Yesterday, on my break, I overheard an older man flirting with what I perceived to be a fairly pretty woman. If this was just any man, I wouldn’t be writing about this. Given his voice and choice… More
When it comes to blogging, there may have been a time in my earlier days that consistency was actually something that mattered to me. A flow that allowed me to compose in a space with full clarity. To be honest, in loosely looking over my existence, the closest I likely ever came to that was in ranting over Live/DeadJournal about emo shit during my teens.
Lucky for me, I graduated from whining about how much life sucks to how deep the well of life and humanity truly goes. We all grow up, realizing that the “emo shit” we believed was making our entire world fall apart was nothing compared to the harsh realities of “adulting.” Those who were creators from a young age also find that the topics/themes/styles that once permeated their ideas also find they’ve become more cultivated and varied. Oftentimes, without ever realizing it until they’ve reached a level of confidence high enough to warrant looking back.
Since my text roleplaying days as a teenager, I have been a creator of sorts. A weaver of characters and, sometimes, worlds. A self-proclaimed wordsmith in my own right. This blog, in an attempt to remain relevant and active, has gone through countless evolutions over the years. Each iteration of myself claiming a fresh start or a more focused flow of consistent posts – always maintaining the “memoir” theme, but never quite pinning down a content methodology.
Well…beyond using pictures of cute 2D anime girls with glasses, that is.
As a creator, I wanted readership to matter. However, I had no clue and just tried different things in order to stay interesting. In most iterations, I didn’t give a fuck who read it. In fewer instances, this blog was private. Due to a lack of content methodology and floundering in why I blogged in the first place, Meganekko Memoirs has a LOT of shit posts in its archive which, in the spirit of this being a memoir blog, are still accessible today.
Sometime within the last year or so, I claimed Meganekko Memoirs was evolving again. Aiming to have a distinct focus on my personal transgender narrative while sharing insight and advice that may help encourage those struggling with their own transition. This was probably most fixed content methodology I’ve ever had, but that level of flow and consistency I spoke of earlier in this post and the beginning of this year still had not been established.
This troubled me greatly.
However, this post marks the first time in forever (if ever) that I’ve ever blogged three days in a row. What changed are the lenses I have been viewing my world through. Being knee-deep in Sales/Marketing drastically shifted my beliefs of having a stronger work ethic and the need to have clearer goals. I learned the hard lesson that I cannot blame outside factors for my own shortcomings. At the end of the day, I only have myself to blame for my lack of results.
I always believed I had been doing enough. However, the lack of consistency spoke for itself. So, upon exiting the sales world, I took an active approach and thought differently.
Rather than using the night hours to attempt to sum up the strength to compose as I once did, I now am capitalizing on the massive span of clarity I have always exhibited first thing in the morning. My best ideas have always come in my morning showers, but I was always too busy getting ready for work or exercising to ever act on those ideas. When I worked in the city, my best creative insights always was on the morning train. It just made sense to also offer up my morning energy to waking up earlier and taking an hour or so to make this blog relevant to my, and hopefully someone else’s existence.
I love the beauty and freedom found in weaving words and meaning together to enthrall a reader. Finally, I’m taking my goal to write more by the horns.
“Wearing glasses. Hiding secrets. Bearing truths.”
That was my tagline for a number of years. Though now, reaching this level of clarity of my own self in tandem with this blog, has guided me to a more fitting evolution.
“A [trans]formed existence through fresh lenses”
You’re welcome to join me.
Recently, I encountered a pretty female offering samples from a local yogurt shop she worked for. I was having an incredibly shitty day in the field – my attitude had crumbled under the pressure of producing the results I knew I was capable of. As the girl wandered up to me and I took another sample, I put on a smile while fighting with the more carefree side of my personality that felt the day was already unsalvageable. As she began walking away, my bolder side won and I did something completely uncharacteristic.
“Hey, sample girl!”
The short girl with long, dark black hair stopped and turn to me. The expression on her face was friendly, but hardly without a hint of apprehension.
“Yes?” she replied in a calm tone. She really did seem like a sweet, attractive female with enough social skills to be out on this crowded street making a moderate living.
Now was not the time for thinking, however. I turned on the confidence and didn’t bother putting up the usual emotional shield. The day was already shit and I had nothing more to lose by asking.
“I have a question for you,” I said slowly, making direct eye contact as I approached slowly. I’m almost certain a coy smirk ran across my lips in lieu of my bolder, carefree side handling this conversation.
“Hm?” Her face was quite nonplussed by now, but clearly she was well trained in interacting with others as I had been. She didn’t back away. Likely because I was also just another woman in sales as she was. Perhaps she too was curious as to what I had to say next. So I wasted no time getting to the point.
“Do you like girls?”
Pure indifference rolled through me as the words jumped off my tongue and into the air. I really didn’t care what happened next. The worst that could happen would be receiving a confused “no” and declaration of heterosexual preference. I wasn’t going to make a dime today, so why not accept the hinted possibility based on seconds of interacting with her that just maybe she could be a single lesbian.
Upon processing my question, she closed the gap between us, signaling she preferred a more personal exchange from here on out. “Umm, you mean like…dating girls?”
“Oh, okay. Well I’m bi actually.” I could see a hint of uncertainty on her face, but she wasn’t ashamed at all of her preferences.
“Could I..maybe take you out on a date some time?”
“Unfortunately..I’ve got a boyfriend right now,” she said cooly.
“Ohhh! Nice. That’s cool.” I said with a chuckle, attempting to play off the swirling feelings of ‘HOLY SHIT I WAS ACTUALLY RIGHT’ and ‘WELP THAT FIGURES’ careening through me. As is in line with my truer nature, I backpedaled. “I mean, I’m not looking to bother you if you’re already involved.” I was already dejected from the day, so under such negative circumstances, a relaxed countenance managed to win out.
“I don’t mind being social with other people,” she said with a smile. She shifted her weight to the hand holding her sample tray and pulled out her smartphone. “We can exchange numbers~.”
“Oh! S-Sure! My name is Nina. What’s your name?”
“My name is…”
I shared this in a narrative format because I felt there aren’t many tales of how transgender people handle approaching someone of the same gender identity. As this is the first time I’ve ever approached a perfect stranger like this, I wanted to paint a proper picture of how everything unfolded and what was going through my mind at the time. As a transwoman, having romantic interests is extremely tricky, let alone discerning the sexual preferences of females.
Female to female, it seems the best way to approach is to 1) Have a initial shared interest/interaction, 2) be confident, 3) show respect, and 4) don’t be pushy.
Funny how in my interactions with men, the majority always seem to skip #1, focus purely on #2 and forget #4. I may get into that in another post.
Those two tweets above were my only contribution to the conversation about the Orlando Pulse shootings as information flowed out over social media and news channels. As you can see from the timestamps, this was only about eight hours after the unfortunate events unfolded. So, I had no intention of engaging in the matter further as there were still uncertain, unreliable speculation floating around. The last thing I wanted was to find myself attacked over social media for being ignorant on what would be and is now known as “the worst act of terrorism on American soil since Sept 11th, 2001, and the deadliest attack on a gay target in the nation’s history” according to the New York Times.