What if I was a GUY?

Sometimes you have to wonder "what if". "What if" I grew up in a different time, or a different place? "What if" I hadn't been such a fuck up for all those years? "What if" I had known what I wanted to do 10 years ago?

The real truth is that most of us will never know the answers to those "what if's".

But I know someone who does, and is about to find out yet again.

The Cuz has been getting no joy in her quest for gainful, "normal" employment. Normal meaning not in a gay bar known to be a drug haven with shady owners and questionable employment practices. For those of you out there who don't know, The Cuz is my cousin and roommate. The Cuz also happens to be transgender, living as a woman. No, this does not mean she's had or will have a sex change. This means "chick with a dick", as she puts it. Well, it's pretty obvious that our society hasn't exactly progressed to true equality and tolerance yet given that she's perfectly qualified for and has actually done "normal" jobs previously, gets lots of interviews, and then . . . NOTHING. We've pretty much come to the conclusion that this is due to discrimination, but of course there's no way of proving it.

So after months on end of the search (and I know this must be killing her), she comes out with, "I think I'll try it as a guy." I guess she was thinking this before, but then her dad offered for her to live out where we're from with him for a while for free, and have free use of a reliable car, as long as she had a job out there, and had it as a guy. (He did, however, stipulate that she could, of course, be A on the weekends or for going out whenever, which is a HUGE step on his part considering how homophobic he always has been, which among other clues also leads us to think that he's homosexual, too, but that's a whole other issue . . .) And so tonight she's heading out home for a few days to send out resumes and go to some interviews as G instead of A.

All of which leads me back to "what if's".

What if I was a guy? I wonder what I'd be doing now. I wonder if my personality would be different, and in what ways. I wonder how people would treat me differently.

And of course, I used to think, after years of living by myself, "what if I had to have a roommate again?" I really thought I'd rather die than have to share living space again. But the truth is that I've really enjoyed living with The Cuz. It's not been perfect by any means, we've annoyed each other to no end and been angry with each other and stomped out in huffs and slammed a door or two . . . but I haven't regretted it for one minute and I'd do it all over again in a heartbeat. We got a rare opportunity to know each other better than anyone else, in our worst times when we were stripped bare, down to the core and completely vulnerable. And we still like to just hang out. There's not many people who can go through all that and come out the other side like we have.

So now I find myself wondering, "what if she really leaves?" Part of me is soooooo ready to live alone again, for all the space to be mine, to be able to make coffee naked, to leave the dishes in the sink for an extra day, not to have to share bathroom space and a home telephone line. But there's the other part that I never knew was there that will be sad, too, for a period in our lives that will be over.

I guess the reality is that that period is already over. I feel it. I'm moving forward with my life now that I've got it back on track, and she's making progress in getting hers back on track, too.

My mind still spins with all the "what if's", though. I don't want any more than are necessary. So that's been one of the good things out of all of this shit that's happened the last few years. If the "what if" is something that I have any control over, I'm going to find out.

And if you feel inspired, feel free to leave your "what if's" down in the comments thingie.