I remember reading that George Burns once said something about when a show got too serious you needed to tap dance for the audience to lighten things up. I think this might be one of those times in my own story. So, I'll tap dance for you a bit, brighten the mood, and show my gratitude for the life I have.
I've always been known as the funny guy - hard to believe if you just go by my writing - but I guess that's how I've dealt with all of the bad stuff over the years. I crack jokes, I make bad puns, I laugh at inappropriate things and at inappropriate times. I like to push the envelope of what's funny and what's potentially offensive. I've always enjoyed a good roast, the insult kind and the beef, as well as a side of mashed metaphors with comedic gravy. I learned the dirtiest jokes in seminary and from pastors. I think the pressure of being responsible for people's spiritual guidance can get the better of any of us. And for all of that I'm thankful.
My family is a never ending source of material. I'm thankful for that on a daily basis. Although I suspect they are not as thankful for this as I am. A story comes to mind of driving to the movies with my wife and then young sons who were aged four and two, and the comedy that followed. I'm not talking about the movie. You see, there are cows everywhere around these parts, and as we went by a pasture each occupant of the car made a noise. I said, "Moo." My wife said, "Moo." The four year old said, "Moo." And then we waited for the two year old, who pausing for a beat, said, "Beep!" It was a moment that solidified his place as the comedian in the family and a disdain by his brother for what appeared to be a distinct lack of intelligence. I suspect it had more to do with his distractibility than IQ, but when the adults laughed, he knew he'd struck gold. He's been the other funny guy ever since. Again, I am eternally grateful for my family.
Life itself is funny. Sometimes it doesn't always seem that way. But our "First World" problems of spilled lattes, lack of paper towels, rotten peaches, data overages, crappy wifi, and furniture that's too big for the spare bedroom are laughable as much as they are depressing. We have millions of things to be thankful for everyday, billions really when we consider that there are more than 6 billion individual journeys going on around us.
But what about being transgender, of having Gender Dysphoria, of being inherently different every day of my life? How am I thankful for that? How I am thankful for being a target of hate and intolerance? What makes it okay to get up in the morning, knowing that I can be attacked simply for being who I am?
It is remarkably easy to be grateful for being transgender. Every day that I get up I am able to live as my authentic self. I am able to live. Were it not for having a diagnosis of Gender Dysphoria, I never would've received the treatment I needed to become the man I am today. There would be no Ari, no spouse, no children, no blog, there would be nothing. But because of who I am, I have all of that and so much more. Including a sense of humor about what it means to walk through this world differently and different.
So, let's end here with an octopus joke:
Most people think an octopus has 8 legs.
Actually, they have 6 legs and 2 arms.
How can you tell which are the arms?
Hit it on the head.
The two that go up to the head when he says “Owwww” are his arms.Anyway...thanks for being on this journey, no matter what.
Be well, love your neighbor as you love yourself, and remember to actually love yourself.
- Ari
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