The Ineluctable Wisdom of Cat Posters

Although I came to adulthood in the 1980s, I grew up as a child in the 1970s, with all its attendant oddities and idiosyncrasies. As a child — particularly a transgender child — I was confused quite a bit. Candidly, I doubt that only had to do with being transgender — as an adult, I am confused almost as frequently.

But in the 1970s — along with blue eyeshadow, bell-bottomed jeans, and Ziggy comics — I was confused by cat posters. You’ve seen these — typically a kitten, in a mild state of distress, is shown trapped on a high branch, hanging from a rope, or chased by a large dog.

Exactly who would put a kitten in distress for profit remains a great unsolved mystery, but the more confusing part were the exhortations to “Believe,” “Hang In There,” or “Keep On Keepin’ On.” What the hell does a cat have to do with the philosophical vagaries of human life?

Ladies, nonbinaries, and gentlemen — I believe I cracked the code of cat posters. It has nothing to do with the cat — the cat is cheap advertising, akin to using scantily-clad young ladies (except, of course, kittens are fuzzy and cute, not (in most cases, anyway) sexy Lolitas).

Instead, the insipid admonitions are a roadmap to living successfully. We do need to believe in ourselves in order to survive. We must continue moving when the way seems darkest. And how better to portray the uncertainty of the transgender experience than a kitten hanging from a bra strap?

The problem of self-worth

I detailed previously how I measure my self-worth by my productivity. More bluntly, I only feel worthy of existing in the world when I am working. Many employers have taken advantage of this characteristic over my career — who wouldn’t want an employee ready to take on greater responsibility for no additional compensation?

But I was taken advantage of only because I enabled my employers to do so. Placing my self-worth in my employer’s hands was one of the first habits I worked on with my psychologist when I began peeling apart my gender identity at the beginning of 2022.

A friend of mine once summarized my work ethic as my job becoming my identity, but I feel it goes deeper than that. It is not that I identify as Amethysta: Software Developer or Amethysta: Team Manager or even Amethysta: Writer. The output of my productivity is irrelevant; that I produce is the point. If I am not working on something difficult, I have no purpose, and therefore no worth.

I find reward in solving problems, and that reward is my reason for living. The sad joke on me is that nothing I produce can be the last, with a well-earned rest as the reward. I truly cannot stop; I must keep running or fall into a hole of depression or worse.

But every act of self-destruction serves a purpose. None of us wants to hurt; we want reward, and I believe I found the purpose behind my cycle of productivity until I drop.

What I recognized in the last two weeks is that by running from task to task, solving more and greater problems, I prevent myself from seeing how much I hurt. The hamster wheel of productivity keeps me from seeing myself in pain — a productive life is only reward. Well…until I drop and am forced to deal with the fallout.

Self-care is not an option

“Dealing with fallout” is an appropriate description of my self-care. While I acknowledge the foolishness of this behavior, I also acknowledge a sick sense in it. Self-care means stopping. Self-care means resting. There is no productivity in rest, is there?

I spent my life encouraging others to reject that question, while consistently accepting it as dogma myself. Others should go and rest; others should care for themselves and their families; others should take vacations. Nobody should worry — after all, I am always there to do the work in their absence.

The truth is self-care also means gearing up for the next round of work. To use the Pagan Wheel of the Year, Winter is when the fruit of Summer — what remains of plants harvested in Autumn — rots and returns to the ground, to be used as nutrients by new plants in the Spring.

A time of Darkness is critical to nurture new seeds. No matter what startup CEOs may tell you, there is no endless growth. Life is a series of interlocking cycles, not one single straight line pointed up and to the right. Growth comes from riding the cycles, not by forcing an eternal Summer.

Self-care is not the loss of productivity. Self-care leads directly to a more highly-functioning person. But self-care cannot only be nursing injuries after a fall; self-care must be integrated into our lives.

Blinded by our own light

As I left the software industry to write about my transgender experience, I expected a long period of rest and contemplation. What I did instead was throw myself relentlessly into transition. I viewed a legal name change, developing a personal style, and changing my role in society as hard problems to conquer. I conquered them, because that’s what I do.

For the last two weeks, I worried subconsciously about what to do next — what productivity will fuel my self-worth? I worried I don’t have any other ideas, I don’t have any videos to film, I have nothing of value to offer, and no value in myself as a result.

Sometimes the light from dawning clarity blinds us for a while before we recognize what it means.

When we address the issues we believe are important at the time, we must then go deeper — we are forced to confront the truly important issues. That is, as we finally begin to see who we are in The Reflection — what I named the mismatch between our internal identity and our external presentation to society — we must deal with it.

Now that I see myself — now that I literally see Amethysta in the mirror — I must focus on the issues that have always been there, but have been masked. I must address who I am; there is no more running away.

Frankly, this scares the bejesus out of me. I am facing myself for the first time in 53 years. But knowing ourselves — creating our identity — is instrumental in being able just to live.

Believe…because that is success

Now I must face myself. Now I must learn to care for myself. Now I must trust that going within — embracing the Darkness of Winter — results in a brighter Spring. I must trust; I must surrender; I must be patient.

Patience may be a virtue, but it has never been one of my virtues. I was too busy running to the next task. In doing so, I could ignore the seeds of my identity, which seem to grow so slowly.

One of the principles of gardening is not to dig up your seeds every day to see if they are growing. Instead, you must trust your seeds are there, in the Earth, absorbing water and nutrients, preparing to break through into the Lightness.

Cat posters — as blunt instruments of symbolism — are right. Our lives go on around us and inside us whether we see it or not — whether we want it or not.

How do we define “success?” By believing tomorrow will come — and with it will come new life, new death, and new seeds to plant. Success is being able just to live — not to live as somebody else’s instrument, but as ourselves — peacefully, confidently, proudly.

During the past eight months of hormone therapy, I discovered changes in my cognition. Those changes inspired me to write, to develop my idea around The Reflection. Now my reflection is Amethysta; the mismatch is reconciled.

Now the hard work begins.

Now I must believe.