More of My Story

Hello out there,

I have some more about myself that I’d like to share with you all today. I talked about most of this in a recent interview I had with Nour Negm but decided I might as well write it all down too.

I live in southern California with 10 others, all family. Most of who live here, are my brother’s kids or his girlfriend’s kids. They have 6.

I have to admit, living with all these people has been pretty hectic. The house is seldomly quiet, but luckily, I have my trusty headphones to block out the noise.

When writing, there’s usually a pivotal moment in a character’s life. I had mine in 2003.

2003 was such a life-changing year. There was both good and bad that happened. I got in a 70 mph car accident where someone hit me, and the hood popped up, so I couldn’t see. The car was totaled and my back has never been the same since. I’m not disabled, but I do get back spasms every once in a while though.

Later in the year, my best friend got married. I was a part of the wedding. It was a bittersweet occasion because my best friend’s fiance had cancer. The wedding went well and they seemed so very happy. After everyone went home a week later, his wife died.

My friend was heartbroken. As his mental stability wavered into the dangerously unhealthy I dropped everything and moved in with him.

He lives in northern California but used to live down in southern California. He, my brother, and I grew up and did everything together. When he needed someone it wasn’t even a thought, just an action. I needed to be there to help my friend.

We spent the better part of a month together. We talked a lot about his kid. I tried to drive home the point that he still had so much to live for and it worked.

I admit that while I was being selfless there was another part of me that was horrified. The car accident from earlier that year scared the heck out of me. Then my friend’s wife dying sort of cemented the idea that I am very much mortal.

I used these fears as a sort of propellant. You see, I was born male. I’d spent years ignoring a part of myself that I couldn’t face. With all that had happened, I finally decided to face it.

While living with my friend, I took to google. I learned as much about myself and my condition as I could. When I finally felt my best friend was stable, I let go and went back to southern California.

I immediately made a ton of life changes.

But then 2003 struck again. Two people invaded our home and shot my brother with three of his friends. Luckily, everyone lived. That horrific night further propelled me forward with my transition. On a side, positive note, my best friend (the one in northern California) came to live with us for a while.

A year later I started working at Wendy’s. Then I met someone. She and I dated for three years. I told her about my condition and she seemed okay with it. We moved out and were stable for about two years.

The pills I was taking started to change me. My girlfriend then decided to cheat on me. I found out because she forgot her phone in the bathroom and I looked in it. I found she was sending pictures to someone else. (Naked ones.) I went into the bedroom and wrote her a note. I gave her the note and the phone and walked out of the house. I then got in my car and drove away.

She somehow convinced me to come back. There was too much damage, though, because a year later we broke up. As a vicious parting gift she outed me to my parents, telling them I held a secret.

To say that I was a little messed up is an extreme understatement. I still haven’t fully recovered from the ordeal and it’s been over 10 years.

I transitioned with the help of my parents. They are my lifeline. I’ve had severe problems with leaving the house due to anxiety and depression.

Then as I was beginning to emerge from my shell, 2016 happened. Suddenly people like me were in the spotlight. I wanted nothing to do with any of it.

I hid for another two years. Then in late 2018, I found a lump on my right breast. It took three months to get an appointment to get tests done. During that time I fell into a deep depression. I didn’t tell my family about it. I internalized it all. As I was reading my favorite online story, I realized that I should start writing my own story.

I had the biopsy and began writing in January of last year. It took three more months of waiting to get the results from the biopsy. A week or two before I got the results, I told my mom about what I’d found. She was concerned and I asked her to tell everyone else because I couldn’t. Everyone ended up supporting me. It was wonderful to have such support. The tests came back benign.

Everyone was happy except for me. I felt guilty. Why was I spared when someone so much more kind and deserving like my best friend’s wife had to die? It didn’t make sense.

Time doesn’t wait for anyone, though, and I still had a story to get out. Three months after that, I finished the first draft of my book.

I went another direction, choosing to change the main character to a 13-year-old child, living in LA. My brother’s kids were around that age at the time, so I got a lot of input from them about the current trends, etc.

I also started making short films with a group I found online. It was tough on me to step out of my comfort zone, but my therapist helped me through it.

My feet then started acting up in a big way. If I walk for more than 20 minutes outside, the outside of them become inflamed and I have trouble walking for several days until I correct it. I have to basically hold my toes up until whatever is causing the pain starts to loosen up.

I’m seeing a foot doctor for this and hopefully, they will figure out what’s wrong.

Anyway, I’ve taken up way too much of everyone’s time. Thank you for listening to me.

Katherine