I will never not be grateful for hormonal birth control and the fact that I can legally have my uterus sucked out with a man-made vacuuming device if I don’t want to be pregnant. Therefore, I am unlikely to start tracking my period with a lunar calendar (because I am currently on hormonal birth control, so my reproductive system follows whatever schedule I tell it to) or induce an abortion using herbs like parsley and pennyroyal, anytime soon. Never say never though, because I do think the whole menstrual and lunar cycles aligning thing sounds pretty cool.
This is why: I know it’s a little late in coming, but I’m really getting annoyed by all the “sick” and “weird” comments I hear when someone even dares to bring this topic up. A man had a baby. So what? This isn’t the ’80s. The concept of a transsexual is not shocking anymore. Yes, this man used to be a woman. YES, this man chose NOT to have sexual reassignment surgery, which can be risky and invasive.Â
Actually, the reason I am bringing this up is because of my mom. My dear, sweet mother who has oft shared the enthusiasm over the plight of the misunderstood transgender people with me. “Why would anyone put themselves through this unless they really felt it was true?” “They can’t help that they were born in the wrong body!”
My mom doesn’t think the man should have had a baby. Or rather, she thinks, if he did want to have a baby, he should have waited to become a man until after he did so.Â
I used to always say that I hated talking and hearing about others’ or my own dreams. And I can honestly say now that I can’t figure out why I ever felt that way.
Dreams are a significant part of my life, considering that I dream every night (once upon a time, I was shocked to learn that not everyone does – it was inconceivable to a nightly dreamer like myself). This might be weird, but I can track my past through reoccurring dreams (and I’m talking dreams here, not aspirations… you know, the fucked up stuff that happens in your head when you sleep at night).
I have one reoccuring dream that I can date back to when my biological parents (I know this is a weird phrasing… I am not adopted, it’s just that I consider my stepparents my parents as well, and I’m not sure how to make the distinction) were still together… and I was four when they split up.