I am aware of something like a geometric progression and necessity of becoming — my original plans of slow emergence into an embodied Joyce are feeling increasingly plodding and unnecessary. Community and laughter and belonging are needed. For what would a transsexual on a transitional journey be like with only her raw, disembodied thoughts of a solitary blogger, separated from the society she inhabits–her colleagues, neighbors, students, and family?

Cold, that’s what she would be. Cold and lonely.