Make up Your Mind, Damnit

I have a limited amount of time in which, to play on my day off. So, when I spent an hour the other night, trying to decide what to wear, I reprimanded myself. "You’re wasting time, you idiot," I said. Then, I realized the irony.

One of the biggest complaints, registered by men, is about how long it takes women to get ready. They pace back and forth looking at their watch, saying, "We’re going to late."

Here I was, a transgender woman, trying to find the perfect outfit to wear, and I complained that I was making myself late. That’s funny when you think about it but I didn’t laugh. I chalked it up to my transition. "Of course it’s going to take a while. You have to look perfect," I said.

Add the whole presentation as a woman issue and I’m lucky I went out at all. Part of the problem, is the dozens of new outfits in my closet. Too many choices have always been my downfall. Another part of the problem comes when I try to impose my masculine routine onto my feminine self. I talked about this in a previous post, but let me explain.

While trying to live the masculine role, I learned to get ready within minutes. Just crap, shower and shave. Brush my teeth and my hair. Get dressed in whatever is handy, and out the door. That was my routine, now there is more to do, and since my decision to transition, I honestly believe it’s harder to make up my mind. When I go to bed, I fall asleep, planning what I will wear next week.

Please realize, I’m not complaining. I’m proud of myself. Truly, it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I’m getting there. I’m becoming the woman I wanted to be.

　

I Yam What I Yam

I’m not the prettiest transgender woman you’ll see. Not even close—in fact, a mud fence comes to mind. When I see pictures of successful transitions I feel encouraged. When I see the before and after pictures, I sometimes cry. A lot of the prettiest were pretty, before they started HRT.

Where does that leave me? Well, as Popeye the Sailor was fond of saying: I Yam What I Yam.

As you know, (Or you should know, by now,) transgender is a state of mind. I have an irresistible need to be a woman. It would be wonderful to be pretty, when I’m done with transition, but I’ll settle for being feminine.

I was pretty once, back when it would’ve mattered. Now, my male body has gone down more roads than it wants to remember. As I said in a recent post, I’m an old broad, but thoughts of finally living the life, keep me going.

I mentioned seeing Trans America recently. Yes it would’ve been nice to see a real transgender woman in the leading role, but I cried during that scene when she is taking a bath. She touches herself and realizes her dream. It had finally come true. She was a real woman. I look forward to that day with great anticipation.

Recently, I read an article about one man’s opinion. Essentially, the article read,

Dr. Joseph Berger has issued a statement saying, from a medical and scientific perspective there is no such thing as a "transgendered" person, and that terms such as "gender expression" and "gender identity" are at the very least ambiguous, and are more an emotional appeal than a statement of scientific fact.

Berger, who is a consulting psychiatrist in Toronto and whose list of credentials establishes him as an expert in the field of mental illness, stated that people who identify themselves as "transgendered" are mentally ill or simply unhappy, and pointed out that hormone therapy and surgery are not appropriate treatments for psychosis or unhappiness.
First of all, I wonder where the writer learned his craft. Try to diagram those sentences. I think there are only two periods in the whole thing. Second, did you notice the insult delivered by using incorrect terminology?

Anyway, to DR. Berger, I would say, of course I’m crazy, but who isn’t? According to the parameters of your profession, everybody is neurotic, anyway.

The doctor thinks I am just unhappy . . . hmm—no kidding? HRT and SRS won’t make me happy? I would ask, what is his definition of happiness? How does one achieve that magical state of being? Doesn’t it come from within? If a person can’t find happiness in the guidelines of the Doctor’s version of normal, does he prescribe mood-altering drugs?

When a midlife crisis drives a man to purchase a Harley what would be the prognosis? When a woman retreats, at the end of a long day, to the comfort of a bubble bath, should we lock her up? Isn’t she escaping? Many of those in the Doctor’s profession must have alcohol at the end of the day. "Only to relax and wind down". Isn’t that substance abuse?

As I understand the article, Dr. Berger made his recommendations as a result of legislation being presented in Canada. The bill in question would provide for the protection of transgender people. In other words, those people who find happiness in their own way, drawing it from inside themselves, would like to be left alone. They fear for their lives.

Whatever your beliefs, everybody deserves to be free to find happiness in their own way, as long as it doesn’t infringe on others. If we suddenly ostracized every social drinker, we would alienate more than half the population, yet I don’t want my kids around somebody who is drunk.

Let people find happiness in their own way. Stop trying to legislate personal beliefs. If somebody wants to be a different gender, how does it hurt you? I yam, what I yam, and my choices are my own.

Of course transgender is a state of mind. For many, it started in the crib, but feelings are a personal thing. SRS won’t make me happy, my happiness comes from within. Expressing feelings also comes from within. Those feelings aren’t right or wrong, but they might be different than others. Diversity, is what makes us unique.

No Traditional Gender Questions

When I consider my standing in the therapy world, I’m left with a feeling of dread. I know that with the right diagnosis, the fast track toward SRS would be open to me. Convincing a therapist won’t be easy, especially, considering my non-classic symptoms.

As you know, Gender Dysphoria manifests itself in many ways. One of the most prominent is the belief of being born in the wrong body. Now, I know this will be controversial, but I don’t believe God makes mistakes. We all have different trials. We must, all jump our personal hurdles, in order to be a complete person.

With that being said, I must add, my body was undetermined. No, I’m not a hermaphradite. But certain parts were smaller, while other parts were bigger. I had breasts through puberty, and my penis was very small.

Why are some boys more masculine than others? Why do some girls shy away from the feminine? My answer, at least in my own case, is XXY syndrome. I believe that I was born with two-X chromosomes and one-Y. I believe there are many more undiagnosed cases than people think. Also, in the case of girls feeling masculine, I wonder if they were also born XXY.

Keep in mind, I’m not a geneticist, but I’m told the Y chromosome is dominant, so the reverse couldn’t be true. Can you image the macho jerk, born with two-Y’s? Anyway, I’m also told that every fetus was female first, and the Y develops in the womb.

I had issues as a child. My femininity came through, and was not welcome. My need to be a girl was squelched, and I was dragged, kicking and screaming, into a masculine role. I wasn’t born in the wrong body, but I’ve been blessed with a female mind. It has helped me understand people and express my feelings in ways a man would never do.

So here I am, with other issues that caused me to abandon the male role. My desires to be a woman are stronger than they ever were. If I could plead Gender Dysphora and convince a therapist, I would be on the fast track to HRT and SRS. There are myriad gender conditions I could be lumped into. Basically, I missed the boat at fourteen when my desires to be a girl were strong, but I didn’t have the resources we have today. So, I’ve lived a life of masculinity.

If my body had cooperated, heterosexual sex might’ve helped me become more masculine, but sexual dysfunction, left me frustrated for many years. Now, I realize that problem shaped me. With the right hormones and a vagina, life would’ve been different.

I want a do over. How many times in school, did we crinkle our homework and start again? How many times were we granted a second chance to make the right move while playing chess? "Are you sure you want to move there?" In answer to the gender question, No!!! I do not want to be a boy. I want to cry when I feel bad. I want to dress in frilly clothes. I want to talk about boys and get goose bumps when I think about them kissing me. I want to descend the staircase, dressed in a beautiful prom dress, while my nervous boyfriend admires my feminine beauty.

I want to use my feminine charm to open doors and bitch about the glass ceiling holding me back. I want it all. I want to piss everybody off during the times of PMS when I can’t control it. (I have those moments now, but I can’t claim the condition).

As I’ve mentioned before on this blog, I can never experience some of those things, due to advanced age. So why bother with HRT? Why resign myself to SRS and FFS? I guess the prospect of living the rest of my life, as a grandma, intrigues me. I want to finish life as the woman I always wanted to be. I want to quiet my mind with peace.

Isn’t that enough for an HRT recommendation? Taking it one step at a time, I will get there. With feminine grace, I will find serenity.

Next Year

http://www.geekbabe.com/dlv/

As you might’ve guessed, I didn’t achieve my goals. I just wasn’t ready for Diva Las Vegas this year. I’ve had a few setbacks, and I didn’t drop those dress sizes I planned. I could probably still go, but I don’t have the money.

On another note, I might be the last transgender person to see Trans America. I liked the story and I felt the actress did a good job, but like everybody else, I would’ve preferred to see a transgender woman play the role.



http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0407265/

Still, another subject is the Just My Size comfort bra I purchased. As you know, I have Size 52D breasts and love the support I get from a bra, but when I wore the comfort bra, well, Viva La Difference. For the first time ever, my breasts didn’t bounce independently when I walk. They bounced together, but if I walked carefully, with femininity, they didn’t bounce at all.

I now, wear that bra at work as much as I can, but alas, it must be laundered. I need to get more of them. The comfort bra doesn’t flatter my shape like more traditional bras, but I am blessed with plenty of breast. I am a woman, and it shows through my top and my comfort bra.




http://www.justmysize.com/plus-size/bras/
just-my-size/jms-pure-comfort-bra-25292

As Diva approaches, I glance at my goals for my transgender year. At my age, I can’t afford to miss any deadlines. I know there is life after middle age, and it will be filled with my feminine self. Perhaps I want more than is possible, but as youth fades away, I lament the closed doors. Doors that open onto certain rites of passage that every woman goes through. I will write more on that next time.

Anyway, next year will be my year. Diva will be my coming out party. See you there.