I’ve reached middle age. It’s neat to have this on my blog, where I documented turning 21, turning 30, and now 40.
At the start of my thirties, I was living with four lovely roommates while working in tech and lobbying for trans rights in Parliament. I didn’t know it yet, but I was also incredibly insecure, felt stunted by my fear of the unknown, and employed toxic communication patterns to soothe difficult feelings.
That all came to a head when I dated a an anarcho-queer teen librarian. They had lived in multiple cities, owned a car, enjoyed camping, went on solo adventures abroad, had fingers on cool new lit, were a vegan cook with a green thumb, and on and on. I felt so deficient in comparison, made worse by being hypersensitive to rejection that I perceived (seeked out) in mundane exchanges. Instead of working on myself, I made it their problem. The relationship didn’t last.
Its end became the fire I needed to start a two-fold journey: one to challenge my discomfort and become the person I had wanted to be, but the other to appreciate who I already was. I had always brought a lot to the table, that wasn’t the issue – it was my insecurity and the abusive ways in which it surfaced.
Months after that breakup I moved back into my own place in Centretown. After that:
- I learned to drive manual and got my first car.
- I then bought a Jeep, joined a club, and learned how to do off-roading. I also learned how to change a tire, replace air filters, add mounts, and take off the doors. Made some pals too!
- I got a road bike from my bff and learned to do basic maintenance: replace inner tubes and tires, clean the chain, adjust brakes. I also got a mountain bike and went on trails.
- I went on adventures! I drove across Canada and got stuck on a mountain. I experienced the midnight sun in the Yukon. I went to the edge of the Grand Canyon. I tagged along a second line parade in New Orleans. I paid my respects in the trans district of San Fransisco. I ate toutons in Newfoundland. I went to Christmas markets in Berlin and Vienna. I dove in a submarine in the Maldives. I was stuck in a violent protest in Barcelona. I went solo backcountry camping in Algonquin Park. I kayaked in the Baskagong Reservoir. I admired the northern lights and a solar eclipse. I hiked up Eze in the French Riviera. I applauded cast members at a film festival in Rouyn-Noranda. Add to that trips to Tennessee, New Zealand, Australia, Ireland, Portugal, Spain, Czechia and Austria.
- I gave multiple hobbies a shot, like whitewater kayaking, bouldering, flying a drone, sim racing, and target practice.
- I made a mini-museum of trans history at home. I also amassed a typewriter, coffee gear and oil lantern collection.
- I switched from being minimalist to making my home its own cozy escape. My aesthetic blends old with new.
- I got bottom surgery and laser eye surgery.
- I acquired my first and second tattoo.
- I released a radio play, created a programming language, wrote a few zines and countless investigative essays.
- I got a job at a green energy Silicon Valley startup and rose up to staff engineer.
But more importantly, I continued therapy, dated more people, and by the end of the decade, attained a healthy level of self-esteem.
In my evolution, I ditched passive aggressive communication for the direct talk I had so long feared. I ceased subjecting others to constant tests for rejection. I nipped this self-defeating conflict resolution tactic to make others feel the pain I thought they had inflicted. I set aside resentments around those who had more in favour of appreciating what I had. I came to uphold more personal boundaries, sometimes at the cost of relationships, and learned to live without closure. I made peace with the permanent effects of the physical abuse I experienced. I internalized that I could be loved at any weight. I got less worried about being considered an inconvenience. There’s always going up be stuff to work on, of course, but what a change.
I also got more picky about who I chose to be around. I had been drawn to friends and dates who, like me, were in a more emotionally volatile life stage. Turmoil inevitably ensued, especially in queer circles where there was significant trauma but also a lot of using trauma to excuse abuse. As I’ve matured, I’m able to better discern who should be at arm’s length.
Looking forward, there’s some unknowns. I gave up on my dream of having kids ending my ten year journey with the fertility clinic. That upended my vision of what my forties would be like.
I have feelings about not ever having a family of my own, about how being alone in this way also makes home ownership amidst a doubling of prices – and financial security in old age – out of reach. Yet these same circumstances avail me to go on adventures, and that I have. Here’s a snapshot of the last few years:
Loved ones are alive and well. How lucky I am to say that at this age, and I hope I can say the same in ten years.
As for the rest of the world, beyond the pandemic that killed a million Americans, the only thing to note for the last decade was the explosion of nationalist groups and the ensuing neo-nationalist capture of the White House, Downing Street, and the minds of many Canadians. This has resulted in a proliferation of transphobic views that has diminished my safety in public spaces. This is also, however, background noise to my day-to-day.
I don’t know what’s ahead for me or the world. Whatever happens, I’ll report back when I’m fifty!