Love's Lost & Found

by Laura

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It was 10 years ago that I first met Carol. Of course, she wasn't Carol back then, and neither was I Laura. It's funny the twists and turns my life takes sometimes. Travel 400km to a new town and job and become friends with another transsexual, only neither of you lets on about it to the other! But that's what happened. I'd admired Carol's work from afar (she did comix and fanzines, so did I) and so when I moved to the same town, I introduced myself.

We had the biggest argument ever, with Carol coming out as being lesbian and me coming out to being a woman.

We became good friends and when he came out to being a she, I wasn't a bit surprised. If only I'd admitted the same feelings myself at that time, life would be different now. But I didn't, I was still wrestling with my inner demons, still denying an essential part of my personality. But I supported Carol 100% in what she was doing, encouraged her to find herself as the new woman she was.

And then I left that town. I had a new job back in the big city where I'd lived for most of my life, and moved in to live with my then girlfriend Lee. And that was the big mistake. Up until that time, we'd barely seen anything of each other, traveling between houses at the opposite ends of a major highway, cities apart. I'd been overwhelmed by having a new job, a new home, and a girlfriend all at once. It was all "proof" that I was okay, that I didn't have to face myself.

And of course, it didn't last.

At the ending of one relationship, I entered another. Carol was now living in the big city too, and making a go of things the best way she could. I felt close to her and we shared a number of interests, and I fell in love with her. I understood her needs better than she knew. And yet, she too "validated" me as an okay guy. I must be okay if I have a girlfriend, right? Wrong.

But I loved her, and supporting her filled up the immense hold I felt to be within my soul. I didn't have to examine my feelings too closely if I looked to her.

And I loved her.

When the time came, I helped to finance her operation. We traveled to Emerald City and she went under the knife of the man himself, and then we returned back to where we'd come from. And that's when the bottom started to fall out from under us. No one had told us about the complications and post-­operative problems. And the local medical staff, much as they tried, just didn't seem up to it. The hospitals played games with her, denying bed space and thus preventing surgical correction.

And I stood by her as much as I could, but it just didn't seem enough.

She lost her faith, and almost lost her mind, with all the stress and pain that she underwent; and much as I tried to stand by her, it wasn't enough. I wrestled with her over kitchen knives when she was suicidal, visited her in psych wards and took her to films when things get too much. But it wasn't enough.

One way or another she was changing and I was changing too. In a way, the final coffin in the relationship was her meeting an old friend. She knew where Carol was at, because she'd been there herself, and I hadn't even started. As the months moved on, they grew closer and I relied on her for help and support. That is until things could no longer go on that way without cracking entirely asunder. And they did.

We had the biggest argument ever, with Carol coming out as being lesbian and me coming out to being a woman. And that was the end of the relationship. She went off with the friend, (now a lover) and I went off with my future. And it's been a long three years of being me, full of surprises and twists that wouldn't turn up in even the silliest story. But it all happened and it's me.

So if this is a love story, who's it about? Is it about Carol, and how much I loved her? Maybe, but maybe it's really about me, and something that I learned along the way. That in order to love and be loved by anyone else, I have to love myself. And that's something I didn't do when I was with either girlfriend - love myself.

Maybe, just maybe, I'm starting to now. Not an intellectual idea about who I am, but an honest self appreciation. And all those years gone when I wasn't me (or so it seemed), when I pretended to be someone else, what then? I hid, hiding the core of my being in a safe spot within me. Waiting until the time was right, waiting until I had the courage to face myself. And that time did come, and the present is the result.

And now there seem to be other loves in my life, and none of them human.

I love being a visual arts student. I find studying at university challenging and rewarding. In the process of my first year at university, I seem to have come out about myself in my artwork and other ways. And the honesty and creative use of that is appreciated. And I love creating in an artistic fashion. Next year when I follow on with Fibre Art and Video, I know that I'll enjoy it and do well. I love my car. I only bought it last February, and I love the mobility it gives me. I find that travel helps heal me - I travel to gatherings, festivals and other events; I visit friends; and as a tarot reader I travel to markets. I've given the car a name - The Kushti Rauni -­ which is gypsy for "good lady" and she's true to this. The rear windows have copies of tarot cards stuck to them. She has two bumper' stickers: Magic Happens and There is no alternative to being yourself. I find both to be true for me.

Most recently I've come to love a new pet dog. His name is Pegasus, he's a white Labrador cross and as I write a mere seven weeks old. He's still not house broken, but even with cleaning up all the poops and pees, with the effort of training and caring for him, I love him dearly. When he gets older, I'll train Pegasus to travel in the Rauni with me. We'll have adventures together.

And finally, by the time you read this, I'll be in a new house. I never thought I'd own my own house, but here I am ready to settle in the Hunter Valley, courtesy of part of my rollover fund (the rest is reserved for the opeartion), and a small mortgage. Initially I was spurred on to buy a home because Austudy wouldn't pay me. But as time went on I realised that I really needed to settle down. I looked at a lot of houses, but only this one said "live here" and. "buy me".

It'll be good for Pegasus too, in a semi-rural area and with a huge backyard he can play in. I can't explain how I know, but I know that there's going to be a lot of love for me in the new house. It'll be a home, and that's something I haven't had for a while. I'll make it one, with my own efforts and heart.

Carol and her lover visited a few weeks back. They were on a tour of the eastern states while looking for a new place to live. It was good to see them again as old friends. Somehow along the way I'd let go of her, and I only realised this when they came to visit. So it goes.

I don't think I'll be having any human loves for a while and the funny thing is that right now I don't miss them. There's too many good things going on in my life for me to worry about whether or not I have a human companion.

And maybe all these things I've mentioned, really only reflect a new love I have for myself, because they reflect me satisfying my own needs. Life's funny like that, isn't it? Kushti Bok (good fortune).

Polare is published in Australia by The Gender Centre Inc. which is funded by the Department of Community Services under the S.A.A.P. Program and supported by the N.S.W. Health Department through the AIDS and Infectious Diseases Branch. Polare provides a forum for discussion and debate on gender issues. Advertisers are advised that all advertising is their responsibility under the Trade Practices Act. Unsolicited contributions are welcome, though no guarantee is made by the Editor that they will be published, nor any discussion entered into. The editor reserves the right to edit such contributions without notification. Any submission which appears in Polare may be published on our internet site. Opinions expressed in this publication do not necessarily reflect those of the Editor, The Gender Centre Inc.I, the Department of Community Services or the N.S.W. Department of Health.