At the end of an extended period of longing, it would be nice to finally belong, but it seems to me the odds are quite slim. I hold out hope for legitimacy and membership and belonging, but I feel relegated to sit on the sidelines or out on the back porch or over in the ghetto where my desires for identity can be acknowledged as authentic, but never have to be accepted or acted upon.

Where am I from? Nowhere.

And that’s where we who are true to ourselves retire, rocking on the porch, self satisfied with that formal feeling that comes after great pain, but never self actualized. Othered, we wave to each other and nod knowingly in our gated community, seeing way over there the shining city on the hill where belonging takes place. Out here on the perimeter, there are no stars. Here, we long but do not belong.

In the March issue of Denver’s community magazine 5280, meet a local family that is raising a little girl born in the wrong body:

It’s a thoughtful, balanced, and well-researched piece, which is more than I can say for this piece of hurtful trash, also from the Denver community press, the GayZette Denver (reported on at Lynn Conway’s website):

Just when I think I have it tough, I read remarkable stories like these. She’s so strong and courageous at her early age — and I’m so fearful and cowardly and late-to-the-party that it’s hard to imagine we belong to the same gender spectrum.

Good Morning America did a segment about Megan Wallent, the Microsoft executive who recently transitioned from male to female. The comments on the story are pretty harsh, as is the commentary on the story by Newsbuster’s website, among others.

I myself am reminded of how blessed I am to have friends and family who are supportive, but I’m also curious, in light of these nasty letters and similar ones trashing Susan Stanton a year ago, whether my choices reveal me to be as egocentric and monstrous as the letter writers believe Wallent and Stanton to be.

It’s hard to know what my friends and family think about my transsexual transition — maybe they’re being polite by not asking questions, or maybe they’re really busy with their own lives, or maybe they simply don’t care. Whatever the reason, I feel as if I get very little sense of how others process my situation. Mind you, I’m getting lots of support and love and trust, and I’m not wondering what people think about me per se — what I’m curious about is how they themselves feel in light of my change. I hope they’re all writing furiously about how they feel as they watch a family member or friend change, but I cannot be sure.

An exception is my friend Ellen, who blogged her reaction to my disclosure over on The Bilerico Project. She regrets not having figured out my transgendered nature and wonders what signs she missed.