A sense of okayness

Hello dear reader. How are you?

Ah, a moment to try and calm the firework show of thoughts. Too try and get something down on the page. Deep breath, Lynn… 🧘‍♀️

Time

Today, the Ever Lovely Mrs J and I took a day off to shorten the week. Mrs J’s holiday year runs differently to mine, as it seems to go with organisations.

So, we’re enjoying another four day week and we’ve been out for a walk in the park and a spot of brunch. Sitting in the shade, enjoying a coffee, and taking time to watch the world go by. No need to rush between virtual meetings or have our eye on the clock. Truly a luxury in turning one’s back to the call from the Cult of Busy.

And now, having rambled through that memory, my brain has stilled sightly.

Mind: then & next

On Saturday, I’ve got an appointment with a not-so-local GP* to see if I can get a referral and investigation into my ADHD concerns.

( * For overseas readers, GP as in General Practitioner or doctor. For old school Nottingham folk, the croaker 😉 ).

I say concerns, but, well like being trans, I feel this quote fits:

We are where we are, however we got here. What matters is where we go next.

Isaac Marion

To be flippant for a moment: being trans is easy, it’s living with it that’s hard. 😉

Learning about who I am and finding that the traditional two options for gender where not for me was distressing. Finding that the stereotypical cishet, white, boy meets girl view of the world is not for you is jaring.

Readers who are LGBTQ, people of colour, petite/plus size, alternative cultures, et al are free to jump in with “Uh-huh, Lynn. Tell me about it,” and throw in a knowing look to camera.

It’s a realisation – or it was for me, at least – that you’re going to have to find your own way. The well worn paths of my parents and peers back in the day, they were not wrong. Just different and not for me. So, you just have to wing it. Sometimes alone, and sometimes – if you’re lucky – sometimes with others like you.

So, if there’s a point to this, I guess it’s both about finding your tribe if you can. But it’s also knowing that you’re not alone in gender nonconformity or neurodiversity either.

Looking and listening to folk who’ve been there before or who are on their way through it now; that shared experience; that sense of community, and indeed validation: well, I believe it normalises things and helps you understand. Not just how to cope, but maybe even live, possibly thrive.

On that note, recently released research found that relating to another person’s situation and help them feel card for and validated.

Fingers crossed for Saturday, eh? 🤞

Chams

Thursday night was quite busy for the group and we had around fifteen or so people visit. A few new faces, some returning recent members, and regulars.

Having picked up on an idea from Isobel’s blog, I had thought about asking folk to say who they were and to share some good news. But, everyone was busy chatting to each other, enjoying tea & treats, I felt it would’ve broken the vibe. Something for next time or if conversation stalls perhaps.

In a spot of good news, we’ve seen a number of younger people attend. There’s nothing wrong with having an older average to the group. It’s that being able to support people of any age feels good and I think hating from people across the generations is good for all of us.

Oh, talking of good news, an irregular regular popped in to say hello. I’ll spare their name and blushes. They said that they’d been incredibly grateful of the support and confidence the group had given them, which I felt was incredibly kind of them to say. Then, they donated generously to help keep the group going, bless them. The extra monies will help keep costs low, but those kinds words are why Chams exists. We’re here for each other, to listen, and help if we can. 💜

Head stuff

The warmer weather, blue skies, shorter weeks, and vibrant greenery has helped keep my mood positive.

With the possible ADHD thing, that feels like an answer to a puzzle. Not “you are this”, but more there’s a pattern of behaviours and you’re not broken, it’s just how you are. That’s been…. freeing. Like moving away from the old binary of transvestite / transsexual, and finding the stories and words of the community. Looking at the word Trans as an umbrella term and reflecting on the different ways a person might experience things. Right now, I’d happily stand by the term genderfluid because that seems to work for me. Maybe something will replace it in time, but now, that’ll do, Pig. 😉

Me stuff

Looping back to Thursday stuff – and what’s the opposite to there’s something rotten in the state of Denmark? 🤔 Denmark’s on fleek? 🤪

-Ahem- Yes, things were okay upstairs in the old Jones brainbox. IMHO, the sense of okayness is not to be overlooked, but enjoyed and remembered. Remembered should the proverbial clouds draw in or the Dysphoria Goblins pop round to give one’s confidence a shoeing over or a spray from the Imposter Phenomenon perfume bottle. Okay, that’s enough metaphor torture and run riot imagination for today 😁

A good sign that Things Are Okay was the packing process in the morning and getting changed in the evening. While the old pins may be mostly fuzzy, hiding them under turned up jeans in Bloke Mode helps. So to has switching over to Big Girl pants courtesy of Snag. They may not be magical, but they’re doing the trick.

Likewise with a careful application of Dove’s summer glow moisturiser to dispel the Nordic white of one’s upper arms. Emphasis on the careful. I believe the aim is to be less Chas, but not Morph either 😉 Under 30s folk may need to Google this or ask a senior 😉

I made a slight flub of my eye makeup on the night, but so it goes. I had not quite got my false eyelash glue right. In an attempt to mask it a little using an eyeliner pen, I felt it didn’t quite work out, giving a thicker band than I’m used to. I didn’t dare risk a flick.

Lessons Learned: Do not attempt a new look on a fancy occasion without testing beforehand. 🦉

I think maybe it’s a hooded eye thing. The gap between your lashes and your visible lid needs space and a wider band of liner swallows that space up. Still, lessons learned and I will know not to try that next time.

On a comedy note, I nearly fell over later on and that’s despite being in Birkies. Yes, despite road testing some wedges I found in the cupboard midweek, I opted for the ‘stocks. I am 50, wear skinnies, and I’m digging the comfort of sliders: so sue me 🤪

Despite all that, I felt quite chuffed with my outfit and Val was kind enough to provide photographic assistance at the end of the evening (thanks Mrs! 💜).

I did have a slight issue removing the sparkly gold polish on my fingers. You’d think I’d have learned after all these years. But, it’s seems optimism sometimes trumps experience… Well, until evidence gets it’s troos on and points out of the obvious 😁 Still, all sorted.

L x