I think it can be hard and confusing, especially when you think about other people (ie, family) and wanting their acceptance.
I know for myself, before I finally transitioned, there were times when I tried growing facial hair. In a way, it was a mask and a way to protect myself. A way to hide myself behind something and give the illusion that I'm "normal." I have some pics of myself where I try to look very guy-ish, yet, my personality didn't match and I was very, very effeminate. People could see that miss-match the moment they met me. The looks didn't fit my personality, my voice, my mannerisms.
It took a lot of inner strength to really go ahead with transition. It was hard, because yes, I did lose family around me. It's still not easy. At the end of the day, however, I'm proud to be the woman I am. I've had SRS and I'm very happy with that (and thankful that I got it, 'cause at the time my provincial health insurance covered SRS, which it no longer does... other wise, it would have been a much longer wait). I haven't had any FFS, but if I had the money I would consider it (a lot of ppl say I don't need it, but, sometimes I think I do).
Part of the reason why it was hard is because I group a pretty rough childhood. I was very effeminate from the get go, I'd get beaten up at school and at home. My grandpa would ensure that I would get a buzz cut 'cause I would often want longer hair. In my late teens, I grew it longer once, but out of great depression and the way I was being treated (got caught wearing make-up, again, and beaten for it) I shaved it off. The buzz cut, for a while, was also a way of hiding and also a way of trying to protect myself.
When I moved away from home, I had planned that I'd run away, somewhere, and transition. There wasn't much info out there at the time, and I had no idea what to do or where to go. Internet wasn't very common back then. Of course, I found myself on the streets and then the Church (Mormon/LDS), in which I went to as a teen 'cause of my grandparents influence, helped me out.
I should note, that when I lived at home I lived with my mom and it was her bf that would usually beat me up. I grew up very poor, in a house full of addicts, etc. My grandpa would come around, and usually take me out for a day and provide some sanctuary. He'd then started sending me to church, and then I made some friends there. Of course, being trans there was out of the question. And, of course, I'd see all of the happy families and people who had stuff, and I wanted that. I wanted to be away from my harsh life. Although, I now understand that in reality ppl should have taken me out of the situation I was in, rather than ignore it and use my situation for leverage in getting me to convert, conform, etc. My brother went along with the mormon dream... he doesn't talk to me anymore.
Anyway, the church helped me find some mormon roommates, paid my rent for a bit, got me food, etc. But, of course, there was still that long-time concern about me being too "feminine" and they saw that I was at a "risk" of becoming gay or transsexual. And, at that time, too, I started questioning more and not going to church 'cause I wasn't living in an abusive situation and I was starting to feel that I could control my life. In other words, I wasn't feeling a need to escape in church.
My grandparents, of course, were upset and so was the church. They pushed me to go onto a Mormon mission. It was difficult. I didn't want to go, but there were expectations and of course the church helped me off the streets so I felt some sort of obligation. I didn't want to disappoint.
The church felt the mission would "man-me-up" and while I was there, I was to undergo ex-gay therpay via the church.
And, that happened. I was sent off, saw by councellers in the church who tried therapy on me to make me not-trans. They also had a private psychologist who perscribed a slew of medications, theorizing that I would no longer have transsexual feelings if I wasn't depressed. Also, I was perscribed several anti-psychotics, in theory, they would get rid of those thoughts. I was taking 32 pills a day. It messed me up good.
I wasn't a good missionary. I rebelled a lot to try to get out. I ran away a few times. I broke rules. I refused to try to convert anyone to the church. I finally rocked enough waves that I got sent home after a year, rather than the standard two year mission.
Still, even after that, I was very messed up. I refused to go to the church, much to the dissapointment of my grandparents. Again, ending up homeless. Then in a youth shelter. Then in a group home. Then in a psych-hospital for a year. I was a mess.
It took me several years after that experience to get better mentally and emotionally. During that time, I went back and forth from going behind the male mask, to not. There was a lot of fear involved. It took a lot of time, and strength to over come it. I think in some ways, I still have it. I still think in some ways, I long to be accepted by those around me. And, yes, even after 4 years, it still hurts that much of my family won't talk to me and have out-right rejected me. I still talk to my mom, who's pretty much the only family member who really talks to me.
Now, things are much better in a lot of ways. In other ways, I still think I'm recovering from my rocky childhood and messed up teens years and early adulthood. But, being who I am, my true self, the woman I am without apology probably has been the biggest help in my life and the road to recovery. My life has changed a lot since back then.
Anyway, I'm telling you a bit of my story not to hi-jack your thread or anything, but just to share with you a bit about myself and a bit about the psychology of masks. I know of a lot of mtf who have gone through periods where they have tried to put that mask on. Facial hair is one of them. Another is picking stereo-typical male jobs, like construction.
I think that most people want to feel accepted in one way or another. I know it can be difficult to make the steps to be yourself and have to deal with the fear of not being accepted, of losing what you have, and going in a direction where you're not sure where you'll end up.
In the end, it's important to be yourself (whomever that may be), 'cause I've found the long-hard way that trying to be someone else for everyone else never makes one happy. In the end, we have to make ourselves happy... But making yourself happy isn't always so easy.
Good luck on whatever path you choose. *hugs*
