The Subversive | Volume Twelve

Another issue of the online magazine I published in the early 1990s

THE SUBVERSIVE

Number 12

“Where Dreams are the stuff Reality is made of”

DECLARATION OF PURPOSE

“This journal exists to promote the concept that each human is a unique individual, intrinsically entitled with an equal right to pursue her own destiny as far as it does not inhibit others in that same right. The Subversive shall serve as a ready forum for the free expression and exchange of ideas that do not violate this mandate, in the belief that tolerance grows from a familiarity with variety.”

–signed,
Melanie Anne Phillips, Editor

WHERE TO FIND THE SUBVERSIVE:

The Subversive is available FREE as a download on America Online, Compuserve, Genie, several servers on the Internet, and various BBS around the world.

For those who wish to contribute articles, stories, personal experiences, information, jokes, or whatever Email melaniexx@aol.com, or write to:

Melanie Anne Phillips
150 East Olive Avenue
Suite 203
Burbank, California 91502

Only original material will be accepted unless quoted in the context of an original work or submitted with credit to the original author along with permission to reprint the material.

Submission of original material for publication in The Subversive constitutes a non-exclusive license to Melanie Anne Phillips by the author/copyright holder to reproduce all or part of the material in any media.

EDITOR’S NOTE: It is my desire to make this publication available free online to all who wish to read it. However, due to copyright laws, any overall license would allow unscrupulous individuals to excerpt portions and use it for their own personal gain. Therefore, should you wish to upload this publication on your BBS or simply generate hardcopies for support groups and friends, please write me about a free specific license for your purpose.


EXPLORATIONS

by
Melanie Anne Phillips, Editor

“Excuses, Excuses!”

When I was a child, I often got in trouble for trying to explain. It wasn’t that I was denying I had done wrong, but I just wanted whichever authority figure that was on my case to realize it was an honest mistake: that I had not transgressed intentionally.

This never worked for me. I would be confronted with, “Did you…?” to which I would reply, “Yes, but….” I was never allowed to go beyond that. “No excuses!”, I would be told with harsh and shameful voice, as if I was trying to get out of my impending punishment, or at least mitigate its severity. “But I just want to explain!”, I would plead, only to be slapped back with an even harsher rendition of “I said, No Excuses!!”, and, “Now go back to your [desk, or bed, or room or wherever I had been when the violation had been discovered]”.

Depending on who it was and what I was blamed for I would sulk or cry or throw my mental hands up to thought heaven in frustration, exasperation, sadness. I knew I had done wrong. I was more than willing to accept whatever penalty lay in store. But explaining why the evil deed had happened was very important to me; essentially important. I wanted the person in charge to know that I meant them no ill will; that I was their friend. I wanted them to know that I was wholly unaware I had done them harm, and would have spared no effort to correct the problem or compensate for it on my own, had I discovered it. In fact, that is what I often did. I would fess up to things no one could EVER discover and do so with an offer to make amends.

But the authority figures did not want to hear any of that. Their focus was on the negative addition to their life of which I had been the instrument of perpetration. Knowingly or unknowingly made no difference to them.

I learned, over the years, just to accept the retribution silently. To simply admit to the deed and accept the consequences. Still, I always felt that the authority figure was losing out on this deal: that they were only getting part of the story – a half truth, and would suffer from misconceptions.

Naturally, when I became involved in developing Mental Relativity, this decades-old inequity would resurface, begging an explanation. Fortunately, there is one. The discrepancy between my desire to explain myself and the wronged party’s desire to hear it stems (as a surprising number of things) from the essential differences between the way men and women think.

There are a plethora of aspects to that difference, so no one facet explains more than but a fraction of the effects. Nonetheless, for a given purpose, a specific facet can always be found that best explains it. In this case, the nature of the problem is the way men think vs. the way women think.

Men think primarily in a linear fashion. Linear is mistakenly equated with logic. This is not true. A random chain of thought is certainly linear, because it progresses in a sequence, but it is often far from logical, as one step is not inexorably bound to follow another. A non-causal linearity is not logical. However, assuming an unbroken chain, linear becomes the traditional concept of Deductive logic: the essence of “scientific” thinking.

In contrast, the primary manner of female thinking holism, which is held to be intuitive. This is how men think women think: that somehow all of the data is taken in at once, averaged out, and some cockamamie, unexpected summation pops out of the other end. If men give it any credence at all, it is to think of the process as the whole being greater than the sum of its parts. This is the area women are trained to think in (or, to do their best to accommodate linear logic, male fashion). In Mental Relativity, we call this kind of logic Reduction since it reduces multiple considerations into a single conclusion based on probability.

In between linear Deduction and holistic Reduction we find Induction. Induction determines possibilities and is at the heart of the developing science of Chaos theory which employs non-linear equations that change their function over time. Male science holds non-linear logic to be its favorite child of the moment, imagining it to provide answers to any remaining mysteries of physics, perhaps even psychology.

The problem is there is a FOURTH kind of thinking that is open only to women with any clarity, just as true linearity is open only to men. However, the world has been so trained to perceive things through male eyes that this fourth option has become completely invisible to men. Even women, as a result of being educated in a male-image school system where only linear logic is rewarded, have difficulty in seeing this fourth kind of thinking. Still, this other perspective is at the heart of women’s souls.

We call this fourth manner of logic Production (which determines potentialities) and the manner of thinking it engenders the Analogous mode. Unlike Holism, the Analogous mode examines or observes a situation, then seeks the best past experience that corresponds as a point by point analogy. It does not matter if the subject matter is the same, as long as the pattern of relationships is identical. That is to say, that if black and white are opposites, we might analogize that to apply to hot and cold. Certainly black and white have little or nothing intrinsically to do with hot and cold, yet the analogy works in comparing the relationship between the two.

When one employs the Analogous mode, one is trying to put things in context; trying to get a sense of the patterns at work so that pre-existing meaning might be applied to a new situation, clarifying what is really going on. That is about as far from causal linear logic as you can get. And that is why it is not taught, nor respected, nor even acknowledged.

“Women’s intuition”, they smile, and knowingly say, as if casting female thought patterns into the realm of magic denecessitates an effort to understand. What a bloody cop out! Rather than joining us in mapping out the fabric of our beings so that we too might seek greater fulfillment (as we have done for them for years) they either force us to accept their way, or cast ours into the ethereal plane.

Not intentionally, mind you. Its just because intrinsically, they cannot see it, so it has no value. But that’s an excuse, isn’t it? No, just like my feeble attempts to put things in context as a child, it is an explanation.

You see, only causal linearity can discover a breaking of the rules, mete out a punishment and leave it at that. But this kind of thinking is just what is responsible for overcrowded prisons, ghetto riots and eye for an eye wars.

Now, do you see what I did in that last paragraph? I took the concept of a linear vs. analogous approach in punishing children and JUMPED to the analogous mode of applying the same contextual relationships to crime, poverty, and military jihads. This is a clear example of how the analogous mode works, and why that argument would never be acceptable in a male-oriented culture.

We all have blind spots. At a biomental level, men have one, women have another. The problem is, men by nature are more externally motivated. As such, religion, education, science – the entire culture has been cast in their image incorporating their blind spot. We, as women, are brought up not only afflicted with our own built-in blind spot, but are fed flawed data that already incorporates theirs.

Obviously, if we are to see the world for what it is, thereby providing TWO points of view to the human species, we must build additions on the infrastructure of culture: additions of no value to men, but inherent value to women. Only then will our daughters be able to grow up with a fresh slate of information that doesn’t hobble their minds like ancient cultures hobbled their bodies.

Which brings us back to THIS child and her attempts to explain. If I had been born anatomically female, rather than just mentally female, I would not have gotten any farther in communicating to the male-image authority figures. But, at least they would nave had more tolerance for my approach, viewing it as “just one of those girl things” that had to be trained out of me. But as a little boy who thought like a girl, all they saw was another linear thinking delinquent, who was trying to weasel out of atonement.

I thank God, that I was born a transsexual. Because rather than succumbing to years of brainwashing that would have worked if they treated me like a girl, I was able to hold on to an awareness of the injustice of it all because they treated me like a boy. They used the wrong brainwashing tools and left this lucky mind a little bit freer to see what was really going on.

Granted, it took me 36 years to understand the truth before I knew who I was and why. But it has taken women 36 millennia to do the same. Women have had the right to vote for three quarters of a century, but we still do not have the right to think. As the Roman Empire discovered, the best way to overcome an enemy is to absorb them. The Primary Culture alters its nature but a little, as it is so comparatively large. But the subculture is lost entirely as its identity is absorbed. That’s what happened to the beatniks, the hippies, and the Native Americans. its what is happening now to the blacks, the Mexican Americans and the gays. It happened to women before recorded history, and now its time for a change.

— Copyright 1993, Melanie Anne Phillips


LETTERS TO THE EDITOR

Subj: Sharing my thoughts… 🙂
From: Robyn Joan
To: Melanie XX

I’ve recently realized that I am a transgendered person. It’s been a real discovery for me. I finally saw the rainbow that is the beauty of humanity, in all its forms. And saw that my happiness, here and now, has nothing whatsoever to how I’m doing financially or job-wise. It has to do with my tolerance for the Robyn side of me, and finally letting her free! You see, for a long time, I had tolerance on the outside, but almost no tolerance for what is inside of me. But that doesn’t work, especially for me. It’s just another way of denying the truth. Sometimes truth hurts, but it’s always better to go with truth than with falsehood. Everyone has to find their own truth; my truth won’t work for anyone else, though it has some similarities to others. I think I’ve found out why truth hurts so much. Because, (at least to me), truth is beauty, in its purest form. Something we’re not used to seeing that much these days. I don’t have any real answers after this revelation. Mostly just more questions. But finding the rainbow showed me so much. And as I proceed with negotiations with myself, so that both genders can be expressed in me, I hope that my thoughts will help others to find their own rainbows. For there is one for every one of us.. We just have to look for it.

Your Friend,
Robyn Joan Devlin

P.S. If there is space for this in the next Subversive, I would appreciate its inclusion there. Also, from this experience, I’ve come up with a term for those in the gender community, and those that care and support us all. RP. What does it stand for? Rainbow Person, or Rainbow People in the plural. Because, when you can see one rainbow, you can see them all… 🙂


Reply to Robyn Joan:

Thanks for your letter. I have placed it in Subversive #12, which will be uploaded to the New Files area of the GLCF about mid-month. The observations we can make along our personal journeys of self-discovery have meaning for others who are just a step behind. That’s why we need new voices every step of the way; so that as each individual advances, someone new steps into the place they vacated to carry on that voice. In this way, a chorus of understanding is created out of “musical chairs”: each individual voice adopting a new melody through growth while the harmony of the chorus never changes.

Thank you for your thoughts, and keep on singing!

Love,
Melanie Anne


And now for the next installment in the serialization of the book:

RAISED BY WOLVES:
A TRANSSEXUAL DIARY

by

Melanie Anne Phillips

PRELUDE

The pages beneath, chronicle my 30 month journey from a life as an apparently normal husband and father to that of an apparently normal woman. In the hope of capturing the immediacy of this emotional trip into the unknown, I shunned the retrospective approach, opting instead for a daily Diary.

Each entry was made on the day the events actually happened, expect as noted. And each is filled with the raw and unpolished thoughts and feelings that held me at that moment.

Of course, this leads to a somewhat meandering story, as well as contradictions in my point-of-view and personal emotional outbursts that I’m sure will make me squirm once this is published. But anything less would be less than truthful. And if this document is to serve any purpose as either a tool for tolerance and understanding or as an inspiration to those contemplating any major life-change, then it must be completely honest.

NOTE: Starting with September, 1990, my schedule became so tight while I was editing the feature film, Social Suicide, that I could no longer take the time to make my diary entries directly onto the computer. The only way not to lose the emotion of the moment was to record my thoughts onto a microcassette recorder. Obviously the results are not as polished, nonetheless, I include them here as they are the only record of this portion of my transition.


September 5, 1990

Okay, I’m on my way to work. I’m walking behind these five year old kids. ……

I’m crossing the street to the other side now because I have this terrible image of someone reading me and calling the cops and I get hauled away for stalking them or something, when in reality all I’m doing is trying to get to work. My driver’s license hasn’t come yet and I don’t have any I.D. It could be a real interesting situation.

Okay, I’m crossing the parking lot at the Pantages theatre where Shirley MacClaine is doing here one woman show. And down the street about a block is the Capitol Records building, the one you see collapsing in the movie, “Earthquake”.

I suppose I’ve finally made it, working on Hollywood and Vine. Its amazing what you have to do with your life to achieve celebrity status. Fortunately, the things I have to do are the same things I would do anyway just because they are important to me. I keep harping on this, but it’s something I’ve always wanted: being the center of attention. I’m not egotistic, just egocentric. I don’t mind the publicity, and I sure as hell don’t mind talking about myself! God, is this self-serving.


I just went to the restroom and suddenly I heard a voice, just like my mother calling me when I was a small boy. I was sure I heard her say, “David”. I started crying, and I felt so devastated and alone and guilty for having let her die and not be holding her hand when she did. I miss her so much. I want her touch and her hug. I want a different life.


I’m driving back home, past Warner Brothers again. It’s about 11 O’clock at night. Now that I am content with my decision to go all the way with this, I don’t feel I have to anymore. I’m actually looking forward to coming home and assuming the role of Dave tonight. And I think I’m going to enjoy it for the first time in a long time: to just going in and be the macho son-of-a-bitch; to play the protector for Mary, to giver her a hug and a squeeze and bluster around the house in a very male way.

There’s no way to predict the future. For all I know, after I have surgery, I may end up some day having a double mastectomy and taking male hormones toward being a man for the rest of my life. It almost doesn’t really matter. Even though I’m doing things to my body that can endanger my very life, the quality of that life is so much enhanced by being able to fully live one role or the other that I’m more than willing to put up with that risk – the same as I would if I were a mountain climber or a hang glider or anything else. The quality of my life, the degree to which it has improved by the activities that carry that risk far outweigh the risk for me.


I’m almost home and I just thought “Wait a minute! I don’t want to go in and bluster like I thought I did: I just want to go in and be me.”

September 6, 1990

I really don’t know what has happened here in terms of my feelings. I don’t feel any tension anymore. I was alone today on the one floating day off I get each week. I did all kinds of chores feeling halfway between Dave and Melanie. Basically, I went around today in boy jeans and a T-shirt, but dressed like that I still looked very feminine because of the hair going down to my shoulders and the cut, as well as the bustline. I answered the phone both ways today. I would answer as Melanie and then go off the line and come back on as Dave, if that was necessary. In the afternoon I was watering the lawn with beard stubble under my chin and a couple came by walking their dog. The man said, “How’s it going” and I answered in Melanie voice “Pretty good, thanks”. I don’t know what they thought of it. The neighbors gave me a lot of weird looks but the funny thing is there’s no tension in it.

I went out to the garage and looked at the little room my dad has cleared for me and felt no need to be away in it. The whole time I’ve been home with Mary this evening, I’ve felt no pressure in using Dave voice. I seem to have no trouble feeling Melanie either. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve finally reached that amalgamation I’ve been looking for.

It would’ve been nice if my life was such that I could switch over completely to being Melanie, and I still strive for that someday But it seems that the pain that it causes to try and go that far at this point with my needs at home is too great to make it that distance. I need a place to stop and rest. Right now, it’s comfortable here.

September 7, 1990

I’ve just discovered, due to a summer allergy, that one of the worst things in the world is a runny nose when you’re wearing makeup.


I had a really bad scene at the office today. Some equipment had to be repaired which would have prevented me from working in the morning tomorrow, so Larry asked if I could work half a day in the afternoon and then half a day on Sunday to make up for the lost time. At first I agreed, but then I started feeling really put out. I got very upset and went out to tell Larry I didn’t want to do it.

We got in a huge discussion about it and I started feeling like everything that was happening around the office was designed to make life miserable for me. I got so upset, I had to leave the room. I managed to get myself under control and came back to continue working.

But as soon as I started, Larry and I got in the same argument. I started shaking all over, and began to cry uncontrollably. I sobbed for several minutes. When it washed over me, it was like a fog lifted. Suddenly I clearly saw that I had been completely unreasonable. It wasn’t Larry that wasn’t making sense, it had been me!

That’s when I realized I was on an off-cycle of my new dosage of pills and this was taste of PMS. God! It was like a piece of my brain just shut off! And that’s pretty disturbing for someone who has always prided themselves on being a rational thinker, in charge of their emotions. In PMS you can’t trust your own thoughts. You might as well welcome me to the ranks, ’cause on this new dosage this is going to be a monthly event.

September 8, 1990

Thought for dialog in a screenplay: “This part of town gives you a real taste for the people… and if you’ve ever tasted people, you know they leave a ring in your mouth.”

September 9, 1990

It’s about 1:30 in the morning, maybe a quarter to two. I just got off work with Larry and I’m on my way home. I’m thinking that maybe the real reason I’m doing this is not because I want to be female, but because of the type of marriage I ended up with; the type of mate I ended up with. Perhaps this is a way of creating the mate I wanted.

I’m thinking, “God, I wouldn’t mind going out and being male as hell!” I wouldn’t mind throwing myself into a new relationship and being a lover, a husband, a companion. The thought of a good-looking woman in her early thirties, thin with a good bustline, red skin-tight dress… someone who’s not fake or phony, someone who I can talk to. To hold her…to put my hands on her without fear of rebuff, to know that she thinks of me as a provider and someone who can take care of her… Suddenly I begin to understand what Andy was going through… he has these drives to be female and yet at the same time there is still a very strong male side. Perhaps he’s feeling unfulfilled in both areas.

I have to figure out what is really best for me. But I do know that I’m recording this in female voice.


I just came back from my son’s Junior High: he’s just starting. Its the same one I went to as a boy. The shirt I usually wear to cover up my bustline was dirty, so I had to wear a long-sleeve flannel shirt, and the temperature today was 105! I don’t think Keith noticed, but a lot of people were staring at me. Even with my hair back in a ponytail, I’m sure they were wondering just what the hell I was.

I went out to the hardware store later, and even with one day’s beard growth, when I went up to ask a clerk about a price he said, “Just a minute, Ma’am.” It bothers me when this happens because I know it is just an initial reaction and they figure me out afterwards.

September 10, 1990

Today is the first day of school. And for my kids, since we have moved, this is the first day in a new school for each of them. Keith is going to the same Junior High I attended and Mindi is going to the same Elementary school. Seeing Keith go down the street on his own for the first time was a truly emotional moment. Mary and I both cried together as we let go just a bit to let him grow.


Last night we had Tom S. over for dinner. I started out in Dave mode, but decided to slowly shift into Melanie over the course of the evening to see how Mary would take it. By the end of the visit, I had shifted over almost to where I am when I normally present myself as Melanie. And Mary had not shown any difficulty with it. After Tom left, I asked her about it and she said she was surprised at herself. It was a little uncomfortable to her, but no where near as much as she had imagined it would be.

Later, I shaved my legs to get rid of stubble and just wore a T-shirt around the house. Previously, Mary insisted I wear long pants and long pajamas so that she would not have to see my smooth legs. But this night, she was not bothered by that either.

She only seems to get upset if I talk about it, but if I just do it, she’s okay.

September 10, 1990

I had a really bad day today, and I’m very tired of being Melanie. On the way to work, on the freeway, I cut off a car and nearly had an accident. Then, I got cut off by two other cars. When I pulled off the freeway, I got stuck behind a bus and had to wait there until he moved. When he did, I got a whole lungful of exhaust.

At work, I came in to find Bill repairing the gear. It took him until after lunch to finish. We started to work and realized it still wasn’t repaired. We had to call him back to fix it again.

Then we spent all day trying to make a scene work and never got it right. Finally, we started over from scratch and STILL had not made any progress by the time I left at 10pm.

Also this afternoon, I called Keith to see how he was doing this first week of school. He started out all excited, but I was using Melanie voice since I was at the office. Almost instantly he got very cold and I felt I had killed a wonderful childhood experience that this week would’ve been.

I want nothing more than to call him up and be Daddy. I want nothing more that to go to the County Fair this weekend without someone calling me Ma’am. But I can’t be Daddy and Melanie too. And here I am, still doing Melanie voice and I don’t know why.

September 12, 1990

At work tonight, I took a walk in the hall behind my office. We have the window open back there to let in a breeze. And after hours, when the offices across the way are dark, you can see your reflection in their windows. As I looked at my female reflection, I casually placed my hands on my hips. Instantly I remember a moment from my childhood when I had placed my hands on my hips and my step-father scolded me, saying it was not a masculine gesture and I should never do it again.


I’m driving home. A moment ago, it just hit me: I’ve been living as a woman for nine months. Nine months!!! I mean, my God! I’m still thinking of this as a fantasy that may someday happen. I’ve told all my friends; I’ve told all my relatives, I’m working this way, making a living this way and yet I’m still thinking, “Wouldn’t that be neat to do someday.” I can’t get it through my head that I AM doing it.

September 15, 1990

I’m about to go into the office. I did six hours of electrolysis last night and I’m so red I just have to ladle on the make-up. Even so, its bumpy on top and some of the red still shows through. I’ve got to meet Dorit, the intern, at the office and I’m going to look just like shit, and I hate that! Another wonderful day of pulling myself up by my bootstraps.


This is a very intriguing position to be in: I’m no longer a man. I mean, I may not be a woman, but I’m definitely no longer a man.

September 17, 1990

Yesterday we went out to the L.A. Country Fair. Its the first time I have gone out with the family in a long time where I didn’t fall apart psychologically. At one point, Mary and I were sitting watching Keith on a ride, and Mindi wanted to go on another ride. Mary took Mindi and I waited for Keith. Mary had not been gone for more than a minute when some drunken guy sits down next to me on he bench and puts his arm around me. I moved out of the way, but I could see from the corner of my eye that he stayed there the whole time I was waiting for Keith, eyeing me up one side and down the other. He was really interested and making a very overt play.

Finally, Keith got off and none too soon, believe me, especially since the guy was sitting upwind and his beer breath was all over me. I really got freaked out by that because I was in Dave mode, and even though he saw me as a woman, that’s not how I was presenting myself. I can’t deal with that kind of attention except in Melanie mode. As a male, it really disturbs me.

So I tracked down Mary and I said, “Hey, babe, I can’t deal with this… you stick close to me.” But she said, that fact that he came over should at least tell me that what I’m trying to do is working, even if she is still against it.


Another interesting incident happened here at work today. We had 3 by 5 cards all over the office floor to help edit a scene. I was crawling around on all fours, and Larry looked over and asked me to button my blouse one button higher as too much was showing.

September 19, 1990

Another good morning working with Chris on our story theory. Chris came up with a good personality question that reads “Are you happiest when you Can do what you Need to do or when you Want to do what you Should do?”


There’s only about two days of editing left to finish the first cut of the movie out of 30 hours of original material, but I’m going to be late because I’ve just turned around to go back home because I forgot my pills. Because of the work Chris and I have been doing on justification, I realize that my normal thinking is in the Want/Should line and Larry’s is inn the Can/Need line. I know I SHOULD go straight to work, but I WANT to go back and take my pills. But I can translate that to the CAN/NEED line to make an excuse to Larry that he will accept. I’ll tell him that since I feel such a psychological dependency on my pills, if I don’t take them, I won’t be able to concentrate on my work and we won’t get as much done. I’m actually telling him that my ABILITY to do what he NEEDS will suffer if I don’t do what I WANT. And that is the best argument a woman can make to a man.


Women appear greedy to men because they are more often focused on what they want. Men appear insensitive to women because they are more often focused on what they need.


Morality has no place in a masculine society.

September 20, 1993

I had a day of hugs. First, Michael/Nikki took me out to an early breakfast. Michael is a TV/TS who is sometimes on hormones and sometimes not. I had not seen him in over three months. He complimented me on how good I looked, then gave me a big hug and hinted he would like to take me out on a date sometime. As nice as Michael is, I can’t quite see that happening.

Later, at the office, Larry asked me to work six days this week instead of five, and the thought of going back to that schedule was so stressful I eventually sat down in my editing chair and cried. Larry came over and gave me a hug and said I didn’t have to if I didn’t want to, even though he was pressured on the deadline.

I’m getting treated a whole different way here. Even people who knew me as Dave are actually beginning to think of me as Melanie. Now, I’m 37, and I’ve been thinking maybe its too late to be doing this. Maybe I’m going to get old and wrinkled, and I can see the handwriting on the wall: If I do have any good years left, it can’t be that many.

But I also wonder what would’ve happened if I’d done this at age 18 – how attractive I might have been. And I wonder if I’m attractive now or not.


Nobody treats me like a man anymore. Even Mary has stopped treating me like a man. She doesn’t treat me like a woman but she doesn’t treat me like a man. My kids are the same way. I’m still Daddy and they still love me, but they don’t treat me quite like a man either. I don’t know if its the physical or the mental or both.

Its hard for the reality of this to sink in because this has been a fantasy of mine for at least 30 years.


Right now, I feel content. If you take happiness and separate it from contentment (which is being at peace), then now I am as content as I can be. Happy? Well, there are things that make me happy and things that make me down. But I’m always content.

I wonder if my journey will ever end. I wonder if my transition will ever be complete. I wonder if I will ever stop wondering? There might come a day when I pull it all together and have no more questions. Will that be a good day, or will it be the day I die?

September 21, 1993

Chris came over today and we talked about why men and women get married. Women get married to achieve security in the physical world, men get married to achieve security in the emotional world. At one point I broke down and sobbed as I thought of my mother who looked to me to provide security for her in the physical world because I was a man, even while all I wanted was that same security because inside I was a woman.

I cried, feeling that I had failed my mother.


Chris and I have begun to feel a little egotistic because if our theory of psychology is really what we think it is, we have solved questions about the human mind that people have sought answers to for ages. To think that we would be the first to discover the truth is too egotistic even for us. As Chris says, he keeps waiting for the other shoe to drop. But every time it does drop, it is the next step on the path. The theory doesn’t have to change, it just grows.

We also decided today that if this theory is what we think it is, we will maintain control of it to keep others from using it to bilk people out of their money or trying to turn it into a religion. If this is the secret of happiness, then we are going to make sure people have access to it for free because it belongs to everyone.

September 25, 1990

Today was the big event. I’m driving in the car about half a block from my daughter’s school. She had a schedule change, and since Mary goes into work early I’m the one who will be dropped Mindi off at school and I did it as Melanie.

This is a day I never thought would arrive: when I dropped my daughter off at school as a woman, just like any of the other women dropping their daughters off.


Late last night we finished the first cut of the movie. After six months of 12 hour days, six days a week, its good to have that behind me. The director was so pleased that he decided to move my editing credit up from the traditional fourth position to third, just behind his credit and the producer’s credit.

September 26, 1990

I’ve really been hiding the last few months. Since I am still Dave at home, I don’t go to the store as Melanie, I don’t meet any people as Melanie; I just sit in the office and hide. But today, I don’t want to hide. I’d much prefer to walk in to a store and have someone confront me about it and tell them the truth.


Why do I want to have surgery? Why? Because everything down there feels wrong.

September 28, 1990

Ideas for two bumper stickers: “Replace Lab Animals with Aborted Fetuses” and “Don’t tell me where it itches, ’cause I don’t wanna scratch.” Those should offend just about everybody.


The feeling of well-being I have been experiencing left me this morning. I tried something new with my make-up and my face wrinkled up like a prune.


I just heard from Larry that we have set our first official test screening of the picture, which will be at the Director’s Guild theatre. We’ll just be screening the workprint to get opinions as to what we might improve. But the most important thing is it will be my first public appearance as Melanie in front of important people in the film industry. Of course, the major question is: What the hell am I going to wear?!?


I just asked Larry if he thought that (aside from the physical) I had changed as a person since adopting a female role. He replied that I was definitely not the same person I was before. That’s very interesting because I feel so much like myself I can’t tell if I’ve changed or not.

September 29, 1990

People can deal with you as a woman and they can deal with you as a man, but they can’t deal with you if you are in between. Mindi is a good example of this. She’s okay when I drop her off to school as Melanie. And she is okay when I am Daddy around the house. But the other night I had gone to bed quickly and was wearing a tank top under my pajamas. When she saw this in the morning, she asked me to button up my pajamas so the tank top wouldn’t show.

Therein lies an interesting question: Can society accept someone who either straddles the line or flip-flops across it? That’s what I really want to bust: that you don’t have to be one thing or another; you can be part of each, because that’s what we really are. Perhaps people are so insecure that they cannot tolerate an individual that brings their insecurities into focus.

I asked Larry his opinion the other day, and he said the public was ready to accept a transsexual, but not someone who kept jumping all over the board. People aren’t ready for that. They can’t allow that because they would no longer know who they were themselves. To protect themselves from their own insecurities, they have allowed others to dictate how they can act.

But who are you going to allow to be in authority over you? The only person in authority over you is you. Its through your authority that you ALLOW others to have control over you. It’s not that they take it, but that you give it.

It’s common knowledge that you must conform in order to perform efficiently as part of the corporate whole, and thereby gain its benefits. Anyone who is not following rigid roles is rocking the boat for all of them. Such an individual must be snuffed out. But if you can prove that the corporate whole can function as a conglomeration rather than an amalgamation, then you have a situation in which the individual can flourish.

Still, from the individual’s point of view, it might seem you do not want to take an unpopular stand before you have succeeded in popularity, because then you will have many who will stand by you, knowing what you CAN achieve.


I asked Larry if I could get off an hour early today at 9 pm instead of 10 so I could take my family to the drive-in movie. We have not been able to go to a drive-in all summer because of my work. He agreed. I have kind of arranged the timing so that I won’t get home in time to change. I called Mary and told her to make some popcorn and be ready to come out with the kids when I honked. This will be the first time Mary goes anywhere with me as Melanie. I hope that if it goes well, it will be the first step to being able to be Melanie at home.

I’ve been a little worried lately that when the movie is over, I will lose the opportunity to spend so much of my time as Melanie and will backslide. Hopefully, tonight will work toward preventing that.

September 30, 1990

Last night, when Mary came out to the car, the first thing she did was ask if I had time to wash the make-up off my face. I said I had not, but it would be okay because it was dark. She agreed that was true and we took off. This was important because even though she could not see my makeup, conceptually, she knew it was there.

During the drive, I had been speaking as Dave, but as we pulled into the ticket booth I said, “I think I’d better do this as Mel.” And she said, “That’s probably a good idea – you sort of have to, don’t you? So, I did everything in Mel voice, then as we drove into the theatre I turned to her and said in Dave voice, “Piece of cake!” She said, “I’m just going to the movie with my friend and my two kids – that’s all, nothing unusual about that.”

Obviously, she was rationalizing it, but she was fine with that. As long as she thought of its just us two girls out on the town, it was fine. I slipped in and out of Melanie voice all evening when it was appropriate, testing the waters with her. No adverse reaction that I could see.

On the way back, we needed to get gas. She went in to pay and I pumped the gas. I think that made her a little bit uneasy for us both to be out of the car at the same time, but it was another step.


(Copyright 1993, Melanie Anne Phillips)

Remember: I AM looking for a publisher, so if you chance upon one, don’t keep it to yourself!

(The Transsexual Diary series will continue in the next edition of The Subversive)

I urge you all to keep a diary of YOUR personal journey, whether it be through transition or not. The attitudes and even the order of events becomes cloudy through time, and I am continually amazed to re-read things that memory would have me believe had happened differently. If nothing else, it is a good way to see long-term patterns in yourself that you cannot see except in retrospect. That objective view alone is worth the inconvenience of keeping a journal.


FEATURES

Sarah’s New Skates

The lights were low in the cavernous hall of Cub Luna as I came in. I was nervous, I know it’s not smart for a woman to go to a bar alone even in Santa Fe and I was definitely on my guard.

Cub Luna opened a few years ago in a building that was originally built for a movie theater. They built the bar on one side, the whole side, it’s about a hundred feet long. The place has a reputation for being packed and smoky, but this night there were maybe fifty people, it seemed almost empty. The act hadn’t started yet and I found a table near the stage just one row back from the dance floor.

I had heard this guy Tab Benwa was going to play. He had been interviewed on a local radio station today. He sang some old delta blues and sounded so good that I had to see the show. Well at least that was the excuse I used to convince myself that I needed to come even though all of my girlfriends were ether working or watching someone’s boring home movies of their honeymoon in Samatra.

I ordered a drink from the waitress and sat there listening to the old blues CD’s they were playing. The fact is I’ve been so lonely as of late that going to the show alone seemed to make since. Don’t get me wrong I know I have lots of friends that care about me, but after two years without any close loving body contact, I’m getting desperate. I was about to ravish the first unsuspecting guy that came within arms length.

Getting dressed tonight was tougher than usual, I just couldn’t decide. The dress code in Santa Fe is always casual with some really fancy thrown in just to mix things up. I wanted to look good but not like the horny sex starved wild woman I am. After trying on every thing I own and making a huge pile of unsuitable outfits on my bed I settled on a calf length rayon dress, mostly burgundy but with small flowers all over. It has short sleeves and it’s cut tight on top and very full and flowing on the bottom. It’s a magic dress, some how it makes me feel pretty even if I’m having my period (an interesting phenomenon that only a natural woman or any of us who might be on hormone therapy can relate to). I left one button loose on the top to give my inadequate but growing cleavage a fighting chance and unbuttoned five or six from the bottom so my bare legs could show when I cross them. For earrings I chose these long wide dangling silver things from Bali and I but on a string of tiny cobalt blue glass beads. Wonder of wonders I’m having a good hair day! Its blond by the way, shoulder length and curly. I brushed it out and it looked good, the first time! Wow!

Now, I’m like the rest of you, I love to wear high heels but I’m five foot ten and I don’t want to be any taller than that, so I put on my black cloth Chinese maryjanes. They’re great for dancing and that is just what I intend to do. I put on my eye make-up a little heavier than usual and I even brushed on some translucent powder (something I never do) and some blush. I feel like I look good, maybe too good, this is getting scary.

Well, I’ve been sitting here for about ten minutes before this good looking white guy with curly black hair comes out on stage. He is young and too nice looking for a blues singer but as he starts to play I feel my body start to dance right there in my chair. This guy plays like BB King. He’s up there with a base and a drummer and they are all really hot. A few people are getting up to dance, mostly women dancing in a group. Oh, I really want to dance! But even more I want to dance with a man.

The first song ends and Tab starts into another and I feel a gentle tap on my shoulder, there standing behind me is a bearded bear of a man. His words are drowned in the music but I think he wants to dance. Smiling he takes my hand and leads me on to the dance floor. This bear is quite handsome but it soon becomes clear that he’s so drunk that he isn’t dancing much. He’s just kind of wobbling and watching me with this silly smile. So I begin to dance enough for both of us, I love to dance, I feel so free and the music is carrying me, I couldn’t stop if I wanted to. The song ends and I thank the bear for the dance but decline his invitation to another and go back to my table .

Tab starts to sing about a silver moon, and another guy sneaks up behind me (whats with these guys, shy I guess). He’s kind of nurdy looking but nice and as we start to dance he is really getting into it. Kind of wild, not at all what I expected. I love it there’s so much room on the floor, I’m spinning and moving all over and he follows me with a big grin. The song is ending, he leads me off the floor and back to my table. I’m breathing hard and smiling as I thank him for the dance. He walks away and before I can catch my breath I feel another tap on my shoulder. I turn and a very handsome man, maybe fifties, tall, slim with an artistic look about him ask me to dance. I can’t seem to loose this silly smile on my face, this is fun. The cologne this man is wearing sort of puts me off, but he takes me by the hand to the dance floor and I begin to spin it’s really a sensual experience, as my dress catches the air I can feel it swirling up higher and higher. The cool air blowing around my panties thrills me as I spin. Oh, don’t ever let me stop!

The song ends but we stay for another and another. Finally we sit down and he asks if he can buy me a drink. He’s making for the bar across the room when this really tall, blond, wild looking man comes up and asks if I would like to dance, this one is cute, I would love to dance with him but the other guy has gone off to get me a drink. He smiles and asks if I think the other guy will beat him up just for one dance. Oh Goddess, my scruples are always getting in the way of fun. The man with the drinks comes back and as I sip he leans over and asks my name. It’s so loud he has to get right up to my ear. I like it, but it’s kind of scary. His name is Chuck. He tells me that Sarah was his mothers name (Oh come on, isn’t that about the moldiest line you ever heard?).

In case you didn’t know (as the old song says), “I have a brand new pair of roller skates” and I was really hoping some body would take me home tonight and try out his “key”. I know, I sound like a slut to me too. But I was ready, right up to when he said he had a room in the hotel across the street because his wife had kicked him out tonight. It seems she thought he had pushed his four year old daughter down and hurt her. He said it wasn’t true, he hadn’t pushed her and he began to tell me how they had been together ten years. He was getting closer and he put his arm around me, he was holding my hand and quietly coming on more and more. My body is going for it (slut), but my little hormone soaked brain says this guy’s no good. As horny as I am I can’t do this, I keep thinking about his wife and little girl and what kind of guy would sit here coming on to me after telling me all of that.

Some times it’s a curse having morals. My body would have a lot more fun if my mind would just stay out of it. As if from a distance I hear myself saying thanks for asking but no, not tonight. I should have known when I first smelled his cologne that I wasn’t going to let this guy take me home. First Impressions are usually the clearest.

It’s midnight and I have to work in the morning, I get up to leave and he walks me to my car. We hug and I kiss him on his cheek and tell him to go home and apologize to his family. Some how I can tell he respects me because I didn’t go for his proposition. That’s nice. But here I am, driving home alone to another night in that empty bed. What would I do without my vibrator.


“Class Act”

by
Melanie Anne Phillips

Last semester I returned to college for the first time in 15 years. I had two purposes in coming back after all these years. One, I wanted to take a psychology class to help me understand what the “scientific” community thought of transsexualism and the differences in brain sex. Two, I wanted to “undo” my bad memories of college as a man and replace them with a college experience as a woman.

I did not know how my age might affect my social status, nor was I really sure how to be “one of the girls” in an educational setting. As it turned out, I had nothing to worry about. College these days is filled with people seeking second careers as the job market shrivels, so I was not alone in my bracket. Besides, I’m rather with it for a 40 year old chick (except I keep using dated phrases like “with it”).

Anyway, I felt so much more comfortable this time around than I had before. One girl came over and introduced herself on the first day and we decided to be study partners. She was the first close girlfriend I ever had who did not know my past. We went several places together over the course of the semester: breakfast at IHOP, study sessions, shopping for bras, etc. That’s why it was a tough decision to tell her about my past.

About this time in class, we were studying the nature of relationships. We learned that there is a significant difference between the factors that make a good short term relationship and what is needed to create a long term relationship. In the short term, first impressions are VERY important and very hard to overcome. However, in the long run, a relationship can only survive if the parties make “self disclosure” about all the things, good and bad, that surround their lives. If one wants to take a friendship from casual to close, one must disclose.

I fretted over the decision for weeks, knowing that I would not feel honest and could not let the friendship grow without coming clean. Yet, I did not want to jeapordize my relationship with the first woman to accept me as an equal. Close to the end of the semester, honesty won out. I waited until an appropriate moment, then told her as we walked back to my car, as I was taking her home that day. The way I filled her in was by letting her read two of my psychology assignments in which I had referred to my transition.

For the briefest of moments she was taken aback, but after just a few minutes, it was like I had told her something that brought us even closer. She saw none of the old me and simply felt honored that I had chosen to share with her.

Bolstered by this, I decided to take a chance and share with the entire class – partly for honesty, partly for curiosity, partly to get ready for the expected scrutiny of the press I will experience as a result of the Dramatica software I co-designed, and partly to gather some data that might help others in similar situations.

I approached the teacher, who was also my counselor and therefore already new my past. He said I could have a full class period to lecture on transsexualism. On the appointed day, he began with a brief discussion of human sexuality, then said, “We are fortunate to have with us in this class someone who has gone through the transsexual experience.” Everyone looked around to see who it was. I got up and noted the surprised faces.

I gave a 40 minute presentation to good effect and received many words of praise for my courage, honesty, and success in transition. I had no negative effects after the class, and was involved in many more conversations, with both men and women that I had been for the previous part of the semester.

This experience alone is useful, but I realized at the time that hard data was even more important. So, before I started my presentation, I asked everyone in class to take out a sheet of paper and anonymously put down their feelings as I went through my lecture. At the end of the class, I collected their comments. I reprint here as a guide to what civilians think of transsexuals when forced to confront the issue in an unexpected moment.


“As a human to another human, I admire your openness. I think your intelligence helps carry across your story without shocking the listener. You carry yourself with such confidence that I feel comfortable asking you questions. As you noticed I used the word human. This is because I see you as a person, like me. Therefore your accomplishments mean more to me than your sexuality and I don’t believe you need to “out” yourself unless it makes you feel better”.


“I admire you for doing what you did because you really wanted to and you did! I don’t think any different about you, but its nice that you’re happy. Thank you, Melanie! You should be a guest speaker in many classes. I learned a lot.


“Damn”


“Surprised! NO WAY! I never knew anyone who was a transsexual. I’m glad you didn’t relate to little boys because they turn out (most of the ones I knew) to be jerks! Sorry about generalizing! Honestly, it was scary to hear about it at first. But if you’re happy, that’s great! I want to find out what your name was as a man. You seem so much happier as you talk about the change.”


“I never would have guessed it. It’s amazing how well you took your whole ordeal. You also seem to know so much about the subject of sexuality. Have you ever thought about teaching in a university?”


“There’s a million things going on in my mind, but I’m just completely shocked. I’ve never met anyone that was a transsexual. I don’t know what to say. I never thought that I could accept someone like you, but I do. I give you a lot of credit for doing what you did and what you are doing. Good luck with your life!”


“It’s your choice to do what ever you want, but I was always taught to live with what God gave you. After looking at your pictures, I really don’t believe everything that you are saying. But I wish you happiness and a long, good life.”


“I would never have known that you had gone through transsexual surgery. It is surprising, however, does not change the opinion I have of you from what I have seen. I can’t imagine how difficult this must have been for you. I find it very interesting the feelings you had throughout life. As I sit here and look at you I can’t believe you were a man. I would imagine it is interesting to see how people treated you as a man vs how you are now treated as a woman. I think it’s great that you are happy and feel comfortable sharing your experience with us.”


“I found the lecture very interesting. I find that you’re very comfortable with your new identity and I think that’s great.”


And the professor wrote:

“The students are RIVETED. Interested that you fantasized about being female at age 7. Your presentation is very matter-of-fact, so not so scary or sensationalized. “Picking the birth control pills out of the mayonnaise” really legitimizes your actions – that really shows me the depth. You will be interested in ‘cognitive style mapping’ which is a developing discipline within educational psychology.”


My conclusions, based both on what I learned in theory and what I experienced in fact, is that the more you are comfortable with yourself, the more others will be comfortable with you. As for telling vs. not telling, I think honesty will always win out on the average. As for when to tell, first impressions ARE very important. Don’t wear a sandwich board advertising your change. But when you have grown to know someone and feel the friendship might have long-term potential, then its time to tell. It may blow the whole thing out of the water, but better at the end of a short term relationship than in the middle of a long term one.

So, gather what you can from this experiment in disclosure, and please send in any experiences you have that can guide others to be more secure in their decisions.


Here are the two psych papers I let me friend read in order to share my past with her:

Synthesis Paper #1

As a transsexual, I needed to develop a whole new set of reactions and behaviors that were both socially appropriate to my new role and at the same time true to myself. I soon found that the difficult part was not in changing my actions, but changing the way I organized my thoughts from years of “training” as a male. I decided to employ a combination of Classical Conditioning and Cognitive Learning.

Unlike Pavlov, I could not directly stop the conditions stimulus that led to each conditioned mannish thought and wait for extinction, as I was not aware of the stimulus until after the thought occurred. But I could in each instance identify the stimulus and create a second order conditioned response of a new thought that I cognitively attached directly to the first order stimulus by connecting them together in an association. I would hold or repeat the new thought in contingency with the stimulus (essentially rehearsing the association) until I felt it had set into long-term memory.

Eventually, the new conditioned responses had been experienced more than the old in reference to the same stimuli, and slowly began to supplant them. Over a period of time, my mind adopted an entirely new wet of “appropriate” conditioned responses.

but a real surprise came when I read an article one day about the history of elementary school children visiting the old Griffith Park zoo. The article had pictures of several of the classes from my time in school. I began to look and see if I could find myself in one of the pictures, and then I stopped, amazed at myself. I suddenly realized I had been looking for a little girl.

Apparently, in the process of transferring the connection of stimuli from old Conditioned Responses to new Conditioned Responses, I had also diminished old memory cues and created new ones as well. From one pathway at least, I had experienced cue dependent forgetting in my long-term memory, but more startling than that, I had actually created a new cue pathway to the same memory that altered my understanding of reality. In a sense, I had rewritten my past.


Synthesis Paper #2

As a transsexual, deciding if and when to tell others about my past is an area of much concern. In my first job as a woman, I did not share my background with other employees. I was accepted, but I felt I was lying to them. So at my next job I was upfront with everyone, but they were cold and stilted. However, I could not tell if it was their rejection or my insecurity.

This was one of my major reasons for returning to college after a twenty year absence: to make some new friends as a woman. but just how much could I loosen up and still keep my secret? As I began to relax and be myself, due to the effects behind Skinner’s “Cyrano” study, any non-typical behavior was accepted as Opinion Molecules, and did not influence their assessment of my gender. Also, Solomon Asch’s study of conformity came into play as the tendency toward conformity in the social atmosphere made it unlikely that anyone would mention anything should they suspect. This was aided by the Fundamental Attribution Error, which led them to assign the causes of any oddness in my demeanor to my disposition, not my situation.

To test this, I intentionally lowered my voice farther each day over a one week period in Psychology. I finally saw some curious glances and backed off to my original level. I had reached a MUCH lower voice than I could have with people who did not know me. The Primacy Effect in conjunction with Conformance and Attribution gave me much greater leeway than I would have in a “cold” crowd. These factors all served to support Familiarity as the second most important factor in short term relationships, and allowed me to loosen up a bit in my demeanor.

But I still felt incomplete in that I could not share my first thirty-six years. I determined to discover how important First Impressions truly are by developing some “test” relationships. I began performing at a local coffee house some weeks ago until they got to know me. Last night I delivered a five minute stand-up comedy routine as the “world’s first transsexual comedienne.” The reaction was initially one of startled surprise, but then admiration and comraderie. Best of all, I could be myself and still be accepted. Apparently, the Primacy Effect makes it better to give people a chance to know you first. In addition, because I no longer look, sound, or act like a man, the Recency Effect is diminished when I finally do disclose, as the only Cognitive Dissonance is in their knowledge not their observations.

But what about long term relationships with people I want to have as close friends? By far, the most important factor in a long term relationship is Self Disclosure. This leads me to believe that eventually sharing my past will not only free me to express all that I am, but is a prerequisite to any meaningful relationships to come. Certainly there will be an attrition rate of those who cannot deal with it, but those who remain will truly be my friends.


MELANIE’S WISE WORDS OF THE MONTH

“Speak up an be heard,
or , Shut up and be herd.”
– Wilma Snakestare


USEFUL INFORMATION

Here is a copy of the letter Dr. Biber sends home explaining post-op care:

DISCHARGE INSTRUCTIONS:

Dilate five times a day, 15 to 20 minutes each time, utilizing the pair of rubber dilators provided and as instructed. Space the dilations over the 24 hour period as much as can possibly be done. it is very important to keep the depth in the vagina, especially the first two or three days after discharge. it is very important to utilize plenty of jelly and place the dilator in such a fashion down toward the rectum primarily for a small distance then directly inside into the vagina, without using a screwing motion, because when you use a screwing motion, the ribs on the dilator might harm the new baby skin that is healing in the vaginal cavity. Graduate to a longer dilator between the fourth and fifth week. The easiest place to get a firm dilator is to go down to any adult bookstore and get a plastic dildo, get it the same diameter as the large dilator provided. Approximately 4.5 to 5cm in diameter and get it two inches longer, which will make it about 8 inches in length. Utilize this in a similar fashion as the original dilators and continue the dilation for a period of six months, however when you get to the fifth, sixth month, and everything is staying wide open, you may, with common sense, decrease the number of dilations too. May begin intercourse about the sixth week period. You will be somewhat moist inside, however not moist enough for penetration so it is important in the pre-sexplay period to insert some K-Y jelly and be prepared for penetration. If you do not use the K-Y jelly, you are going to tear yourself up. When beginning intercourse for the first time, take it slow and easy to avoid any damage that difficult and forceful penetration may cause.

We will send you home on Estinyl and Provera. Take the Estinyl one a day and cycle the Provera so that you can take it one a day for one week, perhaps the last week of the month, along with the Estinyl. It will place you essentially in the feminine cycle. We will send you home on urinary and tissue antibiotics and utilize them for a period of ten days. But even more important than the antibiotics is to drink copious amounts of fluids, 10 to 12 glasses a day. You may also drink a couple glasses of cranberry juice a day, which will acidify the urine and take away some of the smell. You may also douche, even once or twice a day because the vagina will present some obnoxious material while healing. You may douche twice a day if you wish with a tablespoon of white vinegar to a quart of warm water, not dark vinegar, but white vinegar.

Do not do any heavy lifting for a period of six weeks. If you have any specific problems, call my office, the office personnel or myself will handle your telephone calls and should be able to answer all your pertinent question. If you have to see a doctor at home for any reason and he doesn’t understand what is going on, please have him call me.

Also, remember that you are specifically female now. You are subject to all female diseases. You can get Trichomonas infections, you can get Yeast infections, and these have to be treated just like any other natural female. It is conceivably possible now that you have a cervix, that you may develop cancer of that cervix, even though we have never seen this happen. However, it is probably very wise once every six months or once every year to get yourself a Pap Smear, to rule out this possibility. Remember you are subject to other diseases as well. Be very careful with your exposes, you can still pick up gonorrhea, you can pick up syphilis, and all the other exotic diseases that females are subject to.

Keep in touch with me, fill out the six month questionnaire in six months, and please send it back, so I can add to our statistical volume and utilize it in our presentations.

Any time you feel like writing, let me know your general status, i.e. financially, socially, what you think about your body image, and what adaption you are making to your new role. I’d be more than happy to hear from you. In other words, keep in touch. Do not let us lose your address. We want to follow you for a considerable period of time. For any other complications that may arise, please call and let us share them with you.

Stanley H. Biber, M.D.


AMERICA ONLINE GENDER GROUP STATISTICS

Contributed by Marsha J, Gender Room Secretary

Attendee Stats as of July 1993

State Listing

AK. 1 AZ. 2 BC. 2 CA. 28
CO. 1 CT. 7 DE. 2 FL. 15
GA. 2 IA. 1 IL. 14 IN. 3
KY. 3 LA. 3 MA. 7 MB. 2
MD. 4 ME. 1 MI. 8 MN. 4
MO. 5 MS. 4 NC. 6 NH. 3
NJ. 8 NM. 4 NV. 1 NY. 8
OH. 8 OK. 2 ON. 1 OR. 4
PA. 6 QU. 1 RI. 1 SC. 1
TN. 1 TX. 14 UT. 1 VA. 6
WA. 5 WI. 4 WV. 2 WY. 1
Not determined 29

236 Attendees total on mailing list

CONGRATULATIONS TO ALL OUR 236 MEMBERS FOR HELPING TO CREATE A SAFE HAVEN OF SUPPORT FOR EVERYONE CONCERNED WITH GENDER ISSUES!!!

                    GENDER CONFERENCE

Don’t forget to attend the Gender Room Meeting on the America Online BBS in the Community Room at 9pm ET every Sunday evening. Use Keyword, GLCF, then select Lambda Lounge or Community Room depending on your version of the software. For specific information, directions, or to order back logs of the chats, Email Marsha J, the Gender Room secretary.


AFTERGLOW

“We”

by
Melanie Anne Phillips

We are gay and bi and straight
and thin and fat and overweight
and sad and proud and smart and dumb:
with many faces do we come.

There is not “them” there is no “us”
Minus is not worse than plus.
Fences are a call to plunder;
Rainbows can’t be cast asunder.

Gender, skin, and Faith and Creed
are how we laugh, and love, and breed.
We are fit and sick in bed,
and we are hobbled, unborn, dead.

For death seeks uniformity
but life springs from diversity.
So mix and match and all be free,
as I am “you” and you are “we”.


“May you never find occasion to say, ‘If only…..'”

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BEST SELLING NEW VIDEO RELEASE!!!!

Copies sold from California to Maine, Chicago to Finland!

“MELANIE SPEAKS!” In this new video, Melanie Anne Phillips explains how she achieved a new voice for her new role. The program provides exercises in Pitch, Resonance, Dynamic Range, Annunciation, Body English, Vocabulary, and Grammar in a step by step fashion that makes it easy for you to develop your own unique feminine voice and vocal patterns. The “secret” is a special exercise that let’s you develop a truly female resonance that you can turn on or off at the drop of a hat. If you have ever been embarrassed by your voice or have contemplated vocal surgery, see this tape first!!!

Subj: Melanie Speaks
Date: 93-06-03 09:10:16 EDT
From: JaniceTV
To: Melanie XX

Yesterday I received my tape. How wonderful. You can’t believe how much that it has helped. I’ve been practicing, and on the phone already I can make myself female. The insights on what is Feminine are worth just as much as the voice info. I’m sure that you have noticed more than most of us the great differences between male and female. It really is quite thought provoking. I have noticed especially the power words that I and other males use. Equally I have noticed the submissiveness of most females. Once you start to notice, its hard to believe that you never heard or saw it before. After seeing your tape and how far that you have come, it makes me wish more and more to be female. However, I have a better understanding of what that means!! I would be hard for me now, and in some ways I like it both ways. The main thing in life is to understand yourself and to be happy. With your help and of others, that is happening for me.

Love,
Janice

Melanie Speaks! – 49 minute educational video ……….. $20.00

Raised by Wolves – A Transsexual Diary
Part One: A Spy In Their Midst………………………………….. $10.00

The entire trilogy is a day by day chronicle of the two and a half year transformation from an outwardly normal husband and father to a complete woman. Part one covers the first day of hormone therapy to the first day of fulltime. Part two begins with fulltime and ends as the last year before surgery begins. Part three counts down to surgery, ending as the train back from surgery pulls into the station. Parts two and three are being edited and will be available soon.

Poems by Melanie Anne………………………………………………$10.00

A collection of poetry and lyrics exploring society and self. Includes all the poems published in The Subversive and many more.

Dry Spell………………………………………………………………….. $10.00

An original sci-fi/thriller screenplay by Melanie Anne, following a woman archaeologist as she struggles to destroy a deadly organism discovered while documenting Native American ruins.

Snowstorm……………………………………………………………….. $10.00

An action/adventure screenplay by Melanie Anne, that crosses the paths of a teenage boy entered in a dangerous cross-country snowmobile race and the ruthless destruction of an entire town by a druglord.

The Day After Christmas……………………………………………… $5.00

A fully illustrated, satire on the threat of nuclear war that follows the destructive activities of “Saint Nuke” on The Day After Christmas.

Dichotomy……………………..30 Minutes, Cassette Album…….. $5.00

12 Original songs by David Michael Phillips, multitrack: keyboard, guitar, vocals.

Tarnished Karma………………..30 Minutes, Cassette Album….. $5.00

10 Original songs by David Michael Phillips, just before embarking on transition. Many of the lyrics pertain to the inner conflicts of gender dysphoria in a disguised manner, as this decision was not public at the time. Multitrack: keyboard, guitar, vocals.

Special offer: Double Album of Dichotomy
and Tarnished Karma on one cassette ……………………………… $7.50


EDITOR’S NOTE: It is my desire to make this publication available free online to all who wish to read it. However, due to copyright laws, any overall license would allow unscrupulous individuals to excerpt portions and use it for their own personal gain. Therefore, should you wish to upload this publication on your BBS or simply generate hardcopies for support groups and friends, please write me about a free license for your specific purpose.

THE SUBVERSIVE

Number 12
August 1993