I'm Karen, maybe. Actually I chose this name years ago on a whim because I needed a female name for support group meetings. I'm not sure I like it.
My earliest memories were of trying to remove my extra appendage. Luckily I wasn't fond of pain, so I never did anything that caused any permanent damage. I continued to do this through elementary school anyway. While I did have guy friends, almost all of my friends at this time were girls. I never really liked playing with dolls though, so that's where the guy friends came in for riding bikes and stuff. Life was great, that is, until 4th grade. Suddenly a segration started happening in the lunch room between boys and girls. Despite having tried to remove my appendage, I still believed I was a boy, so I sat with them. They wouldn't allow it and I got up to go sit with the girls, who also wouldn't allow it. I spent the rest of elementary school eating lunch alone. Most nights, I prayed that I'd wake up as a girl. To this day, I get nervous about cafeterias, wondering if I'll have someone that lets me sit with them.
At this point, I went into full-on portray as a man mode. Starting in middle school, I hung out with the wrong crowd and my grades went from straight A's to straight F's. I ended up in therapy. I knew what the problem was, but I was ashamed, so I never told the therapist or my mother. I started weight-lifting around this time too, but could never bulk up. In reality, I always held back because I didn't want to get too masculine if there was any chance I could one day be a woman.
By high school, I started doing more things that I really didn't like. I joined marching band because my father was in the band and I wanted him to be proud. All he did was pick on me for not being as good as him. So I joined wrestling, and despite being one of the absolute worst wrestlers in the history of the school, I pushed through it for 4 years of hell. It wasn't good enough. I joined JROTC as well and excelled at it, still no good.
After high school, I enlisted in the Marines. I still wasn't good enough. I got my class A CDL to drive tractor trailers. I was still not tough enough. I tried skydiving, but I was still a wuss. I was repeatedly reminded by my very abusive and homophobic father that my mother messed me up because I wasn't tough enough. No matter what I did to portray myself as masculine, it just wasn't happening. I have a gay uncle that's not allowed over my dad's house because he gets beat up when he tries to visit. I'm not allowed to have long hair because it's not masculine. I'm not allowed to show any emotion except anger. I've grown up in fear of this man and I still am terrified of him to this day, at nearly 40 years old. How to handle him if I go full-time is a topic in every therapy session I've ever had and I still don't know how to handle it. I find it strange that he married a woman that's tougher than most men I've ever met in my life, yet I'm not allowed to cross the boundary the way she did. It was shortly after my truck driving career attempt that I discovered the internet and found that transition was not only possible, but that other people had done it. I was very thankful that I failed to remove my appendage when I found out that it was necessary for surgery.
So here I am. I've had enough of being miserable to keep everybody else happy. I'm taking it slow. I'm building up my wardrobe and now have nearly half my wardrobe as female. I spend several days as a woman from the time I wake up till the time I go to bed. I work on makeup every day, trying to get it right. I work on my voice every night. I'm avoiding stylists at all costs while I grow my hair long, yet again. The last one cut off way too much, even after I told her that I was trying to grow it long. I've been doing electrolysis and therapy and will have my first support group meeting in over 10 years, in less than a week. I don't know if transition is in my future, but I know that the only time I ever look in the mirror is for shaving because I don't like what I see. I know that I'm happy in girl mode and miserable in male mode. I know that I can't continue this way. I'm not suicidal and could never actually do that, but I do have several times where I go to bed and hope I won't wake up.
