Flying Season


Three weeks ago, I made the sudden decision to take up soaring again (you can read about this decision in my post Skies Calling). I had been having this rising feeling whenever I looked out of the window – and felt that staying on the ground was steadily becoming more impossible. Gravity seemed to tug from above.

I´ve been in financial shambles pretty much since I started testosterone in July 2016, so perhaps some of you are wondering, “er, what?“. You are absolutely right. The decision to get skywards is foolish, extravagant and  definitely not what a sensible adult would do – however, I couldn´t be a sensible adult if I ate spaghetti with a fork and spoon.*

I´ve had just a little luck in the money department due to leftover testosterone I could buy, and due to the fact that I might be switching over to injections, for several reasons (on which I will elaborate in the future). Despite this deal, my re-subscription to the club and to the KNVvL** have left my bank account screaming for dear life.

Just like last year I will just have to take this on a month-by-month basis and pray that somehow I make it through. Up until now, economizing to the extreme and selling all unnecessary items has enabled me cough up the ridiculous rent, health insurance and food on a monthly basis. Now, it enables me to get my ass skywards again.

Coming back is both invigorating and worrisome. It is invigorating in the sense that club members, I think, have missed me taking up an actual part of the flying activities, helping with the construction and expansion of our shared spaces, and helping out on the field. I love doing all those things.

It´s worrisome in the sense that I´m coming back to a community as an entirely different person. At the club, they knew me as that blonde girl, who was kind of shy and awkward and weird. “She” was friendly and entertaining, but did not bother to take control in most situations, and hung out at the sideline, figuratively speaking.

I´m an, uh, “changed man”. There is no way that I will fit into the same mold now, or relate to the other club members, in the same way that I used to. Pressure from their side will most likely clash with my new-found priorities, and quite possibly boundaries will be tested to see where I fit within the community.

* According to good table manners, you are supposed to roll up the spaghetti using your fork and a spoon. Neither chopping up your spaghetti in pieces, nor slurping up your spaghetti like a maniac, make you eligible for the title of sensible adult.

* Royal Dutch Association for Aviation, membership includes insurance against damage occurring during flying activities (includes activities on the ground)



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