accept. embrace. live.

You randomly meet a Mom in the food line at Great Country Farms, a Mom who just moved here and knows no one, has a couple kids around your kids' age, and she's really friendly. You run into her a few times over the course of the day, and each time the two of you chat. Her baby keeps giving you huge smiles, which causes her to smile and say how much he likes you. By the fourth and final time you bump into each other, you feel that you've chatted enough to feel that it wouldn't be inappropriate to try and make a friend. So, for the first time, you get your courage up and offer that if she ever needs to get out, away from the kids and hubby, for a drink or a chat or whatever, to shoot you an email. She gladly accepts your email address and thanks you. She and her husband both smile and wave as you part. You feel like you've accomplished something by taking one small, tentative step towards putting yourself out there.

Then a week goes by without an email. You were really hoping you'd hear from her, because she seemed like a cool person, and you're yearning for just one friend... one friend who doesn't "know." You don't know if you've not heard because you are trans and she was just being polite. Maybe when you cooed at the baby, you were clocked. After all, your voice just doesn't go as high as other women's voices do when cooing at babies. Maybe her husband clocked you and filled her in. Maybe your child yelled "Daddy" at you within her earshot. Maybe you committed a faux pas by offering your email address, and in fact, women don't do this in such situations. Maybe she Googled your name and something trans-related came up. Of course, it could be for a million other reasons. They could be busy. It's busy when one has a 7-month old and a 5-year old. She could have lost the scrap of paper with your email address. Or maybe she was just being polite and it has nothing to do with your history. Maybe a week is too short of a period in which to lose patience and/or faith. It's early yet.

Problem is, though, you don't know if they were just being polite to the transsexual person. You'll never know. You'll never know if you don't present as well as you think. The realization that this is what the rest of your life is going to be like is pretty damn depressing. As much as you know that things could be far, far worse, you get tired of the mantra. As you are typing this blog entry, the little number next to your Inbox changes from 228 to 229. Huh, maybe her ears were burning. *Click*. Nope. There's a sale at Ann Taylor. Ann doesn't know or care if you're transsexual. Now *her*, you hear from quite often.

But!

Not only is it a little early yet to lose faith over someone not sending an email, it's early yet in the context of the rest of my life. Of course I would like to hear from her, and if I didn't, it would be frustrating not knowing. This is only the first time I've put myself out there like this, and it's not easy. It will get easier over time, and at some point, I'll get an email from someone. Perhaps it's a bit of overly-dramatic hyperbole (is there any other kind?) to say "the rest of my life will be like this." It probably won't. It does feel that way sometimes, though.