Interview with Fran Fried - Part 5

Monika: You mentioned your inner battles. How have your personal struggles impacted the writing process?

Fran: My big problem has been the Battle of Myself. It’s been that way my whole life. But even at my lowest self-esteem, I knew that I could write, could do a great job at it, and did. The job (and jobless) situation changed all that. When you’ve done a very good job wherever you’ve worked all your life, and you send out hundreds upon hundreds of résumés (all letters handcrafted, none the same), and 99.9 percent of the time you don’t even get the decency of even a “You suck,” that takes a lot out of you. At least it did for me. Writing under those conditions made everything feel heavier, like each word had to fight its way out.

Monika: That sounds emotionally exhausting. Did the rejection and life stress ever make you question whether the book was worth continuing?

Fran: Sure, I know that some places are inhuman, literally; at some companies and colleges, computers, not people, read job applications, and there’s that near-impossible-to-prove age discrimination as well. But at a certain point, I began to think, “Maybe I really do suck that badly!” The constant grind of being ignored, along with the constant economic fight, plus my parents’ illnesses, led to a lot of stress and depression (and I thought my first hormone shot cleared up 35 years of it!), very prolonged feelings of uselessness and worthlessness and just plain failure. I stopped keeping notes for the book, if no one wants to read what I have to offer, who the hell would read a book if I wrote it? The inner Peggy Lee said, “Oh, no, I’m not ready for that final disappointment!” Sometimes, the silence from the outside world echoes so loudly it drowns out your own belief in yourself.

Monika: That’s incredibly raw and honest. How did you find your way back to believing in the book again?

Fran: In the process, and I just realized this earlier this year, I somehow, gradually, unlearned all the good things I learned in the transition. I’ve had to re-teach myself the things I told myself when I first plunged into it. I’m having to learn to internalize them again. It’s a slow and steady process. But I’m trying to treat myself with the same compassion I’ve extended to others over the years.

Monika: What pushed you to finally recommit to the project?

Fran: Now I think I’m ready. I’ve finally (!!!) found a logical place to end the book. That, and the possibility of some big things happening (amidst the darkness, I keep thinking something good has to happen!), have re-energized me. So has the realization that I just turned 56, and I should get this thing finished before I’m too old. Now I have to tackle one hell of a mess, I have over a thousand pages of journal-like entries that I have to pore through and condense, hundreds of Facebook posts, a few dozen gender-related blog posts, and re-creations of events I didn’t write down because I was so deep into the darkness. Despite everything, I know there’s a story in there worth telling, not just for others, but for myself.

Monika: We often hear about how love shapes us in different ways. What role has love played in your life?

Fran: If you’re talking about love in the platonic sense, it’s been extremely important. The love I’ve been shown by strangers as well as some of the people closest to me has been what’s kept me afloat during my most turbulent times. They have no idea how much they’ve helped me, and how they kept me from driving out to the ocean and walking in at times, especially in California. Love is important in so many of our lives, and this is how it’s manifested itself in mine. A lot of times, and maybe this was the way I was brought up, I don’t feel as if I deserve it. But when you’re given it anyway, it’s both humbling and lifesaving.

Monika: And what about romantic love, has that part of your life been fulfilling or complicated?

Fran: If you’re talking about romantic love, at this point it’s nonexistent. I haven’t had a first date in about 15 years, or just over six years before my epiphany. It’s tricky. I’m looking for a non-trans woman primarily, same as I did pre-transition, though if it were the right chemistry, I'd be open to another trans woman as well. People like who they like and love who they love, I guess. My dearest friend was my girlfriend for four years half a lifetime ago. We still love each other dearly, she’s family to me, but, among other things, she prefers guys. Love, for me, has often lived more in memory and imagination than in real-time romance. 

Monika: Have you ever considered taking more initiative in love, or do you feel more comfortable waiting for someone to make the first move?

Fran: I know plenty of women who are bright and attractive, but most of them have boyfriends or husbands, or they like guys, so that’s a non-starter. And if I made the first move, I’d feel as if I were violating a code of sorts. My friends accepted me into the club right away, no questions asked. The last thing I’d want to do, if I were interested, is make them uncomfortable, make them feel as if I were hitting on them like some guy in a bar. I guess I have to, at least in this case, be the traditional, old-school girl and let someone show an interest in me. And I’m not doing online personals, too many risks. Maybe there’s a sugar mama out there? I say that half-jokingly. Still, I do wonder if the universe has one last surprise for me in that department.

Monika: What are your current goals or ambitions, are you pursuing anything new these days, creatively or professionally?

Fran: I’m actually trying to just get hired at a full-time job where I can both make an impact and be paid like a real human being. As I said before, at some point something has to stick. Maybe something happens out of the blue; who knows? It’s frustrating at times, but I keep pushing forward because giving up has never been my style.

Monika: And beyond the job hunt, are there any long-term dreams you're still holding onto or hoping to explore?

Fran: My pipe-dream list includes politics, an acting career (while trans people are a hot commodity), going back to school to get a master’s in American history, maybe recording an album, maybe having my radio show catch fire and build a huge following. We Geminis want to do everything, you know? :) On the whole, though, I’d like to be known as a good soul who cares a lot about the world and is constantly trying to find a place where I can best use my good qualities. I believe that even a little light can go a long way if you're shining it in the right direction.

Monika: What would you say to transgender girls who are currently grappling with gender dysphoria and searching for hope in difficult moments?

Fran: I can’t speak to all trans girls, again, we’re all from different backgrounds and face varying levels of support and prejudice. But I certainly hope and pray that everyone can experience great joy and little pain from being themselves. I hope they can find their inner strength and their sense of self-worth in all this. Transition is, indeed, a journey. And like any journey, it takes time, missteps, and faith in your own direction.

Monika: When things feel overwhelming, what message would you want them to hold onto?

Fran: I’d like to say, if one of you is struggling mightily with your dysphoria, please hold on and stick around. I know that’s much, much easier said than done, but don’t let the bastards get you down to the point where you actually believe them. Transition is all about embracing change; use your transition to change your situation to something closer to what you envision. Don’t let others define your path or distort your truth. And there are more of us, and people who support us, than you can imagine. Even on your worst days, you’re not truly alone.

Monika: What helped you personally during your lowest points?

Fran: At my worst points, one of the things that kept me going was this: I’m a pinball fiend (I’ve been one since adolescence), and I’ve always wanted to stick around to put another ball in play. That became a metaphor in my life, even at my worst, I stuck around to put a ball in play the next day. I won’t say “It gets better” or anything cliché like that, how does anyone guarantee that?, but one of the good things about living is the mystery of it all, the possibility that things might shift for the better tomorrow. They could be worse, true, but they certainly could turn out a lot better, too. Keep playing. The game will end soon enough. Stick around ’til the finish. You might be pleasantly surprised. And who knows? That next ball might just be your high score.

Monika: My pen friend Gina Grahame wrote to me once that we should not limit our potential because of how we were born or by what we see other transsexuals and transgender people doing. Our dreams should not end on an operating table; that’s where they begin. Do you agree with this?

Fran: I didn’t end up in an operating room as part of my transition, and I started living my dreams long before the transition. Post-transition, and post-job upheaval, and post-50, I’ve had to work on digging deeper amidst my dark periods, finding dreams to follow now that I’ve done the things I dreamed of in my youth. Gina is absolutely right, we should never limit our own potential, period, and yes, I now realize I did just that when I gave up on my writing ambitions amidst the job turmoil. And we should never be limited by our transitions. 

I can’t speak for anyone but myself, and again, I know there are trans people who’ve had much more difficult roads than I’ve had, but in my case, being totally honest with myself and my identity has expanded my potential to some extent. That’s where the liberation has come in, the truth has set me free, and all that. Every day since has brought small awakenings I never would’ve known otherwise.

Monika: How do you define pride, especially within the LGBTQI experience?

Fran: It ties into something I found to be self-evident early on. While I totally understand the reason for Pride parades, and I marched in the ones in Fresno and San Francisco, I have a hard time with the word “pride” as it pertains to LGBTQI. You can’t be proud of the way you were born, gender identity, sexual identity, ethnicity, skin color, hair color, eye color, hand dominance, whatever, because you didn’t have a choice; it’s how you came out of the womb. 

The pride comes from what you do with the hand you’re dealt. And I keep pushing on in the hope that one day I’ll have a winning hand, and that I’ll have done something for which I can truly be proud. To me, pride is a verb, something you actively live, not something you passively wear.
Monika: Fran, thank you for the interview! 
Fran: No, thank you for including me in your blog and for doing what you do!

All the photos: courtesy of Fran Fried.

© 2017 - Monika Kowalska