Hi everyone!
I've been gone from Susan's for about a year, just fiddling with life, trying to find directions. Columnist Jack Smith of the L.A. Times wrote that "the purpose of life is to see what happens next."
BRIEF BACKGROUND: I'm a post-op M2F (1999 SRS operation with Menard in Montreal, 2001 craneo-fascial surgery with Osterhaut in San Francisco). I worked 30 years in sound editing at several major Hollywood studios. I faced some tough times in transition, doing the usual "shall I kill myself?" I learned that my training as a male could be helpful, in this instance: Males are trained to ignore pain; to not, above all, be a "wuss." The best thing a gender-psychologist ever told me was to "do what guys in the military do -- be in CONTROL -- don't let emotions get hold of you." It's this training that keeps guys from running away from battle. Of course, the down side is that it can also get you killed. I've found that the best medicine for angst is to do what guys are trained to do from their childhood on -- ignore pain. If I think about the pain that society is inflicting on me - either through lack of work or more overt discrimination - I will drive myself nuts. And that, of course, is often what happens to TS's in transition. The introspective psychology involved in getting the SRS permission letter probably works against this lifelong-training to ignore pain. Psychologists urge dealing, considering the pain. My happiest times are when I look away from that pain. I find that there is peace in Nature around me...a tree, a river, clouds above. Who needs self-torture? I know what I wanted - to transition - and damn anyone who argued all the obvious negatives. I know 'em all.
One thing I didn't expect, after transitioning, SRS and living life as a female for the last twelve years, is a certain amount of loneliness. Transition caused the breakup of my 21-year relationship with a wonderful woman. Unfortunately, she never could accept that being TS was anything other than an overwhelming compulsion that could be ignored if I chose. At one harsh point she pondered aloud whether being TS was "like a lifetime mental illness." Other times, she voiced her cautions because she truly loved me and didn't want to see me hurt. But ignoring being TS, as many of you know, isn't possible if you're truly TS. And I was, and am. Female, that is...
The loneliness I face now is caused due to the dilemma of dating...
PROBLEM #1: When I first transitioned, I tried dating both men and women but found myself still attracted to women. Men that I dated seemed interested in one thing -- sex. Also, I began to fear that men might hurt or kill me if they found out my male past. Further, I felt guilt that I didn't want to inflict pain on them -- men sometimes get very upset, doubting their "manhood" for dating someone like me. Why inflict that possible pain? So, I felt, better to stick with women.
PROBLEM #2: Sex is something that I've never been particularly active in or even desirous of. I know it's strange but, to me, it just hasn't seemed that important. Most women I date want some kind of active sexual life. I had two lesbians say they had "fallen in love" with me. This was great because I felt the same way. Unfortunately, when I wasn't that interested in sex (hugging and touching is far more emotional to me), they walked away.
PROBLEM #3: The dilemma post-op TS's face is "when to tell a person who is falling for you about your male-gender past." You certainly can't announce your being TS in your post on an internet dating site because that seems to just get people who want to date you because of WHAT you are rather than WHO you are. I always felt that, if people who were missing arms or legs could find love, than I must be able to, yes? Apparently, so far, the answer is no.
Lesbians that I've dated have shunned me upon finding out my male past, again dredging up the constant dilemma that TS's face...that we are "liars." I'd hoped, after the lie of living as a male for most of my life, that, after transitioning, the accusation of lying would end. I am what I am now! But lesbians have asked, "Why didn't you tell me about your past in the first place?" Many internet posts even state, "no liars." Will I ever escape this Catch-22? If I tell them at the beginning, they will leave. If I tell them later, they will leave.
Sometimes, as the saying goes, I wonder if the "purpose of my life is to serve as a warning to others." "Be careful what you wish for -- you just may get it." Other times -- most times, in fact -- I revel in wonder at the beautiful world around me. My favorite saying, I believe, comes from a Budhist thought: "Happiness is freedom from want." If I can just relax my hopes and expectations, I can then begin just enjoying the world.
Maybe my life, like many others, will be a single one...enjoying what I see around me but not having anyone near me, close, to share it.
I still have hopes, of course. Despite what I've written above, I'm a relentless romantic. I still get emotional during silly romantic comedies like "You've Got Mail" or "Lost In Seattle"...which, fittingly, is near where I live now.
I'm waiting for that last scene...you know the one: Where my love and I rush together as music builds to a beautiful crescendo.
But, of course, we all want that.
Hugs, Teri Anne
