Penny's Story

A cute little drummer living her dream.

Archive for November 20, 2008


Today is the day the Transgender Day of Remembrance.

I never know how to deal with the TDOR. Should I be proud? Should I be scared? Should I just mark the day as a sort of “Memorial Day for Transfolk?”

I usually end up just sort of using the day for introspection. It impresses me how far the world has come, there was a time when the government and the will of the people would have been for people like me to be put to death simply for being transgender. And yet, there are still places in the world where this is exactly what happens. So, I guess I feel blessed to live in such a place where I can live my life as I choose. And yet, even here there are people who will hate me just for the very fact that I exist. So, I guess I know that there is still work to do even in as progressive a place as this.

I remain perplexed by people; I just don’t understand hurting someone for being different.

Today I will remember those poor souls who have been killed because they are different in the same way that I am; and I will remember that there are still people out there that will hate me; and I will remember that I live in magical and beautiful world where people love and cherish me; and I will remember that there is still work to do so that all transpeople can live in such a world; and I will remember all the amazing people working hard to make that world a reality; and I will remember all the people that hate transpeople and hope that they find peace and love and acceptance in their hearts; and I will remember that life offers no guarantee that we will even wake up tomorrow.

So I will cherish every experience as if it were my first and my last; I will live proudly and unabashedly; and I will love those around me with reckless abandon.

Please remember…

Betty’s Daughter

My mom and I went out for breakfast today; we went to this neat little place where my mom and my step-dad are regulars. My mom and I sat at a table, and the waitress called over: “Betty, coffee?” My mom said that she’d have a Diet Coke. Then the waitress said: “Betty’s daughter, coffee?” I said that I would just have water.

And gradually the conversation, no matter how brief it was, sank in.

“Betty’s daughter.”

I am Betty’s daughter.

In the last few weeks I’ve been having all these triggers that have been making me think about how far I’ve come; it’s been extremely gratifying to be able to absorb my journey at this point; I was just talking about the tagline of my blog this evening: “Just a cute little drummer living her dream.” It gradually sinks in just how damn appropriate that really is.

Being my mom’s daughter is just sort of the latest in a long line of really cool, subtle and profound examples of how amazing everything seems to have become.

“Betty’s daughter” indeed!


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