The Little Prince and the Fox

It’s a month away from my birthday, my 42nd birthday. 

And my English grandmother, Grandmummy, died exactly a decade ago. 

I can still remember that day: it was a weekend day (Saturday, I think). I was living in Barcelona with my ex-partner at the time and we went out for a long walk that afternoon; he took me, or went with me, walking around the Ciutat Vella to help try and soothe me. Among other things, we stopped at a cafe/bakery that I had been eyeing for a while because I was curious to taste one of their cakes. So we finally went there that afternoon and I got the cake I had wanted to try. I can remember the fact clearly, the location & atmosphere vaguely, the cake not at all. 

Today I got my first postcard at my “new” place, at this place that has been increasingly my home since this past April, for six months now… It’s a postcard from New York City sent to me from a good, old German friend from my “Ulm days”, over a decade ago. Back then, she used to call me by my given name and use the feminine when referring to me in German (which has a very gendered/-ing grammar). But now she calls me by my chosen name and flexes the German grammar to use gender-neutral/non-binary forms that align with my gender identity.

I miss Europe (& my European friends). 

On my way back from my recent work trip in Minneapolis I did a thought experiment (Gedankenexperiment, as a “good old” physicist!) imagining myself moving back to Europe, i.e. literally packing & shipping boxes of my belongings, flying back with suitcases of my stuff to stay there. And my whole body & soul balked at the idea, at the mere thought of it. So I know that my longing for, or missing, Europe is NOT in the sense or to the extent of actually moving back there (at least, not now as long as I’m still relatively young & healthy). But I am ready and eager to go back to visit as soon as possible — I can feel that. There are places and friends that I want to see again, and see them as soon as possible. Europe & being half European is a huge part of me, not only of my identity but of my soul. A German friend once said to me (in German, of course!): “You have a German soul”. And I believe she was right about that. 

I have started re-reading Siddhartha by Hermann Hesse, a book I’ve read at least half a dozen times since the first time I read it while in Singapore, during my PhD, in August 2008. As my housemate put it, it’s become a “practice” for me, like meditation or yoga practice or some ritual. Yes, and now I need this specific book, this specific practice, this specific ritual, to help me reconnect with my deepest self, with the most authentic part of my core identity, as I navigate this phase of existential questions around my professional career, my geographic identity & longings, my needs & feelings & desires about relationships, my relationship to/with Love — maybe even my whole path & life overall.

In a month I’ll turn 42. In Douglas Adams’s hilarious & excellent sci-fi series of the Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, 42 is the “ultimate answer” to the “ultimate question”…

Will I find then some answers about my own self, my path, my life?

I just walked into Caribou Coffee in Minneapolis and saw a trans flag & a non-binary flag at the cashier register and nearly started to cry. I literally had to take a moment to catch my breath before making my order.

I’m in Minneapolis for a one-day work event, the “Future Faculty Symposium” organized by the Society of Engineering Science. So I’ve been feeling a lot of alienation since the start of my trip yesterday: the “usual” uncomfortable feelings of having to pick a binary gendered bathroom most of the time at the airports and of being misgendered; the “usual” alienating or othering feelings at the scientific event with no all-gender bathrooms in the convention center, with no pronouns on the name badges, and with a binarily gendered panel of specialists — they did include some racial diversity on the panel as well as have nearly half of the scientist panelist be women, which are great improvements, but the panelists were all from R1 institutions and the very few times gender or equity issues were brought up they were always in terms of men/women or male/female, as usual forgetting or ignoring other gender underrepresentation. 

I’m getting used to some of this at scientific/technical conferences & meetings but these uncomfortable feelings of being othered, alienated, or ignored add up and weigh on me, on us, even though sometimes they remain at the subconscious level — in fact, I am less strongly or openly upset by these situations, I’m getting used to ignoring them or letting them roll off me, trying to bring up the issues directly with the organizers and/or in surveys to hopefully make a difference for the future while not letting it affect my present too badly. But still it weighs heavy and causes a sense of alienation in me with respect to my surroundings. 

There might also be a sense of alienation coming from the city itself: maybe I’m not used to “big cities” anymore; or maybe I’ve forgotten what it’s like to be in a place where the weather doesn’t allow for patios for outdoor dining (I still feel uncomfortable eating indoors in many places); or maybe I’m not used to cities/places where it’s hard to find a quiet green spot to sit & eat or rest. 

With all of my experience living in different cities & countries, with all my moving, with all my work trips and leisure vacations abroad, I’ve learned to navigate different places and make myself at home easily and quickly almost anywhere. But I’m noticing some new difficulties within myself to navigate the world, even on days like today when I’m feeling generally confident & comfortable,  difficulties that come from presenting or being openly genderqueer.

Maybe the last straw for me today didn’t have as much to do with my gender identity as much as with my (hyper)sensitivity: walking into a bakery/cafe/diner for lunch and finding myself bombarded by the awful news of yet another war in Israel, announced on Fox News. It’s partly on me: I struggle to keep up with the news and I always feel somewhat guilty about it, so I was surprised because I wasn’t aware of the recent events in the Mid-East; but seeing it on Fox News and realizing I had just ordered my lunch in a place that streamed Fox News just felt too horrible, too jarring, too alienating to me. 

So maybe that’s why when I walked into Caribou Coffee and saw the trans & non-binary flags I felt like crying (with joy): because I finally felt like I belonged, that I was seen & accepted for the first time in 36 hours.

Today’s eight months after my gender-affirming top-surgery, a.k.a. masculinizing mastectomy. 

Today’s also four weeks after hitting rock bottom at the end of August, like sinking to the bottom of the ocean, and then starting to come back up. 

The coming back up hasn’t been easy or rosy, and in many ways I still feel disheartened or disillusioned as well as tired. 

Friends and community and rituals and nature helped me turn a corner somewhere, somehow, after hitting rock bottom four weeks ago. 

The blue “supermoon”, or super blue moon, on August 30th & 31st, enjoying it on my own on that Wednesday and then admiring it together with my housemate on the Thursday night. And embracing the pagan ritual of setting an intention to shed things, feelings, behaviors we don’t want or need, setting the intention with the full moon and then shedding with the moon’s waning over the next two weeks until the New Moon and the ensuing possibilities of renewal.

So then I celebrated the New Moon in September, enhanced by Rosh Hashanah and its rituals that I shared with one of my closest non-binary friends here who is Jewish. Among other things, I went bathing in the creek, immersed my whole body (with its beautiful boyish chest) in the refreshing running waters and then basked in the sunshine. Meditated, relaxed, and then went out dancing, to celebrate the new moon, the summer ending and the new season approaching. 

Then, this past weekend, it was the Autumn Equinox immediately followed by the Jewish High Holiday of Yom Kippur: a New Season starting not only with renewed intentions but also with a heightened understanding of myself, of my life, my patterns, my behaviors, my choices, and of Love. I asked for forgiveness where I felt I might need to, opened myself back up to the possibility of a relationship or, at least, dialogue, with someone important in my life, while also taking on my responsibilities with a new perspective that comes from a new awareness. 

These four weeks feel like they’ve been a lot of work. It’s been very intentional work. I’m still feeling extremely disillusioned about it being really useful in the long run from the practical viewpoint of functioning in this materialistic world, but it has brought me some peace. Maybe a disheartened peace, but some peace nonetheless.  

In the past months I’ve been feeling like a failure, over and over, day in and day out: I feel that I’ve failed in every aspect of my life, professional as well as personal. 

I still feel that way. And this sense of failure is sometimes so overwhelming that it is paralyzing. 

I truly do believe I have failed at everything I have tried. But at least now I know that I have had true love. And in that sense I have been more fortunate than many people. 

I had it three times, and eventually turned away from it all three times. As bell hooks wrote in her wonderful book All about love, “Not everyone can bear the weight of true love”. As she (& Erich Fromm & M. Scott Peck and many other insightful thinkers) wrote, love is not just a feeling: love is an action, a verb, a choice. In bell hooks’s (& Erich Fromm’s & M. Scott Peck’s) words: “To truly love we must learn to mix various ingredients — care, affection, recognition, respect, commitment, knowledge, and trust, as well as honest and open communication”; “Love is an act of will [… ] the will to extend one’s self for the purpose of nurturing one’s own or another’s spiritual growth”. 

Using John Welwood’s distinction between a “heart connection”, which is a type of attraction that is familiar to most of us, and a “soul connection”: “A soul connection is a resonance between two people who respond to the essential beauty of each other’s individual natures, behind their façades, and who connect on a deeper level. This type of mutual recognition provides the catalyst for a potent alchemy. It is a sacred alliance whose purpose is to help both partners discover and realize their deepest potentials. While a heart connection lets us appreciate those we love just as they are, a soul connection opens up a further dimension — seeing and loving them for who they could be, and for who we could become under their influence.”

The first time I found true love I wasn’t even nineteen and I (& he) went into it with the instinctiveness of teenagers (he was sixteen). But despite our young ages all the ingredients of true love were there, they really were there — maybe they were there, and we were able to truly love each other, precisely because we were so young and “innocent”, still dreamers, not yet too hurt or wounded or disappointed or disillusioned by life. 

The second time I was twenty-four. At that point my partner & I were a little more disillusioned but still had the hope, or will, to love. 

The third time was just this year, at forty-one. 

All three times I (we) knew it was true love and I (we) chose it. Yes, all those authors are right: the initial feeling of attraction/infatuation then transformed and led to active choices of loving. 

But each time I eventually walked, or turned, away. 

And now I don’t know what to think: should I add this to my list of failures? or should I see it as a blessing or as at least one thing that I have had, that I do know how to do despite all the trauma & brokenness in me? 

[NOTE: when I say here that I found “true love” three times I am referring to a very specific type of love, namely romantic love; but I don’t believe that’s the only type of true love that is possible. In fact, if I consider close non-romantic relationships in my life, then I think I’ve encountered platonic true love more than three times and am still finding & maintaining it in several non-romantic relationships.]

I’m feeling frustrated, maybe even a mix of sad and angry. 

I have this beautiful body and cannot share it with anyone, because of heartbreak & trauma. 

It isn’t the first time that I’ve felt this way. For several years now I’ve often felt that I’m wasting my “golden years”, wasting the best years of my life unable to share them intimately with someone because of my trauma and/or incapacity to get close or let go or let someone in. Since coming into my non-binary transmasculine self, though, I have on the one hand felt much better, happier, more aligned, more whole with & within myself; but on the other hand also more frustrated, more sad and angry, for this impossibility of sharing all this beauty — this gorgeous body, blossoming at last, that won’t be this beautiful for much longer, given my age — with someone intimate, in physical/sexual intimacy. 

Today the frustration, sadness and anger are more intense. 

Something triggered me in the physical therapy session for my hip yesterday. I’m not sure what it was exactly, but something triggered some delicate or vulnerable spot(s) in me. I felt it immediately yesterday and, in fact, I cried at the moment and felt a little discombobulated for a couple hours afterwards. Then, this morning, as I slowly woke up earlier than usual, I had two very intense and vivid but almost contradictory feelings, physical feelings: on the one hand, I longed for physical & sexual contact with my European genderqueer ex-lover, I physically yearned to feel their touch on my body; on the other, I realized I don’t want to be touched by anyone else for now. But that “not wanting to be touched” was a more intense & clear feeling than I ever remember having at a physical level: it was a physical “NO”. 

In reality, I wouldn’t mind — I would actually like — to sleep again with my non-binary friend with whom I slept in California at the beginning of June, a dear friend with whom there was also some romance a year & a half ago and with whom there still is affection & love now. I would be happy to cuddle or snuggle with them, maybe have some gentle sex with them. And I enjoy and feel nurtured by the affectionate, tight hugs I exchange with half a dozen of very close & trusted friends here (queer friends or climbing buddies, or both). 

But that’s the extent of what I want, of what I can take for now. The idea of dating, of letting anyone else close(r) in any way feels terrifying to me now, like a huge bodily “NO”. 

But this also seems like such a waste, as I want to enjoy this gorgeous body and I long for it to be seen now that it feels “right” at last… 

How do I solve this frustrating conundrum? And where are its roots? 

What are these trigger points? And what do they mean, or where do they come from?

One of my closest transmasc/non-binary friends here in Colorado just shared with me the song “Man of my dreams” by transmasculine artist Ezra Michel and it instantly became a favorite of mine — I resonate with it completely, every single line of the song feels like it’s my story, how I feel now… 

I am all of a sudden the man of my dreams (physically but not only)… and boy, it feels so wonderful!

“

All of a sudden I’m the man of my dreams

One, two, three, pick up the trash off the street

Call up my grandmother, ask how she’s doin’

Same old story but I guess she’s quit smoking

I am all of the sudden the man of my dreams

Cut all the ties to the folks who hurt me

The ones that I hurt, I’ll make amends

Picking up garbage again and again

All of a sudden I’m the man of my dreams

Water my house plants at least once a week

Some leaves fell but I asked for forgiveness

They told me it hurt but they’ll be alright

I am all of the sudden the man of my dreams

Cut all the ties to the folks who hurt me

The ones that I hurt, I’ll make amends

Picking up garbage again and again

All of a sudden I’m the man of my dreams

I’ll comfort my friends and respect boundaries

Look in your eyes and ask you on a date

I’m cookin’ you dinner, I’ll make you a plate

All of a sudden I’m the man of my dreams

No sneaky motives, no undisclosed schemes

Standing up tall while I hold space for you

I’ve got so much privilege, ain’t got much to lose

All of a sudden I’m the man of my dreams

“

It’s weird, this feeling of naming and asking for what I want. 

It’s also confusing, dizzying, and terrifying in many ways — it puts so much responsibility, so much pressure, on one, on oneself, on me. 

If I name, ask for, actually go for, what I want, then I’m (more) responsible for the outcome, for the result(s), and therefore for the possible ensuing failure(s) as well… 

I’m halfway through my postdoc and have reached the point where my advisor & I are ready to start thinking about the next project for me to work on, while I also need to think about what will happen to me professionally, and what I want to do in my professional as well as personal life, in a year from now when my postdoc position comes to an end. A week ago, my advisor told me to start thinking about what project, or topic(s), I’d like to work on next — something that had never really happened to me professionally, certainly not in academia. My first (inner) reaction was panic — impostor syndrome through the roof once again and a feeling of being totally lost in an ocean of stuff I didn’t know and didn’t even know how to handle. Once I got that sense of panic under control, I actually felt empowered (while still somewhat in disbelief). I actually had the opportunity to decide what I wanted to do with my research, with my professional path, with my daily professional life/tasks?!? My advisor actually considered me “good enough” to make my own research decision?!? Hardly believable to me… Eventually, I was able to tap into my own scientific interests and find some plausible connections to our grant/project in directions that genuinely interest me despite diverging from my advisor’s expertise. The next step was going to be communicating this to my advisor in our meeting this morning — another huge hurdle for me. Which I faced and went for. With the (to me surprising) outcome of my advisor being very enthusiastic and supportive. So, OMG, now I’m really responsible for my own professional/scientific path?! Am I really an adult “scientifically/researchwise”? 

I still don’t feel like I am…

I guess it’s also that I’m not used to standing up for myself in these ways… Saying “I want this” or “I want to do this” just seems like such a “luxury” to me… 

Too many years of repression? Too many years of having to get just my basic survival needs covered and thus no bandwidth, not even an inkling of an idea, that I might actually ask for “more”, want “more”, and even be entitled to it, have the right to “more”, maybe…?

My counselor is also encouraging me to start thinking about, and actually naming, what I want within relationships, especially romantic ones. 

It’s not the first time that a therapist, after listening to me repeat dozens of times “I should…”, “I could…”, “I can…”, “I cannot…” with respect to some relationship or other, has bluntly asked me, “OK, but what do you want?” (meaning “from this person or relationship”). 

So here’s the list of my “wants” with respect to relationships that bubbled up in me yesterday: 

I want to see my friend from Iowa again as soon as possible, and spend some relaxed, close time together like we did when she visited me as a surprise on my trip four weeks ago — maybe that could work over Fall break from school in October?

I want to see my non-binary friend with whom I slept in California in June again as soon as possible, even if that might not be feasible until sometime next year given both of our schedules and commitments. 

I want to see where this relationship with my new transfem climbing friend goes, allowing it to deepen, allowing for closeness, but prioritizing climbing with her. 

I want to find the courage to go up to a cute person, like the gay guy I saw in downtown the other day, and ask them if they want my number. 

I want to go out dancing at a queer club again as soon as possible, and in particular on Friday, Sept. 15th for the New Moon, to celebrate. 

I want to shelve this thing with my genderqueer European friend until I’m ready to pick it up again — and I want to pick it up again someday, and I know I will eventually, but I won’t force myself. I will respect my own boundaries and shelve it for now. 

I want to find and connect with people who love me the way I want/need to be loved, who respect my needs & boundaries, with whom I don’t feel forced for any reason to push my own boundaries. 

This latter wish is already fulfilled in many beautiful, joyful, stable, and mutual ways with so many wonderful (platonic) friends that I’m blessed to have and who keep showing up for me. I would like this particular wish to also be fulfilled within romantic/sexual relationships.

In our session last week, my therapist suggested I write a love letter to myself, i.e. what I would like or need to hear from a lover / loved one, what it means to me to be loved (especially in the context of romantic relationships, but not only). 

Here’s what came out of me yesterday, flow of consciousness:

“

Dear A., 

I love you. 

That means I will respect your boundaries, always, not only your physical/sexual boundaries, but also your emotional ones. 

I will respect & abide by your requests involving your needs & boundaries, even if/when I don’t fully understand them. If/when I don’t fully understand them and/or they hurt my feelings or go against my own needs/boundaries/instincts, I will let you know in a clear but gentle and loving way to try and find solutions and/or compromises together that work for both of us from a place of maturity and authenticity, avoiding manipulative behaviors/communication. Also, if/when I do/say something that I think might push/disrespect your boundaries and/or hurt you, I will acknowledge it and try to justify my behavior a priori. 

I love you, A. 

Thant means I’ll be there for you as long, or as much, as I can, and I will let you know, possibly a priori and in a non-manipulative way, when I cannot be there for you. 

I’ll be a safe place for you to come home to. I’ll let you be your wild self, let you go on your adventures, let you have time & space for yourself, and I’ll be here — your safe haven — when you come home. 

I love you, A.

That means I’ll be by your side when you need someone to lean on. I’ll be there to plan a life with you to the extent that is good and healthy and authentic to both of us. I’ll be there and go with you to your parents funeral, if that’s what you need. I’ll be there with you when you go back to Europe, if that’s what you want/need. I will hold your hand on that long flight and walking down the street. I will share my bed and my meals with you. 

I love you, A. 

That means I’ll always tell you exactly and clearly how I feel about you — what exactly “loving you” means to me, “how” or in what way I love you.  

I will tell you clearly, openly, honestly about other important people in my life and how/what I feel for them. I will introduce you to the other important people in my life, if you want to meet them (& if they feel up to it). I’ll be available and happy to meet the other important people in your life, too, if you want to share that with me. 

I will not lie to you, including “lies by omission”. I will openly share and discuss my views on relationships, friendships, polyamory, etc. with you in an adult, honest, authentic way, keeping in mind that we might have different feelings & views and also that our feelings/views might change over time and will need constant, mature, open, and honest communication. 

I love you, A. 

That means I will put effort and care into building a relationship with you, building and maintaining trust, and rebuilding it if/when it will inevitably be broken because we’re both human. I will be open and brave and kind in facing conflict together; I will brace myself for your anger and share my own emotions, too. I know that “trust” to you mainly means not being lied to, not having things (other relationships, feelings, emotions, thoughts) hidden to you or popped on you suddenly and after-the-fact. So I will put effort & care into building and maintaining this kind of trust for you. And I will make very clear to you what type of trust I need to build & feel on my end. I’ll be as clear as I can to explain my needs and fears and wishes to you in a non-manipulative way. 

I love you, A. 

That means that I will keep my word to you. And I will let you go if/when you need to go.

“

Yesterday I spent my whole Friday evening with a relatively new but also already very good friend — a friendship that started within the queer/trans community, spurred mostly/initially by our both being climbers (& very much outdoors, trad climbers), and that seems to be turning into a nice, well-rounded friendship that includes meals/drinks and a lot of deep, personal conversations during/after the climbing. We spent several hours together last Sunday, first climbing together and then going out for beer&dinner&chat afterwards. And almost six hours together last night in a similar way but this time having takeout dinner at her place, which allowed for more chill time together and more personal/intimate conversations that one cannot really have at a brewery. 

I enjoy spending time with this person, both the climbing and the conversations and the spontaneous hugs feel very comfortable with her — since the very beginning I’ve sensed the possibility of a deep friendship between us as I have with other people in my life, an instinctive liking and closeness and safety from the start. With this person I’ve also wondered a few times, first at the very beginning and now the last couple times we’ve spent together, whether she might feel some attraction towards me that goes beyond affectionate queer friendship or climbing camaraderie. 

When I brought this up to another friend of mine and to my counselor both of their comments/questions to me were, “How do you feel about her? Are you attracted to her?” 

A few months ago, after the first time I had sex with my genderqueer European friend, when I was telling one of my closest non-binary friends about it, one of their first questions to me was, “Had you ever considered having sex with them, or felt that attraction towards them, before they showed or made clear their sexual/romantic interest towards you?” 

With my genderqueer European friend, in fact, I hadn’t. I hadn’t felt or even considered/asked myself whether I felt any sexual/romantic attraction towards them until they made that step or proposal towards me. 

With this (relatively new) trans climbing friend I also never asked myself whether I felt any attraction towards her until I sensed a wish on her part to get closer or open up towards me. Her opening up or coming closer is probably only on the level of trans/queer/climbing camaraderie and due to us both being mostly the affectionate, touchy-feely, hugger type of person — or, at least, that’s how I envision it or interpret it right now. Or maybe that’s what feels comfortable to me with her, that’s what I want to have with her. Or that’s what I think I want to have with her — climbing buddies who can have dinner together and close, personal conversations, and affectionate hugs. And maybe sit hugging or snuggling on the couch while chatting — or would that be too much (for me)? 

I don’t know. And the reason it’s so hard for me to even ask myself this type of question, let alone answer it, is because most of the times I’ve been the “object” of attraction or interest rather than the “subject”, because that’s how I was socialized (as an AFAB person). I’m not talking about the random objectification from strangers here. I’m talking about situations that eventually led to some form of connection or relationship or intimacy. In my entire life, there have been only two or three situations in which I was the one explicitly taking the first step with the person that I was sexually/romantically interested in: three guys I liked & loved and with whom I made the first step very clearly and explicitly. In every other situation I’ve only “sat back” and replied “yes” or “no” in response to the other person’s showing sexual/romantic interest towards me. 

Is that why it’s been so hard, maybe even impossible, for me to find the “right” person(s) with whom to have truly lasting romantic partnerships until now? Because I haven’t really taken the time to first understand & clarify within myself and then seek out the persons that I really want or feel attracted to? 

Is the main solution to my problem of being unable to find/keep a long-lasting romantic partner the shift on my part from being a “passive object” to an “active subject”? 

Is it “just” a question of my finding out for myself, truly and honestly, what I really want in (a) romantic partnership(s) and then “going for it”?