Getting Personal

I seriously doubt anybody really reads this stuff, but if you do, you know I use this forum to sort out issues that confront me. Such is the case today, but I’m about to get personal.

For what I’m about to say, I apologize. Not for the belief, but for offending you. Many transgender women I listen to, say they were born in the wrong body. I wish I could say that, but I don’t believe God makes mistakes. It’s true, I was born with a female mind and more femininity than was comfortable in gym class. I took a lot of hazing and my interests confused the other boys, but . . .

Like everyone, I tried to fit into the masculine. I tried and failed, tried and failed again. Finally, I gave up. At that point I became little more than a blob. I didn’t care anymore. I might’ve killed myself but I didn’t want to offend God in doing so.

During that time something happened to me. If you believe elements of your life are placed in your way to help you grow and become better, then someone gave me a carrot. I don’t know when it started. I’ve talked about it here, before. One of the first things I noticed, was a loss of upper body mass. Then despite a high activity job, fat moved from my arms and shoulders and came to rest on my belly and hips.

I didn’t feel like eating. My body attacked me from the inside. Between heart problems and Venus Thrombosis, I thought I would die. I developed a respiratory problem I thought was asthma.

There were positive benefits, too. Although I experienced decreased sexual desire, orgasms induced with my fingertips were more intense. My skin was softer, body hair growth slowed and I noticed a complete lack of follicles on my arms. Does any of this sound familiar?

There were other changes I can’t mention, but MTF transgender women on HRT, might recognize some of those symptoms. My body was changing and I liked most of it. During a quick binge and purge, crossdressing cycle, I realized I felt better as a woman. I didn’t want to be a man anymore.

Finally, while researching my symptoms I discovered the possible effects of an estrogen overdose in men. Life came together for me in that moment. I recalled my intense wishes to be a girl at fourteen. SRS was infantile and experimental back then. I could have my dream, but the cost was prohibitive, and from the profiles I saw, success would be iffy. After many tears, I gave up.

The overdose in my adulthood, brought back the dream. I declared myself, transgender, and began making plans. It wasn’t easy. I had a lifetime of masculine training to overcome. I have a family that would make transition difficult, and many other obstacles.

Despite all that, and a few setbacks, I trudged forward and believed I could be a girl. I began to blame my failures on masculine insecurity. I decided that if I could be a woman with confidence, I would no longer have to perform in the man’s world. I could succeed in my life.

Through of that self-discovery, guilt and my religion got in the way. Remember, I don’t believe God makes mistakes, therefore I believe God would rather I be the gender I was born to be. Worse, is the faith that tells me, He will help me if I will follow him.

Did you ever want something bad enough you would risk your life to get the thing? I lye awake at night and plan outfits. Transition, even SRS sounds so delicious to me, I’m obsessed. How can I reverse my desires?

Now, my new semi-high pressure job is taking me down. Like before, I’m failing again. I know God loves me and will help me. I can succeed if I will follow. That means not being transgender.

I struggle in a cycle of turmoil. Pressures and failures drive me into my feminine world. Knowing that help is near sends me back into the masculine. The effects of whatever caused my body to change have worn off. My beard growth is driving me crazy. I am a man in a dress. In the meantime, the cycle continues; I resolve to be the man God wants me to be and failure drives me toward the feminine. I’m losing my mind.

Oh that I could believe the theory of being born in the wrong body. I don’t know what caused my symptoms, but I would give a lot to get them back . . . well maybe not some of them.

Some of you, if you actually read this, will scoff at the idea. You will say, "Just be who you are." Others will recognize my feelings in themselves. What do I do? God has blessed me beyond my capacity to express gratitude. If He would only give me permission . . .