Halle Visits The Boy - conclusion

(continued from part 2) 
There are theories in physics that suggest that we live in a multidimensional universe.  Imagine being able to see these universes multiplying every time we make a choice. Even the most basic of choices divide our life path in some way, sometimes in very major ways. In chaos theory it is called the ‘butterfly effect’.

In dreamtime, moving back along the visible trace that has been my life path, I see branches, hundreds at a time, thin as silk, coming in from different directions, and like a squirrel, I am moving down the branches of some sort of gossamer tree toward the ground.

At the point where I am about age eleven, I see a new branch has developed where one was never seen before. As though a force field exists, I am forbidden from following along that new branch or any branch that is not my life path. It must be that those branches hold a new me, where I went after the last encounter with my future self. It appears I will never know what became of that dear child whose life I touched in dreams.

Heading back upward toward the present, I see a place where the branching is slightly heavier (they are all heavy, but this is even more complex). Looking in, it becomes obvious this is the time at the end of high school. Here was the time when in my personal path, I resolved to become a ‘real man’, put away all of those childish fantasies and get on with life. It was the start of the great denial.

Moving down just a bit, I joined a dream the young man was having… then again, maybe a nightmare because where the boy had made a pristine high-rise with a view to die for, here was a dark warehouse.

One bare light bulb allowed me to see dozens of men who I knew at that time. Each of them seemed to be in the process of rehearsing lines; repeating the same words and gestures over and over. Most were clones of family members and friends from school who I had admired. Strangest of all, the fictional alien, Mr Spock from Startrek, was standing and looking about him in his very unemotional way.

Huddled in a corner was a child; no, not a child but an emaciated young woman who looked very much as the boy had looked. Her curly blond hair was a mess. As she looked up, it was obvious she recognized me, but she just sat there, staring at me, or maybe she was looking past me because behind me I heard a young man’s voice ask, “who are you?”

“You don’t recognize me?” I said as I ‘shape-shifted’ into my current façade and turned to face my younger self.

“Well, you look a bit like my grandfather who died last year.”

Dad’s father had been incapacitated by a stroke when I was five. I had never had a conversation with him, but yes, as a man of almost sixty, I guess my appearance is quite amazingly like his at that age. “You are getting warm." Moving closer I put my hand out to him and thought, 'here we go'. "I am you, or at least one of the many possible versions of you that inhabit the future. Think of me as a ‘future ghost’ if you like.”

“Man, that is so cool. What a great dream this is. You are just in time; maybe you can help me to sort things out here.”

“Quite an interesting collection of personalities you keep here, isn’t it.” It was a bit eerie the way all of those actors wondered about like zombies. “So, remind me, because it has been a while for me, what are they all about, from your point of view?” I already had a pretty good idea what he might say as these were members of the same tired cast that got put out of work when my new façade was getting built.

“Well, like everyone, I need to be able to handle any situation that comes up, you know, and act the way I should when stuff is happening.”

“So you think everyone has this sort of collection, eh” He nodded his 'yes' as I continued. “Maybe you could give me an example? What is Mr. Spock doing here?”

He looked pretty sheepish, then firmed up and almost blurted “Well, he is here because I get way too emotional sometimes and I’m afraid people will think I am a girl or something, so Mr. Spock is the most controlled personality I can draw on to help me act naturally.”

I almost snickered but then remembered that this was me, and that was what I honestly worried about at that time. “Act naturally? You think being like a fictional alien is better than being yourself when you start to get emotional?”

“Sure, it's way better.” He paused, reflected a bit, then continued. “So, you know how my plan to reinvent ourselves is going to work out. What should I do to improve it?”

Remembering what had happened and it's consequences, a plan started to form that might help turn this young man’s ship at least a few degrees off of collision course. “Hmm, maybe you could answer one more question first, O.K?”

He nodded.

“I’ve been looking around and I cannot help but wonder, because I know we have a pretty healthy sex drive; which one of these ‘actors’ is in charge of that?”

“None of them actually. I take care of the talking and thinking part myself. I have to keep control of it since the sort of things we enjoy are pretty weird; nobody would understand if they found out. The little boy behind you who I have mostly outgrown is the one who really enjoys sex. I am the one who understands how serious the consequences are, so I keep a lid on things.”

Here was the center of the problem in a nutshell. I remembered that I had actually believed that my most basic and primal needs were wrong and had thought I needed to suppress them. I had re-invented myself completely and because of initial successes had lived an outwardly ‘normal’ life. The inner drive slowly but inevitably re-emerged and nearly drove me insane as it made me think I was some sort of incurable deviant, living a secret double life.

“Dear boy, I cannot tell you what you should do, but I will tell you a few things I have found to be true. In time, soon in fact, you will find that there are only two good reasons for doing just about anything. Either it teaches you something, or it is fun to do. Anything else is necessary in order to be able to do those things. It is important for you to see that ‘little boy’ you speak of as your best friend; a fun-loving, adventurous half of your complex, wonderful personality. He, SHE in fact, sees the big picture, and knows what you really are, and what you really need.  Together you are an awesome person. Alone, as half a person, you will find misery. I know why you have brought in this collection of actors, but you really don’t need them if you have her.” 

He looked doubtfully at this old person telling him his existence over the last five years had been misguided. “I have been so lonely inside, trying to make things work. I was sure in order to become an adult what I needed to do was put away the childish ideas so I could be accepted as a strong, serious man; someone others could put their trust in.”

“You are strong and intelligent and reliable, but because you have never listened to that childlike voice you have never seen that having fun is not evil. Sex isn't just procreation. It is an essential part of being a whole person. What you need desperately is another human being with whom you can  share your sense of what is interesting and fun; a person to share a relationship of love and support . By re-inventing yourself, you are creating a wonderful, but phony person. You will use him to find a lover, yes, but that woman will love who you seem to be. She will share and support the goals you pretend to have. They won’t be far off the mark, but far enough, and the person you really are will gradually emerge from this denial you are contemplating. That real person will come as a surprise and will cause divisions within you and in your marriage too as you struggle to keep up appearances. Even if you survive, as my sweetie and I have done so far by great luck and hard work together, it will cost you and that wonderful, trusting lady dearly.”

Looking at me and smiling he said. "We find a soulmate?"

"Yes, she and I have had a wonderful life, but through the years, our relationship has had many rocky times because of my deception; the same deception you are now considering.

He looked past me at young Halle. “You say that child who keeps messing things up by his emotional behavior is important and you call him a girl? That can't be right. Girls don’t like sex and he loves sex and doesn’t take any of it seriously. I have to hide what he makes us want to do. We have had all kinds of close calls thanks to him.”

“Please accept what I say now on faith, because in time it will be confirmed by experience. Out there are lots of women who will think this little girl’s wildest fantasies are very tame. If you can become one person, and live true to yourself, you will attract like-minded women who will love your kind, caring nature as well as your ability to fantasize.” I looked back at my young Halle smiling at me as I spoke. “Don’t you dare shut her away. Learn to love your whole self, as you are.”

As I moved out of that dream, I could see the zombie-like actors blinking out, one by one, until only the young man and the young girl were still there. The scene seemed to brighten too; no longer the warehouse, but a place with vistas, all kinds of possibilities opening. As I pulled back out of the scene, I saw new branches, a myriad of them, appearing on my gossamer tree.

Halle Visits The Boy - Part 2

continued from Part 1

As a child, I was always building models, and drawing plans for futuristic houses and apartments. I should have studied to become an architect, but took all the wrong courses in school, then got interested in other things.

The view out the window screamed 1960’s Futurama with high-rise buildings and monorails joining them; people walking around down below on open concourses. It was his dreamscape and I was in it. The apartment furnished with white smooth leather, armless chairs and couches. With all of the teak it should have smelled, but of course, this was a dream and there was my eleven year old self, running toward me in it.  

“Halle! You found my apartment in the city I imagined you living in!”

“Wow! You have some wonderful ideas here sweetie. Everything has such clean sharp lines and I love the layout of this apartment! But no cars?”

“Nope, in the future the car will be gone, replaced by public transit and high speed rail service. I think so anyway. Wait a minute, you can tell me all about it, can’t you?”

“No my dear child self, I can’t tell you what your future will be like.”

“Is it against the time-travel rules or something?”

Sitting and tucking my feet under me on his comfy-looking couch I tried to let him down softly. “No, it is more like ‘I don’t know’. In my world, it really hasn’t changed that much from your time; just way more cars and even taller buildings and lots of suburbs. You see, every choice you and everyone else makes in your time changes the way the future goes”. He sat down across from me, taking me and everything I said in. “I wish it was possible to tell you what you or your future world will be like, but you are not likely to be the person who I was, just because I am here telling you about it. You see, nobody from the future ever visited me when I was your age, as much as I wish it could have happened.”

“Oh Halle” he seemed so happy it melted me, “I had hoped that by making this future world in my dream it might bring you back, and here you are. You said before you know all about me. If that is true, then you can tell me what I should do, you know, about how much I hate being who I am.”

I so wished to find a way to tell him everything possible, but I knew it had to be short, and simple for it to stick after he woke. “You hate yourself that much?”

“Nobody understands Halle. I have to hide everything; you know, right?”

“Yes, I remember how much we wanted to tell someone, but knew nobody would understand. I know you think you are the only person in the world who is a boy and wants to do everything the girls do, but have the wrong body. Everyone makes fun of you even when you try your best to be who they want.”

“I can’t be a girl. That’s impossible; I know that. I just wish I could find out how I can be me… or who the real me is… it is so confusing sometimes and going back to school is the worst part, with bullies and boring teachers and having to watch the girls in their short dresses and heels. Why do I want to be like them Halle?” He was so desperately unhappy.

“You can’t change yourself sweetie, and it isn’t your fault, any of it. That is the most important thing you have to know. You need to trust that you are a really wonderful person. Nothing about you is wrong or bad and the way you feel is something others do share; not many, but there are others. You need to trust Gran enough to tell her how you feel.”

“I can’t tell Gran! She’ll be so angry.”

“If she does get angry, it will be because she thinks she has done something wrong bringing you up.”

“Like when we moved away from the last place so I couldn’t hang out with Heather any more. I heard her and Grandpa talking about how worried they were about me becoming a homosexual because I liked playing with girls all the time. If I tell them about this they'll put me in a military school or worse.”

I remembered how bad all of it had been. What could I tell him to help him get through the next few years without hating himself so much? His desperation was contagious, like falling down a black hole. That mental suggestion was enough to start the dreamscape crumbling away in front of me; his beautiful world coming apart, like his life seemed to be.

I called out to him, “Trust her! She loves you and when she knows how serious you are and that it isn’t anything she has done, she will do anything she has to do to make you safe and happy…. Trust her!”

He was waking up and I was left wondering if anything I or anyone might say could help him. I wondered if what we had shared in dreamtime might move him away from the terrible loneliness and pitfalls I remembered from the next few years of his life.

If I meet him again, will I recognize myself? I hope not.

(Concluded in part 3)

Halle Visits The Boy - Part 1

Where do dreams come from? I mean the kind you have while you sleep, not the kind most of us have that include being young and full of self-assurance and female. :P

This blog was intended to be (at least partly) letters to my young self. I often wonder what I would try to tell that person who felt so confused, being twisted by the world to become something he was not, and at the same time to be made so embarrassed by what he was; weak, sensitive and loving.

Maybe instead of a letter, I could be part of his dreams…

The first flood of memory is the sound, then the smell of the place. Those come even before the sight of that beautiful sweep of beach framed by trees and water. It is a solitary place now and that means that it is late summer. The few visitors who come here are gone and it has been abandoned to the gulls, the dead fish and a boy.

Waves crash in on the sandy shore. That might be what put the boy to sleep, lying on the warm sand. The smell is dead fish that wash up with those waves, mixed with seaweed and other stuff that nature puts into that soup that foams and then retreats.

The boy hated the smell when he first came here. As a child of the city, he was used to human smells that weren’t more pleasant, but were familiar. After a time, he had learned to enjoy coming here for the solitude; a break from people who always expect him to be someone he isn’t. The sights, smells and sounds became the background, and those became part of the peace he found. He is asleep, but doesn’t know that, as he sees me walking along.

Taking off my sunhat, and shaking my hair free in the breeze I offer, “Gorgeous day isn’t it?” I decide to let him know that our meeting is my idea and I intend to intrude. “and a perfect place to be alone and think about things, too”.

He takes me in, looks out at the waves, looks back at me. “Are you a friend of dad’s?”

“He and I are related. I definitely know you. I know everything about you.” He is a very clever lad, so this will get him going.

“Sure, everyone thinks they can read my mind. Everyone knows me better than I know myself. O.K.  so why am I here right now?”

“Let’s see. This is 1963 right; so this would be the summer you spent three weeks down here and met Andrea. She has gone home, so you came here so you wouldn’t have to hang around with the boys. How am I doing so far?”

“So we are related, you know Andrea.  I don’t remember ever seeing you before, and why do you keep talking about stuff that is happening now as stuff you remember?”

“Think of me as your fairy godmother if you like. I am the one person who really knows you. Let me convince you. Last week, Andrea slipped while going into the trailer and cut her shin so badly it took seven stitches to close it up, so she hasn’t been able to go in the water since. She left for home this morning.”

“You must be a friend of Andrea’s mom to know all that stuff.”

“I told you, I know you, not Andrea. I had forgotten about her for a long time.”

“ You are so strange, lady.” I can tell he is really confused about a relative he doesn’t know. “So who are you then, an aunt or second cousin I haven’t met, because you look a lot like family?”

“I’m family alright. You call me Halle.”

“You mean ‘you can call me Halle’?” he said with a puzzled look.

“No sweet-cheeks, I got it right the first time. From my perspective, you are, or some future version of you is, sitting at home right now documenting this visit and you call me Halle. I am part of you, in a way.”

“Well you are a woman, and I am a boy, so you have that wrong, don’t you?”

The moment of truth; be gentle but firm too. “You can’t fool me, kid. I know this stuff, and no I won’t tell anyone, because I know how mixed up you feel about those boy/girl feelings.” Here comes the weird stuff, kiddo. “I am from one of your futures; probably quite a few of them, actually. In some of your futures, the person writing is me… it gets complicated.”

“A future where I am a woman? That’s possible? Now I am sure this is a dream and it’s time to wake up.” And he did just that; with a start; looking around.

In that instant where you waken, and a dream is fresh, you might remember most of it. After a while, it mostly goes away… mostly.

I really need to think about what he needs to know back then. Some of it might even help this version, older but hardly less confused most days.



continued in Part 2

Can't Live Without Them - Conversation Part 3

(continued from Part 2)

Pictures and feelings and EMOTIONS; all way over the top! This lady is on overdrive all of the time; demanding that I "get busy and put it all into words, NOW!"

That mistress part has never been truer than these last few years. It is just like it was when we were a child, only worse because she loves everything SO MUCH, and she wants to be SO HAPPY and send messages to ALL OF OUR WONDERFUL SISTERS! all of the time, all of a sudden.

Where did this come from lady??? Unbelievable, how she let me know, in no uncertain terms that we were going to start making comment and sending emails and now we must write a web-log of ALL THINGS, under her name? Do you remember that line from ‘Ghost Busters’?

“THERE IS NO DANA! THERE IS ONLY ZUUL!” 

I am no zombie, believe me, but sometimes it would be nice if she could just stay asleep until past five in the morning. Like a little kid, she is, so full of ideas and fun and “please, can’t we get up and write this down NOW so we don’t forget like we always used to?”

No, I do not hate this lady. Sometimes I wish she could filter, just a little. But that is my job, and you know what? I honestly think I am having a good time here, so let’s let her go for a while, and see where it takes us. Life should be an adventure, you know. Maybe that is what she wants after all of those years, serving my purpose of getting on with doing what we had to do. Now she would like to have a bit of fun. If only she could send me images of something very macho that we’d like to emulate. It is always dresses, and high heels and hair that is like a halo with lots of waves and curls. Lots of bling, please.

Petra and Stana, you aren’t helping me out here, but you make her very happy.

Excuse me now, I need to try to send a message, and she is tired, and has had her way for the last couple of hours, so it’s hard to get her attention.

Hello in there! We are a man! Remember? Hello!

She isn’t paying the least bit of attention.

Reporting From Control Central - Conversation Part 2

(continued from Part 1)

There is a typical male attitude for you. He is making me this oh so wonderful façade, so I can hide behind it, hide behind him and, what? Just what is it he thinks I am going to do, wash dishes; clean the house? He wants me to be here to support him and do his thinking for him, then quietly step back into the shadows again so the world can believe he is this amazing metro guy who can do anything. I don’t feel any new mind warping drugs in my part of this brain, yet he is acting as though he is smoking some pretty good…well, you know.

His idea about the ‘femme side’ being locked away is pretty convenient but not quite accurate. The previous description pretty much sums it; he has had his façade for a long time, thanks to me. Every decent thought he has had, that was in the least bit original, has been from me. It was not a good idea to have him worrying about us, with so many other things to worry about, so I have delayed self-gratification. Pretty wise for such a young dame, huh? ☺

The name he dreamed up for me is kinda cute and suits me pretty well. Mistress Halle sounds better at the moment, though. That might sound as if it has kinky connotations, so we’ll keep that between us. O.K.? It is such fun to keep a man dangling.

Until he can come up with something better, (and you know that will be an idea sent from ‘she who must be obeyed’, hehe) I will allow him to go with the current plan and help him shore up that façade of his too. You can bet I’ll continue keeping him on edge though. I have learned a few feminine ways over the years!

Don’t expect to hear much from ol’ slim, by the way. In spite of what you might have been encouraged to believe, he has been pretty inarticulate over the years. Together we make a decent person. He needs to get used to that, and figure out a better way to deal with me existing in his world. I might make him twist in the wind some in the meantime. Personally I’m doing just fine (for now anyway) here in Control Central, thank you very much.

Hugs all ‘round girls,

Halle

(continued in Part 3)

She Said, He Said - Conversation Part 1

“Hey sad sack, what are you working on over here?” the tall, smiling lady in the sun dress asked, walking over to join the man standing next to the teetering object.
“You don’t recognize your own façade? I’ve been working on it for a couple of months now.” He tried not to sound too upset, thinking she should have had at least an idea what it was, even in its early stages.

Suppressing a chuckle, feeling a little sorry for him, she pretended to look more closely, while not getting close enough to be in the debris field if it was to come down.
“My façade, is it? A little fragile, don't you think? What about using any of this old stuff lying around on the ground here?” she smirks.

“You know darn well we spent good time pulling this old crap out together and agreed it should be trashed!”

“Just making sure we are on the same page, old man.” She turns to leave.

“The least you could do is help a bit. Even a few ideas here and there might help me give it enough support to stand without all these temporary props I’ve been forced to put into it.”

Turning slowly on her heels to look back, grinning. “You seem to have things going along just fine on your own. See you later, slim.”

Women…

(continued in part 2)

Why the façade?

When I realized that accepting my feminine side was the only way to heal the rift in my psyche, it was a huge step. I felt as though an internal truce had been declared. Old destructive habits relaxed and I felt well. Acceptance began a new process; my need to understand how to help myself be the best person possible, without really worrying about why I was born male, not female as every inclination I have tells me I should be.

I will freely admit wishing I could be one of those who can glam up and head out to be themselves for a few hours, or even a weekend. I can also read between the lines in the stories of those I envy, and it isn’t all fun and games when you take the risk of emulating those you admire. No six year old girl playing dress up would ever be mistaken for her mother at the mall, even if she was five foot-two. There is a steep learning curve to womanhood and I will need a lot of mentoring to be able to avoid embarrassing myself and those around me. My wife would be a perfect mentor, but sadly, she has said that the very idea of her man dressing as a woman is not only embarrassing, but ‘sickening’. Having a lot of strong feelings of my own, I won’t argue with how she feels, but wish to find a way to help her learn that I am worth staying with and continuing to love, no matter what outward appearance I have.

I don’t confuse the façade with being the way I was before. Passing as a male (ironic, hmm?) has meant carefully observing how males around me dealt with situations; their body language, posture, vocal inflections, etc. I spent my life doing this subconsciously. I now catch myself using their macho stuff when situations trigger them, and these days I head these phantom men off before they take me over.

Until I come up with a better plan, my goal is to be as true as possible to my feminine nature, while presenting as a male. This means getting rid of those macho reactions to situations that I have gathered over the years, replacing them with a spontaneous 'Halle reaction'. I am listening more, responding with enthusiasm more and trying to smile a lot more to encourage others. If I had been a woman, you can bet she would have been a strong, assertive person that others would trust. Losing Mrs. H’s trust by having to admit deception hurt a lot. I am searching for an authentic person who can be ‘all he/she can be’. That is what I mean by being true to myself.

So, why the façade? Unless it becomes obvious that I cannot be the best person I know how to be while staying in the body I came with, I am not going to risk losing the people who I love. It is that simple, and that complicated too.

Hugs,

Halle

Stranger and Stranger

Did you ever feel like a stranger on the planet?

There are many of us out here. We pass as one of you because our survival depends upon it. Learning everything possible about the real creature hidden inside, we maintain the appearance that has served us well all of our lives.
In most cases (in my observation so far) we have spouses, and children, and coworkers who would never suspect us of being anything other that what we have portrayed.

The more I learn about myself, the less I like the bits that have allowed me to pass all of these years. I will have to be very, very careful, since it is my goal to stay a man on this strange planet, even though I am becoming more and more female, and shedding more and more of the baggage. The locals don’t like men who are really female.

Life gets stranger and stranger.