Day 1: Porn's princess, Out in the cold, Jan 31, 2008

Jan 2008 four years HRT: I went to Canada on vacation and lost my id and couldn't check in my hotel, at that time I was a woman who cared mostly about money, possessions, and drugs. I could have put down payment on a nice car with just the money it cost for the out fit I was wearing that day..My heart had been broken the year before and looking back I would have to admit I couldn't see past my own nose and was not a person who possed compassion at the time. I was compensating I suppose maybe trying to create an image of someone strong instead of someone who had just been seriously hurt by the person they fell in love with 4 years prior. To this day I will always have love for him but no different than the love I have for others and as for his betrayal I healed in time, lots of time.. the world showed me where I needed to be...

Having somehow lost my Id the hotel would not let me check in so I found myself standing in the ornate lobby of a place I had booked but couldn't stay while outside the city was claiming to be having its worst snow storm of the year, I looked at my shoes and thoguht how unpractical they where to pack and I questioned all the people I allowed to advise me in my formative years of transition as to what presenting female looked like. Clearly like me they had never seen snow and the persona I had perfected over years down to every graceful detail was unpractical in so many ways. what do you do when all that you know is no longer enough?... I left the hotel and looked for a bus station I don't know why but I thought that maybe I could take a bus across the border.

Walking in stilettos is something that women who are good at it wont usually tell you that it took repetition and time until it just became second nature eventually... no amount of accrued experience in the hot humid south could have prepared me for the icy sidewalks in the city. For the first time since I was 18 and fell in love I felt like people weren't looking at me for the strong young woman with the loving husband, but in a way I hadn't felt in a long time... the odd ball out... in this case I was hard to miss, the girl in red patent leather stilettos lugging a suitcase wearing high waisted gold silk bell bottom trousers and a white blouse slipping on the ice ever few feet and falling in the most unpredictable ways. I made it to the bus station without breaking a shoe somehow and was informed I could not cross the border period without my ID (this was before it required a passport for Americans) and that I would have to go to he u.s. consulate which would not be open until tomorrow I had no idea what to do and sat down and attempted to accept my reality and not stir up any trouble or cause a fuss while still being an undocumented immigrant on foreign soil. I was scared to sleep and have my things stolen so I just let my mind wander to pass the time until the consulate opened assuming the bus station stayed open all night.. at 1:45 am an employee told they where closing in 15 minutes and I snapped to a speechless reality wondering what comes next and why did I adopt the motto couture before comfort and refuse to pack flat shoes and a coat. I went to the service window to ask about any maps of the city they may have and any resources that may help until the consulate opened the next day.. I was handed a map, a trolley schedule and a list of all the homeless shelters in the city. The attendant even highlighted the ones closet to us for women and told me that if I followed the route she told me and hustled I could make the last trolley heading to the closest one.

I didn't care about my shoes at this point I couldn't afford to let them slow me down so I took them off and prayed my panty hose would offer some protection from the ground below. I don't recall what that felt like as most of my mind was focused on finding the road signs in the snow storm and getting on that trolley where I would have a moment to gather my thoughts...the minute I sat on that trolley all I could think about for a few seconds was how grateful I was for that seat and this enclosed moving space taking me to a place that's warm and willing to offer me a place to sleep tonight, and with no questions asked accept me into a woman's shelter... my mind was completely blown... How can America be a truly great nation when Canada can so quickly provide shelter to someone homeless and as naturally as breathing offer take a transgender woman and not define her gender by her genitals... for a moment the cold outside couldn't touch me I was just present in the beauty of things not tangible, feelings of what life under a different set of laws was like for these people... I had come to believe that my gender in the eyes of the American government would forever be defined by genitals and someday forcing me to make a choice I didn't want for myself or forever bear the burden of the gender marker that would be my scarlet letter leaving me subject to laws which saw my reality and turn my dreams into fantasy probably put in place long ago in hope to detour trans people from many prominant positions and leave us settling for less. In my first year of transtion I had been fired from several jobs and settled into a life of porn, all solo as agreed upon with my husband at the time. Had the laws been different I can't say if I would have been scouted for or ever considered it.. certainly had never aspired to it.. it wasn't my dream...where would I and my sisters be it America's government wasn't so pink and blue? . I looked out the trolley window into the snow and thought to myself ,"I'm not in Kansas anymore"

The storm was still raging on when I exited the trolley the driver had kindly told me where to go when I said I didn't know the city and could hardly see through the storm. I quickly made my way down the street and around the corner eager to see the face of someone pleased to see me arrive... she asked me for my documents so they could sign me in and I explained why I was there to begin with... she kindly marked my trolley map and the location of the office I needed to be at in the morning and told me I would need to have papers from my government if I where to come back in the future... I went to bed quietly in a dorm style room as to not wake up anyone else...

In the morning i'm ashamed to say but in that moment as I took in my surroundings with the lights on illuminating all the other women I couldn't see last night I was nervous... old habits die hard and all I could think about was protecting my belongings as it would be a major financial inconvenience to have to hunt down and repurchase each item I thought I loved so much... in some ways early on they where my defense... I felt people back home often judged me based on gender, as if they just knew, and that with luxury goods galore they should be wanting what I have not looking at me like a lesser class citizen. I know that wasnt how I was being looked at here in Canada but I also know this isn't my home and I would have to return and when I did I would need these things to maintain the the tactical detailed way of life I had adopted in those early years of my transition.

I was grateful for coffee and a muffin but I sat away from all the other women and kept to myself watching one have a debate with thin air and another draw on wall and another playing in her corn flakes. Who was I because I felt no sympathy nor judgment but quickly noticed the feeling of gratitude for this place being there for me slip away and be replaced by what I thought might be my muffin coming back up... it was clear most women here where not all present and I didn't know what to expect so I quickly left the room and put the thought of them in my past. that is until as I was walking the out the door I was asked what bed number am I. I pulled out my sign in papers to check and she checked a message box behind the desk with the corresponding number and returned to me my wallet which I had forgotten I turned in for safe keeping as it held both my origional my birth certificate and social security card which I couldn't afford to lose, especially now... while I was there signing out another woman came to collect her things from her message box and I watched as the woman behind the desk handed the resident a clear zip lock bag with syringes and alcohol pads inside as if it where the most natural thing ever.

When I asked what just happened I was informed that the shelter is a harm reduction zone and residents turn in their drug paraphernalia when they come in at night are allowed to get it back when they exit... it's hypocritical to be grateful for the kindness they showed and outcast like me and not comfortable with what I just witnessed but all I could think of in that moment was that I had came into a dark room the night before and layed down to sleep next to women I now knew many to be mentaly ill and who knows how many where on various drugs... I was out of my element and way past my comfort zone.

But I wasn't wearing that scarlet letter today as I left this shelter and headed out into the cold streets of the city...