Diaries Of A T-Girl

Coming Out of the Darkness

2006-05-10T22:38:00.000-04:00

Some very special words from someone I truly love and respect have given me strength. For the first time in far too long, I have the confidence to stick my head out of this self-imposed Hell and breathe the fresh air and feel the sunlight on my cheeks. . .

I will thank this beautiful person in a more fitting manner in the very near future. Until then, I can only say. . . It's good to be back. . .

Stay tuned. . . I have missed you all. . .

HUGGSS!!

I Wish I Could Say I Wrote This. . .

2006-01-24T22:21:00.000-05:00

But that would be a lie. I do not know the author, other than her first name. I removed it out of respect for her identity.

What follows, is what I have experienced for over 45 years. I wish I had the courage it took to write this letter. It is long and sometimes repeats, but it is from the heart.

To the author. . . Thank you for finding the words I have sought.

Dear Mom & Dad,

This is by far the most difficult letter I've ever had to write, because I'm going to share with you a truth about myself…a truth thatI have tried to hide from you (and deny even to myself) for my whole life. I'm sorry that I didn't have the trust in you over the years to open myself to you. It is a trust that I believe, as wonderful parents, you deserved. As a child I feared rejection…and as I grew older I feared hurting and disappointing you (and those around me who depend on me). Now, I realize that deep relationships must stand on truth. The hiding is over; I am placing my love and trust in you.

I'm sure by now you're really wondering what this is all about...so here goes. For as far back into my childhood as I can remember, I have struggled with a secret that I tried so desperately to hide – the deep feeling within me that I should have been born a girl.

This was something that I knew would displease you; and, throughout mylife, I tried so hard to make you proud of me. Without going into detail, there were many, many times during my childhood (when I was alone) that I would dress as, and imagine being, a girl. As a teenager and young adult, when I saw a beautiful girl, I would (along with all my friends) outwardly express how much I wanted to "be with" her, while inside I was secretly – desperately – wishing I could "be" her. Despite my best attempts to deny them, these feelings have followed me all my life – through my childhood, my adolescence, my military service, and both of my marriages. They have not waned as I have grown; in fact, the feelings have only become more nagging and urgent as the years have passed.

Throughout my life, the thought that someone would "find out about me," scared me; and I worked very hard to keep my secret hidden. I wanted so desperately to have your approval and the acceptance of those around me that I became a master of hiding my secret and building a façade of "maleness" around me. My career choice, my military service, my marriages, and my children – I did everything that I could do to reinforce to the world that I was a "guy." I also distanced myself from the people who knew me best to minimize the likelihood that someone would discover my secret. Wherever possible within my life, I set up barriers to prevent myself from being able to act upon what I was feeling inside. To a degree, I was successful...but, like the feelings, the secret was always there.

When I was growing up, I thought I was the only person in the world insuch a dilemma. It wasn't until later in life that I learned that there are others like me. Since then, I have done a significant amount of research, spending many hundreds of hours reading medical and psychological material on the subject. Long ago, I learned that there is a name for my condition – Gender Identity Disorder (GID). It is characterized by a pervasive, life-long identity with the opposite gender. It is not homosexuality; it is not a fetish, nor transvestism (crossdressing), nor anything related to sex. It is not an issue of sex at all; it is a matter of personal gender identity – the sense of what (and who) one is.

******

As I have grown and learned more about myself and my condition, I have become more accepting of this part of myself. More than that, as time has marched on, I have begun to feel more and more compelled to adjust my life to relieve the emotional discomfort and depression that is caused by the tension between who I am...inside...and how I present myself to the rest of the world. Not wanting to disrupt my children'slives with "my problem," I decided long ago to forgo doing anything until they had grown and left our home. That was my plan; however, a few years ago, my third child was born. Understand that I love him very much – he is a wonderful blessing to our lives, but with his birth, I felt like my hope of someday dealing with my issues evaporated. The world closed in on me; and I became very depressed. On a few occasions, I had thoughts of suicide. I felt trapped...I still do.

Despite years of hiding, I had to do something – now. I had to finally face this part of myself – head on; and I had to find someone to discuss it – immediately. While searching on-line for answers, I stumbled upon someone's on-line website – a transgendered girl living in Australia – whose biography read like my life, right down to being born a boy; being raised in the same hometown; serving in the Navy; divorcing and remarrying; and having children. Here was someone who I could relate to. Here was someone I could contact, anonymously over the web, with no fear of my secret "getting out." I contacted her via an anonymous e-mail address and began an on-going "electronic dialog." Over a number of weeks, I began to feel a little better (although no less scared) about who I am. I also began to realize that denial of my true self would continue to drive me deeper into depression. Like me, she had experienced the same stresses of self-denial and the same fears of discovery. Like me, her feelings had led her into deep depression and thoughts of suicide. At one point, she had even attempted to kill herself. I did not (and still do not) want to ever reach that point in my life. Thus, I resolved to stop living the lie and begin the process to change my life. I have begun planning my transition. Over all, the process itself will take several years to complete, but I can't (and won't) turn back.

After reaching this conclusion, I decided that I needed to actually talk to someone about this. I needed to begin the process of moving forward. I decided that I needed to share my secret – verbally – with someone who knew me. That person would be someone who had known me for a long time, who I could call and talk to, and, yet, who was far enough away (and far enough removed from my life) that they could not adversely affect my life, my timetable, and my plans if my revelation was poorly received. I needed to talk to someone "safe" who knew "me." Kori, my girlfriend from high school, fit the description. Over many years, we have kept in touch, mostly through occasional e-mails, acting as a sounding board for each other and, generally, being supportive of each other in times of personal difficulty. I selected her as my "safe" person.

Over Christmas break 2002, while the kids were in Pennsylvania with you and my wife was in Tennessee with our child, I called Kori to tell her. Next to this letter, it was the most difficult thing I've ever done. This was the first time I ever verbalized my secret to another person. Despite years of soul searching and coming to grips with my condition, I physically trembled when I told her. My guts were in a knot as the words escaped my mouth. After a moment of silence that I thought lasted forever, her response was amazing...no rejection, no castigation, no mockery, or anything even remotely negative. Her actual response was, "well...thinking about it...it all makes sense now." Apparently, I was not as good at hiding my secret as I thought I had been. Even though she did not outright know, or even suspect, there were a lot of confusing signals between us during our teen-years' relationship, which, in this new context, now made sense to her. I was surprised and incredibly relieved with her response. At last I could discuss my secret with someone who was completely understanding and supportive. We spoke for hours that night and – over the past few years – we've spoken many times since. She continues to be very supportive and understanding; she is a true friend.

My next step was a lot less "safe." I had to tell my wife. Shortly after her return from Christmas in Tennessee, I revealed my secret to her. Because I feared her reaction, I tried to find a creative way to tell her. My method – revelation by way of anonymous e-mail that I thought I could later deny – was indirect, hurtful, badly done and, overall, a very poor choice. I didn't give her the benefit of my trust; and I will always regret that I didn't. Despite all that has happened between us, I really do love her. She is a very sweet, caring, and loving person – and a terrific mother. I truly regret the pain that I have caused her. Unfortunately, she has made it clear that she cannot accept this part of my life and the changes that it will entail. I understand; but it hurts no less to lose her...and our son.

Obviously, this revelation is a strain on our marriage unlike all others. Over the past few years, our already stressed marriage has become worse, as the reality of my secret set in with her. She feels betrayed that I "led her on" for so many years. My explanation – that I only recently had been able to admit my issues with even myself –understandably has fallen on deaf ears. Her world and her hopes for the future are shattered. The past years have been hell for both of us; and I doubt that our marriage will last much longer. I'm sure that the only reasons that she has stayed have been her love for me, the financial limitations of our existence, and her dwindling hope that my revelation is just a passing "phase" that I'll "get over."

After nearly two years together in counseling, I think she is finally realizing that this isn't a "phase"; in fact, just the opposite is true. My condition is such that the years of denial and depression weigh heavily and have finally taken their toll. This does not go away.

Since telling her, I have shared my secret with a select handful of people (friends and ex co-workers) that I have grown to trust and who I was sure would be accepting and supportive. With each revelation, I've become more confident and comfortable with this part of me. It doesn't scare me as much as it once did. As I told a friend recently, "as my discomfort with my current situation grows, my aversion to risk (i.e., that others may find out about me) diminishes."

I have been to therapists and support groups. I continue to see a therapist even now. I have learned much, and made some wonderful friends with others like myself. That was another frightening step to take. Before taking that step, I envisioned a pathetic world populated by the sort seen on talk shows and tabloids….drag entertainers, prostitutes, and men garishly made up as women. Instead, I found caring people from all walks of life struggling with the same secret I felt so alone with for all my life. I now count among my friends other transgendered people who are physicians, pilots, engineers, computer programmers, police officers, university professors, lawyers, and, well, people from every walk of life who are wonderful, kind, supportive, and caring people.

I am absolutely certain that my gender identity is that of a female. I know this is a terrific shock to you, and I am sorry – very sorry –for the pain it must cause you. It is not something I have been able to face for over 40 years. Now, I realize that it doesn't "go
away"... it's who I am. I have to come to terms with it; I can no longer live within this perpetual pretension. In recent years, through my contacts with professional counselors and with others, I have finally realized that I did not choose to be this way, and that despite the stigma placed it by society, it is not something to be ashamed of.

Be assured, this is not something whimsical. Obviously, there is a great gulf between the "me" that you (and the world) have always known and the "me" that I have lived with all my life and feel I must to be true to now. This journey isn't easily trod or even lightly undertaken; but it is something I must do. Luckily there are many resources available to help me. I do not plan to rush into this, but gradually and methodically take the steps to transition my life. I'm sure that you will have a thousand questions; and, in time, I will try to answer them all.

Like I said, I've come to terms with it. I'm not shouting it from the rooftops, but I'm not ashamed either. I know it may take time, but I hope you will not be ashamed either. I have prepared resources for you when you are ready for them. I realize too, that it may be sometime before you will be ready to discuss this with me, and that is OK. I understand. I have agonized a lifetime over telling you this. It was so hard to write, and I have held back for so long to spare you the pain I know you now feel. But, I want you to be a part of my life. I will hope that, together, we will find a place in our minds to understand and a place in our hearts to love and support one another.

I will wait to hear from you. Take your time; this is a lot to digest. If, in the end, you are not able to find acceptance in your heart, I will understand. Like I said, it's taken more than 40 years for me to reach this point; it would be completely unrealistic to expect you to be able to immediately embrace any of it. I hope you eventually can find acceptance in your heart. I love you both.

All my love,

Me again. . . There is nothing I could possibly add to that. . .

If you took the time to read this, I thank you. I know it was very long. But, it's not something easily explained. I think she did a beautiful job of it.

Bless you all. . .

Lauren

An Explanation of Transgenderism

2006-01-15T13:43:00.000-05:00

The following is part of a paper published by The High Risk Project Society (HRPS) in Vancouver, B.C. Canada. HRPS is a transgender support organization and has been very active in getting legal reforms in place. Canada is much more progressive on gender issues than the US.

WHAT DOES TRANSGENDER MEAN?

Transgendered people seek the freedom to express themselves and to present themselves in a manner that is consistent with their own identity, rather than with the gender identity imposed on them from birth.

Transgender is a term used by the community of people whose gender expression is considered inappropriate for their sex. It is also increasingly used as an umbrella term to include everyone who challenges the boundaries of sex and of gender. Anyone who crosses the line of what is socially acceptable appearance and self-expression may be included in the definition of transgender.

The following sub-groups are presented roughly according to the line that is crossed, though they are not meant to understood as rigid or mutually exclusive categories:

biological: transsexuals, intersexuals, androgenssocial: transgenderists, transvestites, drag kings and queens, cross-dressers, gender-benders, women who pass as men, and men who pass as women, morphological (appearance): "masculine" looking women, "feminine" looking men, bearded women, women bodybuilders (that is, women who have crossed the line of what is considered socially acceptable for a female body)

Most transgendered people, however, cross more than one line. As well, there is a significant psychological component to every transgendered person's experience as a transgendered person. In other words, being transgender is as much about a person's experience internally as it is about social perceptions, and for that reason transgendered people are those who identify as such.

DEFINITIONS OF COMMON SUB-GROUPS IN TRANSGENDERED COMMUNITIES

Transsexuals: Transsexual people internally experience a contradiction between their identity and their anatomic sex, and usually shape themselves physically to create a more healthy and harmonious balance between their bodies and their internal world. Transsexuals may take hormones and may have surgery to change their physical appearance. Hormones change the physical structure of the body, including secondary sex characteristics like facial hair, skin tone and voice pitch. Surgery for a female to male transsexual may include a mastectomy (removal of breasts), a hysterectomy (removal of uterus), and ovariectomy (removal of ovaries). Female to male transsexuals may also have a penis created through phalloplasty. Male to female transsexuals may have a vagina created through vaginoplasty.

Transsexuals who have not had genital surgery are often referred to as pre-operative, while those who have had genital surgery are often referred to as post-operative. In recent years, transsexuals have challenged this division on the basis of surgery - the term "transgender" is used, then, to unite people irrespective of their genital status. There are also those who identify as transsexual, but who have no interest in genital surgery. These people refer to themselves as non-operative transsexuals.

Intersexuals: Intersexual people have historically been referred to as hermaphrodites. These are people whose biological make-up at birth is not exclusively male or female. Because our society maintains that there are only two sexes, intersexed infants are usually, if not always, subject to extreme medical - surgical and hormonal - intervention. This involves the medical "assignment" of the infant as either male or female, on the premise that in doing so they are reconstructing the child to conform to its "real" sex. The trauma, shame, secrecy and isolation which accompanies this event effects intersexual people throughout their lives.

Intersexuals exist on the biological continuum between the poles of male and female. Between those poles there are many gradations, and intersexuals combine different biological characteristics in different ways. Intersexuals struggle against our rigid two-sex system, for the right to physical ambiguity and the acknowledgement that there are more than two sexes. Intersexed babies have a right to grow up and make their own decisions about the body they will live in for the rest of their lives.

Cross-dressers: People who wear the clothing and attire associated with the "opposite" sex may do so full or part time. Cross-dressers choose when and where they will present themselves in their chosen gender. Men who cross-dress as women sometimes refer to themselves as transvestites, however many do not like the medical connotations of that term, since the medical community has historically regarded transvestism as an illness. Drag kings and queens are also cross-dressers, but these terms are usually reserved for people who perform shows at lesbian and gay bars, and who themselves often identify as lesbians or gay men.

Transgenderists: Transgenderists are individuals who do not identify with the gender identity assigned to them at birth. Transgenderists may take hormones to bring their appearance closer to their chosen gender expression, but often they make no attempt to change their physical appearance. Transgenderists generally perceive their experience of conflict between their sex and their gender to be the result, not of "being in the wrong body," (as may be the case for transsexuals) but rather of society's expectation that they assume a gender identity that is, for them, inappropriate.

GENDER AND SEXUAL ORIENTATION

Transgender must not be confused with sexual orientation. Transgendered people may be heterosexual, homosexual or bisexual. Sexual orientation refers to our desire: it is a term which describes our emotional, psychological and sexual relationships with others. Sexuality refers to how we experience our bodies sexually, and the different ways we organize our lives based on our desires.

Gender refers to the complex characteristics which define us socially. The issues of transgendered people are primarily those of gender, not of desire. While transgendered people are not the same as lesbians and gay men, there is, of course, a range of sexualities within transgender communities. Some female to male transsexuals, for example, are attracted to women, but do not identify as heterosexual. Others are attracted to men and identify as gay men. Some male to female transsexuals are sexually attracted to other women, and identify themselves as lesbians. Other transsexuals do identify as heterosexual, while still others use no label to describe their sexual orientation. The relationship between gender and sexual orientation gets even more complex in relation to the numerous transgendered people who are not transsexual. Because of the obvious limitations of our language and terminology around sexual orientation, especially when combined with gender, many people are increasingly embracing the term "queer" to embody the broad range of people who are not 100% heterosexual. However, it is significant that many transsexual people, whether straight or queer, face discrimination within lesbian and gay communities.

On Your Mind

2005-12-27T12:53:00.000-05:00

I just finished listening to the archive copy of my appearance on Schree and Baby's web radio show (On Your Mind) last Friday. . . Not as bad as I thought, but all of the hours of training I had done for my voice seem to have slipped away. Guess I need to work on that again. It's something I have to use, or my voice reverts to what is was.

It really was fun talking with them. I wasn't sure what the reaction would be, but they were both so easy to chat with. Thanks Ladies!! Just wish I hadn't been quite so nervous. I'll try to do better next time. . . And there will be a next time. . . When? Not sure. . .

If you haven't heard their show before, they're at http://alltalkradio.net Monday through Friday at 11:00 PM, US Pacific time. They're great fun to listen to, since you never know what the next subject will be. If you scroll down the All Talk Radio home page, you can also access their show archives.

Time to get some work done. . .

Welcome To My Personal Hell

2005-12-25T10:57:00.000-05:00

This is an essay I wrote about a year ago. It was suposed to be published as part of a collection written by several local transgendered people. Since the publisher never followed through, I'll post it here. . .

The Day I Learned To Be Silent. . .

The First Time

I don’t recall just how I came to realize I was different, beyond saying that I was about age 8. It may have been sooner, but that seems like a good place to start.

At that point in my life, I knew that I really didn’t care for the rough and tumble lifestyle of the young boys in a small 1960s Michigan farm town. I had also come to know, but hardly understand, that I was much more comfortable around females. Plus, being small for my age, I always felt intimidated by other boys.

It was at about this period of my life that I became fascinated with the differences in how boys and girls dressed and presented themselves to the world. Once my curiosity peaked, I found myself one day trying on my sister’s clothes while she and my mother were away and my father was busy with the farm. It was a feeling I’ll remember forever. It was so natural! I felt happy and excited and looked at myself in the mirror for quite some time. At that age, there was nothing sexual about it. It just felt so right.

Later, I had feelings of guilt. Boys NEVER wear dresses!!!! What would people think??? My father would kill me if he knew. Without understanding why, I promised myself I would never do that again. . . Until the next time.

After a few months, it almost became a game. I would plan my girl time around my farm duties and my sister’s piano and tap lessons. It was so much fun to dress up. I felt so free. But always, there was the guilt. Sometimes months passed before I would get up the nerve to dress again.
Then it happened. I grew suddenly and my sister’s clothes no longer fit. Since my parent’s room was completely off-limits, I had to find a new outlet.

The First Crime

Our hired farm hand lived in a small house a few hundred yards from our home. His wife was a tiny woman, less than five feet tall and very slender. Somewhere in my pre-pubescent mind, it occurred to me that this was a new source of wardrobe. She wore simple dresses, but she also wore lady’s undergarments! A new chapter was about to unfold.

I hate to admit it, but I took a few of her things and hid them in a barn. I know she had to miss them, because they didn’t have much in those days. I spent many hours in her floral print dress just pretending to be a girl. It was such a wonderful outlet for me. I felt so natural. But, there was more guilt. Not only was I dressing up like a girl, I had to steal to do it. Again, weeks and months would pass before I could bring myself to indulge again.

By now, I was 11 or 12 and the pressure from my father to "be a man" and taunts from the boys at school, was taking its toll. I had to become a man, like it or not. Those clothes remain hidden in that barn to this day, as far as I know. This was the beginning of the silent years.

Deafening Silence

Through my teens and well in to my 20s, the need to feel feminine surfaced with regularity. By now, I was sexually mature and tried to hide my feeling behind fantasy, masturbation and an occasional encounter with a girlfriend’s clothes. Always, the guilt was there. I don’t know how many times I found myself wanting to punish myself for being a "Fucking Freak!" I could put it out of my mind for a while. . . But never for very long.

Marriage

In 1980, I learned that was to become a father, like it or not. I was nearly 30 now and did not want children. Nor was I in love with the woman carrying my oldest son. . . . So, I did, "the right thing." We married and settled in to family life. Right??? For who? Certainly not me, I was miserable. Married to a woman I didn’t love, with a child I never wanted. 18 months later along came my second son. Please don’t misunderstand, I do love my sons, they are my flesh and blood.

After 10 years of misery, I filed for divorce and made the mistake of telling my spouse why. She didn’t believe me at first and accused me of using it as an excuse to have an affair. With who, a woman? Hardly. I just wanted to be myself and move on.

It got ugly beyond words. My parental rights were severely restricted to "protect" my children, and my ex-wife trashed me to anyone willing to listen. She called my family and told them her story. They didn’t believe her and stood by me. But by now, my sons wanted nothing to do with me and it remains that way to this day. My door is still open to them and always will be.

More Silence

Living in a $280 a month basement apartment in a sleazy area for the next two years did nothing for my self-esteem. I began hating myself more with each passing day. I drank too much and nearly lost my career because of it. If not for my friend and co-worker "Pam," I would have lost what little I had left. She saw what I was doing to myself and gave me a well-deserved "bitch-slapping." That began a friendship that exists to this day. I finally got myself back on track. . .sort of. . .

Once again though, I put my feelings aside and became silent. I was too ashamed of what had happened and blamed my desire to be feminine. I had accumulated a few feminine things from the thrift stores and indulged myself from time to time, but I finally purged and vowed to never "dress" again.

I pushed myself in to several "manly" activities, over the next several years, that took up a lot of time and helped me ignore the real issues I refused to address. I just wanted to put that part of me somewhere, so I didn’t have to think about it.

Marriage #2

By 1995, I was dating again occasionally, with what I can only describe as miserable memories. Yet, in 1996 I met "Gena" who I would marry the following year. This was the beginning of yet another adventure down the wrong road.

Early in our relationship, Gena confided that she had been in a brief Lesbian relationship when she was younger. I saw this as an opportunity to show the feminine side of myself to someone who would surely understand. Over time, I slowly introduced my feelings to the relationship. At first, it seemed to be OK, but once she met "Lauren," things went down hill. Granted, she did go to a club with me for Halloween, while I was in full feminine attire, but beyond that she could only accept me in the bedroom. I was now a threat to the relationship.

I had, by now, found many resources on the Internet. I was learning that I wasn’t just a crossdresser. There were hundreds, maybe thousands out there who felt exactly the same way. But the more I learned, the more depressed I became. I couldn’t live it. I couldn’t just let Lauren live.

The arguments over my gender identity continued until I could take no more. In January of 2004 I told Gena I was leaving. I also told her why in great detail. The last few weeks we lived together were horrible. I was sure that she would "out" me to anyone who would listen. I feared for my job and family.

Moving On

I moved in to my new home in April 2004, and soon re-established numerous Internet contacts I had made over the past few years and began to look for local support. I found far more than I ever imagined and quickly built a circle of friends in the transgender community. Several of these proved to be people I wish I had never met. The rest are people I treasure to this day.
Gena filed for divorce in May and proceeded to mount a smear campaign that would make a politician proud. After being "outed" in a courtroom full of people (Her Attorney took great delight in doing this), I broke off all contact with her. She did, at least, keep my family out of it.

It was during this time that I was formally diagnosed as "Gender Dysphoric." Two different experts in gender identity issues told me exactly the same thing. Despite my male physical attributes, I do identify as female. In several respects, this only added to my confusion and despair.

In the early fall, I treated myself to a five-day vacation in Toronto. I stayed at a small establishment that caters to crossdressers and transgenders, right in the heart of the city. I was treated like a woman from the moment I walked in. I spent the next four days and nights living as Lauren. I had previously established online friendships with several local girls and we had a wonderful time on the town. I was in heaven. I could go anywhere and nobody really cared. An occasional look or snide comment, but I never felt threatened. I will cherish that trip for the rest of my life.

Back To Reality

After returning home, I used my newfound courage to push myself out in to the local community more often. I felt more confidant at first, but then a reality set in. I couldn’t repeat the look from the professional makeovers, and things began to unravel again.

By January 2005, I became so obsessed over my appearance that I can no longer make myself go out in public as Lauren. I know I’m being ridiculous and vain. Several dear friends have tried to help me, but here I sit, home, alone, having a pity party on a Friday night.

I will beat this. I have overcome far worse in my life. I know WHO and WHAT I am and I will succeed. But for today, . . . I remain silent.

Bless you all! You are NOT alone.

HUGGSS!

Lauren