Alone . . . such a lonely word
Amanda Farren
So, another Thanksgiving has come and gone. Another Christmas season looms. It’s another Holiday Season in which I will be alone. I never thought it would come to this. Even my move out here to California should have included a very close friend. But, that didn’t happen and I ended up going it alone.
Alone . . . such a lonely word. To some, like me, alone time is needed. Introverts need down time away from people to recharge. However, alone time while being loved is one thing, alone time with zero love is another.
I used to really love the holidays. I think back to days of yore, with an innocent, gleeful anticipation of toys for Christmas. I can still picture sneaking out at 4 a.m. to catch a glimpse of the bounty underneath the warm glow of the Christmas tree lights. That image is seared in my memory forever.
I remember Thanksgivings with my cousins, Aunt and Grandma. From the late ‘70s through the early 2000s, with only a few exceptions, we had our traditional dinner at my parent’s house. There were so many good times, laughs and memories. Those, truly, we’re the Good Ole’ Days.
Today, those warm memories are yellow and faded as the hard, cold present charges forward. At times, those memories give me a smile, other times, they make me feel very sad. I want those times back. I want the love and the warmth back.
Living 3000 miles away from family and good friends is very much a hard pill to swallow for me. I wonder, every day, why I made the trek across this great land on some kind of dream quest. The shine has come off of the apple. The dream has become Fool’s Gold. Now, I remain here, far away from anything I’ve ever known or loved for the first 45 years of my life.
Why do I stay here in The Bay Area? I ask myself that same question nearly every single day. My answer, the temperate weather, the long sunny stretch from Spring to Early Fall, the beautiful, dynamic land, the accepting nature, the resources, the close proximity to surgeons skilled in trans related surgeries. But, it ends there. Everything else, is not so good.
The housing prices are outrageous, the cost of living is much higher, there are a ton of foreigners, more crime and violence, more traffic, more people, more pollution etc. It’s totally not my kind of place. But, the beauty is. I wish I could have experienced this area in the early 20th century, before the boom of the mid century.
I made the choice to come here. I studied up on the area but NOTHING you do can prepare you for the onslaught of humanity. I was instantly overwhelmed but it was tempered by excitement. Now, it’s been 2 years, two years without family of any kind around me, two years with only a handful of friends of varying degrees, two years struggling to make it in retail.
Love and comfort are important to me. Touch from another human being is important to me. Hugs and kisses are important. I get barely any of that. How long will I take this? My body is rebelling with anxiety. It wonders why in the hell we are still subjecting ourselves to the negative stimuli.
Sometimes I miss my old life. Sometimes I even (gasp) miss South Carolina. I miss my ex-partner. I miss my (double gasp) ex-wife. We had a lot of good times together. I just wish I could talk to her. Maybe it would give me a bridge back to those memories. It would be a comfort.
Too much has changed. The present is hard. The present is scary. The present is precarious and unforeseeable. I have heavy decisions to make.
Category: Transgender Body & Soul
About the Author (Author Profile)
I am a transwoman originally from Pittsburgh, PA. I have been living full time for 5 years. I work in retail but am an artist/Graphic Designer and aspiring writer. I tend to address the controversial in my writing. I would love to change the world one article at a time. I moved to The San Francisco Bay Area to start over, again. But recently moved back to the East Coast. The adventure continues...Subscribe
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