i'm tired of feeling guilty, it's not my fault this has surfaced.
but all i hear is "you're not the same"
"things are different between us, and I hate it"
"why are you sad all the time?"
fuck
Thursday, May 27, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
My trans life
I must have been around 5-ish or so when I first had "The Dream", at least that I remember, and yes that's how I have always thought of it. My dreams have always been very vivid, but soon after awaking they fade away, but many of The Dream's have remained in my mind, clear and bright even years later.
In this first dream I remember playing and riding my bike, a skill newly learned that summer, and somewhere along the dream I realize that while it's me, I'm in fact a boy. My dream self is running and jumping into puddles happy as can be. I awoke with an urgent need to pee, and ran to the bathroom as fast as possible. Slamming the bathroom door shut, pulling down my pj's bottoms, I stood in front of the toilet and was confused thinking, "Where is my penis?" But the need to pee over rode much thought, and quickly turned around and sat down to pee. All day long I felt off kilter, and was confused every time I went to the bathroom. I have had these dreams ever since, when I was younger they were much more frequent, and as I have aged my dream boy self has aged along with me.
I have always been told to stand like a girl, sit like a girl, act like a girl, talk like a girl, which always confused me to the point of not knowing how to act in any given situation.
While I was taught to do all the normal girl stuff, cooking and sewing and the like, every minute possible was spent outside running around, normally with my trusty iron steed, my bike. I was forever falling off stuff, over stuff, out of things, up things, and more normally down stuff. I loved burning ants with a magnifying glass, catching bees in a jar and shaking it to see them get all angry. Yeah, I never claimed to be very smart….., and yeah I did let them out on occasion getting stung every single time, again me being a kid. We lived in apartment complexes and while there were girls around, to be honest I only really ever played with the boys. Football was my favorite sport. It combined several of my most loved activities, running, knocking people down, and mud, mud, mud! If I could still see the color of what I had on, it wasn't a good game for me. I never wanted to control the ball, nah that was boring. I was fearless and no matter the size of the boy I would run at them full tilt, rarely failing to ground them.
Now I had a cousin that I was very close too, he was 15 months younger than me, but he was always bigger and taller than me. Time has passed and I'm around 12 now, and my crazy mom has dumped me off on my aunt and uncle for the summer, which was fine by me! And one fine day, the cousin and I were out with a gang of boys, and Cuz said something that angered me, quicker than quick he was on the ground with me sitting on his chest slapping his face. Well, needless to say that caused him to lose face among the neighborhood boys, he was so furious with me that we didn't speak for a few days. Each day I'm getting madder and madder at him, because the local boys are siding with my Cuz and I'm left alone with nothing to do. One afternoon I over hear them planning a cow pie fight, which was one of my favorite things ever! So, I decide to swallow my pride and apologize, grovel if need be, anything that will allow me to be included in the fun.
I know if the apology is in front of everyone it will been seen as having learned my lesson, so I swallow that humble pie and out I go to grovel and be allowed back in their good graces. I go out. I laid it on thick, and deep. Made him the good guy. I was the villain. He just looked at me and said, "You just don't get it. You are a girl. Go do girl stuff, I'm tired of you hanging around." After sputtering around for a bit, he repeated himself to me in no uncertain terms, "You. Are. A. Girl. Go away."
I was hurt and devastated to say the least. Things did improve between us before the summer was over, but I had to be invited along, no longer was it just accepted that I could tag along. And I was often left at home.
School would be starting soon, and so it was back home to live again. One day I woke up and felt rather odd and icky, but went to school anyway. As the day progressed I couldn't figure out why I felt so weird, but shrugged it off and continued on. By the time school ended I had an upset stomach and felt just icky. I go to the bathroom and there is blood… at first I thought I was dying. And then I remembered the school nurse taking the girls aside and telling them the facts of life. While she was explaining things to them I wondered why I was in there with them. This had nothing to do with me, so why was I included?
And then it dawned on me, my Cuz was right, I am a girl, and my life tilted completely out of balance. Massive amounts of tears, and large scale grief, and dark black days of depression. I had no frame of reference, nothing to hang on to. I was a girl, a girl? How on earth did that happen, and when? I pulled away from the kids at school and started skipping a lot of days, my life was adrift on a sea of uncertainty. It seemed that month by month my body was changing, and there was no way to stop it, and I hated every single change. Boys wouldn't let me play with them any longer, and I had nothing in common with the girls, they lived in a alternate world without a guide book.
I'm now 15 and my home life has completely spun out of control. My mother is going through a very long, unbroken spell of crazy. She is beating me a great deal and the mental abuse is crushing. I have somehow become the parent/adult in the house. Its my job to take the $8.00 and go and by food for the week. My job to cook, clean, wash and iron, check the mail, and remind her to pay the bills. And at night many times after her losing complete control of her anger and beating me, she pleads from her bedroom for me to come in a tuck her in….and don't forget to turn on the nightlight…
This is also the year that I realize that I have something that boys want, my body. Still not reconciled to being a girl, it's a rather nice feeling to have someone want that part of me. I work on the weekends as a busboy, my mom was a waitress at the private club. Now one of the cooks sees how my mom treats me in front of everyone, and he is very sweet to me, and I'm desperate for a kind word, a nice gesture. One thing leads to another, and the innocent that I was, he got my clothes off me, praised my beauty and starting having sex with me. I panicked and tried to get him to quit. Stop! So, my first time was forced, what a lovely way to lose ones virginity, huh? He came back several times, and I was conflicted about it. I loved being held, and being told I was pretty, and being touched that didn't involve pain. But the sex I really didn't want, and didn't like, and I always tried to make him stop, and he never would.
The sex, the abuse from my mom, the girl body became more than I could bear, and it opened up a dark well inside of me. I started drinking, and hanging around older guys, and if they would get me drunk or high I would have sex with them. It wasn't me they were having sex with, it was my body, which wasn't me at all. I stopped eating and at one point weighted around 86 pounds. I truly didn't care if I lived or died. I had nothing to live for. And then one day I woke up in the next town, with people I didn't know, naked. I called my Angel Uncle and he came and got me, no questions asked. From that day on, I started cleaning up my life. I had decided that living for me, was enough to live for.
And I started trying to be more girlish, and started wearing much more feminine clothing and trying out makeup. I have made it out of the house only a few times in my entire life with lipstick on. I apply it, and then at the last moment run and wipe it off, for whatever reason that is just one thing I can't manage to reconcile myself to wearing.
The only time I have really enjoyed and loved my girl body is when I was building babies. But those years were very short lived, and it was back to hating my body. To explain the extreme disconnect between me and my body, I looked in the mirror as little as possible. I was often surprised when reflections from oddly placed mirrors in stores and businesses turned out to be me. It always took me a few minutes to recognize that reflection as myself, well it still does. I've stopped avoiding mirrors lately, but am still surprised by what I see, but at least I understand why I have these feelings.
Since my coming out birthday in January, I have done a great deal of soul searching, and have made a few discoveries. If I could, I would transition, no doubt about it. Hormones, top surgery, and metoidioplasty. However, I can see no way at all of doing so without losing what I have worked so hard at building, a family. They might accept my status as transgendered, but I sincerely know they would never accept me in a male form. And my husband has made it very clear, that changing the girl package is not something he would accept. So, keep the girl body, keep my husband and my adult sons, and lose myself. Or gain myself by transitioning, and lose husband and sons….
So the disconnect between what I am and what I see will continue forever, or until I just can't stand it any longer. Right now I'm really having issues with the realization that there is no way for me to transition. And every single time I'm perceived as female, it hurts. I'm ok with having to live this way one moment and then crashingly despondent with the knowledge this is who I will be forever. I will never have a chance to be the real and true me. My image will never reflect who I really am, and that is hard for me to cope with.
Here I stand, on a fence, the grass is greener on both sides, and sides are filled with grief. No matter what I chose, I lose.
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metoidioplasty
In this first dream I remember playing and riding my bike, a skill newly learned that summer, and somewhere along the dream I realize that while it's me, I'm in fact a boy. My dream self is running and jumping into puddles happy as can be. I awoke with an urgent need to pee, and ran to the bathroom as fast as possible. Slamming the bathroom door shut, pulling down my pj's bottoms, I stood in front of the toilet and was confused thinking, "Where is my penis?" But the need to pee over rode much thought, and quickly turned around and sat down to pee. All day long I felt off kilter, and was confused every time I went to the bathroom. I have had these dreams ever since, when I was younger they were much more frequent, and as I have aged my dream boy self has aged along with me.
I have always been told to stand like a girl, sit like a girl, act like a girl, talk like a girl, which always confused me to the point of not knowing how to act in any given situation.
While I was taught to do all the normal girl stuff, cooking and sewing and the like, every minute possible was spent outside running around, normally with my trusty iron steed, my bike. I was forever falling off stuff, over stuff, out of things, up things, and more normally down stuff. I loved burning ants with a magnifying glass, catching bees in a jar and shaking it to see them get all angry. Yeah, I never claimed to be very smart….., and yeah I did let them out on occasion getting stung every single time, again me being a kid. We lived in apartment complexes and while there were girls around, to be honest I only really ever played with the boys. Football was my favorite sport. It combined several of my most loved activities, running, knocking people down, and mud, mud, mud! If I could still see the color of what I had on, it wasn't a good game for me. I never wanted to control the ball, nah that was boring. I was fearless and no matter the size of the boy I would run at them full tilt, rarely failing to ground them.
Now I had a cousin that I was very close too, he was 15 months younger than me, but he was always bigger and taller than me. Time has passed and I'm around 12 now, and my crazy mom has dumped me off on my aunt and uncle for the summer, which was fine by me! And one fine day, the cousin and I were out with a gang of boys, and Cuz said something that angered me, quicker than quick he was on the ground with me sitting on his chest slapping his face. Well, needless to say that caused him to lose face among the neighborhood boys, he was so furious with me that we didn't speak for a few days. Each day I'm getting madder and madder at him, because the local boys are siding with my Cuz and I'm left alone with nothing to do. One afternoon I over hear them planning a cow pie fight, which was one of my favorite things ever! So, I decide to swallow my pride and apologize, grovel if need be, anything that will allow me to be included in the fun.
I know if the apology is in front of everyone it will been seen as having learned my lesson, so I swallow that humble pie and out I go to grovel and be allowed back in their good graces. I go out. I laid it on thick, and deep. Made him the good guy. I was the villain. He just looked at me and said, "You just don't get it. You are a girl. Go do girl stuff, I'm tired of you hanging around." After sputtering around for a bit, he repeated himself to me in no uncertain terms, "You. Are. A. Girl. Go away."
I was hurt and devastated to say the least. Things did improve between us before the summer was over, but I had to be invited along, no longer was it just accepted that I could tag along. And I was often left at home.
School would be starting soon, and so it was back home to live again. One day I woke up and felt rather odd and icky, but went to school anyway. As the day progressed I couldn't figure out why I felt so weird, but shrugged it off and continued on. By the time school ended I had an upset stomach and felt just icky. I go to the bathroom and there is blood… at first I thought I was dying. And then I remembered the school nurse taking the girls aside and telling them the facts of life. While she was explaining things to them I wondered why I was in there with them. This had nothing to do with me, so why was I included?
And then it dawned on me, my Cuz was right, I am a girl, and my life tilted completely out of balance. Massive amounts of tears, and large scale grief, and dark black days of depression. I had no frame of reference, nothing to hang on to. I was a girl, a girl? How on earth did that happen, and when? I pulled away from the kids at school and started skipping a lot of days, my life was adrift on a sea of uncertainty. It seemed that month by month my body was changing, and there was no way to stop it, and I hated every single change. Boys wouldn't let me play with them any longer, and I had nothing in common with the girls, they lived in a alternate world without a guide book.
I'm now 15 and my home life has completely spun out of control. My mother is going through a very long, unbroken spell of crazy. She is beating me a great deal and the mental abuse is crushing. I have somehow become the parent/adult in the house. Its my job to take the $8.00 and go and by food for the week. My job to cook, clean, wash and iron, check the mail, and remind her to pay the bills. And at night many times after her losing complete control of her anger and beating me, she pleads from her bedroom for me to come in a tuck her in….and don't forget to turn on the nightlight…
This is also the year that I realize that I have something that boys want, my body. Still not reconciled to being a girl, it's a rather nice feeling to have someone want that part of me. I work on the weekends as a busboy, my mom was a waitress at the private club. Now one of the cooks sees how my mom treats me in front of everyone, and he is very sweet to me, and I'm desperate for a kind word, a nice gesture. One thing leads to another, and the innocent that I was, he got my clothes off me, praised my beauty and starting having sex with me. I panicked and tried to get him to quit. Stop! So, my first time was forced, what a lovely way to lose ones virginity, huh? He came back several times, and I was conflicted about it. I loved being held, and being told I was pretty, and being touched that didn't involve pain. But the sex I really didn't want, and didn't like, and I always tried to make him stop, and he never would.
The sex, the abuse from my mom, the girl body became more than I could bear, and it opened up a dark well inside of me. I started drinking, and hanging around older guys, and if they would get me drunk or high I would have sex with them. It wasn't me they were having sex with, it was my body, which wasn't me at all. I stopped eating and at one point weighted around 86 pounds. I truly didn't care if I lived or died. I had nothing to live for. And then one day I woke up in the next town, with people I didn't know, naked. I called my Angel Uncle and he came and got me, no questions asked. From that day on, I started cleaning up my life. I had decided that living for me, was enough to live for.
And I started trying to be more girlish, and started wearing much more feminine clothing and trying out makeup. I have made it out of the house only a few times in my entire life with lipstick on. I apply it, and then at the last moment run and wipe it off, for whatever reason that is just one thing I can't manage to reconcile myself to wearing.
The only time I have really enjoyed and loved my girl body is when I was building babies. But those years were very short lived, and it was back to hating my body. To explain the extreme disconnect between me and my body, I looked in the mirror as little as possible. I was often surprised when reflections from oddly placed mirrors in stores and businesses turned out to be me. It always took me a few minutes to recognize that reflection as myself, well it still does. I've stopped avoiding mirrors lately, but am still surprised by what I see, but at least I understand why I have these feelings.
Since my coming out birthday in January, I have done a great deal of soul searching, and have made a few discoveries. If I could, I would transition, no doubt about it. Hormones, top surgery, and metoidioplasty. However, I can see no way at all of doing so without losing what I have worked so hard at building, a family. They might accept my status as transgendered, but I sincerely know they would never accept me in a male form. And my husband has made it very clear, that changing the girl package is not something he would accept. So, keep the girl body, keep my husband and my adult sons, and lose myself. Or gain myself by transitioning, and lose husband and sons….
So the disconnect between what I am and what I see will continue forever, or until I just can't stand it any longer. Right now I'm really having issues with the realization that there is no way for me to transition. And every single time I'm perceived as female, it hurts. I'm ok with having to live this way one moment and then crashingly despondent with the knowledge this is who I will be forever. I will never have a chance to be the real and true me. My image will never reflect who I really am, and that is hard for me to cope with.
Here I stand, on a fence, the grass is greener on both sides, and sides are filled with grief. No matter what I chose, I lose.
*http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Metoidioplasty
Tuesday, May 18, 2010
And now for something completely different
Well, quite a lot has happened since I last posted. And it has all been good, well there is a new development that is weird and yet very amusing to me......
A few days after my last post, and yeah that's as close as I can get reckoning time is something that is a total fail for me, I was sitting on the sofa playing pokemon. Yes, I'm still addicted to it..... Anyway, TH was sitting at the table reading a magazine when this conversation took place.
TH: Hey dearest? I wanna talk to you about something. I'm sorry, if it wasn't for me and the boys you could have the surgery and live as a guy. I feel really badly that once again I'm keeping you from what you want.
At this point you could have knocked me over with a breath! To say I was shocked and surprised is way to tame for the way I was thinking.
me: It's not your fault. You married a girl and expected that wouldn't change.
TH: Yeah. But it's still not fair for you.
me: It's ok. I knew that there was no way for me to transition, and still keep my life intact.
TH: So what are you going to do?
me: Umm, I don't know yet.
TH: Well, I do still love you. I'm just not so good at showing it at times.
And since that day, things have been much much easier between us. He hasn't made any wise cracks about what I'm doing or wearing since that day, so maybe we are really over that hump and life can settle down for us both.
I'm so happy that our marriage might come out of this turmoil intact, Y A Y! ! ! ! !
Ok, now on with the weird and funny development.......I keep getting the "look" from women! In fact one lady was flat out flirting with me, and because thats something new for me I didn't notice, TH pointed it out and he found it to be hysterical, and teased me on and off all day about it.
TH: My wife the chick magnet!
Today while on a grocery run, I noticed getting several the "looks" so I guess I now look "butchy" and am attractive to that portion of our society. Hmm, well at least I'm going in the right direction, yeah?
The last few days, for whatever reason, I seem to feel more comfortable in my own skin. I'm still working thru the whole clothing thing, and grooming is a whole different issue. To shave or not? I'm going with yeah because it grosses most people out for women to keep their legs and underarms hairy. But truthfully I would much rather not. But it is shorts season, soo.......
I can't remember being this happy in a really long time. It's nice to finally have some inner peace. I just hope it doesn't evaporate....
A few days after my last post, and yeah that's as close as I can get reckoning time is something that is a total fail for me, I was sitting on the sofa playing pokemon. Yes, I'm still addicted to it..... Anyway, TH was sitting at the table reading a magazine when this conversation took place.
TH: Hey dearest? I wanna talk to you about something. I'm sorry, if it wasn't for me and the boys you could have the surgery and live as a guy. I feel really badly that once again I'm keeping you from what you want.
At this point you could have knocked me over with a breath! To say I was shocked and surprised is way to tame for the way I was thinking.
me: It's not your fault. You married a girl and expected that wouldn't change.
TH: Yeah. But it's still not fair for you.
me: It's ok. I knew that there was no way for me to transition, and still keep my life intact.
TH: So what are you going to do?
me: Umm, I don't know yet.
TH: Well, I do still love you. I'm just not so good at showing it at times.
And since that day, things have been much much easier between us. He hasn't made any wise cracks about what I'm doing or wearing since that day, so maybe we are really over that hump and life can settle down for us both.
I'm so happy that our marriage might come out of this turmoil intact, Y A Y! ! ! ! !
Ok, now on with the weird and funny development.......I keep getting the "look" from women! In fact one lady was flat out flirting with me, and because thats something new for me I didn't notice, TH pointed it out and he found it to be hysterical, and teased me on and off all day about it.
TH: My wife the chick magnet!
Today while on a grocery run, I noticed getting several the "looks" so I guess I now look "butchy" and am attractive to that portion of our society. Hmm, well at least I'm going in the right direction, yeah?
The last few days, for whatever reason, I seem to feel more comfortable in my own skin. I'm still working thru the whole clothing thing, and grooming is a whole different issue. To shave or not? I'm going with yeah because it grosses most people out for women to keep their legs and underarms hairy. But truthfully I would much rather not. But it is shorts season, soo.......
I can't remember being this happy in a really long time. It's nice to finally have some inner peace. I just hope it doesn't evaporate....
Thursday, May 13, 2010
A quick note from Ethan
Hey Everyone
It's Ethan from Slowly Coming Out so as you have noticed I have shut down my blog. I know you are wondering why and what happened and I understand but I'm not going to say what expect that I'm in trouble and praying things get better. No nothing life threating just some dumb stuff is all.
No drugs either. The reason that I have closed my blog is b/c I will not have my computer for a long time (2-3 weeks) so I decided to have it shut down. I will be back (hopefully) until then I will try to read everyone's blog posts when I can but don't expect it to be anyway soon.
Take care and Much Love,
Ethan
It's Ethan from Slowly Coming Out so as you have noticed I have shut down my blog. I know you are wondering why and what happened and I understand but I'm not going to say what expect that I'm in trouble and praying things get better. No nothing life threating just some dumb stuff is all.
No drugs either. The reason that I have closed my blog is b/c I will not have my computer for a long time (2-3 weeks) so I decided to have it shut down. I will be back (hopefully) until then I will try to read everyone's blog posts when I can but don't expect it to be anyway soon.
Take care and Much Love,
Ethan
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Stepping Stones
TH came home the other day, after a day out on his ATV with the youngest, and it had honestly been one of those days of nothing but tears. As he came in he instantly noticed my somber mood, and we had this conversation:
TH: What's wrong? Are you mad at me? (he thought i was mad at him for being gone all day)
me: No.
TH: I feel bad that I was gone all day. You're not mad about it, are you?
me: No, I'm glad you got to get out and have muddy fun.
TH: Then whats wrong? Has the daughter in law being a pain again today?
me: No, she's still at work.
TH: Well somethings wrong, tell me what it is.
(our son was home, in his room, but still in the house, so I really didn't want to say what I was upset about)
me: Just the usual stuff
TH: What stuff?
me: The same stuff since December.
TH: I must be stupid today, cause I have no idea what your talking about.
me: Trans stuff
TH: You're always so sad anymore. I hate it.
me: I have a lot to work through. You're just going to have to give me the room to be upset while I work through all of this.
TH: I just want you to be happy again, that's all.
me: Then let me be sad, don't make me hide my feelings to make you feel better, ok?
TH: It'll be hard, but I'll try.
So, at least I finally got him to "allow" me the space to work through stuff and to be upset and not have to glue a fake smile on. This is such a relief. Since our little talk he has been much more understanding of me being sad. He's offering his lap for me to sit on and cuddle me again. It's been a while since that was offered. I think it's a two steps forward, one step back thing with TH. As long as he's working on it, that's all that really matters, yeah?
I would love to alter my body to reflect my male and female sides, and to dress accordingly. But, have come to the sad conclusion that the only way that will happen is to lose my family and they are much more important to me that my outer shell.
Now for my next trick is how to find my happiness again. How to live happily in and with a body that doesn't fit well, and that I've never been very happy with. We shall see......
TH: What's wrong? Are you mad at me? (he thought i was mad at him for being gone all day)
me: No.
TH: I feel bad that I was gone all day. You're not mad about it, are you?
me: No, I'm glad you got to get out and have muddy fun.
TH: Then whats wrong? Has the daughter in law being a pain again today?
me: No, she's still at work.
TH: Well somethings wrong, tell me what it is.
(our son was home, in his room, but still in the house, so I really didn't want to say what I was upset about)
me: Just the usual stuff
TH: What stuff?
me: The same stuff since December.
TH: I must be stupid today, cause I have no idea what your talking about.
me: Trans stuff
TH: You're always so sad anymore. I hate it.
me: I have a lot to work through. You're just going to have to give me the room to be upset while I work through all of this.
TH: I just want you to be happy again, that's all.
me: Then let me be sad, don't make me hide my feelings to make you feel better, ok?
TH: It'll be hard, but I'll try.
So, at least I finally got him to "allow" me the space to work through stuff and to be upset and not have to glue a fake smile on. This is such a relief. Since our little talk he has been much more understanding of me being sad. He's offering his lap for me to sit on and cuddle me again. It's been a while since that was offered. I think it's a two steps forward, one step back thing with TH. As long as he's working on it, that's all that really matters, yeah?
I would love to alter my body to reflect my male and female sides, and to dress accordingly. But, have come to the sad conclusion that the only way that will happen is to lose my family and they are much more important to me that my outer shell.
Now for my next trick is how to find my happiness again. How to live happily in and with a body that doesn't fit well, and that I've never been very happy with. We shall see......
Friday, May 7, 2010
Strangled By My Own Rope
Many, many times I find myself wishing that I had never read that post and discovered my transgendered self. To say that I have been unhappy would be the understatement of the year. I no longer know who I am, what I want, or how to go about blending my "old" self with my "new" self.
Life with T.H. is strained to say the least. Any time that I'm not happy and bubbly, which used to be my norm, he complains about how unhappy I've been ever since and he doesn't see how it helped me at all.....this self discovery of mine.
I have periods of being happy, and then it's like a huge crushing weight smashes into me. And all I can do is cry. I can't sleep, my appetite is suppressed, and all I want to do is watch tv, which is a sure sign I'm depressed.
Sure the knowledge makes sense of my past life and actions, a joy in itself. But that leaves me afloat with nothing to hold onto, every thing seems awkward and off kilter. I have no fucking idea how to continue on from here.
The funny thing, now that my mind is aware is how much of me I have repressed over the years. I remember when puberty brought breasts to my chest how devastated I was, and how mad I was that my cousin was right, I was a girl. I don't think I truly ever believed before then. I think it was then that I started to submarine myself, from myself. By the time I got to college I was wearing mostly female clothing, and trying so hard to fit in with the girls in my dorm, a feat I never really ever managed.
Now that I have embraced my true self, one good thing has happened. I no longer avoid mirrors. I can look in the mirror at me. I still don't think I'm very attractive, but w/e, that's not the point. It's the fact that I know now why the mirror has always bothered me, it reflects a girl and not the boy it should be.
Androgyne me, I think is what was caused by socialization. I think that transexual is really a better fit. Because if possible I would jettison this girl shell, it has served its purpose, and gave me four of the most wonderful sons ever.
And I think that is the root of my trouble, I want to change, but see no way of doing so. T.H. has told me any surgery is a deal breaker, the end of our marriage. No, I'm not mad at him for feeling that way, but it does hurt. I'm sitting looking at the scary thought of wondering if I'm no longer in love with T.H. He's really not on board with all of this, and it has caused a gulf between us. He agrees that yes, it does make sense, it explains why I'm so different from the usual female. A fence, a wall, a moat divides that point of his understanding from the whole rest of me. He's not prepared to travel any further, and has dug in his heels. Willfully? idk tbh
Strangled by my own rope of understanding me, and the more I wiggle and squirm the more it strangles me.
Life with T.H. is strained to say the least. Any time that I'm not happy and bubbly, which used to be my norm, he complains about how unhappy I've been ever since and he doesn't see how it helped me at all.....this self discovery of mine.
I have periods of being happy, and then it's like a huge crushing weight smashes into me. And all I can do is cry. I can't sleep, my appetite is suppressed, and all I want to do is watch tv, which is a sure sign I'm depressed.
Sure the knowledge makes sense of my past life and actions, a joy in itself. But that leaves me afloat with nothing to hold onto, every thing seems awkward and off kilter. I have no fucking idea how to continue on from here.
The funny thing, now that my mind is aware is how much of me I have repressed over the years. I remember when puberty brought breasts to my chest how devastated I was, and how mad I was that my cousin was right, I was a girl. I don't think I truly ever believed before then. I think it was then that I started to submarine myself, from myself. By the time I got to college I was wearing mostly female clothing, and trying so hard to fit in with the girls in my dorm, a feat I never really ever managed.
Now that I have embraced my true self, one good thing has happened. I no longer avoid mirrors. I can look in the mirror at me. I still don't think I'm very attractive, but w/e, that's not the point. It's the fact that I know now why the mirror has always bothered me, it reflects a girl and not the boy it should be.
Androgyne me, I think is what was caused by socialization. I think that transexual is really a better fit. Because if possible I would jettison this girl shell, it has served its purpose, and gave me four of the most wonderful sons ever.
And I think that is the root of my trouble, I want to change, but see no way of doing so. T.H. has told me any surgery is a deal breaker, the end of our marriage. No, I'm not mad at him for feeling that way, but it does hurt. I'm sitting looking at the scary thought of wondering if I'm no longer in love with T.H. He's really not on board with all of this, and it has caused a gulf between us. He agrees that yes, it does make sense, it explains why I'm so different from the usual female. A fence, a wall, a moat divides that point of his understanding from the whole rest of me. He's not prepared to travel any further, and has dug in his heels. Willfully? idk tbh
Strangled by my own rope of understanding me, and the more I wiggle and squirm the more it strangles me.
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