Now that I’ve decided to transition, All the baggage that popped up amazes me. Thousands of little details from my life have come to the surface. Things like catching myself making a feminine hand gesture and rebuking my hand, hoping nobody noticed. I spent my youth trying, but failing, to succeed in sports. I dismissed my inability by chalking it up to being overweight.
I finally got good at football and wrestling, because I turned my frustration into aggression, which I used against my opponents. I was willing to go further with my anger than they were. It earned a kind of respect for me, but I still went home and played make believe. I was the girl character, but I never added it up. I never realized my dysphoria. Although I believe it was XXY syndrome.
Anyway, I know my experiences are not unusual. Many others have been there too, but calling myself transgender instead of crossdresser, has given me a new perspective and I see things with new eyes.
I can’t believe how happy I am. It’s like climbing out of a pit I dug for myself and wondering why I lived in that hole. Life is so much clearer now. I’m not kidding myself, though. I know, there are excruciating struggles ahead, but finally allowing myself freedom to express my feminine me has been very liberating. I made a list of goals Which is a first for me. Tell me what you think.
- Lose pounds. Five dress sizes by Christmas. I know that’s a lot, but my wife left a whole wardrobe in my bedroom closet. She lost a lot of weight and since we sleep in separate parts of the house, I figure the wardrobe is mine. I want to wear some of those things at Diva Las Vegas and, (be still my heart) Southern Comfort next year.
- Secure a better means of support. I need a better job. Especially if I have to make this journey alone. I will need to save a large amount of money for doctors, etc. Anybody know where I could get a signature loan? J
- Get my teeth fixed. I used to have a pretty smile. I was really a girl, after all. ‘nuff said.
- Join several support groups. I need guidance and people to hug and be hugged by. Really though, with the exception of blogging, I’ve never talked to anyone about this and I need to spill my guts. I have a relative who should’ve had the surgery by now. I don’t know, because I’ve been busy hiding my own problems. There’s no better support group than family. I’m going to visit my auntie.
- Come out. They say that confession is good for the soul. This will be hard. But my loved ones have to know.
- Jump through the hoops. Truthfully, I’ve always been wary of mental health professionals, even though I thought I wanted to be one at one time. I don’t like people in my head. Never-the-less in this case they can help me, and they are the gatekeepers. I’m looking forward to living as a female. And I’ve already mentioned my feelings about hormones. (Where have they been all my life?)
I don’t relish the inevitable pain associated with all the surgery, but in the end . . . It’ll be worth it. After all, to finally be who I was born to be. I wish I could’ve gone to the prom. To have worn a Pink silk dress and have my date pin on the corsage. Just above my breast. To have spent the whole day primping and working on my makeup . . . Okay I missed a lot. There is much to make up for.
The goal for jumping through the hoops is, of course, a long-term goal. Also there are details that need to be filled in. I wish with all my soul, that time could be rushed forward. I’ve wasted much of life. Still, it would be better to go back and start my life over . . . What we called sex change operations where unusual, but it was being done. Results were sometimes not good. Maybe to have been born in 1990?
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