Very quickly I lost sight of the woman who was emerging, and she was hijacked willingly by a smooth talking, good-looking boy. I was forty years old at the time, and here was this young twenty-three year old strapping young man showing me interest. I was completely blinded, and swept up in the moment. I loved how he treated me, and loved the things he would say to me. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear, and knew exactly how I needed to be treated.
I believe I’m going clinically insane, and I’m not sure how this chapter of my life is ever going to end, if I can’t let go of the past four years and Nicholas. I want nothing more than to let them both go, and never to think of the good memories or the broken promises that he made. Nearly four months have passed, and like an old broken movie projector the entirety of our relationship plays from the day we started talking till the day that he left, and just repeats over and over. Nothing I do, or have done, seems to make this repetitive movie stop. For the past week, on top of all the family issues that I’ve had to put up with, I’ve been thinking really hard as to why I can’t get this imagery out of my head. This is something that I’ve never had happen to me after a break-up, and I seriously want it to stop, so I can eventually give my heart to someone else and allow myself to love again.
This relationship had one major difference than all my other relationships, and I’m almost certain that it’s the cause of my mental state and inability to move on. I started hormone replacement therapy in July 2015. When I started hormones I lived in Naples Florida with my partner at the time. As I expected, he was not very happy with me because I decided to make such a big decision without consulting him first. If I recall correctly I began hormones on the seventh of that month, and flew out to Missouri on the fifteenth to help my baby sister with her upcoming wedding. That would be the last time I saw him, because within a week or so of being in Missouri he and I called our relationship off. So, now I’m back in my hometown, with only a suitcase of my belongings to start over with. GREAT!! This did not throw me off the path that I finally chose to take because I already knew this was a great possibility, I was already mentally prepared. Fast forward to October 2015, it has now been three months since I started my hormone replacement therapy. My sister’s wedding was over, and I could freely start living as my authentic self. Online groups are where I searched for support and new family because I had very limited support around me in the flesh. This is where Nicholas and I came into contact. On October eighth, I remember like it was yesterday, I posted a sticker in the comments on his profile picture. A little character offering a bundle of flowers. Little did I know, this simple gesture would consume me, and my transition for the next four years. Back to the difference of this relationship from my others. When Nicholas and I met, I was just starting to live, and be my authentic self. He became my biggest supporter, and biggest fan in a matter of days. Maybe this is what I was looking for, I can’t remember to be honest, but it felt wonderful to get the attention of a good-looking man who seemed to enjoy me as my authentic self. By October twenty-sixth he already asked me to be his girlfriend. Things were moving very quickly, and I was extremely happy, and consumed with his every word. Looking back now, at this point in time, I wish I would have made different choices. I should have stayed focused on myself, and my transition, solidifying the woman that was emerging into the world. I knew at the time who Nadia was, I had been using my name for a very long time. She has always been within me, and instead of falling in love, I should have secured my identity. I’m not blaming Nicholas for anything, I was all in, and there was no stopping me at this point. With that said however, now my transition, and identity was wrapped around a man whom I eventually would take his last name.
Fast forward to November ninth 2019, 10:28 a.m. This would be the last time that I saw Nicholas. I remember the feeling that I had in my soul as the police car rounded the corner and drove out of my sight. I suddenly felt sick, and like my soul had died. Everything about me since the beginning of my transition just drove away in a police car, and very quickly I started questioning my identity. In my other relationships I started them as the identity I was forced to have due to society, and ended those relationships with the same identity that I began them with. This last relationship is different, because instead of being secure with my authentic self first before starting a relationship, I became secure in who I was, WITH Nicholas. Now that he’s gone, I find myself having to search for that strong, confident woman that decided to start hormones without consulting her partner.
This makes complete sense in my head, and I’ve tried to put it in black and white the best way I possibly could, so that people can understand. In a nutshell I’m having an identity crisis. When I started my transition, the woman inside me who was eager to meet the world for 40 years was Nadia Cambellis. This is the woman that Nicholas met on October eighth. Very quickly I lost sight of the woman who was emerging, and she was hijacked willingly by a smooth talking, good-looking boy. I was forty years old at the time, and here was this young twenty-three year old strapping young man showing me interest. I was completely blinded, and swept up in the moment. I loved how he treated me, and loved the things he would say to me. It was like he knew exactly what I wanted to hear, and knew exactly how I needed to be treated. Typing that really just made my stomach hurt, only if there was someone to give me a warning, or tell me he was a huge red flag. Anyway, Nadia Cambellis morphed into Nadia Mazonis, Nicholas’s first transgender girlfriend, and he my first boyfriend as my authentic self. Now, I sit in what used to be our home, all alone. The man who swept me off my feet and molded me to the woman I became is gone. I still to this day have a hard time looking at myself in the mirror. Going into my closet is a nightmare for me. I look at the clothes that hang in the closet, and it’s like I’m looking at a dead woman’s clothes. I’ve been to therapy about this, and I’ve had my sister yelling at me, reminding me that Nadia was present in me a long time before Nicholas came into my life. Both she, and my therapist have helped me with this dilemma. I’m finally starting to recognize myself again, and slowly starting to remember that I’m a strong, confident, and beautiful woman.
I’ve not posted anything in almost a week, and that was really starting to bother me. February first is when I started journaling, and I must say that it has helped me tremendously. My goal was to make a post every day, but as I’ve learned, sometimes life just gets in the way. A lot has happened since my last post, most of it being family drama. Nothing I say here, will make any of that drama better, or make it go away. So, I’m just going to say that everything as far as I can tell has been resolved and is over. Speaking of drama, and drama I will speak about here now is this. A while back, I don’t remember when, but I journaled about it, this guy messaged me and rudely asked me if I was a boy. I didn’t let this bother me and simply blocked him, because at the time I didn’t feel like educating the idiot. A few days after I blocked him, he found himself going to my public journal page and messaged me some lame apology. I again, just ignored him, and deleted his message. Well, on Thursday after his apology, that wasn’t really an apology, he went and made a really hateful and dirty comment on my sister’s recommendation for my page. His comment was to the effect of “It’s not a her you stupid bitch” Well, my baby sister has had my back, and stood up for me ever since I told her I was transitioning, and well she didn’t hold back one bit on this guy. I’ve reported the comment he made three times already for hate speech. I hope and pray Facebook shuts him down for being so ignorant. Onto a positive, and really exciting piece of news that has happened in the past week, I have my apartment all to myself again. With all the chaos now gone from around me in my immediate surroundings, I’m praying I can really focus on myself, and slowly start taking down these walls that I have put up to protect me from getting hurt. I’ve talked to many wonderful guys, and I’m not saying that there is anyone specific that I want to give my heart to, but to be fair to myself, and not live in fear of being hurt, I have to be willing, and open to love, if it presents itself. I’m going to close this entry with a quote:
We love life, not because we are used to living but because we are used to loving.”― Friedrich Nietzsche
Born October 11th, 1975 in a small township in Missouri. Reared by a stay-at-home mom and a furniture factory working stepdad. With three siblings plus myself all my parents could afford was a simple existence, but I wouldn’t exchange those days with anyone or for nothing. I’m second to the oldest child with an older sister who is three years my senior. A brother who is three years younger than me, and our baby sister who is three years younger than my brother. Twenty days after my twenty-first birth on Halloween 1996, we suffered the loss of our precious mother. Our lives were altered instantly. Nothing for me has been normal since. I've found a "new" normal yet it's nowhere near the same. When 2020 began, my mother was extremely near, and she hadn't left. It will be soon, and I'll be in her arms again.