It's been 2 years since I began my transition to living an authentic life as the woman I know myself to be. A lot has happened since then; most of it good. My worst fears did not materialize. My wife did not leave me. She is my most devoted friend, companion, and, yes, lover. My two sons have accepted me as their 2nd mom, and I'm still hopeful that my daughter will do so too, eventually. She's had a hard time losing her dad. Three of my four sisters have been marvelous; the fourth, well, religion messed her brain. My past friendships are a mixed bag. I've lost some, but others have become even closer. For that, I'm very grateful. But even more wonderful is all the new friends that I've made since.
My lifetime struggle with gender dysphoria (the anxiety and distress of being born a male-bodied woman) is over. I don't consider the remaining complaints about my body GD. It's been over 8 months since my sex change operation. I am now a female in both body and mind. The peace and satisfaction I feel at having corrected my mind/body incompatibility has been epic.
I would be remiss if I didn't highlight the wondrous effect of hormone therapy. The hostile male body chemistry that once was, has been replaced with one amenable to feminine physical and mental development. The physical transformation brought about by hormone therapy in combination with facial feminization surgery has erased most of the maleness that I so despised. The results speak for themselves. It's more than I ever expected at the outset. I have been very fortunate in that regard. I can blend into the outside world as a woman and avoid the reproach that being trans often invokes.
Gender transition is the most difficult thing I have ever done. It required an intensity of mental and physical effort that I now wonder how I was able to sustain. The drive to complete what nature, society, and medicine withheld from me eventually became so overpowering that I was willing to do anything and everything possible to achieve gender congruence.
I used to be astonished at those who embark on a transition journey. I still admire the courage required to do so. The path is perilous and the final destination uncertain. Some are ambivalent about where they fall within the gender spectrum. Many do not have the means to undergo the necessary physical changes needed to be gendered correctly. The barriers and limitations are myriad. Many fail to achieve peace of mind. For me, transition has been a rebirth opening up a whole new world of experience.
The ultimate test is maybe the hardest of all: socialization; to find a place in the world as my new self. There are so many land mines and pitfalls to navigate. Having been socialized as a male for so many years interferes with my ability to assume the ideals, sensibilities, and behaviors of the average female. My vocabulary, body language, manner of dress, emotional expression, interaction with other women and men, etc. will affect my ability to function effectively, make friends, and fit into social situations. I'm still working on these subtle, yet critical, aspects of being a binary woman.
One thing that is beyond my control, however, is the way others perceive and react to me. I've found that if someone doesn't know that I'm trans, they react in, what I see as, a very natural man-to-woman or woman-to-woman way. Throw in the knowledge that I was "born male", and things change in subtle ways. It sometimes shows as people becoming overly accommodating; at other times avoidance; still others rudeness. I'm still coming to grips with that reality. There's nothing I can do to change how others feel about trans people. Hopefully, in time, it will get better. In the mean time, I have to deal with it within myself.
My wife and I will be spending this coming winter in the southwest region of the U.S. I plan to avoid revealing my trans status to others to see how well we, as a same-sex couple, can integrate into the cis world. I'd like to believe that I can eventually leave my medical past behind, and just live a happy, less complicated life.
