Susan's Place Transgender Resources

i'm a lurker by nature.  i search, i watch, i absorb.  so i suppose it's pretty out of character for me to try and make myself part of a community.  it's important though, i think.  there's a local support group just 45 minutes away by train, but it isn't like i'm going to leave home to attend; i'm not fond of dubbing myself 'anti-social', but i guess that's the appropriate term...something along the lines of social anxiety feels more applicable.  i don't hate you, you simply make me anxious.

my name is elijah.  i was born 21 going on 22 year ago as rebekah in a halfway large, halfway not so large northwest city where there are lots of pine trees, hot summers, suburban neighborhoods, and a downtown that wants to be more hip like its big seattle cousin than it will ever be.  rather than write volumes about my childhood experiences, as i'm sure once i got going i would end up writing more than anyone wants to hear, i'll fast forward. 

the first time i moved out of my mom's house at 18, i changed.  something happened.  i can't pin it down exactly, and when my therapist asked me, "when did you first want to be a boy?" i couldn't produce a concrete answer.  i don't know.  i just remember writing those hundreds of pages of fiction with my girlfriend, our fingers clacking against the keys of my macintosh laptop for hours.  back and forth.  back and forth.  writing as a male character clicked with me, and at some point i bought a stick of after hours old spice, a pair of baggy jeans, and i guess that's where it all began.  i relied on google to tell me what it meant for a girl to want to be a boy, to find her own anatomy awkward and undesireable, to want other people to call her something else.  i stayed up late, wide eyed, sifting through pictures of phalloplasties and mastectomies. 

it was easier for me to look like a girl.  men's clothes hung on my skeletal frame and i looked lost and confused in them, as comfortable as i felt.  my new favorite clothes were left to sit in drawers and on hangers for a day's wear here and there, but i went back to my quirky, feminine fashions of stockings and knit things and colorful layers and plastic jewelry.  i grew my hair out again and brought out my make up.  it was easier.

the second time i moved away from my parents a year later, i reverted back.  the hair was taken to a cheap salon and unceremoniously hacked off until i was satisfied, i dug out my favorite pants, and i was comfortable again.  weird looking, but that was alright.  it wound up still easier for me to look like a girl, and, broke and at the end of my lease, i moved back in with my mom.

i played the pretty girl for a while, and it certainly seemed to work for everyone else.  it worked until one night fall of last year i just cried.  it was cold and i had blankets piled up all around me, my laptop casting an eerie glow on me and my mangy calico cat slumped over next to me.  vision blurry, i looked down at the small ledge under my t-shirt, shadows and folds alluding to the modest pair of breasts beneath cotton.  i pressed the heels of my hands into my eyes and i just cried. 

in the following days, my search for understanding started again and i would stay up late with headphones over my ears, hunched over my computer listening to people pour out intimate details to youtube, their boyish faces grainy and the lighting often horrible.  they weren't textbook definitions, they were human beings.  they were sixteen and questioning, twenty five and two years on hormones, they were all over the place and they all had amazing stories to tell me.  i watched them hold up their wriggly little packers and talk candidly about medicine spoons and rant about the insignificant people they encountered day to day that could just break their spirits with a simple mistake. 

a lengthy letter was written to my parents and, with their consent, i scheduled an appointment with a therapist to explore my gender identity issues.  four sessions later, i drove home in my little vw bug with a letter of recommendation to start testosterone on my lap.  it felt unreal.  all i really remember was being so dazed and elated that i took the wrong way home. 

this was early spring of 2010, and i just started testosterone a little more than two weeks ago.  i've had two shots, both of which have left me incredibly sore.  i limp around for a few days and my fiancee sighs and says, "it's not that i don't feel bad, but it's hard when you whine 'my butt hurts!'"  she's right. 

all of this, which is a lot longer than i anticipated, largely skims over all of my dysphoria and the many trials and tribulations i've faced so far.  it doesn't mention the fact that i haven't legally changed my name and so struggle with my name in terms of school and employment, the fact that i don't successfully come across as male to anyone, my thoughts on surgery, or the fact that no one in my family knows that i've started hormone replacement therapy.

i hope to be able to make some connections here and have the opportunity to talk with people going through similar things.  i hope to find useful acne remedies for when my skin no doubt turns on me, ways to disguise these hips of mine that, in the words of shakira, 'just don't lie'...  i have my fiancee, and she is the most wonderful young lady there is, but she and i are both just stumbling blindly through all of this.  i need a place like this, so here i am.  hello to all of you.


-elijah

PS - this is so serious!  five random facts about me:
1.  i love the dalek robots from dr. who
2.  i've been a world of warcraft junkie for 5+ years. 
3.  i'm gluten intolerant, which sucks because i love hostess products
4.  i have two rats, nadia and bianca, and an old cat named tikan
5.  i have a serious fondness for borscht, a russian beet soup

WOW! I can totally relate with the things that you stated in your post. We are similar in a lot of ways. Except I was born a male. First for me, I dont want to be a gurl, I am a girl. Noone chooses to live in the prison of a body we were born in. I too loooked great and modeled as a male and that worked for everyone, except me.

I would be interested in becoming friends with you. I do not know any FTM's, but would like to.

You can email me at iris1469@gmail.com, i look forward to hearing from you, but if you choose not to, good luck to you and just be you as long as you are happy everything else will fall into place!!!

Welcome to the forum Elijah  :icon_wave:

Although our life stories are different, I can relate in many ways. I am glad you have gotten on T, I cannot wait until I can afford to get to that point. You're on the right forum to make new friends. I joined here when my friends, even the trans ones, just didn't get what was going on with me and the people here quickly became a second family, hopefully the same thing will happen to you. Good luck with your transition  :)

Hi Elijah, :icon_wave:

Welcome to our little family. Over 3400 strong. That would be one heck of a family reunion.

Feel free to post your successes/failures, Hopes/dreams.  Ask questions and seek answers. Give and receive advice.

But remember we are family here, your family now. And it is always nice to have another brother. :icon_hug:

And be sure to check out these links ( MUST READS )

• Site Terms of Service and rules to live by  (https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php/topic,2.0.html)
  
• Standard Terms and Definitions (https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php/topic,54369.0.html)
  
• Post Ranks ( including when you can upload an avatar) (https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php/topic,114.0.html.)
  
• Reputation Rules (https://www.susans.org/forums/index.php/topic,18960.msg146855.html#msg146855)
  

Hugs and Love,
Janet

Welcome! I'm FtM as well and hope to begin therapy soon. Congrats on starting T! I'm new to the forum too and am looking forward to making some new friends. Hope your bum stops being sore, I know it's probably very annoying. Best wishes,

--Tyler