I have been curiously watching the changes in my voice and have moments of missing my old voice. I really only miss its ability to sing. I am in that awkward stage of transition where I cannot sing at all. My vocal cords are not working like they used to. This is hard for me – not because I sing for a living but I love to sing while driving showering hiking… and I cant right now. I am considering contacting a colleague of mine (singer/songwriter) who works with trans people find their voices. I think I need that. And the woman is an inspiration to me as well. When we talk I have these fantasies about creating workshops for trans folks to help us all find our authentic expression thru sound and really body too – cuz how we are in our voice is so embedded in how we are in our bodies. So anyways, using me as a guinnea pig while also finding my new vocal expression. Yes I think it is time.
But dancing – that is something else entirely. I went to see Joan Baez in concert last night at this great outdoor venue in Denver. I think I danced all but 2 or three songs. Feeling my body move and dance – wow! Nothing has changed in how I move. I dance like I have always danced however, once again I feel freer. No double D’s bouncing along in front f me. No weight pulling me forward. No energetic hiding of my chest. All the moves felt freer more open. I use my arms a lot in dance as part of the expression. When I raised my arms to the heavens I actually felt my heart open, there was no protection, no hiding, no holding back.
And then the interactions with my fellow dancers felt different. There was this one old (I laugh, he was probably only 10-15 yrs my senior) Grateful Dead looking guy up there with me – grey hair, big beautiful grey beard. Rotund. How to put this into words… historically it was difficult for me to dance openly with men. Not wanting to welcome any sexual misunderstanding or something. I truly loved dancing with him. And I felt the flow of my masculinity and femininity moving thru me, a balanced fluidity. And then there was this young girl, maybe 12 or 13 – shy but with such a light about her. She was watching me dance, curious. I beemed at her a big smile which brought her out to dance. The openness I felt, the ability to let my heart connect with each person I danced with in front of the stage – it was awesome.
I love loving my body. I love inhabiting my skin for the first time in 48+ years. I love loving how I feel when I move, when I am still. I am beyond grateful for the opportunity I have to finally find myself and live openly, strongly, vibrantly the truth of who I am.