators talked of and dreamed into existence. I believe that with enough people and ideals and voices, we can have any kind of freedom that we stand up for. That is why I stand by my commitment to the United States Navy. Because I believe in the promise and the hope that comes with the name America. I am patriotic, and maybe to a point that most people my age cannot understand. But I am also queer, maybe to a point that most people above my age cannot understand. Whatever I am, I fight for it. American, transgender, sailor, friend.

So scary or not, hard or not, I am going to continue being the best sailor that I can be and hope for a future where people like me can serve freely. I will continue to hope for a military where if you have the want, the drive, the commitment, the respect, the honor, the courage…you can stand up and fight for your country without hiding behind a mask. We are already making steps towards it. We are now a military that does not discriminate against sexual orientation. Maybe someday (and someday soon) we can be a military that does not discriminate against you for being uncomfortable in your own skin.

Well here it goes. My name is Jason James, but it wasn't always. I am a FTM (female to male) Transgender. I was born a female, and am transitioning to a man.

I've never blogged before. I never really saw the point. But I want to write down what happens to me as time goes by. I know how much it sucks to feel like there is no one out there and in a way, I'm trying to use this as a comfort zone for myself. But I also want people in my shoes to know that they aren't alone.

So to start off, how about an introduction?
I grew up in a small town in Illinois. When the cows aren't being too loud, you can hear the corn grow. I grew up in a HUGE family, we all woke up on Sundays and went to church together, come home and work in the yard and then come in and help mom make dinner, served at 6:00pm exactly, every night, without fail. From the outside looking in, I had a cookie-cutter, picture perfect life (minus the cows maybe).
My parents were divorced when I was 11. My dad was diagnosed with Pancreatic cancer and died before I turned 13. I started smoking, and before I turned 14 I was already drinking. I cut for a while, but I stopped that because it was easily noticed and I didn't want anyone to talk to me about it. I developed bulemia which was easy to keep up because of all my siblings running around and causing helpful distractions. I got into theatre in highschool and that seemed to help me alot. By the time I was a sophomore in highschool, I was smoking more than just cigarettes; I would sneak out to go to parties, and I got money from anywhere I could find it to keep paying for my alternate reality.
I tried so hard to be a good kid after that. I don't know how I did it, but I stopped partying, stopped everything except tobacco use, I got straight A's (mostly) and was involved in every single club I could think of. But no matter how hard I tried, I couldn't help but feel like something wasn't right.
I had heard of the word once before but I  was scared to look it up. What if my family ever found out? I was already trying so hard to keep quiet from them that I was fooling around with girls, how was I supposed to keep quiet from them that I wanted to be a boy too? I told my sister one night but she called me a freak, rolled over and went to bed.
It wasn't until I got to college that I shared with a few friends that I liked women. "We always knew you were a lesbian!" But I knew I wasn't. I said they could call me gay, but not a lesbian. I told a couple of my friends that I wanted a penis and they bought me one: a turquoise blue strap-on. I was afraid to explain what I really meant because I didn't want to lose them so I kept quiet.
I didn't want to be an actress, which is what I was going to school for. I didn't want to keep playing the part of a girl, in real life and in my working life. I decided to enlist in the Navy. I wanted to be a SEAL but they won't take women. So to the aviation field I went and that's where I am now. I am 20 years old, fighting to figure out and be who I am.

That's really all there is for now. I will add more posts as time goes on, but for now, good afternoon, good evening, and good night.