Submission by Emma Coleman, TNG reader and first-time contributor.

I had seen previews of Sucker Punch over the last month at theaters and online. It didn’t look appealing — well about as appealing as making vegetarian meatloaf from mulch chippings and transmission fluid.

I’d like to think I know what I like, stand up in my beliefs when the time comes, and love adopting and altering all aspects of my life in order to grow, invite, and welcome others into it. This also applies to any relationships I’m in. Being similar has its grounding benefits, but gets stale; differences are interesting, refreshing and welcomed. My concern is where does that threshold fall where you personally value relationship differences, remaining who you are, and where there is just nothing.

Steph, this woman I recently met, offered to take me to Sucker Punch… [bring on the fork, napkin, and emergency response units].

For a movie this girl wanted to see, she didn’t get it at all. Several times through the movie I responded to her questions because she couldn’t follow it. She just didn’t get the symbolism and metaphors going on. I was shocked by her inability make the connections.

Besides the movie, she is trans (male-to-female). Her spunk, muster and energy is unrivaled to many. I brushed aside her 6-foot efforts to doofily skip along while holding onto my arm and defended my physical and personal space. Normally I would welcome such goofiness and courage, but not that day- [an ice cream cone pressed up against warm radiator].

Over instant message she kept apologizing for her failed efforts. Both of us were a little off and awkward, that was all. I reminded her of my situation. I made it clear where I was and that I did appreciate her efforts earlier that day. I explained that because of my current state it would be difficult for me to be that up-beat, perky, warmer gal I normally am. At this point I feel like I’m a ship that’s run aground in low tide- one hundred gallons of water may seem like a lot of water, but it’s just not enough to get freighter back to sea.

I didn’t have the heart to tell her I wasn’t interested in the movie. Her drive and offer to pay persuaded me. I clearly desired something to fill that now empty space [and I guess it was with a shitty movie]- I wanted to get out and do something, anything; I wanted to get my mind off of past toxic events; I want to move on and move forward. I fear though, that I sold my soul in watching that movie. It’s beyond what I could normally tolerate. I’m trying to take the same open approach as always, but really- Sucker Punch?

I’ve also never considered a relationship with a male-to-female transgendered individual. My comfort is with a gender-queerish lesbian, and have considered a female-to-male transgendered individual. I would not be against a relationship with a male-to-female transgendered individual, but I’m just not sure if it’s right for me. Please understand that I’m not the most feminine Strawberry Shortcake out there; I’d like to think of myself as the soft-queer-butch culmination of Rainbow Brite and He-man. I still struggle with my own personal boundaries and insecurities with femininity and masculinity, and I’m not looking forward to addressing my past and issues with someone new… [the quirky little quirks we have].

It’s been a several weeks since my last relationship ended. How it ended leaves an unsettling feeling, but then again if things didn’t end badly they wouldn’t end at all. I still find myself missing her. Michelle’s aura was unlike anyone I had ever known- goofy, extremely smart, bold, brave, motivated, and stubborn as all Hell. How do you say it – secksy?

For all the positives about Michelle, there were negatives. Her life was very segmented- you were either in or out of it. Towards the end, clearly she did not want me in. The fun activities dwindled to nothingness, and more and more revolved around the TV. [I'm not opposed to excessive TV watching, but I felt it was used as a defensive tool or crutch to restrict and prevent communication]. Conversations shriveled into monologues, which then turned into snappy one way rants and lectures, which then sharpened to short stabs and jabs, and ultimately became exit spats of dusty words drifting through stale air. Sadly, she knew so little of what was going on in my life because she would either change the topic or bluntly state she didn’t want to know right now. It was all about timing; right now became critical because everything revolved around timing and execution.

For the time we dated, if that’s what you want to call it because I’m hesitant to have even called her a girlfriend let alone a friend now, all I ever wanted to do was to hang out- each at a laptop doing our own thing but including each other in our thoughts. Weird how we change.

Last evening I had that moment, but not with Michelle.

I invited Steph over for a crappy dinner and a movie- not a date, just to hang out, and she drove an hour just for that. We spent two hours at my dining table face to face with a laptop in front of each other. She listened to music, watched anime youtube vids and trolled on a few sites posting long argumentative comments. I went through my feedreader catching up on my geeky interests and occupational endeavors listening to NPR clips from my laptop. Occasionally there were moments of silence with no music or video, and sometimes there was conversation about what was being watched, read or thought. We even managed to cram a hurried dinner down between over a clever video she found. All this between Steph’s cigarette breaks.

I felt so distant though. I finally had that evening I’ve always wanted, but it wasn’t with the person I wanted it to be with. My head would get lost switching back and forth thinking Steph was really Michelle. Unsettling, but true. I found myself stepping outside of myself asking “Why couldn’t I have this with Michelle?”

Conversation. Time together. Catching up with each other’s day, showing interest, not waiting for the other person to finish talking so I could interrupt their oration about my day or what I was thinking.

Afterwards we watched a movie. Once again I found myself stepping outside of myself and the situation thinking “Michelle would love this movie. I gotta tell her about this. Wait… she’s … not here- not in my life anymore.”

Panic stricken in my head, thoughts go racing back and forth, and around in destructive circles. What does all this mean? It felt like my head was turning side to side like in the cartoons trying to discern what the little figures on my shoulders were telling me. At one point I thought I was going to pull a Regan and do a 360 with my head [...next comes the vomit and foreign tongue].

I went to bed with a calmness I had not felt for many nights [except for the desire to get Michelle's thoughts on last night's budget outcome]. Even this morning I’m left questioning what this all means. Who am I? What does it mean to be me- watching Sucker Punch; hanging out a person when I’m clearly thinking of someone else; having that evening I always wanted but with someone else? Does driving an hour to hang out with someone mean anything?

How do you move forward when you’re still struggling with remnants? How flexible are you in modifying your life to make room for someone new, someone else? What are your experiences in dating a non-binary gender person? I’m interested in hearing from others.

 

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