A World of Firsts
by Raven Usher
One of my favorite old sayings is, “There is a first time for everything.” I wonder who said that for the first time?
For kids there are a lot of firsts. It is just the nature of growing up. First step, first word, first day of school, fist time swimming. Once we get to a certain age we start thinking our firsts are all behind us. What a mistake that is! There is no ending to the firsts. They keep on coming and coming.
Of course we all have different numbers of firsts as adults depending on how we have chosen to live our lives. Some people choose a path that keeps them to themselves, secure in the familiarity of an established routine that rarely varies into the unknown of first times. Some people choose paths of excitement where they go out of their way to seek out all the excitement and thrills of as many first times that they can find. Then there are those of us who’s path in life meanders through a forest of first times giving us no choice but to face them.
The transgender life has a myriad of first times that I never anticipated and it seems that the fates exalt in springing them on me. I do have to admit. They certainly do keep life from getting boring.
When we reach adulthood we fool ourselves into thinking that the majority of our first times have been experienced. For the average person that may be well and true. But I am constantly surprised at the every-day mundane occurrences that pop up offering me a new first time. The ironic part of it is that many of them are my second shot at a first time.
I know what you are thinking. “How can I have a second first time at something?”
That is a simple answer. I am getting a whole new set of first times with my new life as a girl. As a boy, I went through the world hungrily experiencing all the firsts times I could find. Now as a girl, all those first times are ahead of me once again.
When I finally saved my own life by making the decision to transition, the last thing on my mind was all the things I would have to do for the first time again. As a matter of fact, there was no way I could have possibly consider them all. Some were not the least bit surprising. The first time going out in public, the first piece of official identification, the first doctor’s appointment, using a public restroom; all these kinds of things are easy to anticipate.
It is the little things that catch me by surprise: The first time a store clerk called me “Ma’am.” The first time I noticed that my breasts cast their own shadow. The first time a man stepped back and allowed me to go ahead of him in a line. The first time I had a conversation with someone who could not manage to continuously look me in the face.
On the first weekend in August it was the first time I walked up the bank of the Boise river into Anne Morrison park... wearing a bikini. Actually it was the first time I wore one of my bikinis in ANY public forum. I was wearing shorts and a tank top shirt when I went into the water. I was not nearly so covered when I got out. I had been having so much fun playing in the water that I did not think about walking through a crowded public park until I was a good fifty yards into the middle of it.
I am quite use to people, especially men, helping themselves to an eyeful of my wares. I particularly enjoy it when a passing admirer stumbles over his own feet or runs his grocery cart head-long into an end cap. But as provocative as my manner of dress tends to lean, I am never as uncovered as that bikini left me. It is so easy to feel naked when you practically are.
Of course no one was watching me (aside from the young admirers who had made a sport out of watching all of the women coming out of the river). I had a momentary urge to dive back into my other clothes. I shook it off and went about my business in the park. I even played a game of tag with my kids.
By the time I was in the car and on my way back home, I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself. Being that exposed in a place with that many people was one hell of a first time! I made it through with a smile and some laughs and I ultimately had a pretty good day in the park.
The point is, my dears, that we cannot allow our fear of new things allow us to let those all important first times go by without experiencing them. Yes, it can be scary. The unknown and unexpected often are. But what is life without a little excitement now and then? It would barely be worth living.
Blessed Be
by Raven Usher
One of my favorite old sayings is, “There is a first time for everything.” I wonder who said that for the first time?
For kids there are a lot of firsts. It is just the nature of growing up. First step, first word, first day of school, fist time swimming. Once we get to a certain age we start thinking our firsts are all behind us. What a mistake that is! There is no ending to the firsts. They keep on coming and coming.
Of course we all have different numbers of firsts as adults depending on how we have chosen to live our lives. Some people choose a path that keeps them to themselves, secure in the familiarity of an established routine that rarely varies into the unknown of first times. Some people choose paths of excitement where they go out of their way to seek out all the excitement and thrills of as many first times that they can find. Then there are those of us who’s path in life meanders through a forest of first times giving us no choice but to face them.
The transgender life has a myriad of first times that I never anticipated and it seems that the fates exalt in springing them on me. I do have to admit. They certainly do keep life from getting boring.
When we reach adulthood we fool ourselves into thinking that the majority of our first times have been experienced. For the average person that may be well and true. But I am constantly surprised at the every-day mundane occurrences that pop up offering me a new first time. The ironic part of it is that many of them are my second shot at a first time.
I know what you are thinking. “How can I have a second first time at something?”
That is a simple answer. I am getting a whole new set of first times with my new life as a girl. As a boy, I went through the world hungrily experiencing all the firsts times I could find. Now as a girl, all those first times are ahead of me once again.
When I finally saved my own life by making the decision to transition, the last thing on my mind was all the things I would have to do for the first time again. As a matter of fact, there was no way I could have possibly consider them all. Some were not the least bit surprising. The first time going out in public, the first piece of official identification, the first doctor’s appointment, using a public restroom; all these kinds of things are easy to anticipate.
It is the little things that catch me by surprise: The first time a store clerk called me “Ma’am.” The first time I noticed that my breasts cast their own shadow. The first time a man stepped back and allowed me to go ahead of him in a line. The first time I had a conversation with someone who could not manage to continuously look me in the face.
On the first weekend in August it was the first time I walked up the bank of the Boise river into Anne Morrison park... wearing a bikini. Actually it was the first time I wore one of my bikinis in ANY public forum. I was wearing shorts and a tank top shirt when I went into the water. I was not nearly so covered when I got out. I had been having so much fun playing in the water that I did not think about walking through a crowded public park until I was a good fifty yards into the middle of it.
I am quite use to people, especially men, helping themselves to an eyeful of my wares. I particularly enjoy it when a passing admirer stumbles over his own feet or runs his grocery cart head-long into an end cap. But as provocative as my manner of dress tends to lean, I am never as uncovered as that bikini left me. It is so easy to feel naked when you practically are.
Of course no one was watching me (aside from the young admirers who had made a sport out of watching all of the women coming out of the river). I had a momentary urge to dive back into my other clothes. I shook it off and went about my business in the park. I even played a game of tag with my kids.
By the time I was in the car and on my way back home, I was feeling pretty damn proud of myself. Being that exposed in a place with that many people was one hell of a first time! I made it through with a smile and some laughs and I ultimately had a pretty good day in the park.
The point is, my dears, that we cannot allow our fear of new things allow us to let those all important first times go by without experiencing them. Yes, it can be scary. The unknown and unexpected often are. But what is life without a little excitement now and then? It would barely be worth living.
Blessed Be
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