—

I’d like to say I’m a square peg in a round hole, but I’ve come to realize that I’m more of a triangle in the world of circles and squares.

I see the world differently than most; I always have, with my opinions frequently being characterized as coming from “out of left field.” Not that I’m complaining; I just try to see the world from different viewpoints, through different eyes, and synthesize that into my own unique perspective.

Certainly I see the good and the bad, but I try to focus on the good, on the positive. What we have in common, instead of what separates us. I try to see what the future can be, the possibilities in life. Like all people, I have my doubts from time to time, but that doubt, that little voice of what can go wrong, is what tends to prevent us from doing amazing things. And while I might not do amazing things, that won’t stop me from making the attempt.

But first, let me talk a little bit about that troublesome triangle.

You see, I am transgender. In world of gender binaries, I found myself wanting the world of one, whilst firmly planted in the other. It took me a lifetime to see that. I denied who I was; I hid who I was, always fearing someone would find out my deepest, darkest secret. For the longest time I thought there was something wrong me. Profoundly wrong with me. That I was broken. That I was a freak.

But one day, about two years ago, I saw my life in a way that I could not unsee. If you’ve ever seen All That Jazz, I had a moment of clarity. Like the final stage of Dr. Kübler-Ross’s five stages of death and dying, I finally accepted who I am. Like Davis Newman, the stand-up comedian, I stood in my living room, looked at the ceiling and shouted, “I accept!”

The catalyst? Realizing that this is who I’ve been since I was eight years old. In an epiphanic moment, I realized this wasn’t a phase or a bad habit I was going to quit some day. It was, it is, who I am. And that led me on a journey that I could not deny, I could not hide, not any longer.

To be honest, those first few months were the scariest of my life. Sure I accepted who I am, but would others? Would they think I’m broken, a freak? But to my surprise when I came out in what I like to dub my coming out tour, a majority of my friends embraced my decision, showing more support and love than I ever thought possible. And let me tell you, that’s an amazing feeling. After a lifetime of shame over who I was, the hiding, the secrets, the fear, I finally got to be me.

And while I had taken the first step, the road ahead was still not an easy one. And I don’t just mean the stares, the whispers, the outright contempt a trans woman can periodically experience out in the world. But staying true to myself. To maintain the authenticity of who I am. Not to become a caricature of a woman, not to adopt a persona, but to allow what I had kept locked away inside of me for so long to grow naturally, authentically.

It’s been almost two years since I said the words, “I accept,” and I’ve never been happier. It taught me that sometimes the hardest decisions are the ones we need to make. And while I do know what road I’m on, I don’t know exactly where it will lead or which exit I might take. But let me tell you, I’ve passed a lot more exits than I ever thought possible. Sometimes the journey is more important than the destination, as long as you enjoy the ride.

Many of my friends have called me brave. I don’t think that’s the right word. I think I finally stopped being a coward. Finally stopped being afraid.

All in all, being a triangle ain’t so bad.

The post Musings of an Impossible Girl: A Triangle in a World of Circles and Squares first appeared on Typing Monkeys.

—

I am obsessed with Doctor Who.

There I said it.

To put it mildly, I’ve seen every single episode of Doctor Who in chronological order. For the initiated, that’s over 825 episodes, spanning more than 50 years, and includes 97 lost episodes, 97 lost episodes that have been faithfully recreated by fans using the original audio, tele-snaps, found footage and, if I’m not mistaken, a bit of string.

So when I say I’m obsessed with Doctor Who, that might be a bit of an understatement.

I was first introduced to the good Doctor back in 1973. I was fortunate enough to grow up in Philadelphia, meaning I was privy to one of the first airings of Doctor Who in the United States. So unlike most of my contemporaries who first encountered “that guy with a scarf”, my first Doctor was the sartorially resplendent Jon Pertwee (or Jan Pertwee as the Philadelphia Inquirer so joyously announced) But more than just the Doctor, I was introduced to the brilliant Roger Delgado as the Master, the delightful Katy Manning as Jo Grant, and the legendary Nicholas Courtney as the Brigadier (“Five rounds rapid!”). But it was Jo Grant who struck me at a young age. At first a clumsy companion berated by the Doctor, she eventually blossomed into the hero of The Daemons, literally saving the Doctor’s life (spoilers!). A heroic woman in the ’70s. How cool was that?

The 10th anniversary special, The Three Doctors, however, was what turned my passing enjoyment into a lifelong obsession. It was in that serial where I learned that TWO other actors had played the eponymous role before my beloved Jan Pertwee, courtesy of something called regeneration. At that moment, a sacred quest was placed in front of me. A bucket list item for my future self. To watch every episode of Doctor Who in chronological order. A quixotic quest to be sure for I was oblivious that the BBC had lost, at that point, over 150 episodes of the series, wiped, erased and junked due to shortsighted bureaucratic policies.

Back in those halcyon days, I assumed Doctor Who was simply a rollicking good British adventure series. But looking back, I realize there were deeper currents at work.

While now I am openly transgender, back then I hid my inner desires, fueled by my shame over my inner self. I was supposed to be a boy, struggling with wanting to be a girl, even at the tender age of eight. But the Doctor, he reveled in his differentness. He was a hero. And better yet, as a Time Lord, he regenerated. New body, new personality, but still the same person. How I yearned to experience my own regeneration, hoping my new body would match the person I was inside.

And as the show has grown, so have I. Its message of inclusion inspires me, it’s embracing of possibilities clearly strikes a chord. And for me, and I understand not everyone agrees, but for me, the Steven Moffat era has been one mind-blowing epiphany after another.

Matt Smith as the Eleventh Doctor was a revelation. Eleventh Hour, especially. The hyperactivity. The mind working faster than his mouth. The utter insanity. My kids stared at the television screen in astonishment. A madman with a box. That was me. Of course the intervening years make it more likely that I am a madwoman with a box, but that phrasing, I fear, be dragons.

And then there was Impossible Girl. Oswin Oswald in the far future, Clara Oswin Oswald in the Victorian past, and finally Clara Oswald in the present, someone who shouldn’t exist, but does. These episodes aired while I was accepting who I was, who I am, when my transition became inevitable. And a life I thought impossible since age eight, was now reality. I was Impossible Girl, a concept, I joyfully embraced.

Not only has the series featured a transgender actor, but it also proved that gender is not what defines us. Take the wonderful villain Missy who proved that Time Lords can regenerate into Time Ladies. Yup, my favorite villain from the 1970s has now become my favorite villain of the 21st century. The Master has become the Mistress, and I finally regenerated into the person I am today. Still me, but different. And to mix fandoms, 20% cooler.

Doctor Who is about possibilities, all possibilities. And that message is one I not only embrace, but embody in mind, body, time and space.

The post Diary of a Time Girl: My Doctor Who Obsession Explained first appeared on Typing Monkeys.

—

Charles Foster Kane printed his declaration of principles on the front page of the New York Daily Inquirer. I don’t feel the need to be so dramatic, but I would like to share with you why I founded Possible Girls.

Like most things in life, we start with a story. And with secrets.

I grew up with two secrets. The first was that I stuttered. The second was that I was transgender. The stuttering I learned to hide, the gender dysphoria I simply denied. That was a box I never was going to open.

So speaking fluently and accepting who I was, living as who I was, that was impossible. Quite literally as impossible for me as living on the moon.

But fast forward to today and I now have full fluency. So much so that no one can shut me up. Seriously. Don’t even try. And not only have I accepted that I’m transgender, but I’ve been living as a trans woman coming on two years, living that life that was so impossible not so long ago and waking up every morning with a lopsided grin, thankful for all the people in my life who have so openly and warmly accepted me for who I am.

Hence my nickname, Impossible Girl.

I share this because one night not long ago, I awoke not with a lopsided grin but with an inspiring thought. So achingly clear, I had to pace around my apartment in the middle of the night and ponder the possibilities, lest I lose the idea by morning. The next few hours I brainstormed as I do on my crêpe-papered A Beautiful Mind wall, and when the sun arose, I knew I had hit upon something.

Possible Girls.

A site dedicated to what is possible. For women and trans women. For geeks and nerds and fangirls of all ages, all backgrounds. About endless possibilities in life and in the worlds of fiction that bind so many of us together.

But it’s also about being relentlessly positive and finding the joy in life and in our obsessions. Viewing the glass half full and understanding that we are all unique and special and capable of amazing things. For as long as we believe in ourselves, nothing is impossible. Take it from someone who experienced that epiphany in a Dr.-Kübler-Rossian moment of clarity, seeing life in a way that simply could not be unseen.

TL:DR: A site about inspiring and, hopefully, empowering women and transwomen. Showing what is possible, one inspirational story at a time: women and trans women directors, writers, artists, doctors, scientists, teachers, and mentors. Together making a difference in the world, one girl at time. Because in the end, we are all possible girls.

A quixotic quest perhaps, but one most definitely worth pursuing.

—

Quixotic was, perhaps, more accurate than I had intended, as this project got back-burnered due to lack of time, money and, well, life.

The post Why Possible Girls first appeared on Typing Monkeys.