A Transgender Allegory: My Yellow Brick Path of Gender Enlightenment
Once you start, you’ll never know where you will wind up*.
Writers note: I admit this not my usual somber discourse on the pains of gender dysphoria and the difficult world of being transgender. Look I needed a break, drank some wine and said “Oh what the hell”. I wrote this a while ago as a series but thought I would consolidate it in a single story. Yes The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum was my muse. Do with this piece as you will but I do suggest that if you read it, a glass of wine (or bottle) is very handy and let me know if it was worth writing. Being silent will only ensure more somber transgender dirges from me. Cheers.
Chapter 1: Psychological House Torn off Its Foundation
My gender journey has lasted a lifetime and in the last five years has taken a right turn into the surreal. I was professionally diagnosed as transgender, essentially wired female prior to birth and then born in a male body.
The more I pondered the implications of this discovery, the more my world began to whirl around me.
Then a strange thing happened.
This strange new sense of reality literally blew my psychological house off its foundation. My house shook so hard that I lost my footing and was thrown to the floor. The house whirled around two or three times and rose slowly through the air. I felt as if I was going up in a balloon.
The north and south winds met where the house stood, and made it the exact center of the emotional tornado. In the middle of the tornado the air felt very still, but the great pressure of the wind on every side of the house raised it up higher and higher, until it was at the very top of the tornado. The tornado then carried me and my house for miles and miles. It continued to spiral out of control until it landed with a bang.
When the house landed, I heard a sudden scream and a thump. As I exited my house of Emotional Turmoil with its paint scheme of black and white, I emerged into a blinding world of color.
It was stunningly glorious! I had no idea where I was but I knew that I definitely wasn’t in my binary Kansas any longer and Toto had totally left the building.
The house landed on top of a strange, black-robed figure. An arm, a leg and a head were exposed. The face looked like a feminized version of Clint Eastwood. In her hand was an odd-looking weapon.
Quietly at first and then with increasing confidence the people slowly emerged from their homes. They and their entire town were all different colors. They saw the body under the house and then looked at me. They immediate started to dance and cheer. I had killed the mean and cruel Binary Witch of the East that had tortured everyone that inhabited this part of the land.
It was the land of the Rainbow People. They wore different colors of the rainbow and you couldn’t tell male from female but you knew that they knew who they were. They were a really happy bunch of people.
I explained to them that I was violently ripped from my home and I just wanted to get back there. They tried to help me but could not think of any way back for me. My house was too big and they couldn’t lift it. They tried anyway because they were so grateful. They even offered to throw we a party to celebrate but I kept repeating that I just wanted to get home.
After a short committee meeting, they all agreed that my wish was beyond their ability to help. I needed the help of the Good Gender Witch Therapist of the North, Molly the Wise. They sent a pure white dove to get her.
She quickly arrived, gliding through the sky inside a bubble constructed of Freudian Confidence. It glistened in the sun and seemed to radiate pure assurance and conviction. Once I saw her, I was certain that in one meeting she would solve all of my problems and send me safely home.
When I shared my “one and done” expectation, she chuckled sweetly at my sincere innocence. With an understanding smile, she then said quietly:
“My dear, your journey has just but begun.”
She then pointed her wand at a strange yellow brick pathway that seemed to start at a narrow point and then spiraled out into a larger and larger one that just continued off beyond the horizon.
She said “My dear, you must start on this path and follow it to where you must go. Along the way,” she continued, “you must process all that you learn along this path, the Path of Gender Enlightenment, until you find your way home. It is the only way.”
With that she re-entered her Freudian bubble and began to gently float away. I yelled back in increasing fear, “How will I know when I have arrived?” She answered “You must process, process, process.” She repeated it over and over again as she disappeared into the clouds, leaving me with the crowd of Rainbow People waving goodbye.
I looked around the crowd in total confusion. The Rainbow Mayor stepped forward through the crowd. In his hands was a Smith & Wesson 44 Magnum, the most powerful bubble gun blower in their world. “I just recovered this from the hands of the dead witch”, he said, “This might be useful to defend yourself against the wicked witches or their evil flying monkeys and it will make your journey on the Path more cheerful.”
I took the bubble gun and squeezed the trigger a few times. He was right. The bubbles did cheer me up a little. The local band started playing a happy little ditty that I thought I recognized as a Peter Allen song and they formed a conga line behind me as we marched along the yellow brick path to the edge of Rainbow Land.
As I started my journey, I turned around for a final wave to the assembled crowd. They seemed so happy and I was so jealous.
So, I was off on the Path of Gender Enlightenment, blowing bubbles in my wake as I continued to sing the lyrics to “I Go to Rio” under my breath wondering where that song came from.
Writer note: I warned you. Continue to read at your own risk.
Chapter 2: The Scarecrow of Gender Confusion
The morning progressed and I tried to “process, process, process” as instructed by the Good Gender Witch Therapist of the North, Molly the Wise, but process what?
At some point I hit an intersection of a half-dozen paths. Along the edge of the intersection was a huge field of corn and dozens of crows ignoring a scarecrow attached to a post while they ate undisturbed.
The scarecrow hung there with a very confused look on his face. A crow was sitting on his head munching on a piece of straw sticking out of the scarecrow’s head. Neither seemed upset as I approached.
With my back to the scarecrow, I stood in the middle of the crossing paths and said to no one in particular, “Which path should I choose?”
A scratchy voice spoke over my shoulder, “Well some people go that way, while others go that way and even a few go this way.” At this point nothing was startling me so a talking scarecrow seemed entirely rational. The crow continued to munch on a piece of straw on his head, studying me closely.
“But which one is the Path of Gender Enlightenment?” I asked.
“Why all of them.” He stated with confident authority.
“But which one should I choose? I responded.
“Why the one that makes the most sense for you. It really doesn’t matter really. You will still wind up in the same place in the end. You will be where you will need to be.”, said the crow who finally decided to join the conversation.
I hated being indecisive but I was totally confused. The scarecrow saw the look on my face and offered, “If you help me down from here, I would be more than happy to help you decide. As you can tell, I am entirely useless where I am.”
The crow on his head nodded in full agreement.
Lifting the scarecrow was easy. The straw weighed so little. As I helped him down, I noticed that there was a bra under his flannel shirt. Wobbly at first, he was able to finally stand.
“Thank you.” he said.” I have been hanging there forever.” He picked pieces of straw off me noting that “you never know when you might need some additional stuffing.”
He stuck them in his bra and noted my new confusion. “When I was made, they decided to use whatever clothing was available, the bra, the flannel shirt and this ripped pair of pants. I know I am a scarecrow but I have never figured out whether I was a boy or a girl. Hanging up there on the post it never seemed to matter.”
The crow still sitting on his/her head added, “It never mattered to me either.”
I looked at the scarecrow and laughed. Now the scarecrow and the crow looked at me confused.
“I have the same problem”, I said. “I am built like a boy but I know I am a girl inside. I think I wound up here to resolve this confusing problem. I am hoping to find the answer as I continue to process, process, process on the Path of Gender Enlightenment.”
He/she asked, “May I walk with you? I need my answer as well and I will never get it here.”
I thought for a moment and realized that other than the bubble shooting gun there wasn’t much to do walking this path alone.
“Absolutely!” I cheerfully responded. “My name is Emma.” And I held out my hand.
“My name is Andi/y. With either a “Y” or an “I”, I was never sure of the spelling, so say it anyway you want.” Andi held out a ball of straw sticking out the sleeve of the shirt and we shook. Andi then pointed to the crow and said, “This is Neverknow.”
Crow waved a wing and said “I am not at all confused. I am a guy and there is no need for me to follow that path. I am definitely staying here.” With that he flew away down one of the paths into another field.
“But,” I said. “I still don’t know which way to go.”
Andi answered, “Well, that’s easy. We just have to follow which way the crow flies,” as he watched Neverknow fly into the distance.
It seemed totally logical for this strange land and I had no better answer. So off we started on our journey of the Path of Gender Enlightenment on a path chosen by a crow named Neverknow. The sun was still shining as I shot a stream of bubbles from .44 Magnum bubble gun, still humming “I Go to Rio”. It was still stuck in my head.
Off to my right I heard Andi suddenly sing along:
“When my baby When my baby smiles at me I go to Rio De Janeiro, my-oh-me-oh I go wild and then I have to do the Samba…”
Andi knew the words. I felt like Humphrey Bogart walking from the airplane hangar with Claude Raines in Casablanca.
I thought to myself, “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.”
Writers Note: OK if you read this second chapter then you either followed my advice about the wine or you are just a glutton for punishment. I am not sure if I have enough wine to continue this story but fortunately the liquor store delivers. Hmmm so does the pizzeria…
(For full disclosure I am not encouraging the excessive use of alcohol. You may choose to substitute chocolates, popcorn or Dancing with Stars reruns to dull the pain.)
Chapter 3: The Tin Person of Gender Neutrality
The morning turned to early afternoon. There was a grove of trees off to the right of the Path of Gender Enlightenment. I heard my stomach growl as I hopped the fence. In a small opening of the trees stood a man, a tin man, although at this point in this strange land, I was not going to draw conclusions. I was learning. Thank you Molly the Wise and the Path of Gender Enlightenment.
The tin person was rusted, frozen in place. As I looked closely, I saw an oiling can in his/her hand. I was able to pry it loose. There was still oil in it. I started to liberally oil his/her joints and finally his/her mouth. I heard slow, deep, creaky sounds as each joint and part started to move.
Finally, the words “Thank you” squeakily escaped from their lips. I continued to pump more oil around. Like the sound of a locomotive finally moving forward and simultaneously letting loose a stream of what sounded like a barely-suppressed series of curses. The tin person was finally able to move every joint.
“Wow that was really painful! I thought I would turn into a pile of rust out here!” exploded from their mouth. “Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou.”, followed next.
Andi had finally made his/her way the long way around the fence. Andi couldn’t jump or climb plus no thumbs to grip. I was still having issues with appropriate pronouns. It was a very gender diverse place and no one seemed to take any issue with any mistakes I made.
“How long have you been out there?”, I asked. “I haven’t a clue”, they responded but I think the last time it rained. I have to never listen to a crow’s weather report.” A snort of indignation issued from the branches above. I had a feeling that Neverknow was close by.
I introduced Andi and asked, “What is your name?”. “Why my name is Harley which means “Wood, clearing, or meadow”. I always liked the name.”
“Hey wait a minute.”, injected Andi, “You know our names, what is yours?”
“I am not entirely sure.”, I said, “I have two, one that I was born with and one I like better. I think that is one of the reasons I am on this path. I need to find out who I truly am or at least who I want to be.”
“Interesting.”, said Harley, “I have always been curious whether I was made a tin man or a tin woman but I have spent a lot of time as I was rusting away realizing I am kind of neutral on the subject. I am simply me.”
That made sense to all of us as we took a moment to think about it. To break the silence, Andi said to me,” So, what name do you want to use?” I simply smiled and said, “Emma”.
They both smiled. They liked the name.
Harley picked up the oil can and declared, “So where are we going?” Andi looked at me and just shrugged and I shrugged back.
“We are on the Path of Gender Enlightenment to try and get Emma home.”, said Andi. “Seems like a great idea”, said Harley.
As the three of us started down the path. There was a loud caw overhead. Neverknow wasn’t going to miss out on this trip after all.
We were now four.
Writers note: This story is the result of a combination of gender dysphoria, pandemic cabin fever and wine. Forgive the continued lapse of sane thought as I drag you along down the road with our new friends.
Chapter 4: The Ugly Apple Orchard
As the four continued their journey on the Path of Gender Enlightenment, the sun was starting to set. My stomach started to grumble. Fortunately, there was an apple orchard on one side of the path and a hay field on the other. Neverknow was sitting on the fence to the hay field. He had obviously decided on where we were staying that night. Andi was delighted with the choice and Harley was just happy to finally be able to sit down for the first time in months.
Just off the road was a perfect pile of hay. We all thought to ourselves, as we threw ourselves on it, “AHHHH.” We were all tired. Andi lay back in the hay and used the opportunity to continue to add even more straw to her bra.
Since I was the only one hungry and this was not the place to start eating talking animals, I was content to walk across the road to gather some of the apples on the ground under an orchard. As I worked, I noticed the trees seemed to twist and to follow me. Being rooted to the ground, it limited their perspective significantly.
They each seemed to have mean faces, and one was even uglier than the others with an unhealthy orange color. He seemed to be in charge. I heard them call him “Donald” something or other. Someone had even carved an obnoxious “T” in his trunk and a few of the others like a monogram.
He pursed his lips and he spoke and stuck out his chin in a caricature of Benito Mussolini.
“Hey Crooz”, he yelled over to another tree that seemed to be able to bend any way he needed, “ever see something so ugly? Do you think it came across the border illegally?”
Crooz seemed to take a moment to decide what answer was in his best interest. His trunk seemed to have less of a backbone center than the others. He looked spineless. He turned to Posie, the tree next to him, for support before he expressed his opinion.
“What do you think Posie?” he said, “are they our kind of people?”
“Absolutely not!” she declared, “Look at IT holding our apples as if IT was one of us”, she said, her voice dripping with undisguised disgust and sarcasm. “You can tell that IT is not a real apple tree! How could IT possibly know what it is like to be us. “It” needs to be removed immediately from our terf.”
“Here! Here!” chimed in a particularly nasty tree called Peersmorthan. “Anyone not an apple tree is a contagion. Non-apple trees are just a massive new fad that needs to die out.”
With that all three trees started throwing apples at me. I noticed Donald wasn’t throwing apples but struck up the Mussolini pose again and shouted, “We need a bigger fence,” as he continued to egg them on from a distance. He was letting others do his dirty work. He seemed pretty cowardly to me.
Dodging and weaving, I retreated from the field ducking under the border fence and onto the Path of Gender Enlightenment. In their ignorance they gave me exactly what I wanted, more apples.
Even though they tasted a little bit bitter, Neverknow and I share a few and I packed the rest for tomorrow.
We walked away on the Path quickly. We wanted to be as far away as we could from the ugliest apple trees we had ever seen. Shooting happy bubbles in our wake.
Writers note: Yep, you guessed right. I crudely abused the names of some anti-LGBTQ people for characters in the ugly apple orchard. Unfortunately, it was a very big orchard filled with many uglier apple trees. I didn’t want to spend too much of our time exploring any more of that foul orchard than necessary.
I hope it shrivels up and dies.
Chapter 5: The Cowardly Lion of Fearful Rejection
In the morning we all awoke from a good night’s sleep. The sun was shining and we were ready to continue our journey on the Path of Gender Enlightenment. Even Neverknow seemed relatively chatty as he mumbled “Good morning” and took flight for something to eat other than apples for breakfast.
Harley got all oiled up, Andi filled out his/her bra even further and I shot some bubbles in the air to set the mood. Neverknow circled overhead cawing happily.
It was a beautiful day. The sun was shining and we all chatted and walked with a sense of group contentment. Throughout the day, shooting what I realized was an endless stream of bubbles (obviously it was a magic gun), we strolled further along the Path.
Around lunchtime, at least by my reckoning since I was the only that ate (Neverknow wasn’t sharing any worms, thankfully), we came upon a structure by the side of the road. It was either a very large well or a very small castle. Echoing from inside we heard a frustrated angry growl followed by a crying wail.
Of course, we went to investigate.
I yelled, “Hello inside!” I was quickly answered with, “Oh thank goodness someone is here to rescue me!” The three of us looked at each other not sure what to do next. Fortunately, Neverknow circled the top of the structure and then landed on Andi’s head.
“It’s a lion sitting on the floor crying,” Neverknow announced.
“Is it ferocious?” I asked, having been to many normal zoos before but here, who knew?
“I’m not sure but it’s mane has lots of ribbons and bows tied in it.” said Neverknow. I wasn’t sure where to begin. It was a thick brick wall surrounding the lion with no way out. My bubble gun was kind of useless at this point. I released some bubbles anyway to try and cheer up the lion inside.
From behind me I heard Harley yell, “Stand back everyone, I got this!” In its hands was a large axe that I hadn’t noticed before. “Hey, lion inside! Stand back from the wall and I will knock some of it down to get you out.”
Harley broke through the wall pretty quickly. Sitting on the floor, surrounded by bricks and cement dust, sat the lion, still sniffling. “Thank you,” he blurted out.
I gave him a hand climbing over the rubble. He finally sat down on the grass as we sat in a semi-circle around him. A slight wind stirred and his mane filled with a rainbow color of the ribbons. His bows danced like a series of kites in flight. I noticed his claws were painted with ruby-red nail polish. They looked like he had on a pair of ruby red shoes.
“How did you ever get in there’, asked Andi. Neverknow had landed on his/her head to hear the answer as well.
“It’s all my fault,” sniffled the lion.
“What do you mean?” said Harley.
“I just never fit in anywhere and people were always making fun of me because I didn’t want to look like other male lions… I just liked to dress like my sisters…” The lion started to tear up again. “I started to build a wall to defend me against everyone. I was tired of being hurt. I was so busy building a wall to protect myself, I didn’t realize that by the time I got done, I was stuck inside. I forgot to build a way out. I wound up building a jail cell that kept me in.”
We all sat there stunned. It was hard to imagine being so afraid that you needed to wall yourself up to hide. All that because those around you won’t let you just be you and just be happy.
I realized that it sounded a lot like me. I built thick walls of gender denial for years. These walls were just more physical.
Neverknow shook his head looking at the lion. “You know she has to come with us,” he declared.
The lion looked up for the first time and said, “He said “she”. Did he mean me?”
“Of course I did,” said Neverknow with authority. “And I said “she” because you are she!”
Andi turned to the lion and asked, “What is your name?”
The lion thought for a moment and then said, “Judy, I always loved that name.”
“Then Judy it is,” stated Andi to everyone’s satisfaction. Judy was just beaming. Her smile was wonderful.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
I said, “We’re on the Path of Gender Enlightenment. We all are a little confused and need some answers.”
“Except me,” added Neverknow, “I am not confused at all! I’m a guy crow. I am just here to keep you all from getting lost.” Then he flew away in a huff.
As everyone started back to the Path, Andi turned to Judy. “By the way, do you happen to know the words to I GO TO RIO?”
“No but isn’t that from the album BOY FROM OZ by Peter Allen?”
“Different album, but I can tell you are going to fit right in with this group.”
I squeezed off a trail of bubbles in support.
Writers note: This journey continues but , hey, only if your want to. It seems I bought more wine than I thought but I have to get more chocolates to keep this going.
Chapter 6: The Wicked Witch of Militant Ignorance and Her Army of Flying Monkeys
It was another beautiful day on the Path. The sun was shining. Birds were chirping and Neverknow was happily soaring above the group.
What could go wrong? (Don’t you hate when you hear that?)
We entered a forest of normal trees that seemed happy we were there, no grumpy orange apple trees, just normal trees that really seemed happy to see us. I pumped some bubbles in greeting. Since the Smith & Wesson .44 Magnum bubble gun blower was magic, the flow of bubbles was endless. I could share as much as I wanted.
As the day progressed, the sun began to set. It became colder, and I noticed the trees were not as friendly at this end of the forest. They weren’t vicious apple trees but they were definitely not pleased to have us around.
As we settled down for the night, we knew instinctively that the surrounding trees would turn hostile if we burned any of the dead wood lying around. I snuggled up between Andi and Judy for warmth. Harley was content to sit watch for us holding the axe for our protection.
It was creepily quiet, the kind of quiet you can feel, where the hairs on the back of your neck start to rise.
I reached for my bubble gun. I wasn’t going down without a fight… such as it was.
We heard the thundering sound of dozens of flapping wings. Then it was silent again, except for a muffled cawing in the trees. There was just enough light to make out that the trees around up were filled with monkeys wearing flapping bat wings. One of the flying monkeys held Neverknow with a hand over his mouth. Harley swung the ax but they stayed out of reach. I held my bubble gun at the ready.
There was a quiet pause between the two groups, then something started to materialize, floating between two trees. With it came an aggressively repugnant odor. A woman’s form took shape with a face so old and wrinkly she reminded me of a nun from my grammar school who liked to whack us with her ruler.
In her right hand was a black-bound leather book. I figured it was her book of spells and incantations like normal witches. I was right.
She took out the book and started to read,” As a witness to and defender of the True and only Binary Truth and the sake of family, morality, simple bathroom decency, I hear by….”
She stopped abruptly and looked in horror down the barrel of the Smith & Wesson 44 Magnum, the most powerful bubble gun blower in the world that I was training on her.
Sounding like a creepy female Terminator, she screamed, “I’ll be back.” In a poof of noxious fumes she and her flying monkeys disappeared. Neverknow flapped his wing to disperse the smell.
“What was that about?” I asked out loud.
There was a stunned silence in the group until Andi spoke up. “I have seen her flying around with her monkeys from time to time but she always left me alone.”
Harley nodded his/her agreement but Judy’s eyes teared up. “She was one of the reasons I built my brick wall,” she said through tears. “She used her flying monkeys to torment me while she screamed, ‘What kind of manly lion are you dressed like a girl! The world would be better off with you dead!’ Her three favorite flying monkeys are Shame the Mean, Guilt the Vicious and Denial the Disappointer. They would circle around me laughing, mocking and spitting. It was endless.”
Andi gave Judy a hug while she continued to cry.
“I don’t understand,” I said. “What did you do to make them angry?”
“Nnnnothing,” Judy stammered between sobs. Harley and I looked at each other with anger.
“This is just not right!” Harley declared as I nodded in agreement.
“But what can we do?” asked Andi, still comforting Judy.
Neverknow once again offered up commonsense. “It sounds like something we should go to the Lizard about.”
“Do you think he could help?” asked Judy.
Harley answered, “Well we won’t know until we try. Fortunately, the Lizard of Id is on the way of the Path of Enlightenment.”
“Don’t you mean the Wizard of OZ?” I asked.
“Who is that?” asked Andi.
“Where is OZ?” asked Harley.
“What is a wizard?” asked Judy.
I just looked at them dumb-founded. Obviously, none of them had ever watched the movie…a-duh, they don’t have movies here. We were definitely off script now.
I shrugged and said forget it. There was no point in opening that can of worms.
We all agreed that we would stop and see the Lizard of Id when we started again in the morning.
Writers note: I was as shocked as you. I thought I was writing a LGBTQ version of the Wizard of Oz. Who knew that the Path of Gender Enlightenment took us past the Lizard of Id. Don’t blame me, the whole Path thing is new to me as well. I also have no clue where this is going…sorry. Time for chocolates and wine…or whatever. OK break time….
Chapter 7: The Lizard of Id
As we exited the forest we came upon a vast lake. In the distance I could see a small island connected to the shore by a stunning bridge of what looked like diamonds. As the sunlight hit them, overlapping rainbows showered us in a magnificent display that shamed any fireworks display I have ever seen.
We were all stunned. I turned and saw Judy had donned a dramatic red pair of sunglasses against the bright light. I was so jealous. She was the fashionable one of the group.
As we approached the bridge, I realized it was just high enough to skim across the water without getting your feet wet. On either side, a series of different colored frog sat on lily pads as if they were in deep meditation. They croaked a monotone that sounded like a long-breathed “IIIIIIIIIIIIIIDDDDDDDDD,” as we passed.
Ok, now I got it. That’s where they got the “ID” from. I really missed the “OZ” connection but, hey, I am not writing this story.
I caught a whiff of incense as we stepped on to the island of Id. It felt totally quiet aside from soft chimes filling the breeze. No one seemed upset when we entered. I sensed serenity immediately.
We were greeted by a stunning heron that was, of course, a colorful blue hue.
“We have been waiting for you”, the heron calmly announced. That startled me until I saw Neverknow perched on a branch behind the heron, which put my mind at ease. I had enough issues without becoming paranoid that we were being secretly watched.
As we walked behind the heron, I noticed all the colors we saw were refracted sunlight playing through facets of crystal walls. The island wasn’t crowded, and I was again struck by a deep tranquility shared by all the creatures we passed.
After a brief walk, we reached the home of the Lizard of Id. I had no clue what to expect, but I was getting used to that feeling.
The house had splashes of colors with no particular pattern other than a riotous celebration of freedom without form. You were able to make of it whatever you wanted it to be.
As we entered, A voice called out, “Emma, Andi, Harley and Judy! How nice of you to visit me on your journey.” Clearly Neverknow had been here already.
We heard a voice but we couldn’t see the Lizard.
“Oh, my apologies! I forgot that you can’t see me because I blend with everything. I was fortunate to be born a chameleon bearded dragon as well as an amphibian. I blend in everywhere and you can call me Basil or Bella depending on the temperature or your desire. Either is always fine with me.”
Basil or Bela? How? It would be very impolite to investigate Basil’s genitalia. That would be massively impolite. I was not, after all, like some talk show hosts who have no restraint challenging someones gender in public.
Basil shifted slightly to the left and caught some refracted light. He materialized right in front of us. He was a trim six feet tall with large emerald eyes. His face was a perfect balance of intelligence with a hint of humor.
“Please sit down,” Basil offered. There was a table with seven chairs and an elegant bird stand for Neverknow. As we sat, Basil said, “Would you all like some tea? We have all kinds but my favorite is the local Id green. It both quenches the thirst and is a satisfying meal in one.”
We all nodded in agreement. The green tea sounded perfect, particularly as I was tired of eating the sour apples that had been thrown at us.
“I am always glad to have visitors,” started Basil as the tea arrived, carried by the heron we had met earlier.
“Tell me, what do you hope to learn on your journey on the Path of Enlightenment?” inquired Basil.
My face must have given away my confusion at the question. Basil turned to me and asked, “Emma you seem perplexed. Did I say something wrong?”
“Absolutely not Basil. It’s just that I thought you would be able to tell me why I am here and why Molly the Wise would send me down the Path of Enlightenment. I thought you ruled Id.”
Basil let out a loud laugh that made his eyes twinkle in the sunlight. “I apologize for laughing at your confusion, it just struck me as such an odd assumption. I am definitely not in charge of Id. In fact, I don’t know that being really is. We are sort of a chaotic association of diverse creatures that interact as they choose or not choose. I could never rule this group!”
“But I thought you would have all my answers,” I sighed, disappointed.
Basil leaned forward and took my hand. His eyes reflected his sympathy as he responded, “I don’t have the answers, I am just a lizard. It seems to me that you have a lot more walking to do on the Path of Enlightenment.”
I nodded and said, “Well, we are definitely not in the land of Oz.”
Basil sat back and asked, “Interesting. Can you tell me about this land called Oz?” I could see that everyone, including Nevermore, was leaning forward to hear my story.
I spent the rest of the afternoon pleasantly relating the story of the Wizard of Oz to my friends and my host. Even the heron listened silently.
As I ended the story, Basil said, “What an odd place, but I can understand your confusion. Other than your unfortunate accident with your house, we rarely go about melting witches. They can be a nuisance, but easily enough ignored.”
Then his tone turned brisk. “You are all welcome to stay the night before you continue your journey tomorrow. We have rooms ready for you all.”
We, of course, accepted his offer. It had been a long day. Before I went, I turned to Basil and asked, “Why did the Wicked Witch of Militantly Ignorant run away when I showed her my bubble gun?”
Basil glanced down at my Smith & Wesson 44 Magnum bubble gun blower.
He laughed and said, “Of course she would run away. If the bubbles strike her, the power of her ignorance would diminish. Each bubble is an undeniable fact. If you are militantly ignorant truth is the last thing you want to touch. Unfortunately, if she can escape, her massive ignorance re-asserts itself. I don’t worry about her because once you lose your ignorance, it permanently protects you from their influence.”
That really made sense, and with that we wearily made our way to our rooms, wishing all a good night.
Writers Note 1: Just for clarity and just the slight tinge of some real facts, many lizards can change color. Basil/Bella, not only being a color-changing chameleon but also is an Australian bearded dragon which gives he/she the ability to switch from having its sex determined by genes to having it determined by temperature. I personally love the idea, and living in a temperate climate would be perfect. I could change my gender with the seasons or vacation in Miami or Reykjavik depending on my mood.
Writers note 2: I really liked the Lizard of Id. I am jealous of the ability to be who you want to be with ease and confidence, knowing that you are respected and accepted, regardless of what you present and who you are.
Chapter 8: A Lion and a Thorn and a New Friend
We had a very casual start to the day. Basil was an excellent host and made sure that we had plenty of his special green tea. I wouldn’t be hungry for days, and he insisted on properly disposing of the remaining bitter apples, treating them like nuclear waste.
“I want to make sure that none of these seeds ever grows into one of the malignant trees you described.” I happily complied.
As we crossed the bridge back to the Path of Gender Enlightenment, I blew a huge string of celebratory bubbles to salute our wonderful host, or was it hostess, given the coolness of the morning? It didn’t matter to me or anyone else.
I was learning, Andi was filling out his/her bra looking confident, Harley moved in a non-binary way with confidence and grace, Judy looked radiant and happy just being herself — and Neverknow, well Neverknow was just Neverknow.
As we continued on down the Path, we passed under a tree, we heard a “What’s Up?” from a pair of legs dangling from one of the trees. The leaves hid the rest. “What’s up with you?” I said.
The legs rotated out of sight and an upside-down head replaced them. “Not much” came a muffled response followed by an excellent one-and-a-half somersault with an excellent landing in front of us. We applauded the performance.
In front of us stood a person (see I am learning) of moderate height wearing overalls, a white striped t-shirt striped in orange and pink, and a pair of scruffy work boots. The hair was a little wild, but the smile was genuine.
A deep bow was quickly followed by, “My name is Sam.”, which was then followed by hearty handshakes. We all introduced ourselves.
“Why are you all walking the road?” Sam asked.
After we told our stories, she smiled ear to ear. “I have been walking this road alone for a while. Some people don’t like my company.”
“Why not?” asked Judy.
“Because I prefer the company of women, nothing against you all, and that makes people uncomfortable because I’m a woman too.”
We looked at each other, smiled and said as a group, “Please join us!”
“I think I will”, she cheerfully responded.
As we casually continued our stroll, Judy wandered off the Path of Gender Enlightenment to pick some flowers. Then she let out a yell of pain and went crashing to the ground holding her paw and crying huge tears. Sam was the first one on the spot. Pulling out a handkerchief to dry Judy’s tears, she held up her paw.
A large thorn was sticking in it. Without any warning, Sam pulled it out and used the tear-stained handkerchief to cover the wound. When he helped Judy up off the ground, she threw her arms around him and gave him such a large hug I noticed his eyes bulge a bit.
“There, there Judy”, Sam said, “why don’t you just hold on to me and I will help you walk a spell.”
Judy’s eyes welled up again and said, “That would be wonderful! No one has ever been there for me until I met all of you. I have been so afraid and lonely!”
All of our eyes welled up in unison. We had all felt that way at one time or another. We felt her pain.
Writer note: Damn the wine and hormone therapy. I have to break to get a tissue.
Chapter 9: The Attack of the Flying Monkeys
It was another beautiful day in the Land of Id as we continued our journey. (You know I am setting you up again, right? But you knew that all ready from the chapter title.)
The Path of Gender Enlightenment continued to run straight and true. I started my day with the green tea that Basil, or was it Bella, gave to me, and I felt great. We all were in excellent moods. As we walked, rolling hills with brilliant green grass undulated in a gentle breeze. the sun was happily shining.
The attack was sudden.
Flying monkeys swooped down and threw pine cones at us then swooped away to start another attack. The pine cones weren’t deadly, but they did sting.
Andi was having a tough time pulling the pine cones out of her lengths of straw and started to look like a Christmas tree with a bra sticking out. She overdid the bra stuffing days earlier, but we respectfully refrained from mentioning. It made her happy so who were we to judge?
Neverknow the crow flew about in the thick of it, attacking any flying monkey he could while he dodged and weaved around pine cones.
Judy had curled up into a defensive ball on the ground crying as the pine cones bounced off her fur. Harley rushed to her rescue and stood over her while he swung his ax in defense. The pine cones bounced harmlessly off his tin body, but every impact sounded like a large kettle drum.
Sam grabbed a bunch of pine cones on the ground and initiated his own attack on the flying monkeys and scored some significant hits for our side.
The Wicked Witch of Militantly Ignorant floated behind the attacking flying monkeys screeching, “That’s it. Hit every one of them. Drive them from our land. Keep them out of our bathrooms. Keep them from infecting our children with their disease. Push them back into the closet. They are an abomination and must be eliminated!!!”
She started to scream even more offensive things, which really got to me.
I pulled out the only weapon I had. Yep, my trustee Smith & Wesson 44 Magnum, the most powerful bubble gun blower in the world. And I let loose with a massive flurry of bubbles.
Then something totally unpredictable happened.
Every time a bubble hit one of the flying monkeys, they softly fell to the ground and turned into cute little puppies. Soon we had a field of adorable puppies frolicking all over.
“Look what you did to my Flying Monkeys!” screamed the Wicked Witch. “You will pay for this!” She started diving right at me. I took aim and squeezed hard, meeting her attack with a steady stream of bubbles.
She was just about to strike me with her broom when a huge bubble popped on her nose.
It took her entirely by surprise. She shimmered and glowed. Her gown turned a light purple and her face softened into a warm smile. She looked around as if seeing for the first time. “Look at all of these cute puppies!”
She knelt in the grass and the puppies attacked by licking her face while she giggled and laughed.
We all looked at each other stunned and laughed with her.
Our greatest fears had melted away, and our greatest enemy, hateful ignorance, was no longer. The Lizard of Id had told us bubbles would temporarily neutralize her evil powers, but we never expected all this.
We played with the puppies and rolled around on the grass, but soon started to worry. We didn’t know how long “temporary” would be.
We scooted some of the puppies back onto the field, and I shot some extra bubbles for them to play with. I aimed an additional dose at the Witch for good measure. She just giggled and laughed.
We decided to take advantage of the moment and get back on the Path. There seemed there was more for us to walk and we figured it was safer now to continue.
Writer note: Now who doesn’t love a field full of puppies? It would have been useful to have had the bubble gun on January 6 in Washington. Congress would have been filled with puppies.
The Path of Gender Enlightenment Curls to an End
As we continued to walk the Path of Gender Enlightenment, we noticed the Path started to narrow and the fields around us began to fill with flowers of all different colors. Suddenly, the Path ended in a swirl of rainbow colors as it turned onto itself — much like it had spiraled out at the beginning of my journey. We could see the swirl was joined by a multitude of other paths from all different directions.
Andi was right from the beginning; it made no difference what path you took, you would wind up in the same place.
We smiled at each other in recognition of what we achieved together. This was our moment. We all sat on the edges of the rainbow circle facing each other. Our smiles radiated the warm affection and friendship we had discovered together on the Road of Gender Enlightenment. No words were said because our eyes said everything.
We sat together under that warm afternoon sun.
Emma, a confused biological male with major hints of gender dysphoria and the female soul inside. Andi, an androgynous scarecrow who looked damn good in a bra. Neverknow, an opinionated cisgender male crow. Harley, a physically non-gendered tin person with a potentially bisexual focus. Judy, a definitely feminine male lion with cross-dressing interests. Sam, a tough lesbian with a great heart.
All of us were just content to be among friends who understood, accepted and cared for each other with no restraint, just a shared affection and a simple bond.
I would even call it love.
It was perfect.
We didn’t know what came next, but for each of us this was enough for now.
A voice behind us caught our attention. Neverknow looked frustrated and undecided, then blurted out, “OK, I may be cisgender but I am not straight either, dammit. I am attracted to other guy crows. Now are you all happy?”
We all looked at each other and burst out laughing. Neverknow seemed flustered but I could swear I detected a smile… if crows can smile. I even heard him laugh with us.
We congratulated ourselves for making it to the end of the Path of Gender Enlightenment and then sadly realized that we would all go our separate ways. That is always the sad part of a journey with friends, when it is over there is a sense of loss.
But we had learned a lot and even with Neverknow we learned that you never know, so be prepared and be flexible. The world isn’t linear, and that makes life so much more exciting.
What will we do tomorrow, we all thought quietly to ourselves.
Andi seemed to read our minds and answered, “Why let’s start another journey, of course! There are a million choices and so many paths to follow from here.”
Andi was right. All that mattered was, we were together.
I shot a cloud of bubbles into the air, in a celebration that showered us with rainbows in the warm afternoon sun.
We were all happy.
THE END
Emma Holiday
Writers note: I hope you enjoyed the journey as much as I did writing it. It was as disjointed and as varied as my thoughts are right now. I have learned a lot on my own journey. I have come to respect the rainbow of experiences that others have shared with me. I know that my own journey is far from over and it is exciting to continue onward.
Who knows it might inspire more stories from the Land of Id.
My writing has three specific goals:
1. Writing is my therapy. I have a very limited outlet for my thoughts so I write to find a way to process the most profound experience in my life. I need to understand and I need to accept myself to move forward.
2. Being transgender, for me, is a very lonely existence and if I can share some of the things that I feel and think as I go through the process of transitioning with others who are transgender and, in some way, lessen their pain and sense of loneliness, then all of this public exposure of my personal thoughts is not a waste.
3. I write to help cisgender people understand that all trans people want is to be simply understood, accepted and treated as a normal person. We are.
Thank you once again for reading my work.
*Final writers note (I promise): I am declaring this entire piece as copyrighted by me. It started as a series on Feb 28, 2021 under the name Emma Holiday as first published in Prism &Pen in Medium.com
