Addendum to Are We Competing?

Reposted from my original Facebook post of Sunday past.

I don't normally post on Sunday. Today I am making an exception. I am not easily bothered by most of what I see and hear. This is one time dismissing was not an option. I wrote the post "Are We Competing?" to address what has been not inconspicuously surfacing in our community. I've detected an air of competition that is misguided and harmful. Transgenderism is not a competitive sport. There's no required timeline or any minimum deliverables or thresholds that must be met.
The girls in this group are at various stages and substages of development or they have reached a desired plateau and are enjoying their life. I don't call it transition because some don't have transition on their radar. That's their choice and oh by the way this is a free country and people have a right to choose their direction. Whatever your plan for your life, you should not have to worry about being measured or sized up. Please don't attempt to pigeonhole me or others. We are not stepping stones for others to tread upon in order to get ahead to achieve some imaginary goal at the expense of others.
Enjoy your life, free of judgmentalism.
Nikki Nicole DiCaro

The Reason For My Journey

When things go well, capitalization becomes opportunistic.  No, not the “Adding of upper case letters to words” meaning.  Capitalization as in moving something from the expense line to the asset line.  Yep, you guessed it I was trained in the science of accounting.  But that’s not important for this discussion.

When you establish relationships with people in which you are both transparent there isn’t anything to hide.  More importantly there isn’t the hint of a façade.  Facades are for hiding things or making things appear to be different than they are.

These are relationships that enable us to capitalize on what we know about people.  Don’t read this to mean ‘exploit for lopsided gain to the detriment of the other’.  It is much easier to trust those with no political agenda.  Heaven help me but I have people on my staff that play the political game so well it’s frightening.  There are whispers, secrets and smiles that hide true feelings.  I tire of that shell game quickly.  When that happens the tether on my temper slips and patience suffers.

Yes I know I can’t fire off every time something bothers me.  So don’t play hide and seek with your feelings or tell me something you think I want to hear.  Because you know the truth will surface at an inopportune time.  That makes for a heavy dose of tension that eventually pulls the façade from its support posts.  When it topples you see the truth and you’re either shocked or frustrated.  Are either of these outcomes worth the miniscule amount of time you buy with the charade?

Where are you going on this rambling road dear?

I was getting to that love; keep your panties, or whatever you wear under your outer garments, secured.

I met with a friend that I’ve known for two years.  This male was introduced by a long-time male friend, dating back to my college days.  At lunch he told me his story of being knocked to the curb several times.  He picked himself up and dusted himself off to try again.  That happened twice more and this person is still fighting and impressive as anyone I have ever known.  Life was exceptionally demanding of him and he interpreted that demand as preparing him for something wonderful.  I admire my friend for being an open book and willing to help others understand that life can be challenging but was not going to keep him from achieving.

Feeling that familiar peace and calm I said, “I’m going through some exciting and major changes in my life.”  His eyes brightened as his brow asked the unspoken question. “I’m transgender going through transition and will be the woman I was born to be full-time in early 2016.”  I didn't have to wait for his response.

“That’s wonderful, awesome, rock on!”  He used the term ‘rock on’ when he was amped up about something.  He reached across the table with a closed fist to offer the new version of a high five.

“My daughter thinks she’s a boy.”  The words stuck me like a shot to the solar plexus.  Catching my breath I repeated what he said then asked, “What do you think?”

Again no hesitation, “I love her and I want her to own it if she believes in it.” We talked for over half an hour.  He wanted my input, feedback and opinion.  I gave him a brain dump.  I know that didn’t take very long, what did we do for the next twenty-nine minutes?  Very funny!!!

He told me about a long letter of disclosure the girl wrote, carrying all the signs of gender dysphoria.  He didn’t know what that was.  He wasn’t aware of LGBT-specific resources, etc.  I offered my sincerest and full support no matter what he and his child need over time.  When I returned to the office I sent a bevy of references, resources and links.

Oh by the way when we finally went our separate ways he embraced me and said, “It’s Nikki right?  Then Nikki it is!”

At three o’clock this morning something ephemeral awakened me and drew me to the laptop on the dresser.  Opening and signing on I saw an email from my friend. It contained the full body of the letter his child had written.  Through tear-blurred eyes I absorbed every nuance and feeling.  My heart filled with love for this child and my friend and I also felt the familiar feelings that I experienced growing up. The big difference is this child articulately laid out feelings more courageously than I could have done or would have dared to do.  Opening a Word document I copied and pasted the emotional plea for help and responded with all the details I could accumulate in as succinct a manner as possible emphasizing the need to embrace this child and gain the child’s confidence.  I warned that appropriately trained professional assistance, which is readily available, should be engaged after earning the faith and respect of the boy in a girl’s box. This is a tenuous situation, the tipping point between allowing this child to properly adjust to the life intended and losing this child to a life-ending event.

I’m where I am for a reason and each day that reason comes plainly and clearly into view.  What I once viewed as a curse praying for this cup to bypass me I now see is my calling.  I am where I am at this point in life and I have the powerfully awesome, committed and loving inner circle of true and trusted soul sisters and heart friends as resources for us to support each other as we help the world to see genuine transgender people as real human beings as vulnerable and valuable as any conventional person.  We’re making a difference one life at a time and that difference reverberates like a pebble dropped in the center of a still body of water.  You never know who you will reach and how you will reach them. 

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro

Can You Say Success is Spelled S E V E N ?!?!?

Friday last found me sitting across the table at a nearby upscale restaurant from a friend of 25 years.  He had reached out to me since we hadn’t talked for a few months.  When I saw his invitation to lunch the calm of standing outside as snowflakes fell softly coating the ground with a blanket of white settled over me.  I’m going to tell him; the time is right.  Nikki has momentum and will not be refused.  I’ve learned that very quickly.  And following my heart I decided that every number, not just “seven” is my lucky number.

Settling into the chair I looked across the table and we smiled.  I could feel genuine warmth.  After catching up on life and how quickly the children have grown we talked business.  Conversation finally made its way around to personal situations.

He explained he has a nephew who is gay and he was asked to explain the situation to the grandfather since his brother, the child’s father, didn’t have the emotional strength to talk through the matter with his father.  The way my friend explained how he gently encouraged his father, the boy’s grandfather that the boy was a gift and he should be accepted and loved comforted me.

“How’s that for being open minded?”  He asked and smiled.

“That works for me.  I admire how you handled it.  So about me, I’m transgender and transitioning.  I will be full time woman in the spring of 2016.”  I watched his body language as I disclosed.  He smiled and processed.

“What do you think?”  I asked.

“What’s there to think about?  There’s nothing wrong with it.  I’m happy for you.”  I relaxed and placed disclosure number seven in the win column.  I showed him pictures and he said, “I’m glad you showed me the pictures since the next time I see you again you will be Nikki.  I would not recognize you!”  He smiled.  I gave him my new email address as he had only an old account that I had closed.  He handed me his mobile phone and asked me to enter the information.  When I handed the device to him he said, “I’ll change the name so that Nikki comes up when you call.”

After lunch ended we walked out of the restaurant together and embraced as true friends do.  He told me it was my turn to contact him about getting together and to not let so much time pass before we do this again.  I promised.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro

I add the following to ensure that I am not Polly Anna.  I am pushing the limits but doing so deliberately and slowly.

Life is fragile... life can also be cruel. There's no reason to be blinded by overly optimistic expectations. The other side of the fulcrum is that guarded optimism should not be overshadowed by failure to find your calling. I am saddened by every attack, every death, every negative statement. We must help each other and not be afraid to express who we are. If we do, we permit others to control our destiny. Unfortunately progress does have fall out.  Harken back to the settlers of the new frontier of the western United States – no progress without risk. I'll spare you all the fancy clichés. Be vigilant, be diligent but above all be yourself. 

Arriving at Femininity

Sitting around nursing myself back to health after struggling all week with the manifestations of a cold.  I don’t do “sick” well.  I’m sure most of us don’t like operating at less than one hundred percent.

So where are you going with this honey?

I’m preparing to recall recent conversations among friends about warning signs in failed relationships.  No, not warning signs of physical illness, unless you consider inability to refrain from ejecting previously consumed nourishment as something that raises more than an eyebrow.

Few things bug me more than when I’m reminded of something.

Are you saying that if someone reminds you of something that bothers you?

As usual, your diligence preempts my completing a thought.

I’ve enjoyed many relationships.  Unfortunately, with the exception of two experiences, every post-divorce relationship ended within ninety days of inauguration.  I don’t share this searching for sympathy nor am I proud of repeated failures.

So what caused the relationships to fizzle?

There seemed to be a penchant to repeat and repeat and repeat.  Some might use a less glamorous vernacular.  I’ve chosen not to do that. I will say that words like “I’m not trying to tell you what to do” followed by “but” and then telling me whatever it was that the person insisted on pounding relentlessly into my overfull brain, caused me to end whatever it was that was germinating.

Did all of these ruminations teach you anything, dear?

Calling me dear is not endearing, pun intended.  I’ll move past that to help you understand what I learned.  I learned not to harp on something.  If the person to whom I’m talking decides not to absorb what I’m offering I move to the next topic.  Repetition is great if you are a thespian or are practicing the Palmer method of handwriting.  But in everyday fast-paced life there isn’t enough bandwidth to play a statement, rewind and push play, repeat, repeat and so on and so forth.

Maybe I’m delirious from the medication but sometimes a thought glues itself to the walls of my mind and refuses to release until I convert the thought to the written word.  I’m sure we all have things that trouble us.  Writing them down, journalizing them, clears my slate and permits moving on. 

All of this is not intended to place blame or to dismiss my femininity.  I would have arrived here regardless of previous relationship failures.  I’m here now and enjoy a fulfilling life complete with a wonderful relationship with a loving and uber understanding woman.   We all get to the tipping point by various modes and roads. I’d be interested in knowing what delivered you to this point in your journey.

Have a thoughtful and rewarding day.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro 

Are We Competing?

I don’t understand why some in our community need to feel they are competing with others in the community.  Why must some in the community feel the only way to get ahead is to put others down? 

Try this phrase on for size: “We are all different in many, mostly wonderful, ways. I’m better than nobody and nobody is better than me.”  I live by these words.  There is nothing useful, enduring and endearing to be gained by making others feel small, gaining at the expense of others.

I had a troubling conversation with a person I thought was a friend; someone who identified as a transgender.  I provided, on many occasions, precious time out of my horrendously busy schedule to talk when it was convenient for this person.  I’m not here to tell you how busy or how important I am.  I’m here to tell you how disappointing it is to be used, to be compared and to be told by this person that there was something this person (I refuse to guesstimate on the appropriate pronoun to use) had over me.

Really?  Like we were competing.  This person stated “I’m falling behind the competition but need to catch up.  But I have one thing going for me, I have [purposely left blank] more than you.”  After that statement I turned off my hearing until I was able to tamp down the temper flare.

Competition, seriously?  Competition, really?  I don't compare and contrast beyond trying to find ways to improve how I fit into society as a woman.  Different transgenders are on different points on the continuum.  That’s their business.  Encouragement is my mantra.  I will support and encourage when the opportunity presents itself.  I refuse to engage in conversation that is destructive.  If you attack one of my friends; then the gloves come off.  I have no compunction about stepping into the breach when necessary.  That’s the way I roll.

So, back to this miscreant and the immature comment.  My perception of this person has changed significantly.  The more I think about the comment the more I am disappointed that I was misled, I fell for a façade that fooled me.

When people are relegated to getting ahead at the expense of others – putting others down – they need to get a life.  Comparisons are for wannabes. Real people are confident and self-assured and kind to others.

Be free to be yourself and build up others and they will return the favor.

Love and hug, Nikki DiCaro 

Keeping a Promise

Keeping a promise sometimes carries a degree of discomfort.  I experienced such discomfort today when I made good on a promise to my staff.  The gist of the matter turned on the challenge I made.  If they raised a threshold dollar amount of support for one of the causes our company supports I would wear a tutu to the office.  The money raise far exceeded the threshold leading some on the winning side thinking they didn’t ask enough of me as the payoff.

Until late yesterday I thought everyone forgot about the challenge.  Some of my staff was sanguine about me reneging.  That’s not how I roll.  If I didn’t fulfill my end of the bargain there was no way I could ever task the team to raise the support on the wings of a reward, regardless of how outlandish.

I learned that respect flows freely when you payoff.  Only half of the staff was in attendance but not one thought the display anything but human and innocent.  The minor and temporary embarrassment I experienced paled in comparison to the trust and respect I earned.

I would definitely do it again if my actions, within the limits of decency, spawned the team to rally for something worthwhile.

“What's your point Nikki?”

Your word is your bond.  Don’t promise if you can’t or won’t follow through.  And you need to be internally strong enough to withstand the crosswinds that may buffet whatever initial shock factor accompanies your delivery.

Live strong is more than a slogan relegated to those who wear yellow.  Those words are a call to action.  Building the strength to support a fulfilling life takes effort.  Some people might label it a heavy lift.  I guess that depends on the condition of your intestinal fortitude.  Do you have what it takes to carry on; to move along life’s road without falling prey to every sinkhole and bramble bush you encounter?

No, your journey will not be free of perils.  You make no progress crashing through open doors.  You know that and I know it from personal experience.  It’s not the problem that defines you; it’s how you handle the problem.  I know you’re picking up what I’m laying down.  Your ability to break down barriers will earn you kudos, respect and probably the benefit of the doubt to be utilized later.  Some refer to it as a ‘get out of jail free card’, ‘a chit’ or ‘a favor that can be called when needed most’.

Live on and live strong.  If you need the path defined, look to those who have set the pace, provided the example.  They are like the North Star, always there even on cloudy nights.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro

The Music of Life

Instrumental music moves me.  I don’t need words to pull feelings from the shallows below the surface of my psyche.  The depth of conviction by the string section heightens the emotion that wells up inside.  The brass and reed sections tame the threat of showers – counterbalancing the pull with push and gradual blending until all sections are harmonizing the emotional continuum.

Why do I raise musical intonations in today’s post?  Isn’t rhythm part of everyday life?  You don’t have to experience an orchestra to feel the staccato, crescendo, fortissimo, etc. of life’s calls and answers.

You feel the situational draw of every instance that engages you.  Senses awaken.  You absorb and are either nonplussed or moved with each extreme having degrees of engagement or disengagement.

As I participate in meetings I imagine each attendee plays a different instrument.  There’s the loud and expressive (the brass), the soft quiet one (the reed), the consensus builder (the guitar), the leader of each segment of the conversation (the conductor).  And this goes on until I’ve tagged each person. The beauty of remembering this routine allows me to know what to expect from each participant prior to the kickoff.

“What’s that got to do with anything?”

Glad you asked.  Life delivers interesting possibilities; how interesting depends upon the extent of your imagination.  Do you exercise the psychological muscles to keep them supple?  If not I believe you will enjoy benefit if you did.  Find a way to engage productively and effectively.  It’s easy to hear things out of tune, off key and garishly askew.  That’s your decision.  But should you be unable to extract feelings, value, encouragement, etc. from a gathering, why participate?

It’s a fair question to consider.  You owe it to yourself to make the most of every waking moment.  They cannot be recaptured, reserved or stored.  Spend them wisely to build your worth and support nurturing growth to which you are entitled.

The decision is yours.  Remember that regret brings nothing positive and will waste precious time pining away and yearning for bygone times.  Today is yours.  Tomorrow is promised to nobody but you can place your reservation by your actions today.

Have a wonderful day.

Love and hugs, Nikki DiCaro