Not quite a beginning

I hestitate to name this as a beginning, because clearly I'm not just beginning this...this...process. But I want to have a place where I can semi-formally collect my thoughts about (my) gender, transition and identity, and this seems as good a means as any.
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I feel like a first post should have some sort of introductory component, but I think this whole blog is (will be) an experiment in introducing myself to the world. Basically, there are a whole raft of terms that I wrestle with- boy, guy, transman, queer, Eli, etc.- and I have trouble picking and choosing.
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Speaking of rafts, Micki (a former Rocker, transwoman, friend, inspiration) said something last spring that resonated within me. She said for her, being trans is like being one of those Polynesian sailors who set off long ago on a little raft to cross the Pacific, with only the stars to guide them, and no notion of what might be on the other side of the Ocean, if indeed there was anything. You're on the raft, and you're all alone, and you don't know where you're going or how long it's going to take you to get there or what it's going to look like when you arrive or even if there's any solid land to arrive at. I heard her say that and I realized that, admit it or not, I'm on that raft, too. But maybe this is an anecdote for another day- for when I can get into the How and Why Did I Come Out as Trans? stuff.
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For now, maybe I'll just say that I've felt sometimes that the guy who is me- this guy Eli- is out there somewhere, waiting for me to find him, waiting for me to figure out how to become myself. And I worry, because everything feels unsteady, and I don't know where to look for the guideposts, and I worry that I'll never find him.
But someone once rubbed my back while I brooded about this, and said "It's okay. You're strong. And Eli? He'll find you."
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A last note, on titles- translocative is a term used in linguistic analysis for directional markers attached to discourse situations which are moving away from the speaker. I've always liked the cislocative/translocative distinction...I wish English had more subtle/complex morphology...and I like the additional pun of trans in translocative. Furthermore, I'd like to note that the subtitle of this blog is not a salacious remark, but rather an allusion to a Laura Nyro song of the same title that my dad sent to me upon finding out that his second daughter was actually his oldest son Eli.