Prelude

I really couldn’t sleep last night. My brain would not shut down. It wasn’t even gibbering about my broken marriage or the nerves about the day’s meet up. As the modern saying goes “it’s like I have a hundred browser tabs open and some of them are playing music”. I got up about midnight and watched some Absolutely Fabulous, drank some hot milk, and ate a packet of “edibles” (the latter was probably a bad idea, since they were also full of sugar). When I went back to bed I still couldn’t sleep as my head plagued me and I could not get a comfortable temperature to sleep.

At least I woke with the alarm, which means that I got got three hours sleep.

I had already spent time last night trying to work out what to wear. I have to admit that I want these online friends to like the in-real-life me. In the end I have just dressed in a way that’s comfortable to me, yet also fun; it’s pretty much what I would wear on any day off in the summer! If they don’t like me in short jeans a T shirt, they’re not going to be my duty of people!

I have bought them both non-binary badges. I hope they like them!

I ended up rushing to the coach, which has meant that I got too hot and haven’t drink enough. The cafe at the coach station wasn’t open, so there’s been no opportunity so far to rehydrate. The coach has at least been cool, even if it has been a horrible vibrating experience that has left me feeling nauseous. Getting to watch YouTube had made that feeling worse, so I’ve had to pause what I was watching.

The YouTube video was an Abigail Thorne PhilosophyTube about Judith Butler “the most misunderstood philosopher in the world”. I’ll do some work on her sometime: her views are incredibly relevant to me and other non-binaries – hey views are (I believe) deliberately misunderstood by defenders of the binary.

Three Eunuchs

I marched from the coach station to the V&A, where the first was sat (I’ll call him Tacitus), just as they’d promised. Of course I recognised them immediately as my predecessor to Mexico and from whom I have received so much friendship and support. The hug was spontaneous, genuine, and very warm.

The first thing I think I commented on was that they looked just like a normal person, remembering something they’d said about how the everyday life of the castrated is so mundane. We are just people at the end of the day.

We talked a little bit of eunuch business (I’ll share it one day, but for now I am sworn to secrecy), then the third arrived (I’ll call him Sallust). More warm hugs.

I was both the oldest and the youngest! An unusual and pleasant place to find myself.

Inside the V&A there’s a quadrangle with an outdoor cafe. We got some drinks and started talking about recent events and our experiences with health services and their (sometimes very unsavoury and dangerous) alternatives. Each of us had suffered to some extent at the hands of health professionals; I had suffered least (but things are still not resolved).

There was talk of hormones and even a little about erections and orgasms! I had some reassurance that I will start making goo as soon as I get a little bit of T in my system. They were worried that I didn’t have any T (to speak of), but I am kind of happy without it in most ways. I could do with a little more energy, I don’t quite have the focus I used to, and I miss my eunuch goo!

There was some talk of our various university experiences, which the others shared having been to the same uni, I went to Bristol uni and my time there was very different.

I really appreciated that at no point was my short but intense experience trivialised – full recognition was given to me for what I have been through. (I write this and I wonder who can give my husband the recognition for all that I’ve put him through both on this last year and all the time we’ve been together).

Sallust had to return to work (I’d assumed we had them for the day); it was sad to see them go, but I am certain I’ll be seeing them again. Sallust is a very compassionate person with a great deal of life experience.

We have agreed to meet again and we’ll expand the group.

I needed some lunch before I passed out, so I grabbed a salad from the cafe. Tacitus didn’t fancy any food. We sat by the water in the middle of the quadrangle and continued to talk about the project for a bit – making sure that we knew where each was coming from to make for the best possible outcome (sorry for being cryptic).

The conversation with Tacitus switched to an important academic work on slavery (which I must look up!), and it’s implications for the meaning of freedom (it’s essential non-existence) … and what means for people like us.

We did some exploration of how I have felt in my life, how rather than “shame” I have been dealing with “minority stress” – this is an important distinction: my early years were dominated by the church (which specialises in shame), there was Section 28 and the AIDS crisis overshadowing my coming out. Even though my coming out was “easy”, I was still subjected to “minority stress” of being roughed up, fear of being sacked or not able to get a job due to my sexuality, difficulties around securing loans and mortgages, and even though every member of my family accepted me I was nevertheless afraid of rejection and ending up on the streets.

When that is framed with growing up in an alcoholic household where “bad” feelings were routinely suppressed, deflected, or disowned, it is no wonder that I buried my disquiet on own gender identity deep to minimise risk and avoid impossible questions that I had no means of understanding let alone answering.

When that is further placed in context of a complete rejection of non-binary existence by the powers in society, and the difficulties and persecution that “standard” transgender people have to deal with (by which I mean that they at least play along with society’s binary ideals), it was made even more impossible to face my truth.

Around this time in the conversation I became completely overwhelmed. I am not absolutely sure what triggered it. I was shaking and near tears.

I actually, as I write, don’t know what was said for a while – I felt that a whole load of separate things in my brain suddenly clicked into place. I felt drained by it and almost drowning in the feelings that the day was bringing up. But I also felt understood and validated by Tacitus.

As I write, I am minded that one of the people at the Southampton trans group said about the importance of socialisation.

This was why it was so important to see my fellow eunuchs.

For a few hours, despite differences in our stories and our lives, I was in a tiny group of people who, to me, were normal.

I said to Tacitus that I needed a break: my brain was fried. They suggested having a look at the Islamic art. That in itself was a revelation as this person who has so rarely travelled out of the country had such a rich understanding of the nature of Islamic culture and the variations within it. We were able to meet in mental places where my experience of history and Muslim countries intersected with his almost boundless knowledge.

We wandered into the late antique/early middle ages rooms. Here they were truly in their element as the teacher came out with the energy of a puppy – there is a simple joy in being witness to the enthusiasm of another person.

This was a true treat: a private guide to this world!

I did not want the day to end, even though my brain felt like it was dribbling out of my ears.

We parted with a second warm hug.

I feel very emotional – tears are in my eyes as I write this. In the midst of personal disaster, I have had an island full of treasure.

Today was a very important day.

I wish that I could bring my husband on my journey with me. That is what breaks my heart after all of today’s experiences.