March 31, 1996
I can't even imagine what still allows me to open my heart after all the kicking around
it has had. Maybe it is because I'm finally sending the bad feelings back to the source,
rather than just absorbing them. Every time I walk through the door at Screenplay Systems
I get angry, and it doesn't go away until I leave. I've actually come to hate Chris. I
loved him as a brother for so long. He really hasn't changed, but I can hardly stand to be
in a room with him now. And I feel so much better by hating him. I like the emotion. Over
the years I've never allowed myself to feel hate. I would just make a logical decision not
to be involved with someone, but wouldn't carry a grudge. Well, I'm not going to try and
hurt him in any way (unless he tries to hurt me again) but I really hate him, and that's
quite fine!
I almost feel like armor or scales or bullet proof clothes are just falling off me. I
feel free. And yet, there is no clear sense of direction. No clear joy. I think that is
going to happen slowly, not as an object but a process. Each day I find myself able to
give up that which hurts me, even if it has positive aspects as well. I don't mind flaws,
but I do mind having to pay costs because I am attacked.
It is one thing for me to accept a situation with a price to pay, but quite another
when someone tries to exact a price in exchange for their favors.
April 11, 1997
A letter to Mr. W. Squared:
I must write you to apologize for the way I have treated you over the last couple of
weeks. Although there are many reason for this, none of them can excuse the cruel and
insensitive things I said to you.
Over the last month, I have been struggling with the boys at Screenplay Systems. I have
been forced to resign as manager, quit my job, gotten into shouting and crying matches
with my former friends, and seen the potential development of future products I have
dreamed about evaporate.
I have felt cheated, abandoned, and betrayed. This has taken an incredible emotional
toll on me. I have had to address many deep-seated emotional issues that cut right to the
heart of me. And in the middle of all this stress and strain, I felt pressure from you:
Pressure to initiate conversations, pressure to spend time, pressure to journey out to
Florida, pressure to open my house to you. Actually, all of these things were quite
ordinary requests. And I believe had you known how raw and frayed and afraid I was at the
time, you would have never have even brought them up.
But I am a good actress, and work very hard to keep all that to myself so I can
continue to be the shining beacon of hope and inspiration the public has come to know and
love. Of course, I'm being sarcastic at my expense, but that is how I deal with personal
issues.
Also, though I had hoped and actually believed that such things as shopping for wigs
and makeup would not bother me, apparently all the suffering I went through during
transition has still left many raw spots. Going out on those outings with you brought it
all back to me in spades.
But, being the kind of person I am, I did not address these issues for what they were,
as I did not want to offend, and also I wanted to be supportive. But, I'm sorry to say,
I'm human. The pressure built up so much that I finally couldn't hold it any more and I
simply snapped. I exploded. I let it all out at once.
For this, I am truly sorry.
I did not mean to hurt you. You are a sensitive soul with much to do and a long journey
ahead. But at the time I snapped, I wanted nothing more than to hurt you deeply so I would
not be alone in my pain. And, I'm afraid I did my job too well.
I am writing this letter to try and undo any pain I may have caused you. I can't take
it back, but perhaps I can put it in a different context that will help heal the wounds
and lessen the hurt.
My life has not been an easy one, but I can live better if I don't make it harder on
myself. I still have a lot of learning to do about how to relate to people and when and
how to express my feelings in a way that keeps me free from angst yet does not harm others
in the process. I can already feel a deeper understanding of these things, and hope,
through it, you will forgive me for any harm I may have done to you.
Melanie
Author's Note: The next day
after I sent the above letter, I received a truly gracious note from Mr. W. Squared. He
thanked me for my honesty and apologized for his insensitivity. He put forth the hand of
friendship and I accepted.
Over the next few weeks, he renewed his offer to invest in my
company, Heart Corps. I wanted to do some soft of deal, but couldn't decide on how much of
the company I was willing to give up in exchange for his funding. A couple of weeks
dragged on.
Then, an envelope arrived, Federal Express. Inside was a check from
Mr. W. Squared in the range of five figures, with a note instructing me to use it any way
I wanted, and just let him know when I figured out how much of the company I wanted him to
have in exchange for the investment!
It should be publicly noted that much of what is available on my web
site today, would not have been possible without his generosity. It should also be noted
that, as of this writing, Mr. W. Squared has changed his name to Jenni and been living
full-time in the new role. She is scheduled for Sex Reassignment Surgery in just over a
month.
April 12, 1996
Things have gone back and forth with Screenplay Systems at a dizzying pace the last
couple of weeks. There have been meetings, phone calls, and an endless flow of email in
both directions.
At times, I have felt that Chris and Steve were truly my friends, and had nothing but
my best interests at heart. Then, in half a breath something is said that makes me feel as
if they are my mortal enemies, out to take me for everything they can get. At this point,
I really don't know. I actually have no idea at all how they feel about me.
How do I feel about them? As if I must protect myself from them because I can't be sure
of their intentions. I've been financially and emotionally raped by the men I've worked
for too many times in the past to risk ever letting it happen again. The sad thing is, I'm
beginning to feel that it is not those specific men, but all men in general from which one
must protect oneself.
At first I considered that if I had a history of trouble with men in business, well
then perhaps there was only one common factor: me. Maybe it was MY fault through some lack
of understanding or some character flaw that caused me to be unreasonable.
I tried that on for a while to see how it fit. It didn't. The more I considered it, the
more I settled into the conclusion that all of these troubles I have experienced are due
to mental sex differences - that I am talking a language men can't understand, and they
are looking at things from a perspective I can't see.
So, I tried describing this concept to Chris and Steve, and even to my son, Keith (who
is almost 17). They heard me talking, but I didn't come through. They understood my words,
but none of them actually believed there could be a way of looking at things they were
incapable of seeing.
It is almost as if their belief in objective reality is so strong, that it cannot
accept that there is any view of the world that is not common to us all. In other words,
there is only one way to look at things: their way, and if women don't see it, well that's
just because they are "unreasonable", or "all messed up with
hormones", or "being childish", or being "self-centered and
gratuitous".
Isn't that amazing? Men will read these very words and understand everything I am
saying, and STILL not be able to accept it. Oh, they will accept that I (and all women)
think differently than they do. But they will simply feel that is because we are unable to
think "properly" or "clearly" or "reasonably", and therefore
discount whatever conclusions we come to that don't agree with theirs.
Oh, I understood all this in a theoretical sense for some time. And, I was well aware
of the comment that "men don't take women seriously", and had even run into it
before. But I always chalked it up to lack of communication or miscommunication. I never
realized that it was due to the fact that men are quite incapable of ever appreciating the
true reality we see, while I am just as sure that there is something they are seeing that
we cannot possibly perceive.
That is the horror and the beauty of it. The difference is, that as part of what men
can't see comes the inability to accept there is something they can't see. What we will
never see is pure and true logic without the "taint" of emotion.
Everything has an emotion attached to it for women, though you've probably never
thought about it. Think about it now. Look at any object in the room. Does it not have a
definite emotion attached to it? Do you not feel something very specific for it?
This doesn't happen for men. Oh, they will have this thing and that thing that hold
emotional meaning for them, but not everything. In fact, I must go so far as to say that
their feelings are not even the same as ours. "Love" doesn't mean the same
thing, "joy" doesn't mean the same thing - oh, the definitions are the same, the
logical explanation of those feelings is the same for both species, but the way those
things actually "feel" is completely different.
Men have feelings, but they are not our feelings. Their feelings are ham-handed and
blunt, unsophisticated and crude. To be fair, our efforts to dabble in completely
unemotional logic must appear to them the same way. Even if we speak completely logically
about something, then we turn around and put it in an emotional context, rather than
leaving it at that.
Look at this entire article.... Does it seem logical? Sure. It has a premise and
follows a series of related connections arguing toward a specific conclusion. But, how
will it read to men? As meandering, inefficient, and tangential to the point. Why? Because
it is laden with emotion. Each point I have made is not merely a strategic element in an
overall contention, but is literally dripping with attitude.
Can women ever leave the attitude or mood behind and stick to the case? Sure! I did
that for five years at Screenplay Systems where I worked with Chris and Steve. And let me
tell you it was hell. Everything I wrote there was required to be devoid of my feelings,
and as such, it got the information across, but left me feeling as if I had said nothing,
for I had not expressed myself.
When I wrote the first draft of A New
Theory of Story, it carried so much heart that it really made me feel I had expressed
what I wanted my readers to get. But by the time it actually got to print, I had been
required to re-write time and time again, until all emotional aspects had been thoroughly
and completely removed. By the time I completed the most recent version, I had learned how
to do it myself. What a tragedy! I got the job done, but even though I wrote 95% of the
text myself, it doesn't feel at all like I wanted it to. Oh, I'm sure men are reading it
in awe. Well, who the hell cares!
Don't get me wrong... I'm not putting down my readers. I'm just frustrated as blazes
that I wasn't allowed to speak to the other half of the world in a language that would be
more meaningful to them because it carried feelings with it. But, of course, that is NOT
the way to write an informational text. If women were just more "reasonable"
they would take the time to learn the language of logic so that they could understand the
book in the male perspective as easily as men do. Yeah, right!
Well, I began this piece by talking about how things have seesawed in my relationship
with the guys at the company. And I went on to say that I have come to believe the problems I am
having are not my fault, nor their fault, but symptoms of the very real differences in two
completely exclusive mental operating systems.
So what happened? Well, Chris and I sent letters back and forth. Every time I thought
we had finally agreed on something, he would turn around and say something that clear as
day indicated he was saying one thing but had completely different intentions. Only
problem is, he didn't really have different intentions. He was just blind to the
"other" message attached to his words - the message in the female language.
Of course, I am also "blind" to his view as well, because from his view, my
concerns are completely unfounded and unreasonable. But how can I ever see that view when
my concerns are so real and important to me.
I'm in these contract negotiations telling them I felt "unappreciated" and
"unloved" and wanted to discuss my future life plan to see how the contract
might affect it. They were telling me that the contract was simply a deal for rights to
certain aspects of the theory. Well, duh! But what about the emotional impact? Why even do
a contract if not to make your life a happier experience? To gain power, control, and
money, of course! But what good are those? What do you want them for? Isn't it better to
create an agreement that engenders a pleasant, fulfilling, and productive partnership?
What does that have to do with anything? Be reasonable!
Shit.
It got to the point the other day that I felt we were finally on track! We were
actually communicating for the first time since this whole negotiation started. I told
Mary and Mindi how happy I was that things were working out so well. Then, I got a call
from Steve. I said, "Hi, Steve!" with great enthusiasm, as I figured Chris had
shown him my letters and he was calling to express his happiness that we were coming
together.
Steve told me he wanted to meet right away. I responded that I would be happy to, since
I was so pleased with the way things were going. He said, "Really? I have the exact
opposite feeling about it."
Man, I was taken aback. He went on to say that both he and Chris felt things had
completely degenerated to the point that we all needed to get together to talk over our
points of view and try to resolve these problems.
Well, there you have it: The very same data was available to us all. The two men had a
very negative interpretation, and I had the most positive of interpretations. Who was
wrong? Bad question!
The point is that when looking at the very same things, we are looking FOR very
different things. We are so focused by our own mind's operating system that we can't even
see what is so important to the other. Oh, we can see what they are looking at, but we
can't conceive of why they care about it. "Why would he do THAT?" "What was
she thinking?"
Well, I'm tired. I'm tired of being expected to speak their language and kowtow to
their great idol "Logic". Logic isn't all it's cracked up to be, and quite
honestly, I think it sucks. Only if it is couched in feeling to give it context and
meaning does it have any value at all. By itself, it's just a worthless waste of time.
I'm tired of being made to feel like I'm stupid or incapable unless I pretend to see it
their way. I'm tired of being talked down to and made to feel like a child because I am an
emotional creature.
My God! So many women have bought into it, been conditioned in it, that they teach
their daughters and students to play the same game. That's no better than those few Jews
who worked with their captors in prison camps to guard other Jews. It's like crossing a
picket line, ratting on your buddies, or selling out your country.
We have our own country, you know. It doesn't have borders and it doesn't take up
space. It takes up mind. We are sovereign there, but get no diplomatic recognition from
the space-hoarders.
We're really short-changed insofar as our country lies in a different dimension right
smack dab in the middle of their land. We are viewed as citizens of their dominion and
expected to obey their laws which mean nothing to us... nothing!
Look around! When did we get the vote? Less than seventy-five years ago! Are we not
still objects to be bought and sold in many parts of the world? What good does it do us
when they perform female circumcision against our will, devote miniscule funds to our
medical needs, create a system that makes us an extreme minority in government, portray us
in their image on television shows for our young?
Oh, we're being raped all right. Every moment of every day. For men, to know us is to
rape us, because the way they think of us - the only way they CAN think of us - is
intrinsically abhorrent to our sensibilities.
The only sad thing is, we need them. There are times when only the logical thing must
be done and any emotion would destroy the impact. So we must put up with all these things,
and the wars, and the insensitivities, because without this smug breed, the "real
world" would open its jaws and swallow us.
What a bitch.
April 27, 1996 4:58 AM
This may be my last diary entry. I've grown really tired of it. Now that I am away from
the company for so long, my motivations are unwinding. I'm no longer stuck in a
system which supports my angst as an energy source. So, with the force that molded me each
day into a replica of what I was the day before now gone from my life, the facade begins
to crumble, the roots spring out, and the form shifts.
As I look back over my motivations for starting this diary in the first place, they
were never really for doing good in the world, or even for simply expressing myself to
myself, or even creating a journal to share with others. No, I always wrote for posterity.
That seems to be the driving obsession in everything I have ever done.
I started my first diary in 1962, and was at least honest enough in that missive to
actually state that I was doing it "for future generations". I was never trying
to document my time or work out my feelings. In truth, I was waving my feelings like a
flag: projecting them on the big screen so that they might attract more than their fair
share of attention.
My heroes were people like Benjamin Franklin, Leonardo Da Vinci, and more recently,
Hildegarde Von Bingen. I looked to these people as role models - examples of who I should
be, how I should be.
I wanted my place in history. I wanted a name that conjured up the same degree of
reverence and awe as "Einstein". And you know the worst part? I think I've
achieved that goal. I've created the Story Theory, Mental Relativity, founded the Transgender
Community Forum on America Online, changed my sex, stayed married and kept my family
together, made myself so female-looking that no one ever suspects I was once male. And
why? Just to show I could.
I am absolutely sure that years after I am dead, my name will live on, and people will
look back at my life and say, 'What an incredibly creative, insightful, inspired,
empathetic individual." But you know, what am I going to care: I'll be dead!
We might speculate why I've been so obsessed with this approach to life, and clearly I
have been obsessed. One career after another, one more crazy hare-brained scheme - from
movie making to running a business to creating new theories to publishing a cyberzine -
all of these have been propelled by my desire to make a place for myself in history. And
why? Because I didn't think I could be accepted in my own time. No, that's wrong... I
didn't feel I could be accepted.
I could go 'round in circles chasing my tail trying to figure out why I felt that way.
No matter. I did. I don't anymore.
Since I've left the company where I needed that angst to keep going, I've unwound a bit.
I"ve had more time to sit and think about the people around me, the people I know. As
I look back, I see so many wonderful opportunities for friendship and closeness, and I
didn't even know they were there. I've bounded from one crackpot endeavor to the next,
striving for the brass ring, never noticing the golden rings all around my feet.
Well, no more.
No matter how much I create, how much I discover, how much time I sit in front of this
damnable computer, I will never find what I am looking for. And what is that? Enjoyable
time spent with others. Funny, isn't it? The most fleeting of things turns out to be the
goal of one who has spent half a lifetime trying to produce the most lasting of things.
You know, today may be the first entry I've ever made in this journal in which I am
truly expressing my thoughts just for me - just because I want to get a grip on them and
see how they work together. Oh, I always got that benefit from my earlier writings, but it
was not the focus nor the drive. Always foremost in my mind was the notion that if I
documented my thoughts, I would someday be held in esteem. And, of course, I also got my
head together along the way, but back to my place in history.... And so it went.
I saw this movie, "Greed" on television today. It was about an old man who
had millions and also had a slew of greedy relatives. He wanted to leave his money to one
of them, but only if he found one who truly loved him. The ending didn't quite work
because it didn't sum up the issue they had been getting at for the whole thing. If they
had, it would have really tied it into a grand statement. Still, the message wasn't lost
on me, as it struck me right where I am changing. The message was, "If there is
something special or different about you, you can't expect people not to be affected by
it, BUT they might also love you at the same time."
I thought I would never fit in because people would find out who I was inside and not
like me anymore. And now I've had surgery and run around thinking I'll never fit in when
people find out who I am outside, and not accept me any more. As silly as it seems, I
never considered that they might find me different and still like me.; that they might
find my past unusual and still let me fit in.
Oh, I've come up with all these grand phrases like, "You have to be different to
fit in; there's only one space for each kind of shape, and to make the world complete, you
have to fill yours." That captures the logic of it, but not the emotion. Emotionally,
I kept going binary: should I deny my past and just be a woman? Would I do better if I
became a flag-waving, card-carrying transsexual? The blind spot in all of this is that
neither of those things have ANYTHING to do with whether or not people will like me.
Well, that's not exactly true either. For closed-minded people, it has everything to do
with it. And, for people I don't know (like the swarming masses) it has a really big
impact regardless of whether or not they are open-minded, since they don't really know me.
But for those close to me, it has nothing to do with it. It is in addition to it, not part
of it.
And that is what happened in the movie. The young nephew who thought he wasn't driven
by money, found himself starting to lie, cheat, and steal in order to get the inheritance.
And, he went through all this angst trying to deny that the money had anything to do with
his newfound closeness to his uncle. He kept running into his own greed, however, and had
to bury it because he couldn't kill it. So he rationalized, and justified, and ended up
realizing it really was only the money that drove him. And that's when he found out his
uncle had lost his fortune and was broke.
He left in a fit of anger because his uncle had been lying to him, manipulating him to
gain his favor. But then, after he'd been away from the situation for a while, he found
that he still loved his uncle. In fact, he realized he had always loved him, underneath
all the very real greed. So, he went back and brought his uncle home with him to live. And
that's when he found out his uncle had really not lost his fortune, and was just trying to
see who loved him.
Well, the nephew was furious for being manipulated again. But then, he decided the love
was more important and made up. Now, here is where the movie blew it for me... They really
needed the uncle to vocalize the lesson learned for the nephew: "It's not whether you
are greedy or have love, but rather, if you are greedy and also love."
For years, I've stayed away from gender people in person, because I couldn't bring
myself to associate with such weird people. (Imaging that!) Of late, several gender folk
have found their way to my door. And you know what? Some of them I like, and some I don't.
And, of course, I realize this is the way others see me as well. There are no weird people
because of their situations - just weird situations. And in those situations, there are
people you like and people you don't.
It is right to judge a person by their situation until you get to know them. Then you
just them by who they are, not what they are. So, if you see someone odd in a crowd, go
ahead, hate them, laugh at them inside, pass all the judgment you want. But if you meet
them, see them for who they are, not instead of how you saw them before, but in addition.
It hurts when you stand out in the crowd. If I looked like a guy in drag, I don't know
what I'd do. Oh, yes I do! I'd go back to being a man! Right now, I know I could act the
way I feel as a man like I never could before. Can you imagine the Elephant Man as a high
fashion male model? Maybe yes, maybe no. You need context to make that work. If the way
you are inside is incompatible with the way you are outside, you WILL be laughed at and
ridiculed if you act as you feel. The only way out is to create a greater context so you
can be seen as special in order to throw your unusual traits into a different light. And,
I guess that is what I was trying to do. What I didn't realize was that I didn't really
have any unusual traits.
As a man, I could have expressed virtually all that I am today and had no one bat an
eye. But I felt that I was so "soft" inside, so "unmanly" that I had
to become a woman to express those feelings outwardly. Bullshit! (pardon). My kind and
caring and sensitive heart wouldn't have caused a ripple in the back of anyone's mind. I
just magnified it all out of proportion.
And now, as I sit here watching the sky turn from deep purple to slate gray, I find
myself stuck with these boobs, this long hair, this genitalia, and the practiced
motivation to NOW feel as if I can't show my masculine side! And the funny part of all is
that in either role I fit in so well that I didn't have to create the damned context!
So, all of that stuff for posterity, all the work, the pain, and commitment... all so
that I could express who I really am and have it accepted in context, well, it was all
unnecessary. I could have just been myself and not changed sex. I could have been myself
and not worked so hard with such obsession. I could have just lived.
Which brings us back to this potential last diary entry.
From here on out, if I pen words like this, it's going to be because I want to say
them, not because I think they will increase my stature. BUT, I'm also going to keep in
mind that I can't help being aware that these words WILL increase my stature. The real
question is, am I doing this for one or the other, or both? Both works. Both is honest.
Heck, with all the writing I've done already, it would be really stupid to throw it all
away. At least right now. I have this nagging feeling I should pull all my material down
from the world wide web, burn my diaries, and get out of the public eye. That would be the
best for my "self". But, there is also the public me, the one who is judged by
society without knowing me. I guess I can't yet make my feelings about context go away,
even though I am now aware of them.
Just as the nephew came to accept that he really WAS greedy, but also loved, so I must
accept that I really do crave attention and acclaim, yet I am also content with who I am.
The two are contradictory, but not incompatible, for the human mind is quite capable of
holding two or more views at a time when it comes to the emotions.
The logical side of us is binary, and as such provides but a single point of view. The
emotional side of us is holistic and can have any number of opposing or tangential pulls.
So, I am pulled to the limelight, and pulled to anonymity. I am pulled to place my life in
context, and pulled to live it truthfully and without apology.
I believe the real lesson here is that you don't have to decide between these alternate
poles. Emotions approach the binary when one is considering how one feels about the
greatest of attractions and the greatest of repulsions, but they will never actually
become binary. They can't. Logic approaches the analog when one considers an issue in
great detail as deeply as the mind can fathom, but it will never actually become analog.
It can't.
Therefore, which issues are best looked at with logic, and which by feeling?
Consequences are best looked at through logic, goals through feelings. Survival through
logic, fulfillment through feeling. People's reactions to you through logic, people's
responses to you through feeling.
So, what are the consequences of being public - no logical concerns that come to mind.
Then, being public is not best seen as a consequence, but a goal. Now, what are my
emotional goals with being public? Can't think of any. I guess this means that I shouldn't
even be worrying about it one way or the other. If I start to get feedback that my
writings and high-profile nature are causing problems or opening doors, then I'll make the
appropriate mid-course corrections to cut back or push harder.
What about those items that are so intense (like standing on a street corner yelling
out that you are Jewish in Nazi Germany) that there is no time for a mid-course correction
and you really need to anticipate in advance. In that case, the consequences and goals
make themselves known in your anticipations. To be a consequence, it must trigger a
logistic concern. To be a goal, it must trigger an emotional one.
If one has an emotional assessment of consequence, then one is justifying. If one is
having a logistic goal, then one is justifying. And that, of course is just what I have
been doing. For a woman, this is true. Also, for a woman, goals are inside and
consequences are outside. So, don't look for external goals or internal consequences.
Which means, I don't see any external consequences for being public, but I feel their
potential, which is a justification. I don't have any internal goals with being public,
but I see their logistic potential, which is another justification.
To know which way to be pulled, I must look externally for consequence and internally
for goal. What I find is that there is nothing to be seeing when looking with those parts
in those directions. So, being public should no longer be a concern at all. Instead, I
should write if I want to or not as I choose. I should do it because, in and of itself,
writing brings me pleasure. And, let the public result of it, both now and in the future,
be damned.
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