stormdog: a woman with light skin and long brown hair that cascades over one shoulder. On her other side, she is holding a large plush shark against herself. She has pink fingernails and pink cat eye glasses (Default)
I got put together for the trans support group today, and I look ok. I'm slowly feeling more at home in my own life in ways I had no idea I could feel, and in ways I didn't even know how out of place I've felt for so long.

I'm going to get laser on my face after this move! So excited for that! I'm finally going to go to a salon or such to get my eyebrows done too. Hopefully once they're shaped, I can figure out how to maintain them.

A picture of myself, a white trans woman with long dark hair over one shoulder and rainbow earrings

It's amazing to be done with the MLIS. My therapist in Chicago, when I was talking to them once about possible career plans, told me that "the world needs more radical queer librarians." Whatever kind of work I end up doing with my MLIS, that's my goal.

That said, right now I'm still not allowed to work in Canada, so I'm going to see what kind of 100% remote jobs I might be able to find that are based in the US that I could do while I'm waiting for my residency to be approved.

On Facebook, where I posted this picture and talked about getting laser done, friends were talking a little bit about the beauty industry and the toxicity of it. I agree 100%, and I had a lot to say about it. I'll paste it here too because it's tied in to my thoughts and values regarding my body and social expectations that I've had my whole life.

---

I have so much trouble reconciling the way the beauty industry monetizes self-doubt and shame, especially self-doubt and shame in female-identified people. And through most of my life, I thought pressure to do aesthetic things to your body to conform to beauty standards was a blight on society. I'd long ago decided that there was nothing wrong with my body and I didn't need to do anything to make it different or better or more acceptable.

The same was true while I was identifying as agender. I realize in retrospect that part of deciding I was agender was, in really simple terms, a mostly unconscious belief that I'd never be an okay-looking girl. But it was also an expression of my disregard for societal expectations about my body and my belief that those expectations are tyrannical and irrational. It was simultaneously a way to incorporate aspects of femininity into my appearance while rejecting the shame I would otherwise feel if people saw me 'failing' at being feminine and feeling like I was giving the finger to standards of appearance like the kind the beauty industry pushes. If I'm not trying to look like a girl, you can't say I failed at it!

But, much like my experience many years ago with my hair, I've now finally realized that a big part of why I didn't really care about my body meeting societal expectations was that I didn't really care that much personally about how my body looked. When I was a kid, I didn't care about my hair at all. My parents would ask me what kind of haircut I wanted, and I had no idea. Then I grew it out for the first time, and realized that my hair matters to me. A lot!

Starting to present my body in feminine ways is having the same effect. I've realized that being a woman is something I can have if I want it, and suddenly my body and appearance matter more to me than I ever thought they would. Unfortunately, that's tied right into toxic beauty standards and the exploitation of the beauty industry, and I hate being a part of that.

I'm pressured into conforming for two reasons. First is the ever-present expectation that women will do certain things to conform to those standards. Second is the fear that if I don't conform to those standards, I will be seen as failing entirely at being a woman. Even more laughable to society than a trans woman who's trying to look acceptably feminine is one who claims to be a woman but rejects the ways that women typically present themselves. Portrayals of trans women intended to be degrading or humorous emphasize the ways those trans women fail to pass. I'm not brave enough to intentionally fail to pass, much as I wish I was.

And beyond *all of that*, in ways that I really don't understand, I actually truly love doing things that make me look traditionally feminine. That's something whose internal motivation might be impossible to extricate from external motivation, but it gives me such inner joy to look at myself and see femininity. I've spent a lot of my life rejecting the emotions I have about things and instead making decisions based on rationality, and I'm finally realizing that that really hasn't worked out for me so well.

Doing these things that make me feel pretty make me so deeply happy, and I'm going to embrace the happy.
stormdog: (Geek)
I'm doing an exercise in content analysis of three items. The second one was pretty great already; Wisconsin Death Trip by Michael Lesy, which I've always wanted to read. But the third one is a *fantastic* choice for teaching people how difficult subject analysis can be. They chose The Book of the SubGenius!
stormdog: (Tawas dog)
The two biggest things in my life right now? I am starting my MLIS this week. My home country is on the edge of massive violent unrest that may lead to a civil war. (This includes deadly violence and rioting in the town my family lives in.) Runner up: nigh-total social isolation due to a global pandemic. Or maybe the runner up is being in a country where I don't speak the language? Or maybe the runner up is trying to navigate a new form of gender presentation in my online meetings?

This is Fine Meme
stormdog: (floyd)
I haven't been around here in a while. It's basically because I haven't been together enough to write a lot about what's been going on.

(Having posted this, I looked at the dates. A month‽ Wow. That's probably the longest I've ever gone without posting something since I started Livejournaling. My perception of time has been a bit off for a few reasons.)

The situation here in the Netherlands has been pretty rough for both Danae and me. For her part, she has an emotionally abusive PI (Primary Investigator) on her post-doc project who has driven numerous undergrads and grad students from the project and has had an ethics investigation opened into her in the past here at UvA.

Danae has been on sick leave for a few weeks due to significant stress-related health issues and is discussing options with the department. If she is, in the end, forced to work with that PI, she is going to resign and we will move in with her parents in Canada. I'm doing my best to support here, and it's rough seeing her going through this.

Meanwhile, Danae is doing her best to support me. I have a level of anxiety and depression here that I think needs therapy to address, and that also make it hard for me to navigate an unfamiliar health system that defaults to the Dutch language. Though I don't have any responsibilities outside the house right now, feelings of enervation frequently keep me from doing the housework I ought to or want to be doing. I am managing to more-or-less keep up with having the kitchen clean and preparing meals for us in the evenings.

My lack of ability to communicate in Dutch combines with my irrational feelings of anxiety and deep fear about taking up metaphorical 'space' socially to make going out really hard. Every time I go grocery shopping, I have significant anxiety about being a nuisance to anyone I might have to communicate with because I have to ask them to speak English. In the US, I happily went out of my way to accomodate people who communicated in a way I did not and loved to be in places where I heards or saw multiple languages. When it's *me* as the one who is outside the dominant group, and especially when I think of the reputation Americans have for expecting everyone to speak English, it bothers me a lot. I know that this is irrational. There are folks who live here for *years* without learning any Dutch and get along just fine. But that doesn't keep it from bothering me.

I had been working on Dutch for a while with Duolingo, but between general depression making it hard to concentrate or feel motivation, and not knowing if we're even going to be here for very much longer, I stopped.

It's been pretty hard being so socially and physically isolated. I've never really had a lot of in person friends anyway, but here I've spent the last few months in the apartment for 24 hours a day unless I have to go shopping. I haven't been able to get myself motivated enough for bike rides or walks when sometimes it's hard to just get out of bed.

That's changed in the last couple of weeks though. Through an ex-pat group, Danae found a nearby person who is happy to let me walk their puppy a few times a week. They get free dog walking, and I get a litle time with a cute 7-month old poodle named Poesjkin. Win-win. The first time I went over to meet them, I was terrified. Literally terrified. I spent a couple hours on the couch beforehand, feeling panicky and occasionally whimpering. But I went, and it was good. Very good.

Poesjkin likes me and there's a nifty park near his people's place to walk and look at birds. I don't make it there as often as I intended to due to depression/anxiety, but I've been going a couple times a week for two weeks now and I'm pretty sure it's good for me. I'm so grateful to Danae for connecting us. She felt awful at first when she saw how scared I was, fearing that she'd pushed me into something I didn't want. In truth, whether if it was something I didn't want to do, I probalby wouldn't have been able to fight down the anxiety long enough to do it.

I'm pretty unhappy about my the state of my body. I'm doing a lot of over-eating, my go-to self-medication response. That combined with little exercise has lead to being heavier and having ankle and knee pain. My left ankle has been a little arthritic or something since a minor bike accident years ago and it's acting up with more weight. My left knee, the one I injured in my fall in Amsterdam, is being tricky when I'm carrying twenty or thirty pounds of groceries plus my own self upstairs to our apartment. It still has a circular scar-like mark and a numb spot, but at least it's functioning mostly well! As my sweetie Lisa says, it's not the age, it's the mileage.

I'm still glad to be in the Netherlands instead of the US. I'm stressed about what's going on there. No, I'm horrified. Or rather, I alternate between horror and a sort of disconnected numbness. My dad teaches high school, and is a high-risk person for Covid for a few reasons and the schools where he is in Wisconsin are planning in-person instruction. My mother would love for him to retire a few years early, but they're not sure if that's doable financially.

Meanwhile, anonymous people in unmarked cars are grabbing people off the streets in Portland, OR. People are threatening, or even using, lethal force against other people over whether they have to wear a mask. I just don't have words. I hope Biden is elected in November so we can try to turn this around. I hope it isn't too late. I hope we don't have armed conflict in the wake of whatever outcome occurrs. I am registered to vote from here and will do my little part that way, for what it's worth.

That basically covers the state of the dog up to the last week or so. Most of it is unchanged, though I've requested help from Danae to find the mental health care I need and she's doing so.

There is one last piece of major news. I may be burying the lede here, but I'm still pretty scared about telling anyone since my last school experience was pretty awful and I have a lot of stuff to get past from it still, and I'm feeling a lot of fear about telling people I'm doing anything new for fear that I'll fail and embarass myself...

But I've been accepted to my first-choice MLIS program. It is an entirely online program with Simmons University in Boston, MA. They are a highly-rated program, and I'm taking their concentration in cultural heritage management which I think is a perfect fit for my background and interests. They're giving me a small merit-based scholarship, and it looks like federal loans will cover the rest of it.

The day I got the news, I had to spend the next few hours in bed, being excited, terrified, hopeful, ashamed, determined, and bunches of other things all at once. I'm still working through a lot of those feelings too, but this has also given me some optimism for the future that I haven't felt in a long time.

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stormdog: a woman with light skin and long brown hair that cascades over one shoulder. On her other side, she is holding a large plush shark against herself. She has pink fingernails and pink cat eye glasses (Default)
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