It is a little bit funny really; I don't identify with the person who called himself Doug. I don't dislike him, I just don't feel like I know him very well anymore. I don't dream as him, nor do I find much of what he used to do very interesting. Hormones? Alzheimer's disease?
Ever since I went to court and legally became Julie Blair last November, Doug has been slowly dissipating. Even some memories are fading. I have a conference at the end of April in New Orleans where I will come out to colleagues from all over the US. Then I call HR to set up that meeting and become integrated into the organization as Julie. Mail off the passport paperwork, and go get my picture taken for my drivers license (I'm already Julie in the DOT files). All the letters and medical confirmation paperwork is completed for that and social security. Finally I have to change my financial profile, and then Doug will be no more.
I wonder why that seems somehow melancholy? It didn't before I wrote this down, but I'm oddly emotional. Maybe I have to bury him. What seems even stranger to me, is that I have been working towards, and anticipating this for two years and now that it is on the cusp of reality, there are tears on my cheeks.
I not anxious or afraid, just kind of grieving. Any thoughts?
Oddly enough, Julie, I recently had part of a conversation with someone on this very issue. ;)
My best guess, somebody you grew up with has "died". You are mourning the loss of a person who has been with you throughout this process, albeit fading away. I get little twinges of that too, but then, remembering that tomorrow is where I'm going, I can shape that; and yesterday is immutable, I regain perspective and while I miss the old guy (he was SUCH a card!) I'm so happy to be Ellie.
Thanks Ellie,
I'm happy you're Ellie too.
j
Quote from: JulieBlair on March 28, 2014, 12:07:43 PM
It is a little bit funny really; I don't identify with the person who called himself Doug. I don't dislike him, I just don't feel like I know him very well anymore. I don't dream as him, nor do I find much of what he used to do very interesting. Hormones? Alzheimer's disease?
Ever since I went to court and legally became Julie Blair last November, Doug has been slowly dissipating. Even some memories are fading. I have a conference at the end of April in New Orleans where I will come out to colleagues from all over the US. Then I call HR to set up that meeting and become integrated into the organization as Julie. Mail off the passport paperwork, and go get my picture taken for my drivers license (I'm already Julie in the DOT files). All the letters and medical confirmation paperwork is completed for that and social security. Finally I have to change my financial profile, and then Doug will be no more.
I wonder why that seems somehow melancholy? It didn't before I wrote this down, but I'm oddly emotional. Maybe I have to bury him. What seems even stranger to me, is that I have been working towards, and anticipating this for two years and now that it is on the cusp of reality, there are tears on my cheeks.
I not anxious or afraid, just kind of grieving. Any thoughts?
What you are going through is pretty normal. Honestly, I hated myself before, so moving forward to live my life as Laura was a huge relief. The only thing that made it suck was dealing with the crap from family members. They were all pretty pissed once I was dropping my surname that I was given at birth. A lot of them saw it as "me cutting ties with them". But I told them that was complete crap. If I REALLY wanted to do that I would have come out and say:
Hi! I'm changing my name completely and now you all can get lost!Of course I never had any intentions of doing that. Other than that headache (along with the usual paperwork crap....oy!), It wasn't all that bad.
Endings are painful and strange. I haven't looked back much, and I don't really miss anything about my life as a male except the earlier part of my marriage. But there are times I feel a little empty, like I do when I look back on places and times I can never return to even though I wasn't terribly happen when I was there.
Quote from: suzifrommd on March 28, 2014, 12:46:23 PM
Endings are painful and strange. I haven't looked back much, and I don't really miss anything about my life as a male except the earlier part of my marriage. But there are times I feel a little empty, like I do when I look back on places and times I can never return to even though I wasn't terribly happen when I was there.
Not so much painful, but certainly strange. That I am seeing my old life in the third person feels weird. There are things and images that I hope linger. The vistas from the summits of mountains I've climbed. The view of the northern lights over a phosphorescent ocean. Playing music with people I love. These too seem detached from my present. Fortunately the friends remain, the mountains still stand, and the pacific ocean is still to the west. That I have to conjure up the pain and self loathing, the ridicule and loneliness that were much of my existence is not a bad thing. I guess I wonder how it will all integrate over time. Sigh, at least I have something to talk to my shrink about next session.
Love You All,
j
Quote from: JulieBlair on March 28, 2014, 12:07:43 PM
It is a little bit funny really; I don't identify with the person who called himself Doug. I don't dislike him, I just don't feel like I know him very well anymore. .............
I wonder why that seems somehow melancholy? It didn't before I wrote this down, but I'm oddly emotional. Maybe I have to bury him. What seems even stranger to me, is that I have been working towards, and anticipating this for two years and now that it is on the cusp of reality, there are tears on my cheeks.
I not anxious or afraid, just kind of grieving. Any thoughts?
I find it is interesting how a post pops up that seems to be timed prefectly. This is very much describing how I am kind of feeling now that I am close to putting the guy behind me forever as well.
Maybe it is one of the phases of death or something like that. It does make me feel sort of awkward though at this point. No plans to delay or change things just sort of an unexpected step in the process.
Thanks for sharing I am again not unique
I don't think we ever can give up the past. that is part of us. good or bad. we can never bury the past.
Having dysphoria is a terrible burden. I don't know what the answers are. Is fulltime the answer maybe for you.
nothing has died in you unless you want to believe that.
Being a male is part of our lives and going away from that is not easy.
I was just talking with a friend about something similar to this. I finding it harder and harder to relate to my pre transition self. I even have a hard time relating to the person I was early in transition when I was afraid I would never be full time or pass. Transitioning is like life as we evolve and change the person you were before kinda disappears. It's normal as you settle into your new life that you let your old one go.
Julie,
I know the feeling...my male side is mostly gone...even though sometimes I don't realize it.. however everyone around me says I am completely different.
I have only been on HRT 3 months ..
Funny, I miss the old me too.. not sure why.. I think as my wife does I kinda mourn the old me.. don't really like to see that person go but I don't even know how to act like him anymore.
My therapist says I really did not change just became who I was peeling off a layer at a time.
Have a wonderful weekend
Carrie
I did feel sad about dude-me, he wasn't a bad guy, doing the best he could dealt the wrong gender card so I didn't hate him. I've mentioned elsewhere that I don't really see myself in terms of 'he' or 'she', just 'me'. That helped me move through a sense of mourning that was definitely lurking around going full time.
Thanks again to everyone. I cherish this forum, as it both keeps me thinking in a positive direction and always assures me that I am neither terminally unique, nor terminally alone. I have chatted with the women of Susan's Place more than my family lately, and have come away better for the experience.
Ciao,
j
I remember when P died, he had protected me and hid me for many years, but one day he left. I don't grieve for him, I thank him for being brave, but it is my life now.
Last November/December when all my documents started to come in marking me legally as Paige I grieved for Matthew. I think it's just part of the process for some of us.
I don't think he's really gone for me though, more retired. Which is good seeing as I need the voice he had for rockin' on karaoke night! :D