Hi ladies,
I keep trying to start this, but it has already spiraled into a pages-long life story twice. I was an English major and am now an English teacher, and I tend to get somewhat long-winded at times, especially when I'm trying to sort things out. So, attempt three: I'll try to get right to the point.
Hi. Please call me Tegan. I am 33 years old, happily married, and I have come to realize in the past year that I am transgender.
Although I have pretty much always had certain thoughts and desires (I have fit the definition of a ->-bleeped-<-c since I was a kid), I never acknowledged them as anything more than fantasies. At the start of Summer break last year, I got really sick with the flu. At the same time, my wife was just starting a new job and having to put in a lot of hours, meaning that I was home alone in bed, drugged up (cold medicine makes me loopy), with nothing but the internet for several days. That's when, in my wanderings, I came across someone's transition timeline, and my jaw just dropped. I had picked up a little information about ->-bleeped-<- here and there, but this was the first time I saw just what a drastic change could occur through HRT. My image of the "man in the dress" was shattered.
Over the next couple of days, I thought about that timeline a lot. It was some nights later, when I was feeling mostly better but was still a little loopy from the medicine that I sat up late with my wife. We were talking and watching TV and joking and drinking. We were both just getting a bit faded and enjoying each other's company, as we are wont to do. Anyway, at some point in the night, I went upstairs to use the restroom and in the low light I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the mirror, and I saw HER. It was the first time that I had considered that I could even possibly look female, but in this light I could see it. My heart started pounding out of my chest, and I realized that this might be something I want. It was the first time I had ever thought this in a non-fantasizing capacity, and I have to say it scared me a lot.
So I was panicked for the next week or so, until I broke down and reached out to a friend, telling him everything. He was surprised, but supportive. We both agreed that I should do nothing rash. So, of course, the following night in a flow of tears and panic, I told my wife in probably the worst way possible.
It was a nightmare. "You have to be joking, please tell me you're joking." She doesn't always handle crisis well, and when she gets riled up, the claws and fangs come out hard. In an instant, I transformed from the man she loved, to the bitch who had lied to her. I tried to explain that I loved her, that I- me, whoever I was- loved her and that she loved me, and that our connection shouldn't go anywhere, because I was still ME and always would be. But she started in about how I was going to have to move out, how she would not have me in HER bed, etc. I realized that I had better go for a couple hours to give her time to calm down.
I got caught up in a serious traffic crunch, which gave me time to call my friend, who did the best he could to try to soothe me. I got to the movie theater 45 minutes later (it should have taken 10). I sat a little in the car to steady myself, then went up and bought a ticket. Within 5 minutes of sitting down, a realization struck me: I WASN'T transgender at all! What a ridiculous notion! I had just been confused. Alcohol and cold medicine and exhaustion mixed in with a bit of depression had tricked me into thinking the wrong thing. Imagine- the idea of me in a dress. Ridiculous.
I called my wife up immediately. "I was wrong. I'm coming home." We stayed up late that night, as I tried to explain how that aforementioned cocktail had led me down the wrong path of thinking. I have issues with my family, particularly my brother and my father, and I connected that my rejection of my maleness was really a rejection of them. "I grew up to be a very different man than either of them, and it confused me. I got my wires crossed." It's important to note that I believed all of this. My wife, still tense, accepted my explanation. The following day, I told my friend the same explanation. Now, all that remained was putting it all in the past.
It worked for a while. Summer fun (Comic Con!) was a welcome distraction, and as the new school year reared its head, I was informed that I was being transferred from the school that I had been at for the previous four years. I'm not always good with change, and the stress that came with this transfer was more than enough to keep my mind occupied for a while.
Slowly but surely, though, I started being haunted by the memory of my "coming-out" the previous Summer. I'd remember it, and feel a stab of shame, sharp enough to make me wince. These moments came more and more frequently, at least a few times a day.
By early February of this year, I started to soften again to the possibility that there was more going on with me. I began to look at transition videos and timelines again. I settled on a name. I've purchased a couple of books, and have a couple more on the way. I've stopped chewing on my nails and fingers, a 25- year habit. I've thinned my eyebrows quite a bit. I've decided to let my hair grow for a while. I see HER in the mirror quite often now. I've made no decisions about how next to proceed. I don't want to lose my wife.
Despite her initial reaction to the idea of HER, my wife is probably the best person I know. She is my best friend and we do everything together. We're that sickly-cute couple that people love to hate. In fact, we get a lot of flak from unhappy and ill-adjusted people, just by virtue of being us. But we love being us- weird, friendly, geeky, adventurous, creative us. Seriously, I love this woman. Before she came into my life, I was a mess of self-loathing and anger. She had similar baggage, but we've grown together and healed and evolved. I can honestly say that being with her has made life worth living and has taught me that I'm lovable. I stopped trying to hurt myself when she came into my life- all she had to do was ask. I stopped reliving the hopeless feeling I felt on my 25th birthday, which I spent under 72-hour observation after swallowing half a bottle of migraine medicine. When I met her, I started healing. I have learned to love myself and look at the world in such a healthier way, and I owe so much of that to my relationship with my wife.
We have no children, nor can we. Due to medical reasons on her end, we were never able to conceive, even with the fertility treatments covered by insurance. I think we've both come to peace with that. We have a menagerie of pets- cats, dogs, and a fish. They're our family. I love our family, and I don't want to lose it. I don't want to start over. I want the life I have. I'm not worried about friends, family, or work. Not really.
I'm not even especially worried about the money (though that is a concern as I have no idea what, if anything my insurance would cover). I used to think that my build was a deal-breaker, but not so much anymore. I am 6'0, 162 lbs, with (unfortunately) size 12 feet. So, there's things I can't change. This would have been enough to dissuade me in the past, but I've seen how much hormones can reshape soft tissue and I rather think I could pull off the tall, slender look (even with my feet on the larger side). At least I'd like to try.
The only thing I'm truly worried about is losing what I have with my wife. My fondest wish right now would be for her to just turn to me on the couch one day and say, "Go ahead. Do it. I love you, and we'll find a way to make it work."
But I know that I don't get to take it back the next time I bring it up, and the next time it comes up, I may very well get the same reaction as I did the first time around. I want this badly, but I'm not sure if I'm willing to risk what I have in my life.
This is really eating me up, and sending me on a roller coaster of emotions throughout my day. I'm just feeling lost and sort of alone. I've only recently discovered this site. So many of you are so brave, so admirable, and so beautiful. I know my story isn't wholly unique, and so I figured it might help me a little if I reached out.
So, this is me, being as brief as I can in my long-winded sort of way. But anyway, here I am. Hi.
Talk to me. Please.
-Teg
