An unexpected like

The author of this blog “liked” one of my posts, so I duly headed over to their blog to have a read:

Is it Better to be Completely Honest, a Strategic Truth-Teller or an Occasional Liar?

An interesting article for me. When I came out as non-binary, a load of things came out at the same time – a need to change my body to reflect how I felt about it, as well as an admission of some dark sexual fantasies. Over time, bad behaviours and poor attitudes also came out. These admissions nearly broke my marriage, I suppose they still might. However, I suddenly found that I had no verbal or thought filters: I could and would say anything that occurred to me to anyone in range. Sometimes this was funny, but my husband was hurt by the lack of thought going into what I said.

I said a few things that stung and stuck with my husband, and consequently often come up in conversation.

I don’t don’t know what doors this is going to open for me

This left my husband wondering whether he was going to have a marriage when I’d finished my journey of transformation. He wasn’t even sure that I was going to stay, broadly speaking, male: “what else are you going to have chopped off?” he asked. He was already feeling inadequate and vulnerable. This was completely true and accurate statement from me: all the barriers in my mind that I had so carefully constructed and vehemently defended were collapsing.

In some respects, this felt like an explosion had ripped through my mind, not just opening doors, but flattening every wall I’d constructed to protect me from the consequences of my words and actions. My mind was open to many more possibilities of life. I was receptive to ideas I would never have considered before.

This was disturbing for my husband, who had always known me as a reserved and sensible person (or such was the image I liked to project).

like it or lump it

I tried to explain to my husband that my balls were going whether he liked it or not and that I wasn’t in any control of the issue: if they weren’t removed safely by a surgeon, they were going to be removed by myself – or maybe I’d find a cutter. He took this statement of mine to mean that I wasn’t interested in his opinion or how he felt about it. I thought I was, but I don’t think I could have coped with anything he’d said – the one time he did express his anger and concerns I had a major meltdown that saw me in hospital after taking a huge overdose of pain relief while trying to castrate myself.

I hear from friends in my online community the difficulties they have; their dysphoria can reach levels where they are planning on becoming their own surgeons. Partners and friends recoil in horror at the thought and threaten police and the mental health services. Even when the police have carted said friends off or they’ve spent a time in the tender care of the psych nurse, the first thing they do when they get home is resume their attempts to castrate themselves. The only thing that gives any kind of peace to these feelings is knowing that there is a plan that will result in the removal of those horrible growths.

Lacking filters was a blessing and a curse. It was especially useful at work, where I frequently spoke my mind. Fortunately, sex doesn’t come up at work, otherwise I shudder to think what I might have said!

I’ve managed to put a few filters in place now; just enough to give me a moment to think before I say anything and perhaps choose my words a little more carefully and kindly.

I meditate sometimes and I have some “prayers” that I say to help get me into the right space, or when I’m going to engage in a difficult conversation:

God help me to speak from an open heart and listen with an open mind; using words kindly and compassionately, and avoiding cruelty, and hear criticism and new ideas objectively.

Being honest without being brutal

This is my next frontier. I seem to have gotten the hang of being honest – having one’s verbal filters disappear will do that. 

I have two problems, one is that there is so much that I need to say, but my conversations with my husband about our relationship are more important than my need to talk about me self-discovery, although my husband has a gripe that he’s often the last one to find out what I’m thinking.

The other problem is that I don’t think very much before I speak; I need to be honest, yet kind – I am not avoiding cruelty, which is something I try to meditate on. I really don’t want to be one of those horrible people who are “just being honest” and say hideous things.

How do I get the balance between saying what needs to be said, yet saying it in a way that doesn’t damage the listener – or at least doesn’t damage them more than absolutely necessary?

The truth needn’t be traumatic

What is the purpose of being honest?

Cynically, I might quote Mark Twain “if you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything”. Having an appalling memory, this is an immediate advantage!

In truth, I would rather be honest and authentic. A lie means that I am something other than I am – I diminish myself and disrespect my listener, and if I lie to myself then I cannot be true to anyone else.

This above all: to thine own self be true, And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man.

William Shakespeare, Hamlet 1:3

This tells me how to be true to others, but not why. Why is “why” not self-evident?

The “why” is simple now. To be anything other than being true is more uncomfortable that to be untrue – and this type of uncomfortable feeling is a good thing because it tells me that something is wrong. I feel better about myself when I am honest and straightforward, and I am also being respectful to my fellow human being. What better reason can there be?

I have worked hard and gone through much, and put those I love through much, to find my authentic self – I am not going back into my dishonesty box now.