Susan's Place Transgender Resources

Hello All,

Now that Susan's has risen from the ashes I wanted to restart or resume my blog.  I think for me, blogging about my journey has in many ways, been more impactful than my meetings with my therapist. 

So here goes...  Since there are (hopefully) new members on Susan's I will start with a brief of how I arrived here.  I was born in the US midwest to a conservative family and by the early age of 5(ish) I began to have feelings that were (apparently) not consistent with how little boys should feel.  It is painful to write about but sharing the following details may help others know that they are not alone.

Chapter 1.   

I essentially "came out" when I was 5 or 6.  I vividly recall watching figure skating on TV, I was enchanted with the female skaters doing their thing.  I loved their pretty outfits, their grace, their softness.  While I did not have words to describe my feelings I know now that I loved (and envied) their femininity.  Being an innocent child I spoke up to my parents and let them know that I wanted to be pretty like the girls on TV.  That did not go well for me.  I spent the next several weeks being mentally and physically abused.  I suppose my father and brother felt that they could shame and beat the girl out of me. 

So that is how it started, with trauma.  For the next many years I buried my desires deep inside me and did what I could to fit in.  This didn't really work super good as I was very small and never really developed like the rest of the boys.  For instance, I have some very feminine features such as small hands with long fingers, absolutely no Adam's apple, skinny arms, no brow ridge, etc.  All of which made me an easy target for the budding young Neanderthals of my schools.  Yay, more trauma. 

The feelings of gender while buried deep would often poke their head out, but because of the trauma of my early outing and the trauma of being picked on for being small, I would compartmentalize those thoughts.  I felt shame and fear and guilt for having them.  Something was wrong with me and I needed to make it all just go away. 

And so it went for many years until I hit puberty.  Puberty added more confusion to the mix with the raging sexual urges of a teen.  For many years that followed my desires to be feminine got mixed when the raging hormones sexualized objects of femininity.  I have vivid memories of walking through a Department store and seeing the lingerie sections.  Oh how I was drawn to the displays of bras and panties.  This was incredibly confusing.  My heart and spirit desired to wear these pretty items but my hormones saw them as something sexual.  Recalling the shame, guilt, and trauma of my early childhood I choose the hormone route as that was (in my mind) more acceptable and I would maybe feel less broken and more "normal", whatever that means. 

But I guess that is not really how our brains work.  We are who we are, regardless of how we try to fool ourselves.  That said, the shame, guilt, and PTSD of my childhood compelled me to deeply compartmentalize my feelings.  You know, box it all up, put it all in that locked mental closet, and throw away the key. 

The problem with that is those mental closets, they are never airtight.  Things will seep through the cracks, something will get out.  It always does.  In my case, and my guess is others, when things escaped I would go through the familiar cycle of buying female items, hiding the female items, purging said female items and feeling guilty and shame the whole way. Oh, fear too.  OMG, the fear. 

Over time more and more of the feelings I kept hidden trickled their way out. It happened little by little but it eventually became a constant struggle to keep it all in its closet.  The effects of this were emotional and social isolation.  If I keep my armor up and never let anyone in then I will never have to deal with my feelings and I will never get hurt again.  Right? 

Yeah, so again.  It apparently does not work like that.. 

I think the tipping point for me to acknowledge what I now know as gender dysphoria was when I was filling out a medical history form for a new Doctor's office.  You how it goes... name, date of birth, height, weight, SEX- MALE or FEMALE.  When I regained my train of thought I realized I had been staring at the MALE/FEMALE boxes for probably over 10 minutes.  10 minutes of reliving every traumatic and confusing moment of my young life.

What did I do about this you ask.  More compartmentalization, more social and emotional isolation of course!  I will chat more about how that all went but this is enough for now, more to come. 


Talk soon.

Warmly,

Brooke

Brooke!

What a great start you have made here...I am glad you are back at it little sister and I know that the threads of your life's journey will resonate with  the uncounted many who will read this in days, months and years to come...

Growing up while trying to figure this all out is a puzzle of immense complexity... we usually show up on the shores of adulthood with a large bag containing the unassembled pieces and decide it is easier just to bury the bag and hope for the best... eventually the pieces start popping out of the ground and demand we continue to assemble them... in the end, the picture they form is a beautiful thing and we often wonder why we hadn't put it together long ago... The truth is that there is a time for everything and we need to wait until the time is right.

I know your answers in this journey will be uniquely your own and it is an honor to be one of your traveling companions little sister!

Onward!

Ashley 😀💕🌻

Thank you dear @tgirlamg, your kindness and friendship have meant so much to me and I am certain a zillion others that are aboard this bazaar carnival ride!

I hope what I am and will be sharing is of use to someone.  It's therapeutic for me to put those thoughts to words and I hope other's will find solace in knowing that they are not alone.  The next blog entry is at the front of my thoughts but I need to step away for a day or so, it is just too emotional to jot it all down at once. 

Love,

Brooke 

Brooke, our stories are similar in many ways. I think it's a tremendous help to others, especially for those who are still searching for answers. Eventually they may read a story that resonates with them, and it may help them find their truth. It's also a great for us to occasionally go back to the beginning, and see where we started from. Sometimes our progress seems glacial, only by reading our own stories can we realize how far we have come.

Love always -- Jess

@Brooke Renee
Dear Brooke Renee:
I am so very glad that you made it back here to the Forum after our New Year's Day site crash.

It is terrific that you have re-started and are resuming your Blog thread.
As time goes on you may be able to find parts and pieces of your postings,
so please feel free to incorporate them into your new Blog thread.
    BTW:  I love the subject title "A Quaint Treatise of Brooke Renée"

I will be eagerly looking for your future postings on your Blog thread and
and elsewhere around the various threads and topics around the Forum.

HUGS,
Danielle

Alrighty, here we go with another installment. 

Chapter 2

I suppose my last post was from the childhood epiphany that I longed to be pretty to some point during high school.  So about that..  HS was not an easy time for me, for the first two years I was still small and still picked on.  Experience had taught me to keep hidden, avoid gym class, avoid sports.  Fortunately I was blessed with artistic talent and I fell right into the Art and Theater scene.  Yeah, I guess that is a bit of a cliche but it is what it is.  For the record, I was not acting, I was painting sets. 

Anyway, this was my niche and I was largely accepted by everyone which created a safe space during those tough years.  My feelings of femininity ebbed and flowed.  If they were too strong I would tamp them back into their box and try to keep going.  But art and theater are very expressive and I would often watch the girls in my classes.  I would note how they moved, their sense of style, but mostly how they were free to express themselves without hesitation.  There were times where I would become more expressive only to realize that I needed to "man it up" before I got picked on again. 

And so it went.  A life on the sidelines both from a gender standpoint and from a romantic standpoint.  Then during my senior year I met the girl that would eventually become my wife and we fell in love. 

It seemed like the budding romance helped keep the GD at bay.  I now realize that it was just a distraction and indeed the GD would return.  But now I had way more skin in the game, I had my relationship on the line.  God forbid, if she were to find out that I secretly wanted to be a girl she would be gone.  Life experience had certainly taught me that I was broken, that there was something deeply wrong with me, and if anyone ever found out I would loose it all.  So I layered up with more armor and kept all of that to myself. 

Now that doesn't mean I didn't have thoughts though.  Oh gosh, every date and every dance I would stare deeply at my GF with two thoughts coursing through my mind, what a beautiful woman I am with and dang it, I so wanted to wear that dress and have my hair and makeup done. 

And so it went.  We graduated HS, went to college and eventually became engaged.  All the while I would try to live my feminine dreams vicariously through her.  Sometimes I would sneak a peak in her panty drawer, once or twice I would try something on.  Each time this happened I would go through the familiar pattern- feelings of excitement and adrenaline followed by a brilliant moment of feeling whole and normal.  This was then immediately followed by fear and guilt and shame. 

I do recall one moment where you would think I would have been in total gender heaven.  My GF and her younger sister thought it would be fun to put makeup on me.  I agreed and they gave me the full treatment.  You'd think I would have been on cloud nine but nope.  I was so afraid of showing my cards that my compartmentalization went into total overdrive.  I played the straight face and it was an Oscar worthy performance!  I was safe but I was also very sad. 

You see, by the time the makeup event occurred I was coming to grips with a vague degree of self acceptance.  Essentially I knew I had been trying to fool myself with the notion that my feelings were simply a fetish or a hobby.  That's about it though... I was able to see that there was maybe more to it all but I was not in any place to acknowledge my "condition" any more than that.  In my mind, if I acknowledged my situation then that would make it more real and I would have to admit to myself that I was stricken with some form of a deeply deviant mental illness.

Then as my senior year in college approached our plans for the wedding solidified.  I had been hired for a lucrative career right out of college as well.  Life was about to get complicated.   

So many of us are wringing our hands in recognition of those self same feelings!  Go the distance!  Life is rewarding for all of us. Gender isn't a guarantee of happiness, not specifically i think. 

Find your balance.

Hello Again. 
 

Chapter 3

I wanted to pause my somewhat linear timeline for a chapter and talk about Gender Dysphoria and how I experienced this in my early years. 

Frankly it has only been about 5 years since I educated myself and gained the vocabulary that included the phrase Gender Dysphoria.  I suppose that may seem odd to many readers but let me explain. 

My greatest asset in maintaining my sanity was my keen ability of denial.  Yeah, I do say that somewhat tongue in cheek but honestly, I only laugh to hide my shame. Not really shame in having GD, just my shame that I had employed such a silly coping mechanism for so long.  Seriously, did I really think that I could make it my entire life simply denying I wished I was a woman?  Really?  Well, apparently I did. 

Anyway, from the age that I knew I was "different" to about five years ago my experiences with what I now know is GD has evolved a bit.  In the early years my feelings were best described as sense that I could relate better with the girls than I could with the boys.  School yard activities to sports and scouts, I just knew I fit in better with the girls.  I like art and crafts, I disliked sports and physical roughness, I loved exploring nature and was generally content with being alone rather than being with the boys. 

At this age I did not feel depressed when I saw my female classmates but I did know I rather be with them than the boys.  I certainly did not have a sense of body dysphoria or anything like that.  Probably the closest I would come to feeling the darkness of GD was envy.  I would be envious of seeing the girls all dressed up.  I would be envious of how they were treated differently than the boys.  I would muse that I wish I could be treated as they and not like I was being treated. 

I would not say that these feelings changed all that much for many years.  By that I mean, my feelings of envy did not really become stronger or darker but I would say that as I aged, the feelings of envy became more frequent.

As I approached my pre-teens and early teens is when I began to experiment with crossdressing.  This probably had a lot to do with the more frequent feelings of envy.  As I talked about in a previous post these were very confusing times, my mind was a cocktail of thoughts.  There was the envy and desire to be pretty, the raging hormones that sexualized everything, the fear and guilt of acting on anything.  I remember sneaking into a family member's room and trying on her clothes only to experience terror that I may be discovered.  OMG, how many times did I promise myself that I would never do that again only to be doing it again less than 48 hours later. 

But, the more I crossdressed then more my feelings of envy began to morph into darkness.  You see, once I got a taste of feeling feminine the more I wanted it and the more I wanted it the more I was envious of the girls.  And the more I was envious of the girls the more I began to dislike who I was.

Please don't misunderstand me.  I look back on these sessions and I now know, without hesitation, that putting on women's clothing did not make me transgender.  Rather, I put on women's clothing because I AM TRANSGENDER.  I was just going though a process to figure that out.   

But anyway, at the time these thoughts and actions would circle back to the guilt and shame I felt for having what I thought were un-natural feelings.  And so my vicious cycle of strong emotions became a commonplace.  Envy followed by an act of dressing which was immediately followed by shame and denial.  Rinse and repeat. 

This brings us back to where I left off in the previous chapter, my approaching wedding. 

Wow, Brooke --

Thank you for putting all of these memories and emotions down in words.  I think that your story will resonate with a LOT of members here and especially many of the guests of the site that are not yet comfortable enough to set up an account.  Keep going - I'm ready for chapter 4!

~Sara

Such great stuff, Brooke. Not just that you're being generous enough to share, but hopefully people can get a glimpse of just how much self-reflection went into you getting to the point where you can make all the pieces fit so well in your mind that you're able to paint this really clear, insightful narrative!

Love it! 😘

Thank you @TXSara and @imallie for your kind words and encouragement.  While not always comfortable, heck actually kind of cringy at times, sorting my life through written words has been therapeutic for me as well.  I try to discuss this stuff during my sessions with my therapist but I am not really good at that. 

I do sincerely hope that other ladies out there like us can find some fellowship in our shared experiences and know that they are far from being alone.  They need to know that the cars on the transgender carnival ride are  packed and the line to ride is very very long. 

Warmly,

Brooke

Good morning ladies, I tossed and turned quite a bit last night.  Lots of thoughts racing through my head, one that I kept coming back to was I needed to jot down some words about the good and/or exhilarating moments of my self discovery.  So far my story has been one of the not-so-good. Yeah, maybe I am procrastinating and avoiding the post nuptial Chapter.  Whatever.  In any case, here it goes. 

Chapter 4

Looking back at my early teen years and those moments of self discovery I must allow myself to laugh at some things, shake my fist at the cosmos for other things, cringe at a few, and finally hold dear some truly beautiful moments of self discovery.

I guess to get this party started, let's get right to laughter part.  I mean, I can laugh now but at the time this was some deeply serious stuff.  Total soul searching.  During all those moments where I was exploring my desires through dressing I was wrestling with what it all meant.  Why am I so drawn to women's clothing, what is this all about?  The word Transgender was not a part of my vocabulary.  What was a part of my vocabulary was the word "crossdresser". 

OMG, is that what I am?  Society had taught me that crossdressers were a deviant mix of néer do wells whose mere existence would bring the collapse of polite society or at a minimum, spread Venereal Disease.  That's right, VD.  How do I know this?  Because I just got done watching "the" SEX film in Health Class. 

Come on, some of you remember this.. The school would send home permission slips, once signed they would divide the boys and the girls into different rooms and show, presumably, the same film to each gender.  Pretty much a vain attempt to stave off free love, teen pregnancy, and the spread of a disease that was the hallmark of the unwashed masses. 

What I took home from this experience was 1) I wonder if the girls watched the same film?  2) VD was spread by people that engaged in naughty behavior and my recent desires were clearly in the naughty column.  In my little brain, it was just a matter of time before I gave myself VD. 

Oh wow, that little jaunt down memory lane is hilarious but in my defense, I was young, I was terrified of these feelings, and okay, I was not the sharpest tack in the box. 

Anyway, I found myself at an existential crossroads.  I could define my activities in one of two ways.  I could label myself as a "crossdresser" which would certainly mean a life living in the gutter plagued with painful urination or...  I could simply accept that I had a sexual fetish.  That seemed to add up.  I mean, my raging hormones sexualized everything.  Seriously, everything..  Shoot, a vaguely well timed episode of Judge Judy would do it for me but I digress. 

Don't get me wrong, I wrestled with the fetish label too.  Thinking back to what I saw on the Phil Donahue Show, people with fetishes were definitely in the same zip code as the crossdressers.  But it still seemed the lesser of the two evils.  Looking back and laughing, I'd say I laid a pretty solid foundation of denial.  Nice work for a young teenager! 

Fate, or the humor of the cosmos, also had a hand in my confusion and torment.  Maybe torment is a strong word, perhaps looking back the cosmos was simply trying to nudge me in the direction of more self discovery.  However labeled, it seemed I was frequently at the right places at the right time to keep my feminine feelings at the front and center. 

Here's one vivid experience I will forever recall..  I was walking along the road not far from home and I stumbled across an adult magazine that someone had discarded, it was one of those adult magazines that featured explicit stories.  To add complexity my life, the universe found it humorous to make this magazine the "feminization" issue.  Seriously.  Page after page, story after story.  It was treasure trove of literary masterpieces in which loving partners transformed their husbands and boyfriends into beautiful women. 

"What the French Toast" universe!  I had just recently compartmentalized my "hobby" as a fetish and now this?  Really?  They repeatedly used the word "crossdresser" too!  Oh God, I knew I was doomed.  I was going to be cast aside by society AND I was getting VD for sure. 

One more experience that added fuel to the fire.  This was a time when my mom seemed to be rediscovering her love for shopping at the local mall, she and I have always had a very close relationship so she would bring me along for company.  It did not matter where we parked, it did not matter what store we walked into, we would ALWAYS walk directly into or past the lingerie section.  Every store, every time.  All day long I would come face to face with rack after rack of the prettiest bras and panties available.  Heck, this even happened in stores that did not typically sell women's wear!  Much less lingerie!  I was once again doomed. 

I did not really realize it at the time, I guess looking back I do now.  The universe WAS nudging me toward a beautiful moment of self discovery.  As my mind quieted, as my hormones settled, I was able to experience what I now know as moments of affirmation.  I remember my first time putting on women's underwear when my mind was not clouded with fear or hyper sexualization.  It was a moment of exquisite clarity .  The house was empty and I had plenty of privacy.  Taking my time, I carefully entered a family member's room, opened her dresser and selected the most feminine pair of panties she owned.  They were silky nylon trimmed with lace in a beautiful pastel peach color.  Stepping into the garment I did not feel fear nor did I feel arousal. Instead, I felt pretty, I felt normal, I felt complete.  At that moment in time, I knew without hesitation, that I did not have a fetish.  There was something to this and I needed to figure it out.

Good Morning Ladies.  I am not sure I am in the best headspace to write another chapter, this stuff is not super easy to talk about.  But maybe it's therapeutic.  So I guess here we go. 

Chapter 5

If you have suffered through my previous chapters you know that I, like many, knew I was not like the other boys from an early age.  Because of cultural conditioning, and a fair amount of domestic violence, it was very clear to me that I needed to hide. 

Unfortunately, the feelings we all have do not hide well.  At least not very well from ourselves.  Sure I could play the part and I might be somewhat convincing on the outside but none of that could cloak the tempest raging between my ears, in my heart, and in my soul. 

Compartmentalization became my only savior.  As I chatted earlier, I was very troubled with labels such as crossdresser.  I felt having that title on my metaphorical name tag would make it official, I was broken.  So I suppose I compartmentalized my feelings in a box without a label.  That's it, just an unmarked mental box.  Granted, it was an unmarked mental box that I opened frequently but unmarked nonetheless.  Simple enough right?  I mean, every label that society offered came ladened with unsavory connotations so I will just live without a label. 

I now know that box did have a label, it was written in a language that can only be read when one has accumulated the wisdom of ages.  Looking back that box was clearly festooned on every side with the word DENIAL in big bold pink lettering with sparkles, and maybe a rainbow.  There was probably a unicorn too. 

Anyway, I lacked the vision at the time to see that so I motored on. 

My compartmentalization game was very strong though and I managed to limit my feminine desires to just panties.  Nothing else.  As the years passed that dam would prove porous but for the time being it held.  Oh gosh, I remember hanging out with the guys and an image of a woman in lingerie would appear on TV or in a magazine.  Everyone would Ooo and Ahhh.  To fit in I would do the same but internally I would be thinking that while her choices were very pretty they would not work on my figure. 

So that is how it went.  I was very successful in hiding my true identity, no one knew a thing. 

As I approached my wedding day however I began to get panicked.  Here I was, about to wed the woman of my dreams and I possessed this deep secret.  Surely she would drop me like a bad habit if she ever found out.  We both came from traditional type families so we did not live together prior to our marriage.  Keeping my secret whilst alone is one thing, keeping it when married is another.  Keeping my feminine nature hidden when married to a very feminine presenting woman is a whole other kettle of fish.  I knew I was about to be surrounded with all the trappings of the life I so desired for myself.  How in the heck am I going to control myself, how am I going to keep from ruining everything?

My only answer was to strengthen the box.  More layers, more locks, more hiding.  At all costs I must never reveal my true identity, never.  There was a problem with that plan though, one I would not discover for many years.  You see, over time all of that hiding affected my ability to emotionally connect with my wife like we had prior to our wedding.  I became withdrawn, I focused on anything that would divert my attention from my "condition".  It is all ironic really. I did this out of a desire to preserve our marriage but that backfired and the years of hiding made me barren angry person and this is what nearly robbed me of my marriage. 

Sadly that revelation did not come for many years, not until more damage was done.  About two years into our marriage my wife became pregnant and my panic shifted into overdrive. 

I'm really enjoying reading your stories Brooke!  While we are all different people with varied backgrounds, there's so much that I find in common with your stories.  Writing is definitely therapeutic- the words have power just in helping your mind sort through the jumble that all these feelings were at the time... and in hindsight the unspoken nudges that were always there.

Looking forward to reading more!

Hugs!!

Caela

I'm so glad you're back and sharing your story. I love that we have a safe space to tell our stories and be mentored by others.

Looking forward to the next chapters.

Laura

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 20, 2024, 08:10:37 AMThe word Transgender was not a part of my vocabulary.  What was a part of my vocabulary was the word "crossdresser". 

OMG, is that what I am?  Society had taught me that crossdressers were a deviant mix of néer do wells whose mere existence would bring the collapse of polite society or at a minimum, spread Venereal Disease.  That's right, VD.  How do I know this?  Because I just got done watching "the" SEX film in Health Class. 

Come on, some of you remember this.. The school would send home permission slips, once signed they would divide the boys and the girls into different rooms and show, presumably, the same film to each gender.  Pretty much a vain attempt to stave off free love, teen pregnancy, and the spread of a disease that was the hallmark of the unwashed masses. 

I did not really realize it at the time, I guess looking back I do now.  The universe WAS nudging me toward a beautiful moment of self discovery. 

I remember those classes exactly!  Very embarrassing, I thought I should have the girl parts.  At home wearing my sister's hand-me-downs, I didn't feel like a boy.  Unquestionably her clothes were better.  Even as I grew to adulthood, I felt full masculinity evaded me.

Thanks, Brooke, for finding the strength to put all of this out there. While somewhat painful, it might be useful for you to do, but it's definitely going to benefit others who might be confused about those same feelings. As I'm sure you recall, my first thread (before the crash) was all about my fears and doubts - how I figured it was all just a "kink" or a fetish. We have so much in common.

I still struggle with this...all of this. Why?

There's some much talk in certain circles about "grooming" and "turning kids trans". The fact is that about 1 in 20 kids has some sort of feeling that they don't exactly fit neatly on the side of the gender binary to which they were assigned when they were born. There isn't a dern thing we can do to prevent that, it just is. Imagine checking in with those kids from time to time and asking them how they feel about gender, both theirs and that of those around them. Imagine allowing young people to explore their genders, to be honest with themselves. Imagine creating a framework in which people just *evolve* to be whatever their hearts and brains tell them they are. Why do people still think this is a bad thing? Really, who is it hurting?

Reading the above paragraph will surely make someone's head explode. Folks don't want to be bothered with this stuff.

If we (you and I and others) had simply been allowed to explore our feelings and modes of expression, so much suffering could have been avoided. It would not have changed who we were. It simply would have enabled us to be, without constraint.

That seems pretty reasonable to me. Go forth, Brooke, and be you. Imma try to do the same.

Thank you so much @CaelaNotKayla @LauraE @D'Amalie @Courtney G !!!

That last chapter was not easy to discuss, it took its toll so all of your encouragement really came at the right time.  Thank you again ladies! 

@Courtney G, I sometimes allow my mind to wonder what would have happen if when I essentially came out at the age of 5 my parents reacted with support versus unrestrained negativity.  My thoughts follow a familiar path where I have these beautiful visions of growing up as a young girl and developing into a woman.  Sadly, the result is always the same.  The warm, beautiful moment of affirmation morphs into a depressing crash of reality.  But the moment is great while it lasts. 

I love you all and I would be lost without you,

Brooke

Good morning ladies.  Thank you for all of your support and kindness to keep going with this blog.  Today's Chapter will explore how our culture shaped my view of trans people and ultimately led to my own internalized transphobia. 

Chapter 6

I was born in the late sixties, came of age in the late 70s and early 80s so certainly no internet.  Being Gay or Lesbian was considered a dirty secret that you must keep to yourself, especially living where I grew up.  I don't think the word "transgender" was even a thing. 

You might hear someone mention the term transvestite which when spoken immediately sounds like a pathology.  All of the popular and religious culture of the time hammered that point home as well.  I grew up in the buckle of the Bible Belt and even though my family was not very religious we were definitely imbedded with an entire community that was.  We were sort of like a Where's Waldo picture.  Anyway, there just was not available resources to learn about these types of things.  Heck, merely asking a question would quickly draw unwelcome attention. 

This situation basically ceded LGBTQ+ education to daytime TV. 

In the early days it was The Phil Donahue Show, then Riki Lake, and Springer.  Basically they all followed the same recipe.  A family would come on and one of the members would use this opportunity to reveal a closely held secret.  Sometimes it would be incestuous, or an extra marital affair.  Or it might be swingers or diapers or who knows what else. 

And sometimes the family member would reveal that they wanted to be a woman. 

In every case, the conversation would de-evolve into a violent brawl where the episode climaxed with someone being hit with a chair.  Roll the credits. 

As a young and confused person with deeply concerning thoughts regarding their gender I was horrified by what I saw.  OMG, is that my future?  Considering my own violent history it seemed so. 

I saw that people with notions like mine were at BEST treated as though we had a disease where the treatment would surely involve being institutionalized.  "See!  You tried on a bra and you caught a raging case of the Transvestite!".

At WORST folks like me were seen as deceitful, liars, criminals, perverted, and a general menace to all of society.  Cue the villagers with the torches and pitchforks.  A vision of my future frequently played out in my head:

"Hey, that's a dude wearing a skirt, get him!" 

"Officer, it's not a skirt, it's a Kilt"

"Yeah right, tell that to the Judge you Nancy"

Then on Halloween night of 1987 something truly magical and life changing occurred.  I met up with a bunch of Art and Theater friends at the local University and watched the midnight showing of the Rock Horror Picture Show. 

OMG, I was so happy!  I was watching a room packed full of people, many of whom in full Rocky Horror themed costumes, cheering on Dr. Frank N Furter as she pranced around the big screen in full makeup and lingerie. This was amazing!  No villagers with pitchforks, no bible thumpers, just happy people celebrating a great time. 

It's funny to think back, but this was my first "positive" transgender roll model.  Okay, okay.  Yes, Ms. Furter did kill Eddie with an ice axe but.. he was ill tempered AND he was riding his motorcycle in the house.  Seriously, who does that?  I think he had it comin'.

In any case, for years to come I would be front and center for subsequent Rocky Horror screenings.  Could I sing the songs and tell you the plot line?  Not really, I just sat in the audience and soaked in the notion that maybe, just maybe I was not broken or mentally ill. 

Then in 1991 Hollywood put an end to the party with the release of The Silence of the Lambs.  Overnight, the angry mobs were re-invigorated with a new villain, Buffalo Bill.  Even though Jonathan Demme has repeatedly apologized for not making it more clear that Buffalo Bill was not trans, the damage was done.  Hate crimes occurred, people were singled out.  There were probably actual villagers with actual pitchforks. 

The damage to my sense of self would also prove irreparable.  Well, maybe not irreparable but certainly an open wound for years to come.  One that would shape how I saw myself, one that would shape how I saw others like me.

Hi Brooke,

It looks like we both lived in parallel universes. There is so much in your latest chapter that I experienced as well. Especially that Rocky Horror Picture Show experience evoked some old memories. I had the soundtrack on vinyl LP and was constantly listening to it. At that time there were also a couple of gender swap movies around, like Tootsie or Switch and I always hoped something like that would happen to me.

Yes, in the early 80's the term 'transgender' was unknown to me too, although I was aware of the term 'transsexual' and knew its distinction from transvestite. Growing up in Europe might have helped a bit too as I still very vividly remember a serious discussion about being transsexual on some late night discussion format on Austrian TV. In the late 80's and early 90's there were also some pretty well done (for the time period) documentaries about transgender people on German and Swiss TV.

Yes, coming to the US in the late 90's and watching a Jerry Springer show was certainly a culture shock.

Hugs,

Heidemarie

The first time I remember hearing about a transsexual was in an issue of 'Playboy' after the movie 'For Your Eyes Only' came out. One of the 'Bond women' in the film was Caroline Cossey (aka 'Tula'), and many were shocked when news came out that she was transsexual. It was difficult to find information on her back then, but I did buy that month's 'Playboy' just to read about her. She was also in the video for 'Some Like It Hot' by The Power Station. It's possible that little piece of information rolling around in the back of my mind for decades helped me realize that I did have a choice.

Love always -- Jess

Thanks for sharing, Brooke. So much of what you wrote is relatable.

Quote from: Jessica_Rose on January 24, 2024, 11:55:44 AMThe first time I remember hearing about a transsexual was in an issue of 'Playboy' after the movie 'For Your Eyes Only' came out. One of the 'Bond women' in the film was Caroline Cossey (aka 'Tula'), and many were shocked when news came out that she was transsexual. It was difficult to find information on her back then, but I did buy that month's 'Playboy' just to read about her. She was also in the video for 'Some Like It Hot' by The Power Station. It's possible that little piece of information rolling around in the back of my mind for decades helped me realize that I did have a choice.

Love always -- Jess

I was fascinated by Tula. Of course.

Too often the portrayals of transgender individuals have trended towards the camp or the sensational.... great fodder for a puerile comedy or the worst that Geraldo Rivera could throw at it. I think it was probably "The World According to Garp" where I saw an unsensationalized transgender person on the silver screen. My life nowadays has much more in common with Roberta Muldoon than Dorothy Michaels for sure!

Hugs!!

Caela

Another movie of the 80's that had a lasting impact on me was Second Serve with Vanessa Redgrave portraying Renee Richards.

Hugs,

Heidemarie

Oh wow, @Jessica_Rose @Courtney G @CaelaNotKayla @Iztaccihuatl you all are bringing up movies that I have not thought of for many years!  A lot to add to my streaming list! 

Chapter 7

It's funny how the mind works, or doesn't..  Here I was, having gone through childhood with feminine leanings where I even vocalized I wanted to be like the girls.  Then as I aged my activities were always more on the female side.  The friends I made were almost always girls, I avoided any form of male roughness. In the years that followed I explored dressing, I was fascinated when the Avon Lady visited.  When I saw clothing at the mall I was drawn to it not from arousal but from a desire to feel feminine.  I like things that were pretty, I wanted to be pretty.

I felt left out because I could not express myself the same as the girls did. 

Every one of these feelings were such powerful markers, you'd have to be the village idiot to not recognize them.  Hello village, I'd like to introduce myself, I am your new Idiot. 

The thing is I have to give myself a bit of a pass on this one.  I now know my lack of self awareness, or perhaps better phrased, lack of self acceptance was heavily shaped by my compartmentalization.  And that compartmentalization was heavily shaped by society's overt transphobia.  This in turn caused me to internalize the transphobia and fear what I may be. 

Essentially, I witnessed enough examples where a trans people were cast in a bad light I started to believe it.  This then kicked the denial and compartmentalization into overdrive where I could never allow myself to think I was trans.  There's no way I am one of those people. 

It so stupid and I feel so silly.  But remember, I was trying to sort out all of these feelings alone.  They started as a child and only grew stronger as I aged.  Unfortunately, my skills at denial increased as well. 

All of this eventually reached critical mass and created this gigantic pink explosion where everyone around was covered in shards of pastel satin and chunks of a rainbow. 

If I learned one thing to pass on to those wrestling with these thoughts is please do not do what I did.  Do not fear your feelings, do not have guilt over your feelings.  Explore them, dip your toes in the water.  You are who you are, period.  And if you are trans then you can make some decisions.  Remember, being trans is not a choice but choosing what to do with it is.

But sadly I would not learn these lessons myself for many years. 

In the mid nineties the cosmos lobbed a HUGE opportunity for self discovery at me but I never recognized it.  My wife had recently announced that she was pregnant with our first (and only) child.  Hearing the news I went into the usual panic of a new parent but as time went on I began to think about my female feelings and how that was going to work. 

While these thoughts created more panic I felt some solace in the fact that there had never been a female in my bloodline born in the US so we were certainly going to have a boy.  I never questioned why that gave me solace but it did. Maybe at the time I felt I could hide more effectively from a son versus a daughter, maybe?  The universe must have heard my thoughts because a few months later they said, "hold my beer" and we found out we were having a daughter. 

Then it hit me and hit me hard.  I was going to have a daughter, I was going to watch her grow up and experience all of the life moments that I wished I had.  She was going to live a life without hesitation as a female.  I did not resent my child, instead I just felt worse about myself. 

As it turns out, this was my first attack of Gender Dysphoria.  I had no awareness of the term Gender Dysphoria but that is exactly what this was.  Up until that moment I generally felt envious, maybe slightly depressed but this made me feel awful.  With no support structure I was ill equipped on how to process these feelings.   

There's no way I am one of those people.

Yep - that's what I told myself all the time too.

And: Thank God that I am not trans because I'd be an ugly woman and at 6'6" I would never find any clothes that fit.

I guess I used that for over 15 years to suppress my female identity whenever it tried to peek through.

Aren't we a funny group of folks?

Hugs,

Heidemarie

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 24, 2024, 09:40:27 AMGood morning ladies.  Thank you for all of your support and kindness to keep going with this blog.  Today's Chapter will explore how our culture shaped my view of trans people and ultimately led to my own internalized transphobia. 

Chapter 6

I was born in the late sixties, came of age in the late 70s and early 80s so certainly no internet.  Being Gay or Lesbian was considered a dirty secret that you must keep to yourself, especially living where I grew up.  I don't think the word "transgender" was even a thing.

Me.

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 24, 2024, 09:40:27 AMYou might hear someone mention the term transvestite which when spoken immediately sounds like a pathology.  All of the popular and religious culture of the time hammered that point home as well.  I grew up in the buckle of the Bible Belt and even though my family was not very religious we were definitely imbedded with an entire community that was.  We were sort of like a Where's Waldo picture.  Anyway, there just was not available resources to learn about these types of things.  Heck, merely asking a question would quickly draw unwelcome attention. 

Also me.

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 24, 2024, 09:40:27 AMThis situation basically ceded LGBTQ+ education to daytime TV. 

In the early days it was The Phil Donahue Show, then Riki Lake, and Springer.  Basically they all followed the same recipe.  A family would come on and one of the members would use this opportunity to reveal a closely held secret.  Sometimes it would be incestuous, or an extra marital affair.  Or it might be swingers or diapers or who knows what else. 

And sometimes the family member would reveal that they wanted to be a woman. 

In every case, the conversation would de-evolve into a violent brawl where the episode climaxed with someone being hit with a chair.  Roll the credits. 

As a young and confused person with deeply concerning thoughts regarding their gender I was horrified by what I saw.  OMG, is that my future?  Considering my own violent history it seemed so. 

I saw that people with notions like mine were at BEST treated as though we had a disease where the treatment would surely involve being institutionalized.  "See!  You tried on a bra and you caught a raging case of the Transvestite!".

Again me too!

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 24, 2024, 09:40:27 AMAt WORST folks like me were seen as deceitful, liars, criminals, perverted, and a general menace to all of society.  Cue the villagers with the torches and pitchforks.  A vision of my future frequently played out in my head:

"Hey, that's a dude wearing a skirt, get him!" 

Still a reality today!

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 24, 2024, 09:40:27 AM"Officer, it's not a skirt, it's a Kilt"

"Yeah right, tell that to the Judge you Nancy" [/i]

Then on Halloween night of 1987 something truly magical and life changing occurred.  I met up with a bunch of Art and Theater friends at the local University and watched the midnight showing of the Rock Horror Picture Show. 

OMG, I was so happy!  I was watching a room packed full of people, many of whom in full Rocky Horror themed costumes, cheering on Dr. Frank N Furter as she pranced around the big screen in full makeup and lingerie. This was amazing!  No villagers with pitchforks, no bible thumpers, just happy people celebrating a great time. 

How did you know!  You described me!

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 24, 2024, 09:40:27 AMIt's funny to think back, but this was my first "positive" transgender roll model.  Okay, okay.  Yes, Ms. Furter did kill Eddie with an ice axe but.. he was ill tempered AND he was riding his motorcycle in the house.  Seriously, who does that?  I think he had it comin'.

In any case, for years to come I would be front and center for subsequent Rocky Horror screenings.  Could I sing the songs and tell you the plot line?  Not really, I just sat in the audience and soaked in the notion that maybe, just maybe I was not broken or mentally ill. 

Then in 1991 Hollywood put an end to the party with the release of The Silence of the Lambs.  Overnight, the angry mobs were re-invigorated with a new villain, Buffalo Bill.  Even though Jonathan Demme has repeatedly apologized for not making it more clear that Buffalo Bill was not trans, the damage was done.  Hate crimes occurred, people were singled out.  There were probably actual villagers with actual pitchforks. 

The damage to my sense of self would also prove irreparable.  Well, maybe not irreparable but certainly an open wound for years to come.  One that would shape how I saw myself, one that would shape how I saw others like me.

[/quote]

I curtsy to you, while your eloquence sears my eyes.

Humbly, I offer an agregate.  Striking my soul with a simple journal entry, your recall portrays, yes stabs us, with cultural criticisms of this audience's personal realities.  Words highlight ignorance, intolerance and intransigence of our culture at best.  At worst, the words deepen angst, anger and anxiety. 

Reading this triggers my depression.  Its dragging me down.  I ache within, such an attack as I've not felt in three years.  Tears aren't meant to short my keyboard, are they?  I ask, is my journey or ours collectivelly for naught?  I'm defenseless against the onslaught.  It must be so with many of our sisters, though with lifetimes habit, we'll not tell anyone.  It's not shiny.  No.  Not Shiny at all, Captain.

Part II an hour passed -- I sat up, rose to my feet and stumbled away for a few minutes.  Brewed a coffee, gazing out upon the dreary winter landscapa a bit of a while.  Popped a modern chemical (prescribed for such events.)

Coming back to this, I reread the post.  I see where you are light hearted and merely reliving the past.  It helped me climb out of that morass of could've, would've and should've I tripped into.  Thanks for the memories.  I wish I may, I wish I might, accept the realities of my plight.

Quote from: D'Amalie on January 26, 2024, 09:44:46 AMI curtsy to you, while your eloquence sears my eyes.

Humbly, I offer an agregate.  Striking my soul with a simple journal entry, your recall portrays, yes stabs us, with cultural criticisms of this audience's personal realities.  Words highlight ignorance, intolerance and intransigence of our culture at best.  At worst, the words deepen angst, anger and anxiety. 

Reading this triggers my depression.  Its dragging me down.  I ache within, such an attack as I've not felt in three years.  Tears aren't meant to short my keyboard, are they?  I ask, is my journey or ours collectivelly for naught?  I'm defenseless against the onslaught.  It must be so with many of our sisters, though with lifetimes habit, we'll not tell anyone.  It's not shiny.  No.  Not Shiny at all, Captain.

Part II an hour passed -- I sat up, rose to my feet and stumbled away for a few minutes.  Brewed a coffee, gazing out upon the dreary winter landscapa a bit of a while.  Popped a modern chemical (prescribed for such events.)

Coming back to this, I reread the post.  I see where you are light hearted and merely reliving the past.  It helped me climb out of that morass of could've, would've and should've I tripped into.  Thanks for the memories.  I wish I may, I wish I might, accept the realities of my plight.

Dear @D'Amalie

Thank you so much for your comments, I fear many of us have walked these thorny trails.  I went way too long without an outlet to discuss these challenges, keeping all of this angst inside has been toxic.  Finding a therapist has helped purge these ghosts and move on except, I am just not that good at talking about my life in person.  Sure, she gives me the opportunity, I mean that is what I pay her for. 

But alas I seem to always freeze up..  "you have 53 minutes to talk about your life, GO..."  Camera zooms in on Brooke staring at her shoes.. Then all that comes out is me complaining about the weather and perhaps if I am on point, a "drive by" discussion my latest GD episode.  But usually all that comes out is pointless babble akin to chatting the relative merits of whole milk to 2%. 

This is where the blog has be a God-send.  I can work through  AND purge this darkness, find humor, and most importantly find fellowship with my sisters and maybe pass on a nugget or two that will help someone. 

Later this morning I will be adding my next chapter, I promise it is getting to the point in my journey where confusion and fear are becoming replaced with joy and self acceptance.  I just needed to go through and get past my rocky beginnings. 

Offering warm loving hugs,

Brooke

Good morning ladies!  Please let me apologize upfront for the Great Wall of Text on this chapter.  But, several deeply meaningful events came pretty close to each other during my journey and I wanted to capture them all.  If you have read any of my previous entries I think you will agree it was my turn for some wins. 

Chapter 8

Many years have now passed since the birth of my daughter and much of the initial fear and anxiety had melted away into the daily events of homework, soccer, and holidays.  My thick walls of compartmentalization were solid.  Yeah, most of your are jumping up and down yelling "Denial" right now which is correct but keep that to yourself. 

Anyway. 

As I mentioned in previous posts, I strictly limited my feminine expression to women's undergarments. Specifically panties. I was (and still are) adamant about using the term panty over underwear at it is way more feminine to me.  Being this was my only female outlet I allowed myself, I needed it to be as feminine as possible.  You know, squeeze every drop of pink goodness from this forbidden fruit. 

So little by little I began to accumulate a collection of panties.  I don't exactly recall how my "hobby" came to light but my wife did eventually become aware.  It must not have been a thing though as we just went on with our days.  In time she even participated by purchasing panties for me.  I even recall several shopping trips where she would see something that she knew I would like and she would add it to her purchases.

eBay was also a game changer.  The magic of the internet allowed me an anxiety free shopping experience where I could browse the selections and make purchases without feeling compelled to fabricate some ridiculous cover story.  Honestly, the whole process of finding a style that I liked, choosing the right size and color, and checking out was very affirming and an effective antidote to the waves of GD.  Retail therapy right?  Ladies, you all know it works!

And because GD had become a frequent co-pilot I did a lot of retail therapy.  A lot. Hey, it was way cheaper than a therapist at 100 dollars an hour! 

In a short span of a few years my panty collection had grown to epic proportions.  Looking back and laughing, I would say a therapist might suggest an intervention.  Whatever, if not this then what?  We all know GD demands action. 

It was about this time that a conversation occurred with my wife.  I saw it coming and I dreaded the potential outcome.  We were enjoying some pillow talk one evening and she stated that she could certainly understand my desire to wear something silky, who wouldn't she added. 

Uh oh, here it comes I thought...

She then wanted to know if I liked panties because they were silky and felt nice or if I liked them because they were pretty. 

Bam.  Deer meet headlights.  Time froze as did that trickle of moisture forming on my brow.  What do I say?  Do I hazard the truth?  Oh god.  Think dang it, think! 

With a very dry mouth I coughed out the response that maybe a little of both?  Mostly silky for sure, but colors and decoration made them kind of exciting.  Maybe?  I looked away expecting the whoosh and thud of the guillotine. 

To my elation, there was no whoosh.  There was no thud.  Instead she cheerfully giggled and exclaimed "you're a crossdresser!"  I stammered an unintelligible response, not really sure if what came out of my mouth even remotely resembled words.  I think muscle memory eventual took up the slack for my stunned silence and I explained that my interest was limited to just panties.  This seemed to satisfy her curiosity and she moved on. 

That was it?!?

Maybe, just maybe, the vision of my future crafted by fear and guilt was all just a farce.  Scare tactics by my over active amygdala.  That said, she did bring up some points that landed with a thud.  She did use the word "crossdresser" and she did bring up the pretty versus silky question.  While I was not in the headspace to address the crossdresser comment to myself I did spend a lot of time thinking about the desire to seek out items that were pretty. 

Perhaps this was me taking baby steps toward a greater level of self discovery.  In any case, I acknowledged to myself that I DID want my choices to be pretty and this desire especially applied to color.  You see, male underwear comes in colors but those colors were always dark or muted.  However, panties came in pretty pastels, something you would never see the Marlboro man wearing.  Once this connection was made my mind was set.  It is funny, you could present me with a pair of black satin panties absolutely dripping with lace and I would recoil!  Those are too masculine, take them away!  Silly right?  GD poisons the brain in some weird ways. 

A few months after this conversation an event occurred that would forever change my family.  It was the summer before my daughter's Junior year in high school and she had an announcement, she came out as a lesbian. 

As a parent you notice things which I did.  I would sort of catalog them away to see what happens.  I knew when or if the time came that I would be supportive.  Very supportive.  In my mind I knew exactly how I would want the response to be if I came out.  I made darn sure to express my support in the best way possible. 

It all went down like this. 

With teary eyes, "Mom...Dad... I have to tell you something.  I'm gay". 

Us, "Babe, your mom and I love you so much and all we want is for you to be happy, where are we going for dinner." 

She smiled through her tears, we all embraced and went for pizza.  That was it. But not really. 

Shortly after "the" conversation my wife and talked, we knew we needed to make a move.  You see, at the time we were still living in the midwest.  A part of the country where our daughter would never live her best life.  My wife and I knew we needed to move and move fast.  The next day at work I located an open management position in Seattle, I called my wife up and without hesitation she said do it. 

It wasn't easy, moving never is.  But this one had purpose. We put our home on the market, broke the news to our families and I started the exhausting process of boxing up all those panties.  Really, that was a thing.  Don't judge.. 

By December of that year we had arrived in the PNW and were getting settled.  The cultural change was amazing!  We went from a town where everyone scrutinized everything and everyone to a city where "you do you" is the mantra.  I think the best (and kindest) way for me to put this is, in the Midwest they place a high value on conformity while on the West Coast, we place a high value on individuality. 

June rolled around and gave me the most emotional moment since witnessing the birth of our daughter.  As a family, we attended PRIDE in Seattle.  Seeing the tears in my daughter'e eyes as she looked around at the hundreds of thousands of people jammed in downtown Seattle, all celebrating her right to be her.  I cry as I type this.  Witnessing her find herself and find her home is the most special gift a parent could ever hope for. 

As the day aged I made some discoveries for myself too.  There were a lot of trans folk out and about.  All being accepted, all feeling love, and all expressing themselves without hesitation. 

While this experience did not erase the years of transphobic conditioning it did start to chip away at it.  About two weeks later a bright light broke through the cracks in my closet door and I ordered my first bra. 

Chapter 9

The purchase of my first bra was without question, the initial crack in shattering my carefully crafted mental walls.  To borrow a movie line one would say, "that escalated quickly".  It's true though, history has yet to witness a dam fail softly.

I was now in the headspace where I was no longer afraid of a label.  I mean, I suppose I finally overwhelmed my denial with facts. 

"Hey skillet head, you know how you have wrestled with this gender thing for like 45 years?  That's because it's a thing".  "You should probably accept it and learn about how to handle it".  Solid advice from myself to myself. I'm sure I had been lobbing those words at the person in the mirror for years and now I was able to actually hear them.  Up until that point I am sure I was just lip reading and I'm sure I thought the words were "buy another pair of khaki trousers, they're snazzy".

So off to the internet I went in search of knowledge.  No preconceived notions of where I wanted to search to lead me, just see where the facts go.  Without fear of labels I looked everywhere.  Am I a crossdresser, am I actually gay, am I transgender?  And just what is the difference between a crossdresser and one that is transgender? 

Again, I was now ready for an actual accounting of my feelings without mental boxes or guardrails.  Just peel back the breading and see if we're having chicken or fish.

Of course any safari into the internet will involve some rabbit holes.  My searches initially took me to several different forums which we all know can be a mixed bag.  Eventually I stepped away from the forums for a more medical description and analysis.  This is where I finally found my truth or maybe I should say "finally accepted my truth".  Yeah, the term "accepted" probably has 50% more truth than "found". 

Anyway. 

As I read the clinical descriptions of a crossdresser and the clinical descriptions of transgender my situation became incredibly clear.  When I read the DSM-5's metrics for diagnosing Gender Dysphoria I was floored.  According to the manual, one must experience at least two of the 6 symptoms for greater than 6 months. 

Ha!  That's funny!  I could hear my Ego pushing my ID and Superego aside yelling "hold my beer!  You've experienced all 6 of these for 40 plus years!" 

Also, and most importantly...  I learned that being transgender is NOT a pathology, the emotional distress of GD is.  There it was, right there in black and white.  From the Mayo Clinic no less, I am not broken. 

I slept so well that night.  Free of guilt, free of shame.  For the first time in my life I knew who I was.  The label did not scare me nor did it even remotely compel me to repair my broken walls of denial. 

The next morning I took my shiny new epiphany shopping and we ordered some silicone breast forms.  About a week later they had arrived.  For the first time in my life I saw my body as nature had intended, the emotional release was intense. 

Ladies, I sat on my bed and wept.  For the first time in my life I was at peace. 

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 28, 2024, 08:15:45 AMAm I a crossdresser, am I actually gay, am I transgender?  And just what is the difference between a crossdresser and one that is transgender? 

I can't answer the first compound question, but the answer to the second question is 'usually about two years'.

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 28, 2024, 08:15:45 AMThe next morning I took my shiny new epiphany shopping and we ordered some silicone breast forms.  About a week later they had arrived.  For the first time in my life I saw my body as nature had intended, the emotional release was intense. 

Ladies, I sat on my bed and wept.  For the first time in my life I was at peace. 

Once you understand the source of decades of pain, the emotional release can be intense. When the weight of all those years of questions and denials suddenly lifts, it's like your soul sees light after decades of darkness.

Love always -- Jessica Rose

Quote from: Jessica_Rose on January 28, 2024, 09:38:39 AMI can't answer the first compound question, but the answer to the second question is 'usually about two years'.

Hi Jessica!  I so love this answer! 


Hugs,

Brooke

Transgender is a big umbrella term.  Cross dressers are transgender, but so are transsexuals, which are what most people tend to think of as transgender. 

Quote from: REM.1126 on January 28, 2024, 11:40:29 PMTransgender is a big umbrella term.  Cross dressers are transgender, but so are transsexuals, which are what most people tend to think of as transgender. 

Hi Rachel,

I think my desire during that period of self acceptance was to find nice, neat little boxes in which to categorize my feelings.  I did not care what the label was, nor did I assign value to one over the other.  That lack of value remains to this day.  Early childhood conditioning by less than honorable sources had planted plenty of misinformation in my psyche which I was committed to expelling. 

All of the research I did during those months and years of self discovery pointed toward "activity" versus "identity" as the demarcation between crossdressing and one that identifies as trans.  A common phrase I read was that one who engages in crossdressing does not experience an incongruity with the gender they are assigned at birth.  Further, most clinical descriptions I read stated a crossdresser does not experience gender dysphoria when they are unable to present in a manner consistent with their preference. 

For me, that hit the nail right on the head.  My identity is binary female, I have significant feelings of incongruity between my sense of self what lies betwixt my legs.

Now that I have more experience and education on the subject I do see that the lines are very blurry.  Sure scholars have placed "activity" and "identity" on opposite ends of the gender expression continuum but in reality, we know there is significant overlap.  This is exactly why I love Jessica's response so much!

In practice, I do not consider presenting as my gender identity as crossdressing, it's just dressing.  However, when I have to present as a man I do consider that crossdressing as that presentation is inconsistent .   

As for the term transexual.  All of my readings agree that this is an older term that originated in the medical and psychological communities that has been rejected by the transgender community due to a negative connotation. GLAAD has be a reliable source for me in navigating this minefield, I find their discussions on terms to be progressive and affirming. 

https://glaad.org/reference/trans-terms/?response_type=embed&gad_source=1&gclid=EAIaIQobChMIqP6R49uChAMVxdDCBB2n9APkEAAYBCAAEgL8gvD_BwE

Warmly,

Brooke

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 29, 2024, 07:54:52 AMIn practice, I do not consider presenting as my gender identity as crossdressing, it's just dressing. 

I love this!  Like I keep saying when ever I think others may care, I dress according to my reality.  It really doesn't matter to anyone but me, or shouldn't.

Quote from: D'Amalie on January 29, 2024, 11:10:28 AMI love this!  Like I keep saying when ever I think others may care, I dress according to my reality.  It really doesn't matter to anyone but me, or shouldn't.

Amen Sister! 

Transsexual may have lost favor, but it is useful as a term because it describes something specific in contrast "transgender" which basically means gender norms don't fit me without saying how or why.

Quote from: REM.1126 on January 29, 2024, 10:28:07 PMTranssexual may have lost favor, but it is useful as a term because it describes something specific in contrast "transgender" which basically means gender norms don't fit me without saying how or why.

Agreed!  Transgender to me is a stereotypical classification of gender.  I'm just more female than male.  Pretty Zen really.  Its only more likely that I'm here now, since what my eye sees only what is already past.

Gulp..  changed my avatar to me.  Yes, slightly enhanced but mostly me.  I did this for a while this morning but I chickened out (no disrespect intended to any of our poultry members).  Anyway..  here I am. 


Hugs,

Brooke

Quote from: Brooke Renee on January 30, 2024, 05:36:21 PMGulp..  changed my avatar to me.  Yes, slightly enhanced but mostly me.  I did this for a while this morning but I chickened out (no disrespect intended to any of our poultry members).  Anyway..  here I am. 


Hugs,

Brooke

Isn't that the same face we've been seeing?

Quote from: REM.1126 on January 30, 2024, 10:20:45 PMIsn't that the same face we've been seeing?

Good Morning  @REM.1126 ,

It is.  I took a break from Susan's for a while, had to work out some thoughts and feelings.  When I came back I was not in the headspace to put my image up.  I guess I lost my nerve, I don't know, emotions are complicated.  Fear does some weird stuff to a person.  I played with the image to make myself feel more comfortable being seen but not recognizable.  All just a game to alleviate my anxiety. 

So yes, in essence the same picture but with some edits.  And for whatever reason, the same level of anxiety posting it as I had the first time. It's all a head game that I struggle with Rachel, sometimes I win, most times not.  I'm hoping this blog helps me to talk through and take out the mental garbage so that posting a silly picture is not such a big deal. 

Warmly,

Brooke

My avatar is a filter of me.  I do that because I don't want someone or some software to recognize the person in the closet and make it public.  I don't want my closeted self to be outted by my negligence.  FaceApp is one point of vulnerability.  My VPN is another.  And, then there are the descriptions of my life that, when taken as a whole, might out me.  But, that would require a lot of work, or an AI.

Quote from: REM.1126 on January 31, 2024, 05:56:38 PMMy avatar is a filter of me.  I do that because I don't want someone or some software to recognize the person in the closet and make it public.  I don't want my closeted self to be outted by my negligence.  FaceApp is one point of vulnerability.  My VPN is another.  And, then there are the descriptions of my life that, when taken as a whole, might out me.  But, that would require a lot of work, or an AI.

Concurr with all you said.  I'm not really closeted, but its no ones business but my own and those few that know and care.  I'm too paranoid to trust the majority of the world I live in.  I suppose someone could put 3 and 3 together and come up with the right answer.  But they'd have to be a better detective than I.

Reminding me of the "pervert" blackmailing scam my wife got yesterday.  Very poor attempt at a shot in the dark at ransomware.  Luckily we are savvy to this IT nonsense, and really wouldn't be damaged by anything they can find.  Descriptions of my life are dificult to cull and compile, could be done.  Yet we aren't too worried, but strange things happen.

I wonder what facial recognition software would do with my face?  It's me all right.  But I wonder what a web presence I have in that regard?

Chapter 10. 

When you push a boulder over the mountainside it is going to increase in speed.  I suppose I was the boulder and my recent epiphany was the push.  For me this pertained to some changes in presentation but mostly in how I saw myself and what I was now willing to accept about myself. 

I think some folks refer to what I went through as "my egg cracking".  Kind of a charming analogy. 

Anyway, all of those years of denial and compartmentalization had narrowed my field of view so much that I could only see a small facet of my true identity.  Honestly, for many years that was all I was capable of handling.  Anything else was just took much to take in.  However, over a very short amount of time those blinders came off and I could see everything, I was no longer viewing the Grand Canyon through a paper towel tube. 

Again, the egg cracking analogy is cute but I referred to this as when I came out to myself. 

Suddenly I was allowing myself to notice and experience all manner of things.  For instance, prior to all this I would have never given much thought pronouns.  Now I would hear every one of them spoken.  I now began looking at hair options and what make-up could do for me, and clothing too.  Everything. 

Allowing myself to experience these things also amplified the episodes of Gender Dysphoria and the desire to find the elusive Gender Euphoria.  I guess once you get a taste of feeling your true self you want that flavor all the time.  To find answers and peace I read everything about the trans experience and how to cope with GD.  Pretty much everything I read stated the same thing. 

The only true treatment for GD is to try and live your gender identity to the greatest extend possible.

I think this is where CIS people might get the wrong impressions of trans folk.  They just see a trans person presenting as their identity and they tend to think the trans experience mostly revolves around clothing or makeup.  For me this could not be further from the truth.  My identity is binary female regardless if I am wearing a potato sack or a prom dress.  Clothing, makeup, shoes.. those are all just artifacts of the female experience, their existence is very important in alleviating my Gender Dysphoria but they do not determine my identity.

It is also kind of circular too.  Perfecting my presentation (as much as I could) did allow me the most wonderful moments where I would look in the mirror and see the person that I actually am.  I call these my "there she is" moments.  These are so affirming and so powerful.  They smash through the worst of the GD, clear the fog, and bring immediate peace.  Ha!  So maybe it is all about the presentation!  Seriously though, the river of identity flows from the inside-out with the occasional eddy of outside-in. 

It was these types of mental gymnastics that compelled me to seek some form of therapy.  I would have never considered this before but now was different and I needed some professional input.  And oh my goodness what a journey finding a decent therapist is!  Just getting an appointment is a challenge but you will also quickly learn that not all therapists are created equal. 

My first therapist was amazing but as it turned out, she was not in my network. My second was in my networked but she was absolutely clueless to the trans experience even though she claimed she was well versed.  She once suggested that I try presenting as a woman one day a week at work to see how it went.  If it didn't feel right I could just go back.  What?  Yeah, I did not schedule a follow-up session. 

Eventually I found the therapist I have now and I am very happy.  None of them really tell you how to feel, they just facilitate self discovery for you to figure that out on your own.  That said, some are clearly better than others.  My suggestion is to treat a new therapist like a new Netflix series.  You know, give it three episodes to see if you like it and then decide what to do. 

Finally, it was during this period of self discovery that I made an appointment with a Doctor that specializes in the transgender care.  I was so nervous going to that first appointment, fortunately for me my Doctor is also a transgender woman so she kind of knows the ropes.  We talked about all manner of things, she asked her questions, I gave my answers and in the end I left after a hug with my first round of HRT meds. 

Chapter 11

So this is the HRT chapter, there's a lot of emotions and changes to discuss and I've been trying to think of how to word it all and not just be explosion of random thoughts.  Maybe dividing it all up into medical, emotional, and physical categories.  Sure, let's give that a try. 

As I mentioned in my previous chapter I am lucky to have a transgender woman as my transgender doctor, that sure makes conversations easier.  In my little brain, trying to explain this to someone who only on occasion deals with these issues seems awkward.  Even more so if that Doctor is male (eek).  But that is just me and I would guess that there are many affirming caregivers (of all genders) that are excellent at addressing our unique situation. 

Anyway, my appointment started with the usual physical exam followed by a discussion of medical history.  She was very thorough and took her time to fully asses my health.  After the physical she began asking me a comprehensive list of questions regarding my gender identity, my history of having feelings of incongruity.  Her questions closely mirrored the DSM-5 definitions of Gender Dysphoria. 

Once she was satisfied that enough evidence existed she shifted the conversation to the transgender experience, support groups, etc.  She wanted to know about my family situation, friend groups, my work environment.  In short, she needed to know I was safe, she needed me to understand my options. The conversation eventually shifted to HRT and how it can help alleviate the darkness of Gender Dysphoria.  She also discussed the risks and the pace of physical changes.  She made it very clear that most physical changes are slow and she identified those that are reversible and those that are not. 

In the end we decided that I would start on a low(ish) dose of Spiro (50mg) and a low dose of Estradiol (2mg).  Being she functions on the Informed Consent model I was not require to get a letter from a therapist.  And as an added bonus, her office also dispenses some medications, HRT being one of them.  It could not have been easier for me, I was truly blessed in finding my Doctor, she is amazing.  So after about an hour and half of chatting I left with my meds in hand. 

You will never forget when you take that first dose.  For me, my entire life and angst regarding my gender identity was flashing before my eyes.  I was about to take a huge step in acknowledging myself, my identity, and my right to do something about it.  Up until this point, it was all just mental anguish but now I was going to do something to brighten the darkness.  So yes, I sat in my car staring at the pills in my hand, heart racing and tears flowing.  Following her directions to the letter, I swallowed the Spiro and placed the Estradiol under my tongue to dissolve slowly. I savored this dose of Estradiol like it was the rarest confection made.  I smiled, I cried, it was a way more intense moment than I had thought it was going to be. 

In the days and weeks that followed the HRT began to work its magic on my emotional stability.  Just taking the meds is incredibly affirming, the act's effect on my state of mind was (and still is) incredible.  I mean, I am doing something affirming not just dreaming of doing something affirming.  Actions speak loudly and my emotions were listening. 

In the weeks that followed my hormonal chemistry began to shift and more positive results began to make themselves known.  I began to feel even more at peace.  I was less reactive, less angry.  I had less anxiety and in general, my moods were brighter.  My family noticed my changes and were relieved that the angry person that I had become was now replaced by a way more communicative and loving person.  The HRT did offer some positive impacts on the episodes of Gender Dysphoria.  I cannot say of these impacts were medical or physiological but either way, I felt better so I guess the mechanism doesn't really matter. 

The first physical changes were breast tenderness and OMG is that a thing!  Prepare yourself, this can be painful, especially of you errantly brush up against something.  Wow.  This was also nerve wracking for me because I am not in a situation where I will be transitioning publicly.  My imagination compelled me to think that tenderness indicated growth so I became rather nervous that I was going to wake up with some double Ds.  That of course didn't happen at all but fear did cause me to lessen my dosages on a few occasions. 

They say the other changes are finer body hair (eventually experienced), changes in body odor (yes), redistribution of fat such as hips (not yet!), slowing of male pattern baldness (maybe), and softening of skin and smaller pores (definitely!). 

Now that I have been on HRT for over 3 years I can say that I have achieved some breast growth on my low doses.  My growth is not much more than what I would call MSMBs (moderately sized man boobs) but I know what they are from and they make me very happy.  If you are on a full transition dosage the physical changes will likely be greater but they may not occur any faster.  Of course a lot this depend on the age you begin HRT and your own personal body chemistry.  Like everyone on this site says, "your milage may vary". 

With the HRT hurdle out of the way my next challenge was hair which would present its own series of comedic moments, episodes of anxiety, and eventually exquisite moments of gender euphoria. 

Quote from: D'Amalie on January 30, 2024, 04:04:36 PMAgreed!  Transgender to me is a stereotypical classification of gender.  I'm just more female than male.  Pretty Zen really.  Its only more likely that I'm here now, since what my eye sees only what is already past.

So often in the past I'd identify as male, interact with someone, and then have them gender me as female.  Most often in telephone conversations, but also in person as well!

Good Morning all, I hope you had a great week.  I've been mulling over this next chapter trying to figure out how to put some complex emotions into words.  Hopefully this will be somewhat coherent but I apologize in advance if turns into just an explosion of thoughts. 

Chapter 12

Since starting this blog I have been able to see so many of the little arrows life has tossed my way pointing towards self discovery and eventually acceptance.  It all happens kind of slow and sadly, none of those arrows were giant flashing billboards screaming "you are transgender, you now need to do the following things to be happy immediately!" 

Probably if I did see such a billboard next to my road of life I would have seen it as too extreme for me and I would think the message was clearly meant for someone else.  In any case, the little markers or arrows or breadcrumbs were way more nuanced but make no mistake they were there.

Looking back, my first such markers were mirrors and photographs.  Throughout my life I have avoided photographs, same with mirrors.  For many years I did not put together why, I just avoided them.  As a child when I would see a photograph of myself it would make me upset.  I didn't understand why at the time, it just did.  As I aged mirrors did the same thing.  It wouldn't be crippling mind you, just a little zing of angst each morning when I would be getting ready for the day. 

As I got older what I now know as gender dysphoria began to grow and become a familiar feeling.  However, even though these feelings of unease were growing I still had not added everything up as to why.  Truthfully, I had the answers, they were all right in front of me they were just occluded by denial.

Simple two plus two right?  You desire to feminine, you eschew mirrors and photos because they remind you that  you were born in the wrong body.  Period, end of discussion, answer found.  Yeah... so fear, denial, compartmentalization never allowed me to arrive at that answer. 

My two plus two never equaled four, it equaled tennis racket or box turtle or some other unrelated and ridiculous sum.  Fortunately reality did break through my willful ignorance and I was able to accept the why. 

This grand epiphany did not occur until later in life.  Sadly, not until the poisoning of testosterone had done its damage on my hairline.  To make matters worse, the timing of this self discovery was oddly enough the same time as when my gender dysphoria gained some solid traction.  Yes, I am sure these events are related.  I see that now, so let's keep moving please. 

Anyway.  As trans women we are faced with many a hurdle, hair is often a big one.  They say some medications will help such as Finasteride, or topicals such as Rogain.  None of those moved the needle for me.  Then there's implants which are very expensive and may not be permanent. 

What I needed was a quick fix, at a reasonable price to at least have a glimpse of my true identity. That pretty much left me with two options.  Remount my mirror lower on the wall so I only see myself from the neck down or buy a wig.  While I did give the mirror option some solid consideration I did eventually decide that was just silly. 

So off to the wilds of the internet I went in search of self esteem and maybe a touch of glamour. 

Talk about being blinded with options!  OMG, where to begin?  I browsed what seemed like a zillion styles and colors, I looked at the full spectrum of price points.  The more I looked the deeper the rabbit hole went. 

Eventually I backed away from the online retailers and sought refuge in trans specific guides that did provide some solid direction if one was seeking a natural look (read passing).  Notions like "age appropriate", "similar color to your existing hair", etc.  This all seemed like some pretty airtight advice so back to the retailers I went. 

Back and forth I went, more knowledge - more browsing- rinse and repeat.  I would add a wig to my cart, then chicken out and remove it.  Finally I decided I needed to make a move. So I made my purchase, I did it!  The wig (on the model) looked amazing.  It checked every box.  It was age appropriate, it color matched my eyebrows, the wig was feminine and sophisticated.  I was going to look amazing! 

Bring on the mirrors and photographs I will no longer fear thee!

About a week later the wig had arrived and I opened the box in rapt enthusiasm.

I did look nice in box, it was pretty and appeared to be the exact item I had seen online.  But somehow that all got lost in three feet between the box and my head.  My moment of greatness crashed and burned, perched atop my melon I (at best) looked like Olympia Dukakis.  No disrespect to Ms. Dukakis but this was not the direction I was going for.  I was crestfallen, now what?  Put Olympia back in the box and head back to the internet.

The answer was always there, I just was not brave enough to act on it.  I needed to seek out a trans friendly hair replacement salon and go (in-person) and have a proper fitting and styling session.  This I would mean I will be outing myself for the first time but it is the only way I am going to find the right look.  To my delight such a salon exists in Seattle and after about a week of anxiety I had built up the courage to make an appointment. 

When the day arrived I was buzzing with nervous anticipation.  So many emotions, so much to take in.  But by this time the GD had become untenable, the darkness demanded action.  My resolve would not waver. 

As it turned out I had booked a private session with a verified angel.  She was absolutely amazing, she put me at ease, she was warm and welcoming, and she had a lot of experience with helping members of the trans community.  We chatted about styles, what might look good, what might not.  It was such an affirming experience.  Then we began trying styles and colors, her focus was just have fun and we would eventually find my look. 

About three or four wigs in it happened.  OMG, I saw myself for the first time.  I knew it, she knew it.  There were smiles and tears.  Just for kicks we tried on a few more but the choice was made.  About 45 minuets of chatting and hugs later I left the salon with a clear vision of my identity.  Arriving at home it was time for the true test, would it look as good after the endorphins of the moment had worn off or would I be adding cognitive dissonance to my gender dysphoria? 

To my glee, the cosmos had smiled upon me.  At home, as in the salon, the wig was perfect.  I had found myself, I could now see the true me.  Looking in the mirror there was no longer a sad and depressed man staring back.  Instead, the reflection was a happy and confident woman. 

The reflection was Brooke, she was smiling, and she would no longer fear her reflection.   

Good Morning Ladies. 

No chapter today, just me taking out some mental garbage. 

I've had some highs the past week or so and some lows as my symptoms of gender dysphoria have gone through their cycles.

It's funny(ish) I frequently have this need to validate the authenticity of my identity, find ways to erase self doubt or maybe illuminate that it has all just been a mental misunderstanding.  Perhaps in a way I want to find a way out of this bizarre condition.  For instance, suddenly discover that I have a vitamin C deficiency and that's why I want to be a woman. 

Of course that is just silly but seemingly impossible situations produce some ridiculous answers. At least they do in the bewildering mind of Brooke, it's truly a puzzling place. 

Anyway.  I will be humming along, GD will be little more than a very distant whisper and I will begin to have some self doubts.  While the stresses of gender dysphoria are nauseating, they have always been a very reliable compass.  Moments where it goes silent can be confusing, I will just feel numb.  For me, these moments are generally short lived and I will get triggered, the tsunami of GD returns with a fury and I will again know who I am. 

However, during that period of numbness, I will feel compelled to re-diagnose myself.  I cannot tell you how many times I have read the clinical markers of GD.  I know I check every box, I know it.  But during these safaris into the "in-between" this re-affirmation is a practice I seem to be doomed to repeat. 

So, I am going to write all of this down in my blog in hopes of ending this Groundhog Day once a for all.  Here goes.. 

The DSM-5-TR defines gender dysphoria in adolescents and adults as a marked incongruence between one's experienced/expressed gender and their assigned gender, lasting at least 6 months, as manifested by at least two of the following: 6 months? try 48 years

A marked incongruence between one's experienced/expressed gender and primary and/or secondary sex characteristics (or in young adolescents, the anticipated secondary sex characteristics)
I have an overwhelming desire to feel and express femininity

A strong desire to be rid of one's primary and/or secondary sex characteristics because of a marked incongruence with one's experienced/expressed gender (or in young adolescents, a desire to prevent the development of the anticipated secondary sex characteristics)
Yes, this is a dream for me.

A strong desire for the primary and/or secondary sex characteristics of the other gender
Goes hand in hand with above.  Sometimes I muse if Ikea makes a home GCS kit and what it would be called but I digress

A strong desire to be of the other gender (or some alternative gender different from one's assigned gender)
Pretty sure that since I checked the first three boxes I have, by default, checked the crap out of this one.

A strong desire to be treated as the other gender (or some alternative gender different from one's assigned gender)
Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes times eleventy

A strong conviction that one has the typical feelings and reactions of the other gender (or some alternative gender different from one's assigned gender)
See previous answer, ditto.

And yes, all of these symptoms have caused significant distress. 

Ok, there. Done.  No more of this nonsense.  I am who I am.

"So shall it be written, so shall it be done". said some dude in a toga. 

So with that rubbish taken out to the curb I resolve to find a new compass.  Sure GD is super reliable but I am tired of being in a place where I must count on emotional distress to re-affirm my identity.  This has become exhausting.  I need to find ways to feel Gender Euphoria on a more frequent basis.  Let something positive lead the way rather than being pushed by the darkness of dysphoria.

To this end, I took a giant leap this past week and I told my boss I was trans.  She has always been very supportive of me and I knew this would go well and it did.  I wasn't asking for any workplace changes, I just wanted a person at work to know the real me. Finally have someone that I could interact with where I could be seen.  Wow, I underestimated how calming and affirming this would be.  Being seen and accepted as your true identity, what a novel idea. 

Gender Euphoria is indeed a shinier compass, one that I will endeavor to use way more often. 


Warm Regards,

Brooke


PS:  Look for the könsbekräftelseoperation on an Ikea shelf near you.  ;D

@Brooke Renee
Dear Brooke:

Good morning to you too....    here, on Sunday morning it is 6:45am and a cool 2 degrees(f)
I am getting my coffee and getting ready to go to church.

   Wow-whee.... I loved reading your good report that you just posted this morning.  :)  :icon_flower:

Quote"To this end, I took a giant leap this past week and I told my boss I was trans.  She has always been very supportive of me and I knew this would go well and it did.  I wasn't asking for any workplace changes, I just wanted a person at work to know the real me. Finally have someone that I could interact with where I could be seen.  Wow, I underestimated how calming and affirming this would be.  Being seen and accepted as your true identity, what a novel idea." 

I will be eagerly looking for more of your postings and updates here on your Blog thread and elsewhere around the Forum.

HUGS, Danielle

Quote from: Northern Star Girl on February 11, 2024, 09:48:40 AM@Brooke Renee
Dear Brooke:

Good morning to you too....    here, on Sunday morning it is 6:45am and a cool 2 degrees(f)
I am getting my coffee and getting ready to go to church.

   Wow-whee.... I loved reading your good report that you just posted this morning.  :)  :icon_flower:

I will be eagerly looking for more of your postings and updates here on your Blog thread and elsewhere around the Forum.

HUGS, Danielle

Thank you Danielle!  It's nice when light finally turns on. 

I hope you have a wonderful day and stay warm up there!


Hugs,

Brooke

It was nice to hear that you had confided your secrete to your boss. As you express more and more it will feel wonderful, fraught with the occasional wth am I doing? The wth moments get fewer and fewer. Stay on the right trail.
Hugs Gina

Chapter 13


Hold on, back up..  Yeah, I guess my last chapter did end with me using my name and perhaps now is a good time to chat about how the name Brooke Renée came to be. 

Finding my name was kind of my capstone on the journey of self awareness.  For many years I never allowed myself to see me as the woman within.  My reasoning was pretty simple, it was just one more facet of my denial.  Up until just a few years ago I lived comfortably in my little box.  My desires were nothing more than a hobby.  If I was too scared to acknowledge my identity I sure was not going to give that identity a name. 

This changed when all of those walls came crashing down.  I was starting to browse some of the forums such as Susan's and it occurred to me that I needed a screen name.  That notion really stopped me in my tracks.  Holy smokes, this is a super important decision.  Not many of us get to choose our name, this is a big deal.

But, because my walls of denial had just recently failed my identity was chugging all things feminine.  I remember talking to another trans woman regarding this and she assured me that I was normal.  She said that once you come to grips with your reality you are going to experience all of the emotions that you have held back for many, many years. 

Wow, was she spot on.  It seemed like overnight the list of GD triggers expanded exponentially.  While this was uncomfortable it was the real.  What I mean is, for literally decades I had been living a lie but now I was finally being honest with myself. 

So many trans women talk about how they went "a tad" overboard when they had a similar moment of self recognition.  It's like you suddenly explode in this giant pink mushroom cloud that envelops everything in its path.  One of my friends recall redecorating her bedroom in all pastels, others like myself turned to some serious online shopping where our choices were a bit intense.

And.. this pink explosion definitely shaped my early name musings.  I was now running away from anything that sounded even remotely masculine or gender neutral.  I scored baby name websites for hours to find a first and middle name that matched my identity.  Some of my early leanings were clearly ridiculous as they were hyper feminine.

But that is kind of how the transition goes for a lot of ladies in my shoes.  Fortunately I had the sense to just chill out and let the swinging pendulum find something a bit more in the middle.  I'm not going to divulge some of the early choices but trust me, there were some dandies. 

A few weeks later I was in a better headspace to take serious swing at this task.  For me, my named needed to represent who I am, what is important to me, what my energy is.  I have always been drawn to the mountains, I love all the little streams and wild flowers.  Closing my eyes and visualizing my happy places the name Brooke emerged pretty fast. 

Once I had that name at the front of my thoughts I needed to vet it against a lifetime of interpersonal relationships.  That's really just a pleasant way of saying "has anyone named Brooke pissed me off at any time in my life?"  Nope, I have known a few Brookes, and they all were nice. Okay, I got past that first hurdle.  Next was does the name Brooke seem feminine enough without being over the top?  Yep, that works too.  The more I said my name the more it just seemed to fit.  Choosing a middle name proved to be a tad more difficult but I eventually arrived at Renée which was a way to honor my mom's choice had I been born female. 

It was also at this time that I began to take notice of pronouns.  Oh wow, hearing She or Her in the context of Brooke was (and still is) incredibly affirming.  Up until this point I honestly felt that the pronoun movement was actually kind of silly.  But once I heard my name used in a sentence with my correct pronouns my position flipped immediately.  Sometimes I will craft a paragraph in my mind where I can use my name plus She and Her, perhaps a juvenile exercise but it does make me feel affirmed and it has become a nice little tool to fend off GD. 

"Did Brooke order that new dress that she has been talking about?  Yes, she did and it arrived at her house today.  Brooke said it fit her perfectly, she is super excited".

It's now be several years since I chose my name and hearing it spoken still gets me.  Yesterday I was showing my wife a dress that I thought was pretty and she immediately quipped "get it, that is soooo Brooke!"  I'm still glowing from that moment.  Happiness.

Good Morning Ladies,

Spent the night tossing and turning, mind seemingly unable to turn off.  I just couldn't stop thinking about what should have been.  You know, the pointless mind garbage of "why me"?  Why in the heck was I born with all of these feminine feelings crammed into a male meat suit. 

I guess just a plain old GD attack.  But this seemed particularly insidious and focused on all the missed opportunities from growing up in the wrong body.  I guess it's silly, but for some reason missed events such as girl's day shopping trips with my mom or attending parties and events as a girl.  Activities centric to little girls versus little boys.  Going to the mall and buying makeup for the first time.  Or the big one- bodily changes during adolescence that are in alignment with my identity.

Just all of the gendered activities and development that mark the milestones of a girl becoming a woman.

But no, I was forced to do all of this boy stuff that at best, I was totally apathetic about.  And at worst, I absolutely loathed. 

I suppose it is no surprise that I now run (screaming) away from anything remotely masculine and towards anything that is solidly binary feminine.  Yes, labels such as masculine and feminine are subjective and are very much a moving target.  And yes, they are frequently used to place folks needlessly into pointless boxes.   But, you know what I am trying to say.  If door number one led to blue jeans and baseball hats and door number two led to cute shoes and pretty dresses, I will always walk into the second choice.     

Seems like I heard this version of darkness termed "existential gender dysphoria".  Great, that is delightfully clinical.  Whatever it's called, I just know I woke up struggling.  I keep thinking about what it would be like to be openly feminine every day, in every way without hesitation.  To be seen by the world as the woman I am.  To be accepted, without second glance, as the woman I am.  Just another female living her life as another female.  Nothing to see here, move along. 

Anyway gender dysphoria totally blows.  It will pass, it usually does. Thanks for letting me vent.   

Brooke, you are not alone. I think we've all been there. Instead of lamenting the past, use your energy to work towards a better future. It isn't easy, but for many of us, it's worth any price to finally shed our old skin and become the beautiful person we've always known ourselves to be.

Venting is healthy, please feel free to do so whenever the need arises.

Love always -- Jess

Chapter 14

This last Thursday I had my reoccurring therapist session which have become treasured moments.  They are video calls which makes the commute a snap (or a click..) plus I get to deliver the full Brooke experience without the anxiety of being stared at by a transphobic passerby.  But more on that later. 

Some of you may recall that I awoke Thursday morning with a particularly gnarly episode of gender dysphoria.  My moods became very dark and I am still bruised as I write this today.  Fortunately my therapist session was that afternoon which provided me the opportunity to talk my way through the event but also an epiphany. 

Some context.  My current living situation is complicated but amicable, my wife is well aware of Brooke but like many wives, she is not interesting in being married to a woman.  While the darkness of GD is exhausting, the thought of losing my wife is even more distressing.  So I have made a choice to not fully transition, instead I take my low dose of HRT and have my Brooke moments to feel whole. 

Not only does my wife support this arrangement, she is adamant that I take my HRT and she actively encourages me to have my Brooke time which is heartwarming.  Is this the perfect arrangement?  I guess that depends on if I am in the middle of a GD episode, if that's the case, then it is barely tolerable.  However, if the GD is in remission, then mine is a fairly cheerful existence. The problem, which has nothing to do with my wife, is I become very task focused on helping others, taking care of work concerns, and everything else about day-to-day life that I rarely grant myself time to take of my needs.  This always leads to some disastrous mental consequences. 

It's embarrassing to admit just how many times I have unearthed this little nugget of wisdom. 

Anyway, back to last Thursday.  Woke up, felt super yucky, went to work in a foul mood.  Got home that afternoon, still under a cloud of darkness.  Wanted to cry.  Actually cried.  Shook fist at sky.  Was generally a very unhappy person. 

Then I started getting ready for my therapist video call. 

I opened my closet, starting browsing my choices.  Would I wear a dress today, or a skirt and top?  How about those cute shorts?  Oh, I like the shorts, those would go great with that colorful chambray shirt over a white satin cami.  Then it was time for hair and makeup.  As I savored each step in getting ready I could feel the darkness clear, my mind quiet.  With the final touches on my lipstick I was again blessed with a dose of the most powerful GD treatment, seeing my true self. 

Ahhhhhhhhh, there she is, I smile at the sky, and I'm now a generally very happy woman.

Is it an epiphany if it is reoccurring?  Probably not. Is it even an epiphany if someone else has to explain it to you?  Also probably not.   

In any case, I spoke about this during my session and I'm sure my therapist desperately wanted to roll her eyes.  Instead, she compassionately drove the point home.  To paraphrase, "Brooke, you are Brooke.  You are a woman.  If you don't seize moments to take care of your needs the GD will overtake you.  There is only one treatment for GD and that is transition." 

All this time I have been very reactive in my approach to gender dysphoria.  I now realize (yes, re-realize) that is a horrible way to live and one that is doomed to fail.  If I give myself the time to be me at the front end, the GD episodes will be significantly less intense and perhaps even shorter lived. 

Yes, Yes, Yes, and Yes.  I know this is a classic "No Duh Brooke" moment.  I know that okay.  At the most basic level, having my Brooke times are directly analogous to any other form of preventive health care.  Hopefully, openly admitting how thick I have been on this issue will help drive that point home to myself.

So here I am, once again focused on what I need to be the best me.  Maybe this time the lesson will take.

Crossing fingers and off to place a MAC order for some new primer and maybe a lipstick. 


Thank you for listening. 


Hugs,

Brooke
 





     

Why is transitioning the only treatment?  I need something else, because I can't do that. 

Yes, I understand how dark GD can make a day (week, month, etc.). I am glad that I am not having a hard time right now.  Right now, I am able to focus on others.  So, that is a good thing. 

There should be something that can help extend the mild times, and shorten the dark times.

Hey Brooke -

SO sorry you're hitting those rock-hard GD walls. God, those are the worst!

I have no idea if this will be helpful or not, but reading your post I found so many parallels to my situation, and in fact you're far more advanced on many levels. And yet GD is becoming a hazy, awful memory for me.

And it struck me in a way that calls back to my therapy session last week, and something my therapist said. Like I said, don't know if it will helpful... but...

Anyway, what I brought up was that I felt like I'd built myself a little "trans bubble".  Since the big step of telling my wife almost two years ago...we've slowly started changing my wardrobe, I've being doing electrolysis, started hormones, etc... but it's just been us (until tonight!). No more risk, nothing. And it feels EASY. So I asked her if that meant I was somehow ok being here? And not transitioning further? Because I didn't think that was possible. But then why did I feel so ... "comfortable."

She said (and this is the part that made me think of you), that reason I am GD-free, the reason I'm able to be comfortable at my own slow pace is that I know am a free to move on. My outlook on the future is HOPEFUL.

Your wardrobe is miles beyond mine. Your makeup skills are incredible. You've been fully Brooke... I mean,  you're steps and steps beyond me. But right now, you don't have HOPE. So THAT is what is limiting you.

You have an amazing, supportive wife. You've got an arrangement that works for you...except the one thing you need is some kind of hope, that maybe in the future, something could change. Either you have to give that to yourself with your therapist, or with your wife... I don't know.

But like I said, it seems like maybe somehow finding something you can be hopeful about will allow you to appreciate where you are and what you have, instead of seeing that wall in front of you.

Again, apologies if this doesn't resonate at all. Your post felt like it was part of that exact topic I was discussing with my therapist... so that's why I thought you might find it useful.

Love,
Allie

Hi Brooke and Rachael

If there was cure for being gender dysphoric, the wisdom and knowledge of others in your situations, would have posted a solution for everyone to read and see a long time ago.

The degree on how far you take your individual transitions and circumstances is up to you and only you.

Something I know, personally and deeply, I have always helped others, if I was able to, that's me.  If you have read 'Sarah's Story', my wanting and longing to be a female was growing stronger and stronger.

If I stayed where I was, I do not know what would have happened to me, more than likely not good.  So I sacrificed everything, to take care of myself, selfish? yes.  However, I survived and thrived and for the last 36 odd years, I have been able to help others in more ways than one.

So what I'm trying to say is this, you have to look after number one and that is you.  If you are not around and you are not well.  Then you will not be able to help anyone else.

Please look after yourselves and if your 'dysphoria' gets worse please seek help.

Love and Hugs to both of you
Sarah B
@REM.1126
@Brooke Renee

Quote from: imallie on February 24, 2024, 09:36:41 PMHey Brooke -

SO sorry you're hitting those rock-hard GD walls. God, those are the worst!

I have no idea if this will be helpful or not, but reading your post I found so many parallels to my situation, and in fact you're far more advanced on many levels. And yet GD is becoming a hazy, awful memory for me.

And it struck me in a way that calls back to my therapy session last week, and something my therapist said. Like I said, don't know if it will helpful... but...

Anyway, what I brought up was that I felt like I'd built myself a little "trans bubble".  Since the big step of telling my wife almost two years ago...we've slowly started changing my wardrobe, I've being doing electrolysis, started hormones, etc... but it's just been us (until tonight!). No more risk, nothing. And it feels EASY. So I asked her if that meant I was somehow ok being here? And not transitioning further? Because I didn't think that was possible. But then why did I feel so ... "comfortable."

She said (and this is the part that made me think of you), that reason I am GD-free, the reason I'm able to be comfortable at my own slow pace is that I know am a free to move on. My outlook on the future is HOPEFUL.

Your wardrobe is miles beyond mine. Your makeup skills are incredible. You've been fully Brooke... I mean,  you're steps and steps beyond me. But right now, you don't have HOPE. So THAT is what is limiting you.

You have an amazing, supportive wife. You've got an arrangement that works for you...except the one thing you need is some kind of hope, that maybe in the future, something could change. Either you have to give that to yourself with your therapist, or with your wife... I don't know.

But like I said, it seems like maybe somehow finding something you can be hopeful about will allow you to appreciate where you are and what you have, instead of seeing that wall in front of you.

Again, apologies if this doesn't resonate at all. Your post felt like it was part of that exact topic I was discussing with my therapist... so that's why I thought you might find it useful.

Love,
Allie

I think you are dead-on, Allie. I am in a similar situation as Brooke (my wife also cannot envision living with a woman) and the lack of a perspective for change, the feeling being stuck here forever is really killing me at times. There is a huge difference between being on a journey, albeit a slow one, and treading water in the same spot.

Hugs,

Heidemarie

The whole wife thing can become so complicated. I find my wife and I are getting along much better now that sex and intimacy have diminished. We still live as a married couple but its more hugs and a quick kiss on the check or forehead. Still share the same bed but no sex. Occasionally we still cuddle but we have become more good friends than lovers. It is defiantly evolving and where it goes is anybody's guess.
If Gina is not allowed to play she gets mad and the GD demon roars! I am out all the time but much of the time its in work clothes doing 'man' stuff. I find even a trip to the store allows me a chance to get dressed up and go out. Defiantly keeps my GD at bay, well most of the time it works.
Hugs Gina

Quote from: Sarah B on February 24, 2024, 11:11:42 PMHi Brooke and Rachael

If there was cure for being gender dysphoric, the wisdom and knowledge of others in your situations, would have posted a solution for everyone to read and see a long time ago.

....

So what I'm trying to say is this, you have to look after number one and that is you.  If you are not around and you are not well.  Then you will not be able to help anyone else.

Please look after yourselves and if your 'dysphoria' gets worse please seek help.

Love and Hugs to both of you
Sarah B
@REM.1126
@Brooke Renee

My GD does get worse, and better.  It waxes and wanes, or rises and falls.  If it rises and won't stop rising, I'll be forced to take action.  But, so far I have been able to ride out the rough times(a couple of times just barely, but I have decided suicide is not an option). 

If I have to transition to have a decent life, I will.  If I don't HAVE to, I won't.

I am far from perfect.  I have many flaws, but being selfish isn't something I tend towards.  Pride?  Maybe.  I pride myself on being able to tolerate difficulties that others might bail on.  And, maybe at some times it results in my getting in over my head a bit.  But, not too much yet, because I am still here. 

I have come up with a LOT of coping strategies.  I think most of them
Are familiar to many of us.  I am not saying I cracked any new code.  And, they don't always work. 

They basically boil down to "distractions".  There is staying so busy with work that I don't have time to think about myself. That works until I exhaust myself.  There are learning new skills.  At this point, I am sort of a Jill of all trades.  There are hobbies: guitar, hunting (deer, quail, duck, dove, turkey, including: archery, marksmanship, shooting clays), fishing, SCUBA and flying.

There is dressing en femme.  That generally works, particularly if I can see "myself" in the mirror.  Doing that has made me cry a few times, because "there... I see myself" but I know I can't allow it to last; but I know I could if I would.

And, that leads me to the most effective strategy yet:  feeling some control over my life by reminding myself that this is a choice, and I have the option to transition if I decide to do so.  I am not trapped.  I choose to stay here. 

If my health were to close off transition as an option, I think that would upset me a great deal.

Quote from: Iztaccihuatl on February 25, 2024, 12:39:21 AM... the feeling being stuck here forever is really killing me at times. There is a huge difference between being on a journey, albeit a slow one, and treading water in the same spot.

Hugs,

Heidemarie

I get that.  A lack of control over your life is extremely difficult to accept.  Of course, control is often an illusion.  But, we certainly have some control over the course of our lives.

Quote from: REM.1126 on February 25, 2024, 09:54:41 PMIf my health were to close off transition as an option, I think that would upset me a great deal.

The choice for many of us is/was continue being miserable fighting GD or live as our true self. I was a work-a-holic my whole life not wanting to have any free time. It kept me from dwelling on the GD. BUT it was always there and never went away. It just got worse. Only after transitioning have I found happiness and joy.
Every ones journey is different and I know you will find your path, Brooke. Have no fear, Brooke is here.
Hugs Gina

Good Morning Ladies,

Thank you all for the thoughtful and supportive replies. 

Allie, your comments do resonate with me.  Having something to look forward to, something on the horizon that I know I am moving towards is and very powerful carrot. I feel like there is something out there, it's just that I do not yet know what it is.  So perhaps that is the bright spot I need to hold on to- knowing that something great is coming. 

Sarah B and Rachel,  I think so many of us have spent our lives in service of others.  We seem to be givers by nature.  A thought that entered my mind the other day was that maybe we give and give and give with the subconscious motivation to add karma capitol to the bank account in the event we are discovered.  That perhaps, all the people in our lives will not run fleeing because we have made ourselves indispensable.  Roll in the fear that more time as ourselves equal more opportunity for conflict and now you have an unsustainable situation.  I think it is all about balance, and I know my balance has been way off.  I love my family but I am not Wonder Woman, I cannot be everywhere at once.  If I am going to be the best for them, I need time to be the best for me. 

Thank you Gina and Heidemarie for your words of support here and in our text group.  Immersing myself in distractions has been a life long coping mechanism but that is no longer sustainable either.  However, there sure is a lot of mental muscle memory to change.  Brooke is real, she exists, she feels pain and happiness, she needs her time to be her.  I know that now, I just need to let it happen. 


Hugs Ladies,

Brooke

Quote from: Gina P on February 26, 2024, 05:34:57 AMThe choice for many of us is/was continue being miserable fighting GD or live as our true self. I was a work-a-holic my whole life not wanting to have any free time. It kept me from dwelling on the GD. BUT it was always there and never went away....

Yes, it has never gone away. It is always there.  But, distractions can help me dwell on it less.  And, that makes it easier to cope with. 

Back in 1997-98, I was utterly miserable every day. GD was consuming me. A rational person would have resolved to transition then (if not well before then).  But, I didn't allow transition as a choice.  I considered my alternatives more of the same or death. 

I tried to kill myself and failed.  After that I was too depressed to even try to kill myself.  And, I decided that if I killed myself things would never get better, but the hurting would stop.  The only chance at anything becoming better was to keep going.  And, I decided that if I couldn't take another moment, I would kill myself.  But, as long as I could stand another moment, I would keep moving.

I now think that you can probably always stand another moment.  Suicide is off the table.  Now, it is keep going as is or transition.  The major difference is, unlike suicide if I transition things might actually get better.  It is a much better choice.  I can't imagine why I didn't see that back then.