I didn't want to read a bunch of these introduction posts and then end up inadvertently copying bits from them, so please forgive me if this doesn't read like the rest.
Jane Fonda once said, "It's never too late - never too late to start over, never too late to be happy." As I sit here 11 days from my 33rd birthday those words ring much truer than I would ever care for. But let's rewind about 26 years. Why? Because that's when this all began of course.
My family has always loved boating, waterskiing, and just lounging in the sun. As a young child going to the lake every weekend was an incredible gift. And while we did not understand the sacrifices my parents made for us at the time, looking back I am filled with awe at their selflessness. Sorry, I'm rambling... Saturdays were lake days; up at 6am, on the lake a 8am, out of the water by 5pm or 6pm, and back home 2 hours after that. Sundays the rest of my family slept in, but I woke up early. Cartoons were nothing compared to Saturday... I wanted something different... To wear my sister's bathing suit from the previous day. At the time I did not understand why, but what I recall was a feeling of completeness.
As the years went on I discovered my mother's bridesmaids' dresses in our shed. I'd lock the door, strip down to my underwear, and pull on the most ridiculous late-70's bridesmaid dress. It felt right. When everyone else was gone and it was just me I'd open my sister's closet to put together an outfit I'd seen her wearing. This seemed almost normal to me, but not enough that I would share what I was doing with family members or friends. Deep down I knew they wouldn't understand. "Boys should dress and act like boys." And so the secret was born.
Throughout elementary, middle, and high school I would take advantage of my sister's, and later my mother's, wardrobes to satiate the desire to be girl. In a way it worked, but keeping a fire at bay by slowly feeding it fuel only builds a larger coal base. The desire continued to grow and I slowly found myself wishing I'd wake up in the morning as a girl so I could be normal.
My senior year of high school I got a job that allowed me to purchase my own clothes-- my own feminine clothes. Still living in my parents' house my options for "dressing up" were as limited as they had been my entire life. When I changed jobs and found something in my career field I was thrilled because I would be paid more, but it came at a cost, or so I thought... the hours. I started packing an outfit in my bag that I could change into in the back parking lot, drive home, then creep into my room so as not to wake anyone. I was never caught even though part of me wanted to be.
At 23 I met a girl who was wonderful. She was going to college and living near it, her parents lived maybe 30 minutes away. We dated for 4 years, during which I continued dressing as a woman when I could. Then I proposed. A year later we were married. That was 2011. Dressing as a woman becomes difficult when you're never home alone. When I changed jobs later that year I was able to periodically work from home. To me that meant a full day of feeling comfortable in my skin. But things would not stay the same...
About a month ago I reached a breaking point and shortly after getting into bed I broke down into tears. The secret that I'd sworn I would take to the grave came spilling out: I feel like I was meant to be a girl. To a woman raised Presbyterian those words probably sounded like a death sentence being pronounced on our marriage. It took me two weeks to convince her that I wasn't going to leave, but at the time I made a promise that now I'm not sure I should have... that I would remain a man. I believe that singular promise is what convinced her I was staying and also that she could stay.
You see, all of my life I have chosen to present as a man because it was all I really knew and because I didn't feel like people would be accepting of the truth. Don't get me wrong, being a man has been good to me-- I have no complaints beyond the obvious one. At the time I made the promise I working from the point of always making the choice each morning to be a man despite what my soul cried for. But now... Now I'm not so sure. I've been to two therapy sessions and discovered that I am deeply unhappy, depressed, and have been powering through those things for years.
So yeah... That's where I'm at. Torn between the love of my life and my soul's deepest need.
