I suppose it's time I wrote an introduction, since I seem to have many confused with my posts that bounce around with my task of challenging and confirming my diagnosis. This will be long and unedited so bear with me.
I am 37 years old, I work for a practice in the Dallas/Fort Worth area. I am a computer manager with a huge task. My job includes building and repairing pc's, configuring and maintaining networks, servers, and routers, and helping with every question that could possibly come up from, "what do I do?, I ran out of mousepad and need to click this box" to "Could you build for us a tele-conference system with video and have it run on our 256k bandwidth backbone?"
I am married to a beautiful, wonderful, understanding woman. She has two daughters from a previous marriage that I took under my wing and watched them grow. Last year we had our first and only child, a son. We have a beautiful home, and we were pretty happy starting this year. We have been married for 5 years. We have had some rocky times. We survived my first effort to transition and seeing my first gender therapist, Dr. Carolyn Long.
Let me take you to my childhood. It was unlike most I have ever heard of, read about or seen. I was born in April of 1968 in Denver, Colorado. I was told I was a mistake (later in life and a product of a rape) and I was treated as one. From my earliest memories all I remember is hunger, smell, and beatings. I remember fighting dogs for food and have scars on my arms from losing such battles. One day I had been eating out of the dog dish, and I don't remember what dog it was, but I can still see its squinted golden eyes staring a hole through me as its snarling beak leaked my blood through its canines clamped to my forearm. Out of the corner of my eye, a metallic object clanged down on the snarling beast's head and it yelped and let go. The only image I had of my mother, until I found her at the age of 21, was that of her feet as they walked away, leaving me sitting in a pool of my own blood. I was maybe 2 or 3 years old. I remember setting the stove on fire, as I would get up at night to get food out of the cabinets and accidentally turned the gas on and knocked a bag of caramel onto the lit burner. I was told I would climb anything and nothing was safe. I remember my aunt would come and get me once a week to give my brother and me clean clothes and change diapers. Without her, there is no doubt I would have not lived. I don't remember when my parents divorced nor do I know what led to the events, nor how my father ended up with the custody of my brother and me, but I wonder what life would have been like had fate played a different hand.
From there it was out of the frying pan into the fire. Around the age of 5 my father remarried. For some strange reason I would sneak into the laundry room in our new home and get panties and wear them. I loved dresses that were hung in there and anything feminine. That went on for years. I would wear them at night sleeping. Sometimes I would wear them during the day, it was such a thrill. During these times I was beaten on a regular basis by my stepmother and father. I have had my nose broken twice and have been knocked through more than one wall. I've eaten more soap than I care to remember for things that were as innocent as any child comes up with today. I would have to hold my pee for hours on end, afraid to get up and go. I wet the bed I don't know how many times. If I got up to go to the bathroom I would be beaten. If I wet the bed I would be beaten. There were times I was so thirsty I'd make myself sick in the morning drinking gallons when I was finally allowed to be up. I have no idea how I managed to get women's clothes into my room and hide them, but over a period of years I had quite an assortment stashed behind things hanging on my wall, under my nightstand or stashed between the mattresses.
Around the age of 10 I discovered makeup. Since my stepmother was busy with her first child I had more freedom. I found myself stealing from King Soopers (major grocery chain in Denver). I had base, mascara, lipstick, eyeliner and all kinds of powders and shades. I spent many a night playing with these items. I got caught several times over the years and was beaten for doing it, but I still did it. I played trombone and I would always wear a bra during practice (1 hour a day).
The years rolled on as well as the beatings and finally I found myself at graduation alone. My parents never once attended a single event I ever did. I swam on the swim team and never once did they come cheer for me. I sucked at it anyhow, but I love to swim and I still do. That day of graduation I was scared and tired of my life and I seriously considered suicide when my Aunt who had just moved to Texas saved my life again. She invited me to go down with her and live. She knew I would say yes and had already driven to Denver and was waiting on me. The day after my graduation I called my dad at work and told him I was leaving. I didn't tell my stepmother until she noticed I was packing all of my clothes. There were several items she told me I would not be able to take, and she produced a pair of scissors and cut them up on the spot. I dont even remember what I told her on my last trip out of the house, I don't remember even looking back or saying anything at all. No goodbyes to anybody I knew, the neighbors, friends, brother or anybody. I hated my neighbors for never telling the truth. Several times the police visited but never was there once a case made for child abuse. I know why now. My father was a public servant and highly respected member of the Denver Fire Dept. Being able to leave Colorado, I was free from that life, and free from all that pain and suffering. I didnt talk to anybody I left behind for 19 years.
Moving to Texas did not cure me. I dressed up at my aunt's house constantly. She asked me about it and asked if I was the one taking her hormone pills. She had to take them and noticed they were missing. She was the first person that told me "I just cannot figure you out". She knew I was wearing girl clothes and doing things boys shouldn't but she really never knew just how deep my feelings were. I never really lied to her I just hid what I really wanted to be or do.
Once I was on my feet and living on my own I found myself buying lingerie, clothes, makeup and other items for a girl friend I never had. I dressed up as often as I could and I did find myself attracted to women. I have often wondered what it would be like to be with a man, and have fantasized about it. But I could not do that now because, well that would be gay being that I have this body. But in my fantasies I am a woman with a man doing anything I pleased. I had never been with a girl at this point and finally found out what it was like at the age of 19. I had a couple of opportunities in Colorado but was always confused or baffled about sex. I just didn't feel right and I did not really understand what to do. I was taught by my first and I did enjoy it but it was probably not what it would be like for a normal boy. I was a very late bloomer and didn't even start shaving until I was around 21 or 22. That was the time I found myself in the Army. I had lost my job and needed to get away so I went to a recruiting center and within two weeks I was on my way to bootcamp. I weighed at a grand total of 125 lbs. I had to go into a program to get my weight up to 135, which was the minimum weight requirement for a male.
Since I was part time Army, or Army National Guard, I only had to go to boot camp, then school, then home and only report once a month and report two weeks during the summer. I remember one night in the barracks (at AIT, the school I went to for Army training) I wanted to castrate myself. I took a rubberband and wrapped it up around my scrotum and got it really tight. It was a hell year because I could never dress up. I had to do something. After a while the pain was too unbearable and I had to release it. When I got back to Texas I decided for some dumb reason I needed to be married. I found a girl and we dated and I ended up getting married to her. After a year into the marriage I told her I really liked to get dressed up. She was not very open. Over the years she became more open and I told her I wanted to be a girl. Of course we went to counseling but it was not a very professional person and I do not even remember if she had a degree. Maybe just a counselor. Soon she and her family turned against me and since my aunt had moved to Virginia I was alone.
During those years I had a lesbian friend at work that would let me come over and get dressed up and we would hit all the bars in town. I have been to some of the coolest lesbian bars in Dallas. I loved it. We would go to country bars and techno bars or just about anywhere that suited us. This lasted for a long time. Depression set in and I started gaining weight. I mean a bunch. I always maintained between 150-165 and for some reason it just shot up. Maybe it was the hormones I was taking. That same lesbian friend would go to Mexico all the time because her lover was hispanic. She would bring back whatever I wanted and boy did I love taking those things. There were times when I panicked and would end up calling my mom crying, fully dressed not understanding what was happening to me. Meeting her was quite the experinece and I'll leave that for another discussion. Eventualy, after nine long years, I ended up getting a divorce and living on my own for a bit and started dating my current spouse.
I was still taking hormones when we married. I stopped them for a while then ended up where this all started. With Dr. Long. I finally admitted I was transexual and with the help of the internet and my spouse I finally agreed to a diagnosis. Dressing like a girl didn't do it for me. Passing as one and living the life of one is what did it. The clothes helped me do it because I was thin, nonmasculine, and had very feminine features. Those times were good because I could go out during the day or night and pass. When you can pass in a lesbian bar, then you are doing good. I couldn't do that anymore. I weighed too much and had gotten too old and my beard had grown in fully and I was much older. I first met Dr. Long 3 years ago and told her my life story and that I was self medicating on Mexican hormones. She told me that would not do and sent me to an endocrinologist, and that I should transition. Why I didn't finish it I really don't remember. Maybe I was scared when my wife was about to talk to the lawyers and started talking about selling the house. I thought I was cured because after 5 months of going to the endo I was feeling normal. Well I am not cured. One thing Dr. Long didn't tell me is that a TS is never cured until they transition to the point they are comfortable with themselves, or can see themselves for who they truly are. Well this go around I know that now so I am at this very point of deciding what to do. So do I have to transition? I suppose so. But only in baby steps.
Well here are my baby steps. First, lose all that weight and I have lost a lot. I started Jan 1 and I have already lost two jean sizes worth. I allow myself 1400 calories each day and work out for 30 minutes each week day. I am scheduled to hit my target weight at the end of June. Second, I am going to start electrolysis next week. When the weight comes off and I am back to a size 8-10 then I will start going out again to get my confidence back up and will have a good idea if living as a woman is right for me. Third, I am going to start taking Proscar to get my male system down and get my hair back up which is thinning on top. With these steps I will be able to determine how far I want to go, or need to go. They are all within my spouse's boundaries. If I have to go outside those boundaries (hormones), then that will be the time I transition all the way because when I commit to those, they will be for life. And taking those for life will mean within a couple of years I will not resemble anything that she wants to lie next to in bed and be intimate with. I have been down this path to transition before. So has she. I know what she can live with and when things go too far for her to cope. If I cannot control how far they go, then we will do what we have to do.
In the event I have another crisis like this one, such that I have absolutely zero control over my abilities to act normal as a male, then I will probably give in. I will give in because my wife cannot go through this every year, and I'm tired of it as well. I also do not want to put her through it, there is only so much a spouse can handle. Not knowing if I will get to the point where I have to transition is really bugging her. It is bugging me as well. Neither of us want to go ten years down the road only to have me have to transition. If it must be done then now is the time. For my sake because of my age, for her sanity, and for our child who is still very young. Also I cannot sleep more than 4 hours a night, and nights I get 5 hours are a blessing. I am depressed at work and I am running out of excuses as to why. I just cannot tell them the truth, ya know? I know keeping Lori under lock and key is not possible anymore. I'm thinking keeping her locked up for so long, she came out with a vengance. She has to be let out, and hopefully this will allow pressure to be let off without having to transition all the way. I can keep being a father and a husband. The floodgates are open in my mind and I really want to transition. I want to be the woman I have always felt I am. If I didn't have a child of my own I would probably have given in already. Well probably not, I am a fighter. I have done this before and I know if I start transitioning this time, I will go all the way and knowing that really scares me. No stopping in the middle of it this time because I feel fine. I usually go by the 72-hour rule. If you feel really strongly about something then wait 72 hours before making a serious decision and see if you feel the same. It's been over 2 months now and all I can think about is transitioning. I do question that as a cure, and until I have more therapy with our new therapist, Dr. Rita Cotterly (who has helped over 400 transsexuals) and go see a psychologist, I will sit and suffer in silence and begin my baby steps and hope the people at work don't have me commited for depression.
Coming here to Susan's helps. Talking to my spouse about it has been the best therapy. I was very open with her and told her what I really wanted. She knows what I want to do and is so loving and caring about it. She stated she would want to be there for my surgeries. We would have to split up, she needs a man. But we would remain friends and will always love one another.
We are in limbo now, still married, still in love and worried what the future will bring. She won't be surprised if I say I have to transition, nor will she be surprised if I say I have done enough, I can live like this (after electrolysis and thinning out and going out once in a while as Lori). Until those things are done I have no idea. I have been beating the keyboard and the internet to death searching for another cure, hope, or diagnosis. I know clothes don't make me a woman, so I may be just starting my real transition with these baby steps and not even admitting it to myself yet. I may get to my ideal weight and decide I'm much happier. I truly don't know the answer to that. I have had such a hard life and have been so depressed for so long, that living with my current spouse has been the best time of my life and I am not willing to give that up so easily. We have overcome some major ups and downs and I love her so much for sticking with me. She is the mother of my child as well. Maybe that is why I just cannot give in to transitioning without fighting and trying anything else. She is worth it. I wish you all could meet her and see my son. He is beautiful. I suppose the life I have helps keep me from not only acting on those strong and ever-vigilant impulses, but wanting to fight them away. I will give in a little for now and hope it is enough. I suppose if I was totaly miserable in my life I would be typing about how my transition was going instead. I'm not. Coming from so many years of hell I have found true love and what should be happiness. I am so sad though that this year has brought yet another attack of this dreadful problem. I have no doubts I am transsexual. My wife has no doubts either. How long can I hold this back? How far do I have to go before I find that inner peace? These and many other questions will be answered during this year. Until then, I will continue the good fight and live each day with my wife and family as if it were my last.
P.S.
I would like to mention that I feel I have never fit in. Not in school, not in the Army, not on my first job with all males for 12 years, and not with this new job with all females. This job is harder because I end up so envious all the time. Total jealousy makes me want to cry some days looking at what I could be. Puberty was hell and confusing. First I didn't bloom until really late, second I wasn't sure what I was supposed to do with a hard-on. I didn't like it and it was really annoying. I was a mess with girls that were blooming. I was so envious of them. They must have thought I was a dork because I never had a normal girlfriend. I had two, one was the biggest nerdette in school, the other was a goth chick. I really wasn't interested in kissing and touching or wanting to have sex. I did want it, but I just didn't feel I could. Now I know why...I just didn't have the right parts to match my mind.
Over the years I spent my life going from one project to the next in hopes of finding something that made me happy. I have dabbled in just about everything. I always seemed to lose interest in whatever new thing I tried after a while because it just was not doing what I needed it to do. From being a mechanic, to lawn service, to playing a guitar, to running my own business, college, electronics, hunting, fishing, running, you name it. Anything to get my mind off of what bothered me. I just cannot stop wanting to become a woman. It is a drive, an impulse, an uncontrollable urge unlike anything I have ever heard explained. I still swim. It is healthy and therapeutic. I can think when I swim. It is just me doing lap after lap and I love it. I am always looking for a project because that is the nature of a transsexual denying transition. To have a complicated project will keep me so focused and preoccupied nothing else matters. It is the times when I am alone, have little to do, or little to think about that it finds space in my head to come out and announce its presence.
Another thing I do love is playing video games. I have played every decent first person shooter ever made. It is the one thing I can do that will get me so involved that I can escape from that portion of my brain and feel comfortable. The harder and more complicated the game, the better I feel. The only other time I can escape like that is when I am lying next to my spouse and feeling her close against me letting my heart do the thinking.
Lori
