Good Morning, Taylor

I’m sitting here waiting for the library to open so I can get my book for the book club. Before this I was at the coffee shop with a mocha and an apple danish.

They asked for my name and I said Andrea. When my order was ready, they called out Andrew.

While I enjoy my time being real, it’s a real that comes with things I have trouble dealing with when I’m confronted by them.

In the backwoods I am blonde with blue eyes. I am not here. In the Backwoods, my name is Andrea Williamson. Legally, I am not here. In the Backwoods I’m female. As much as Ragdoll has tried, I am not here.

I don’t like my reflection. It’s not me starting back. If I’m in a room with mirrors I block my view or turn out the lights. When I have to look, I repeat to myself “I am Andrea Williamson” because I know I am, even if the reflection isn’t me.

Didi once said, “your eyes are behind the ones you see in the reflection.” I hold onto that dearly. I know I’m me, here in the Brain Box.

Unlike Ragdoll, I don’t feel like I’m transgender. I guess because when I go into the Backwoods, I’m the blue eyed blonde haired girl me again. I’m more upset that others can’t get my name right than being seen as a transwoman or feeling misgendered.

But it is a reality I need to deal with if I’m going to be more active in the world. I guess if Ragdoll can deal with it for thirty years I need to as well, even if it affects me differently.

I should get on with my day. I have a few hours on my own and I should enjoy them instead of thinking about the stuff I didn’t enjoy.

–Andrea