A New View

When you speak from the heart, words move freely. They channel from visions in your mind down through your nerve endings and into the muscles that control our fingertips. Our fingertips either find a pen, pencil, marker, or other writing implement. In this day and age, and with the ease of technology, I choose the computer screen as my instrument for sharing my thoughts, words, and other musings.

I could have been "Tiffany", if I were born with a vagina. But, I was blessed with a weiner. Well, I use the term blessed loosely. Being male is neither a blessing nor a curse. I am forever grateful I don't have a menstrual cycle. The sight of blood, my blood, even the slightest, makes me queasy. Yet, oddly enough, I draw blood as part of my job. Stabbing and jabbing complete strangers doesn't seem to bother me at all. Provided their blood stays in the test tube and doesn't mistakenly pool to the surface.

It is a curse, but only slightly, that I wasn't born Tiffany. I'll never know the joy of childbirth, or how weird it feels to experience my body changing as a seed grows into a baby within me. I'm male. All male. I have a penis, and that's that. No pregnancy, no morning sickness, no stretch marks. Oh wait, I DO have those.

I believe I have more feminine characteristics than masculine. My testosterone levels must not be high enough. I still get mistaken for a woman on the phone, at times, and half the time in the drive-thru at the fast food joint. Puberty hasn't quite hit me, and I'm 33. I have stretch marks, though not through pregnancy, but to look at my naked body, you would think I had. I have child-bearing hips and large thighs. Still, I have a male organ. And I like it that way. I do not desire to be a female, yet so many of my traits are characteristically so.

I'm emotional. What macho man would write such a musing, really? Then again, what is macho? I'm on antidepressants, for reasons, I'm not quite sure. I know why Zoloft is key in my life, I'm just not quite sure why I'm depressed. Any sob story or family reunion on Oprah will get me to cry along with these people. Perfect strangers to me, yet oddly familiar. The story. We all share a similar story, as humans. But I don't come from a broken home. My parents are still together after all these years. And everyone seems to accept me for who I am. If they only knew. Still, why do I appear to be unhappy? Am I unhappy?

Just today, I was talking with my partner, the love of my life, about the meaning of life and the idea there's no "great beyond". Once we're gone, that's it. No afterlife. No heaven. No hell. What we do now, won't matter a hundred years from now. Or will it? What will we each do, in our own way, to be remembered? To make our imprint in our world, our culture, and our community. The Egyptians worked their asses off, and thousands of years later, historians are still mystified by their lives. I want to walk like an Egyptian. I want to have a life others marvel over. Not in the way of money or material goods, but in some deeply moving emotional or spiritual way. Like Mother Teresa, only non-religious.

I love who I love.

I'm not religious, but spiritual.

I believe in big things and making a difference.

I'm here now, and plan to be.

I want to live life, not to just exist through it.

I'm creative and smart.

I love to write.

So, why can't I do what needs to be done to make an impression, not just in my life, and the lives of those around me? But to society as a whole. I want people to remember me like DaVinci or Princess Di. I want to be known for something.

Mind to nerve, nerve to muscle, muscle to finger. I will write. I will stand out and be known for doing my best and giving my all to be known for something. Just what, I'm not sure yet. But as I type these words on this Friday night, I know that someone, somewhere, at some point in time, will feel deeply moved by my musings. Maybe it will be just another human with nothing better to do than to browse through other peoples' writings. All it takes is one person to make a difference in another person's life. Are you that person? I know I will be...to someone.