When In Rome (you'll be fucked over by Romans)

As a follow up to my last entry I'd like to touch on the repercussions of failed romantic adventures. If you've been reading my blog lately you probably realize I recently have had a demoralizing setback in my personal life. Despite all my cynical bravado, at my core, I still seem to foolishly believe in the all encompassing curative power of true love . . . which can translate into serious disappointment in the real word.

Something I have wrestled with is the conflict between idealistic romantic notions and the accompanying disillusionment that follows heartbreaks. One of my worst fears is to loss the ability to genuinely care for another person. More specifically, though, I worry that, with each subsequent amorous letdown, my view of trans-women will take a more and more negative character.

I know, from other blogs and community message boards, that my fear over this internal trend is not unfounded. It seems that, for many reasons (probably well known to what readers I may have), there is often a vicious cycle of trans-women and men hurting and getting hurt by each other in turn. The net result of this can, often times, be quit ugly.

I (sort of) recently read an advice column, however, that really help put this phenomenon into perspective. In a recent Savage Love (syndicated columnist Dan Savage answered, whom you should Google) answered email by a gay women who was questioning why it seemed as if all gay women were jerks. Dan's answer? If you're a woman, who dates women, when you run into a jerk, the jerk'll be a chick!

I know this seems kinda obvious, but when I read that, a light bulb really went off in my head. Now if I can only try and remember to tell myself that next time a t-girl breaks my heart. . .

- D