I met a man.
Let me explain.....
I'm off on business right now, in a beautiful city in Canada, and as I already have some gay and trans connections here, I decided not to hold back and spend as much time as myself as I can. Up at 5.45, working by 7, work 12 or 13 hours a day, and each night I go through my little transformation and head out to wander, shop, and just enjoy life and the city.
In my explorations, I wandered into a cute little store (tourist trap as it turns out to be, lol), and like in most stores, I chat a bit with the girls working there, but this time it was different. The gorgeous young woman and her rockin friend who served me were so sweet and cheery (not to mention a touch inquisitive about my trans-ness, but in a very respectful and cool way) that I ended up spending more time getting to know them than I did actually shopping!.
While I was chatting with Donna*, she let slip that she had gone through a 'boy' phase, in which she felt like she was trans, but the way that she talked about it, she really made it seem like one of "those" phases that all teenagers go through.. did I mention these lovely ladies are the ripe old age of 19/20?, eep!, thats ok, they made me feel young again, lol. It stuck in my head, and I told Becca about it that night, that the super sweet store manager may actually be a trans man, and how cool would it be if she actually turned out to be so one day.
I wandered into the store the next night as well to say hi, and to get a refresher on how to arrange the loops on the top I had bought the night before (I swear, some of these tops are more complicated than tie's, and I've never been able to tie a tie), and again we ended up chatting away like old friends for half an hour, never even got to try anything on, so they made me promise to come back soon so they could "dress me up", and boy did they ever, I have so many new amazing outfits now, lol!.
Earlier today, I got off work early (yup, working on a Saturday), and before switching over to Dawn for the rest of the day, I went out to grab some food. While I was wandering, I passed by the store again (its a small place I'm working in), and wouldn't you know it, Donna is chatting with Elody* near the front door. I call out her name, and recognizing my voice she whips her head around, and pauses, curious look on her face, quickly followed by what I can only describe as surprise (but in a good way!) as she puts two and two together. She grabs Elody and they both rush out to greet me, in awe at how different I look between my two sides, how feminine I can become with just some makeup and padding (oh, and a wig). We sit down to have a smoke and chat some more, and Donna tells me more about herself, and that no, the trans wasn't just a teenage phase, its something she's still going through right now, something she is dealing with daily, thinking of it all the time, etc etc etc....
Sounds familiar doesn't it?
Immediately I felt closer to the two of them, I didn't feel out of place presenting as a boy, and it just spurned more interesting conversation. Anyway, to make a long story slightly less long, I got my lunch, switched over to Dawn, shopped (im done for this trip, I promise) and of course ended up back in the store where they dressed me up, throwing piece after piece at me, and everything they chose looked amazing (four new dresses, bloody hell). While we were doing this, which I should mention took about 2 hours, we spent just as much time chatting as I did trying stuff on, more even. We all shared lots of interesting, and very personal things, and once again alot of the conversation geared towards Teh Trans, and I realized that hey, this is a trans man standing in front of me, wearing her female armor, the same way that I wore my male armor for decades.
Guess what happened?
The more we talked, the more I saw the boy in her, her male side was coming out. She seemed excited to meet a fellow traveler, but at the same time she seemed more relaxed, she was a fairly twitchy girl I must say (but with love!, lol). Not really wanting the evening, or the conversation to end, I invited them both out for drinks, and I mentioned that why doesn't Donna go out as a boy, as Don (as his name turned out to be)?. I told her there were some trans men that I had seen / met at my local haunt (she had never knowingly met anyone like herself), and that it would be good for her to get out there and meet some similar people. After a bit of toe shuffling, she agreed, we burned out the rest of her shift (in more ways than one, lolol), and headed back to my hotel room where she borrowed the last of my boy clothes that are relatively clean (hey, what man cares about that eh?) and before Elody and I knew it, Don was standing there. It really was amazing, a bit of binding, some looser pants and a sweater, and bang, a very attractive trans man was with us who was lucky enough to have two lovely ladies on his arms ;)
We headed out, had a drink at the quiet place, then went dancing and drinking at the local gay club. We met a few interesting people, and one of the sexiest british bar-tenders I've ever met (thanks whoever you were for an amazing time!), chitchatted and danced the night away. I made her feel like a man on the dance floor, and she made me feel like a woman, got quite drunk, had lots of personal and incredibly touching conversations, and well, I just feel like a million bucks right now, I'm sitting in my hotel room, and they should be home by now, and..... I helped a younger trans person come out of his shell, and I gotta say, there isn't a much better feeling than that. Remember the twitchyness I had mentioned?, at the club he was chill, he was relaxed, and like he told me, he hadn't felt that comfortable in his own skin since forever.
Don, and Elody as well, I love you both. If I never see you again, and I know I will, a hundred percent guaranteed that I will see you again (even after I go home on Wednesday, I know I'll see them again), but if I don't, you'll both always have a place in my heart.
Thank you for an unforgettable experience
*as usual, names are modified but will remain consistent
Sunday 26 August 2012
Friday 17 August 2012
I said yes...
Becca asked me a question recently that she hadn't asked me in a long time. Recently, with me floating along on my pink fluffy cloud, there's been alot of discussion on 'where is this all going', 'where am I going to end up', and in all honesty, regardless of my desires, the answers to those questions are all "I dont know".
But she altered the question this time when she asked, this time it was "Do you want to transition?".
I paused, and all the jumbled up thoughts that had been flying through my head over the past few months solidified into a "yes".
I had almost said this to some other friends already over the past few weeks, mainly online people, but it was never this direct, this solid. With them it was more to the effect of "I think I'm going to have to", "I can't see much other choice", but it was always flimsy. With Becca, it was as if saying it to her made it more real, more absolute. I still don't know if I will actually transition, or if I am even healthy enough to (gotta quit smoking....), or if I'll still feel this way in a few months, or if I'll find a more comfortable place as I keep slowly progressing to womanhood and find that I don't have to go all the way, or or or or or or or...... you get the drift.
Its weird though, while things with Becca and I have been getting better lately (we have our rough spells), the speed at which I'm becoming more independent, and more confident as a woman has been really bothering her, she feels that she is missing a solid ground, a base in her life if that makes sense. But after I said "yes" to her, we talked more, we hugged and cried, and then she seemed calmer than she had in a while, and slept like a baby that night, and at least from my point of view, she has been much more relaxed (although very pensive!) about it all since then.
But yeah, I said 'yes', whoah. Therapy starts in 2 weeks, lets see where this goes.....
But she altered the question this time when she asked, this time it was "Do you want to transition?".
I paused, and all the jumbled up thoughts that had been flying through my head over the past few months solidified into a "yes".
I had almost said this to some other friends already over the past few weeks, mainly online people, but it was never this direct, this solid. With them it was more to the effect of "I think I'm going to have to", "I can't see much other choice", but it was always flimsy. With Becca, it was as if saying it to her made it more real, more absolute. I still don't know if I will actually transition, or if I am even healthy enough to (gotta quit smoking....), or if I'll still feel this way in a few months, or if I'll find a more comfortable place as I keep slowly progressing to womanhood and find that I don't have to go all the way, or or or or or or or...... you get the drift.
Its weird though, while things with Becca and I have been getting better lately (we have our rough spells), the speed at which I'm becoming more independent, and more confident as a woman has been really bothering her, she feels that she is missing a solid ground, a base in her life if that makes sense. But after I said "yes" to her, we talked more, we hugged and cried, and then she seemed calmer than she had in a while, and slept like a baby that night, and at least from my point of view, she has been much more relaxed (although very pensive!) about it all since then.
But yeah, I said 'yes', whoah. Therapy starts in 2 weeks, lets see where this goes.....
Thursday 9 August 2012
Procrastinating..... pt. 1
I always procrastinate, you all know the feeling, the end of the night when the makeup has to come off, and you have to go back to boy mode for... well... the amount of time is different for all of us (until the 19th for me, unless I sneak in an evening), but that amount of time is always too long.
Anyway, real reason I wanted to make a quick post was to not lose this poem. I ran across a fantastic blog a while ago, and since I'm new to all of this blogging stuff I don't know if its kosher to just randomly link to someone's blog, so I'll look into that and update later, but regardless, a poem was posted there that I wanted to lock in stone as it were on the wild interwebs, somewhere I can find it later. Here it is:
The Voice by Shel Silverstein
There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
“I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.”
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What’s right for you – just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.
ok, time to take the face off......
Anyway, real reason I wanted to make a quick post was to not lose this poem. I ran across a fantastic blog a while ago, and since I'm new to all of this blogging stuff I don't know if its kosher to just randomly link to someone's blog, so I'll look into that and update later, but regardless, a poem was posted there that I wanted to lock in stone as it were on the wild interwebs, somewhere I can find it later. Here it is:
The Voice by Shel Silverstein
There is a voice inside of you
That whispers all day long,
“I feel that this is right for me,
I know that this is wrong.”
No teacher, preacher, parent, friend
Or wise man can decide
What’s right for you – just listen to
The voice that speaks inside.
ok, time to take the face off......
Leading up to this past year
Like I alluded to in my first post, this has been a big year for me when it comes to "Teh Trans". At this time last year I hadn't gone out en femme since about 2008, which was an outing during some of the various gay festivities here in Montreal. Now, I'm out and about pretty much anywhere, sometimes I'm still surprised at how quickly this change happened, and how easy it all ended up being.
Dawn's first time out in the world was 2006, a good friend of mine, lets call him Cal*, decided to hold a 'crossdressing' party at his apartment and invited me. I had been dying to get out there at that point, and jumped on the party as a safe way to see how it felt to be femme somewhere other than my apartment, sure it wasn't a terribly honest first time out, aside from a girl-friend of mine who was coming with me, no one there actually knew about "the secret!". Still, it was a fun first time out even though everyone thought it was sooooo funny that I looked soooooo femmy, so yeah I was getting laughed at, but I guess it was for the right reason?, weird.
Fast forward a year, now I'm dating Rebecca* who would go on to later be my wife, and Montreal pride is coming up fast. She is getting more comfortable with her boyfriend being a trans person, although she still has lots of lines that she isn't comfortable crossing (only in safe places, gay village, no straight world exploration, another story....), but we both figure the Pride parade is a great way for us to be out at the same time safely and relatively anonymously. The day goes well, she has to work that afternoon so I end up going back to the village with another friend of mine I'm out to, lots of fun, interesting conversation, etc etc etc, all good stuff.
During that year I start to attend a trans support group, great bunch of girls and guys, but I'm the only one there who isn't going through their transition, I'm the only "transgendered crossdresser" in the group. While the people were great and understanding, I always had the feeling that they weren't taking me terribly seriously, I wasn't on the 'mones, so I couldn't be very serious about all of this right?, ugh. After a few months of going there off and on, the time between visits started to get longer and longer, until I just never bothered going back. In retrospect, I was feeling alot of pressure (most likely self imposed) to transition while I was in that group so I could fit in better, but the thought scared the ever loving hell out of me, I wasn't ready for it then, so I (once again) ran away and hid from all of this.
Becca and I went to Pride again the next year (we're up to 2008 now for those keeping track), and again it was a great day. I had gotten in touch with an old friend, and the three of us spent the afternoon together out as girl-friends, enjoying the sunshine and live music, lounging out in a park with thousands of others around us all doing the same thing, typical Montreal afternoon. So now I'm coming out to old friends, some new, I'm going out, Becca is supportive, what do I do?, I go right back into the closet.
Looking back I still don't fully understand why.
I remember driving back home from either pride or the other day where we went out with my old friend, and I was talking to my mom on my cell. She had known about me for a couple years now, but had never agreed to see a picture of me, but over the past couple of weeks she had made it sound like she was OK with it now. I guess it got my hopes up... I asked her again which email to send a couple pics to, and she all quietly said that she actually wasn't ready, and would most likely never be ready, and I remember feeling absolutely crushed.
I also remember that while Becca was supportive, she's never been.... *into* it all..... I'm sure trans folk out there know what I mean by that. I was also feeling quite lonely, two pride events and I had barely seen any other trans folk anywhere, I hadn't met anyone, all my years of hunting online on all of the standard trans sites had resulted in ZERO people interested in just meeting other similar people for friendship (this city is seriously over-sexed), I guess something in my head / psyche just cracked, and Dawn hung up her heels for quite a while.
Between then and this past November, my trans-ness took another angle while I was subconsciously closeting myself. I may have not put my wig on or put on a full face, but I still wore women's clothing off and on. It started with undies, as it often does (LOL), and undershirts, nothing silly and frilly, just more fitted undershirts (like women's tops tend to be) which would fit under my men's t-shirts or polo's, and hanes boyshorts instead of my usual "athletics" (those tight boxers). At first it was once a week. I would still remove my women's under-stuff before bed, before Becca would see me wear them (she knew I was, I just had trouble letting her see me like that), then slowly over the months it became more and more often, to the point where she would ask me to wear some of my men's sexy undies for her just because I had been wearing femme undergarments so regularly. I started to wear women's lounge wear at home, mainly yoga pants, or loose comfy capri's, in the winter I would snuggle under one of my long knit cardigans (women's of course). I was (again, subconsciously) starting to integrate both my masculine and my feminine, just without actually dolling up completely. As those handful of years went by, I slowly went from hiding the fact that I was wearing a fitted scoop neck undershirt and black hanes panties, to sleeping openly in my femme clothing, wandering around the house in them the next morning, and chatting easily with Becca while lying there in a pair of panties. Sometime at the end of last year, I started wearing women's jeans in boy-mode (yes, to work as well, im a jeans -n- t-shirt person at the office), and after multiple frustrating shopping trips for jeans, I just stopped buying from the guy's side of the store, both Becca and I had to face it, my body isn't shaped like a regular guy's, and my CK size 30s fit me far better than any men's jeans I've ever worn. I started getting manicures, and while I dont wear color all the time (and definitely not to work), I always have a matte coat on my fingers. I've kept my body shaved all summer, and since its quite hot outside I've been wearing (women's) jean capri's to work, shaved legs plainly visible to anyone who wants to look (and oh yes, they've noticed, lol). Oh, and this January, I finally got my ears pierced.
So while I wasn't actually dressing, I was in a way dressing each day, softening my male side. My mannerisms and body language started to lose their macho overtones, I've always been naturally feminine when it came to body language, but like many trans people, I also became one heck of an actor and wore my "male" armor fiercely. That armor is gone now, and if anything, I'm coming across as a soft gay man.
I don't remember exactly when I *snapped* and napalmed my closet, but I'm pretty sure it was sometime last November. Becca was out working all day on a weekend, and I was puttering in the closet, and before I knew it, Dawn was standing before a mirror, barely any makeup, and the camera was out, snap snap snap snap snap, and 100+ pictures later I had created a Flickr account and posted a few new pictures. There was no leading up to this, no decision, it just kinda happened. Becca came home that night to Dawn, and it was a pretty fantastic night, she was happy to see me happy even though for her, this meant dealing with trans stuff again.
A few more dress at home's, stopping off at Dynamite for some shopping in boy mode, then before I knew it we did our first trans club outing, then the very next day (St Patricks day) I went out all on my lonesome to the (gulp!) straight part of the city, right downtown to the Bay Center, got a makeup consult at the MAC counter (right next to the main entrance to the Bay), walked up and down St Catherine street (for those who know Montreal, this is our biggest shopping street in the city) with literally tens of thousands around me, and the world didn't end :). Again, none of this was planned, or worked up to, it just happened. I remember being a little dissapointed by the fact that we got manicures (with color for once and while en femme!) and that I wouldn't be able to enjoy them again, so I just said fuck it, put on my face, and headed out.
Now I'm sitting here in my Jessica Simpson skinny jeans, in my Le Chateau black silk top, all dolled up, looking and feeling great, with Becca asleep next to me on the couch, and I'm resting my feet after a lovely afternoon's shopping with a good girl-friend of mine and her husband. I already have a small circle of trans friends that I've made in my past few outings, and the sweetest trans-oriented guy (he doesn't like the term admirer, this will be another post for the future, interesting stuff) that I keep running into that loves to make me blush (thankfully Becca thinks this is adorable and is not threatened). Things are definitely looking up :)
I've opened so many new avenue's for posts from this one, more to come later, this girl needs her beauty rest. Thanks for reading.
* - all names in this blog have been altered, but I will continue to use the same faux names for the same people to maintain consistency.
Dawn's first time out in the world was 2006, a good friend of mine, lets call him Cal*, decided to hold a 'crossdressing' party at his apartment and invited me. I had been dying to get out there at that point, and jumped on the party as a safe way to see how it felt to be femme somewhere other than my apartment, sure it wasn't a terribly honest first time out, aside from a girl-friend of mine who was coming with me, no one there actually knew about "the secret!". Still, it was a fun first time out even though everyone thought it was sooooo funny that I looked soooooo femmy, so yeah I was getting laughed at, but I guess it was for the right reason?, weird.
Fast forward a year, now I'm dating Rebecca* who would go on to later be my wife, and Montreal pride is coming up fast. She is getting more comfortable with her boyfriend being a trans person, although she still has lots of lines that she isn't comfortable crossing (only in safe places, gay village, no straight world exploration, another story....), but we both figure the Pride parade is a great way for us to be out at the same time safely and relatively anonymously. The day goes well, she has to work that afternoon so I end up going back to the village with another friend of mine I'm out to, lots of fun, interesting conversation, etc etc etc, all good stuff.
During that year I start to attend a trans support group, great bunch of girls and guys, but I'm the only one there who isn't going through their transition, I'm the only "transgendered crossdresser" in the group. While the people were great and understanding, I always had the feeling that they weren't taking me terribly seriously, I wasn't on the 'mones, so I couldn't be very serious about all of this right?, ugh. After a few months of going there off and on, the time between visits started to get longer and longer, until I just never bothered going back. In retrospect, I was feeling alot of pressure (most likely self imposed) to transition while I was in that group so I could fit in better, but the thought scared the ever loving hell out of me, I wasn't ready for it then, so I (once again) ran away and hid from all of this.
Becca and I went to Pride again the next year (we're up to 2008 now for those keeping track), and again it was a great day. I had gotten in touch with an old friend, and the three of us spent the afternoon together out as girl-friends, enjoying the sunshine and live music, lounging out in a park with thousands of others around us all doing the same thing, typical Montreal afternoon. So now I'm coming out to old friends, some new, I'm going out, Becca is supportive, what do I do?, I go right back into the closet.
Looking back I still don't fully understand why.
I remember driving back home from either pride or the other day where we went out with my old friend, and I was talking to my mom on my cell. She had known about me for a couple years now, but had never agreed to see a picture of me, but over the past couple of weeks she had made it sound like she was OK with it now. I guess it got my hopes up... I asked her again which email to send a couple pics to, and she all quietly said that she actually wasn't ready, and would most likely never be ready, and I remember feeling absolutely crushed.
I also remember that while Becca was supportive, she's never been.... *into* it all..... I'm sure trans folk out there know what I mean by that. I was also feeling quite lonely, two pride events and I had barely seen any other trans folk anywhere, I hadn't met anyone, all my years of hunting online on all of the standard trans sites had resulted in ZERO people interested in just meeting other similar people for friendship (this city is seriously over-sexed), I guess something in my head / psyche just cracked, and Dawn hung up her heels for quite a while.
Between then and this past November, my trans-ness took another angle while I was subconsciously closeting myself. I may have not put my wig on or put on a full face, but I still wore women's clothing off and on. It started with undies, as it often does (LOL), and undershirts, nothing silly and frilly, just more fitted undershirts (like women's tops tend to be) which would fit under my men's t-shirts or polo's, and hanes boyshorts instead of my usual "athletics" (those tight boxers). At first it was once a week. I would still remove my women's under-stuff before bed, before Becca would see me wear them (she knew I was, I just had trouble letting her see me like that), then slowly over the months it became more and more often, to the point where she would ask me to wear some of my men's sexy undies for her just because I had been wearing femme undergarments so regularly. I started to wear women's lounge wear at home, mainly yoga pants, or loose comfy capri's, in the winter I would snuggle under one of my long knit cardigans (women's of course). I was (again, subconsciously) starting to integrate both my masculine and my feminine, just without actually dolling up completely. As those handful of years went by, I slowly went from hiding the fact that I was wearing a fitted scoop neck undershirt and black hanes panties, to sleeping openly in my femme clothing, wandering around the house in them the next morning, and chatting easily with Becca while lying there in a pair of panties. Sometime at the end of last year, I started wearing women's jeans in boy-mode (yes, to work as well, im a jeans -n- t-shirt person at the office), and after multiple frustrating shopping trips for jeans, I just stopped buying from the guy's side of the store, both Becca and I had to face it, my body isn't shaped like a regular guy's, and my CK size 30s fit me far better than any men's jeans I've ever worn. I started getting manicures, and while I dont wear color all the time (and definitely not to work), I always have a matte coat on my fingers. I've kept my body shaved all summer, and since its quite hot outside I've been wearing (women's) jean capri's to work, shaved legs plainly visible to anyone who wants to look (and oh yes, they've noticed, lol). Oh, and this January, I finally got my ears pierced.
So while I wasn't actually dressing, I was in a way dressing each day, softening my male side. My mannerisms and body language started to lose their macho overtones, I've always been naturally feminine when it came to body language, but like many trans people, I also became one heck of an actor and wore my "male" armor fiercely. That armor is gone now, and if anything, I'm coming across as a soft gay man.
I don't remember exactly when I *snapped* and napalmed my closet, but I'm pretty sure it was sometime last November. Becca was out working all day on a weekend, and I was puttering in the closet, and before I knew it, Dawn was standing before a mirror, barely any makeup, and the camera was out, snap snap snap snap snap, and 100+ pictures later I had created a Flickr account and posted a few new pictures. There was no leading up to this, no decision, it just kinda happened. Becca came home that night to Dawn, and it was a pretty fantastic night, she was happy to see me happy even though for her, this meant dealing with trans stuff again.
A few more dress at home's, stopping off at Dynamite for some shopping in boy mode, then before I knew it we did our first trans club outing, then the very next day (St Patricks day) I went out all on my lonesome to the (gulp!) straight part of the city, right downtown to the Bay Center, got a makeup consult at the MAC counter (right next to the main entrance to the Bay), walked up and down St Catherine street (for those who know Montreal, this is our biggest shopping street in the city) with literally tens of thousands around me, and the world didn't end :). Again, none of this was planned, or worked up to, it just happened. I remember being a little dissapointed by the fact that we got manicures (with color for once and while en femme!) and that I wouldn't be able to enjoy them again, so I just said fuck it, put on my face, and headed out.
Now I'm sitting here in my Jessica Simpson skinny jeans, in my Le Chateau black silk top, all dolled up, looking and feeling great, with Becca asleep next to me on the couch, and I'm resting my feet after a lovely afternoon's shopping with a good girl-friend of mine and her husband. I already have a small circle of trans friends that I've made in my past few outings, and the sweetest trans-oriented guy (he doesn't like the term admirer, this will be another post for the future, interesting stuff) that I keep running into that loves to make me blush (thankfully Becca thinks this is adorable and is not threatened). Things are definitely looking up :)
I've opened so many new avenue's for posts from this one, more to come later, this girl needs her beauty rest. Thanks for reading.
* - all names in this blog have been altered, but I will continue to use the same faux names for the same people to maintain consistency.
Wednesday 8 August 2012
An Introduction
Hi all, Dawn here, as of writing I'm almost done with my 34th year of life, and its been an interesting year to say the least.
This (writing a blog) is something that I've kicked around in my head for a while now, usual procrastination and thoughts of "oh why bother" had always kept me back and unmotivated, but I find myself needing to get some of my thoughts down somewhere semi-permanent (ok, I dont think Google is going anywhere anytime soon, lol) which hopefully will help me remember how I got to.... whereever I end up going!, lol. I dont know if anyone other than a close friend or two will read this, but if you find yourself here, welcome to my little nook of the net, feel free to drop me a line if you like, ill reply to any (respectful, not hateful) post or message sent my way.
So, a little back story, I'll write full posts on parts of my past later on. Again, I'm sure its a story you've all heard many times before, and if you are a trans person, you may have lived it yourself. I had knowledge of being 'different', of feeling like a girl from a very young age, I have memories of tweaking my clothing to make it look girly and staring at myself in the mirror from the age of 5. Puberty was hell in many ways, I recall waking up from dreams in which I was becoming a little girl and checking my body under the covers the second I awoke, when I saw that I didn't have little breasts growing, and I still had my willie, I was crushed, day after day waking up crushed, I don't have to tell you how much that sucks I'm sure. I went through the usual closeting, hiding it from all the girlfriends I had until they eventually found out (like is ALWAYS guaranteed to happen, it may take a year, it may take 20, but a loved one will always find out), until I was strong enough to come out to a woman only a few weeks into our relationship. And guess what?, she married me, confused trans and all she married me, crazy eh?, I know, lol.
So now we've been married for 2 years, and while we have our ups and downs like any married couple, we love each other madly. She has always been OK with the trans.... to a certain extent..... let me explain. See, when I came out to her it wasn't "I'm a crossdresser and I'll never go further than that", I tried to be as honest as I could which meant that yes I was a crossdresser, but I've always felt that it was something more than that. I never hated my male body (except for the hair, ugh!), and I never felt that I was a woman trapped in a mans body, but I always felt like I should have been born female, that inside I'm more than half female, I wouldn't be surprised if I turn out to be XXY (going to find out soon enough). Anyway, so yes, she is supportive, she sees how when I allow myself to be myself that I'm happier as both a guy and a girl. She encourages me to get out, comes with me often (although she is quite happy I'm making my own friends now), helps me with makeup and outfits, after which she steals half of my clothes, and tells me that if I do end up transitioning that she will support me. And here is where the mindfuck comes in, she would support me in transition, while she is completely cisgendered she empathizes with our struggle, and would never want to force me into a male shell if it really is wrong for me, but she is a straight woman, and at this point in time she can't see herself with a woman or as part of a lesbian couple, so we both know that if I do go down that path that it will most likely be the end of us. I can't fault her in the least for feeling this way, I really can't, I try to put myself in her shoes and I can't say for sure that I would stay if the situations were reversed.
It kills me that the person who has supported me the most will be the person the most hurt if her support helps bring me to transition. I hate that, I really really hate that.
So that brings me up to now. I'm getting out and about as often as I can, enjoying it immensely, making connections and friends in the local trans community, really building that support circle that I've been missing for so long. I'm also waiting for a certain therapist to come back from vacation so I can book my first appointment with her. She is a therapist that specializes in transgendered issues, and is one of the "gatekeepers" in Montreal with the power to provide the letters and testimony that a trans person needs in order to be allowed access to horomones, legal changes, and surgeries, so yeah, if I am destined for that life, she will be the one to lead me there.
Wild stuff
Until next time, thanks for dropping by, take care all
This (writing a blog) is something that I've kicked around in my head for a while now, usual procrastination and thoughts of "oh why bother" had always kept me back and unmotivated, but I find myself needing to get some of my thoughts down somewhere semi-permanent (ok, I dont think Google is going anywhere anytime soon, lol) which hopefully will help me remember how I got to.... whereever I end up going!, lol. I dont know if anyone other than a close friend or two will read this, but if you find yourself here, welcome to my little nook of the net, feel free to drop me a line if you like, ill reply to any (respectful, not hateful) post or message sent my way.
So, a little back story, I'll write full posts on parts of my past later on. Again, I'm sure its a story you've all heard many times before, and if you are a trans person, you may have lived it yourself. I had knowledge of being 'different', of feeling like a girl from a very young age, I have memories of tweaking my clothing to make it look girly and staring at myself in the mirror from the age of 5. Puberty was hell in many ways, I recall waking up from dreams in which I was becoming a little girl and checking my body under the covers the second I awoke, when I saw that I didn't have little breasts growing, and I still had my willie, I was crushed, day after day waking up crushed, I don't have to tell you how much that sucks I'm sure. I went through the usual closeting, hiding it from all the girlfriends I had until they eventually found out (like is ALWAYS guaranteed to happen, it may take a year, it may take 20, but a loved one will always find out), until I was strong enough to come out to a woman only a few weeks into our relationship. And guess what?, she married me, confused trans and all she married me, crazy eh?, I know, lol.
So now we've been married for 2 years, and while we have our ups and downs like any married couple, we love each other madly. She has always been OK with the trans.... to a certain extent..... let me explain. See, when I came out to her it wasn't "I'm a crossdresser and I'll never go further than that", I tried to be as honest as I could which meant that yes I was a crossdresser, but I've always felt that it was something more than that. I never hated my male body (except for the hair, ugh!), and I never felt that I was a woman trapped in a mans body, but I always felt like I should have been born female, that inside I'm more than half female, I wouldn't be surprised if I turn out to be XXY (going to find out soon enough). Anyway, so yes, she is supportive, she sees how when I allow myself to be myself that I'm happier as both a guy and a girl. She encourages me to get out, comes with me often (although she is quite happy I'm making my own friends now), helps me with makeup and outfits, after which she steals half of my clothes, and tells me that if I do end up transitioning that she will support me. And here is where the mindfuck comes in, she would support me in transition, while she is completely cisgendered she empathizes with our struggle, and would never want to force me into a male shell if it really is wrong for me, but she is a straight woman, and at this point in time she can't see herself with a woman or as part of a lesbian couple, so we both know that if I do go down that path that it will most likely be the end of us. I can't fault her in the least for feeling this way, I really can't, I try to put myself in her shoes and I can't say for sure that I would stay if the situations were reversed.
It kills me that the person who has supported me the most will be the person the most hurt if her support helps bring me to transition. I hate that, I really really hate that.
So that brings me up to now. I'm getting out and about as often as I can, enjoying it immensely, making connections and friends in the local trans community, really building that support circle that I've been missing for so long. I'm also waiting for a certain therapist to come back from vacation so I can book my first appointment with her. She is a therapist that specializes in transgendered issues, and is one of the "gatekeepers" in Montreal with the power to provide the letters and testimony that a trans person needs in order to be allowed access to horomones, legal changes, and surgeries, so yeah, if I am destined for that life, she will be the one to lead me there.
Wild stuff
Until next time, thanks for dropping by, take care all
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