Normally I loathe doing introductions like these, but if everyone here can be so courageous as to share their experience, I should have the same courtesy. Please call me Yukari, a nickname I earned in college for my style of driving (ask an anime fan about Azumanga Daioh).
I am 32, currently male in body if not spirit, a former educator and have returned to college in pursuit of a degree in Nursing. I am recently married to a wonderful woman who, despite all reservations and fear, has supported me in this process.
From the beginning, I remember being 4 and throwing change into every wishing well I could – wishing to be the girl that I knew I was. When that failed to work, I remember throwing myself into prayer hoping God would change me. When I was old enough to understand God does not work like that, I prayed to make these feelings go away. I lived a double life until high school, dressing one way at school, and another when I was left at home. There was so much confusion back then, wondering why I was attracted to girls when I wanted to be one too. I felt like I was broken and fear meant I could never ask anyone to "fix" me.
In reading my mother's nursing books, I discovered what I was but instead looked for every reason to avoid applying the diagnosis to myself. In moments of intermittent courage, I nearly came out to friends back then, but came quickly to the conclusion "my kind" were not to be tolerated. Eventually I resolved it was a phase, ignored the problem, and ate my pain away. I'm still dealing with those consequences...
Now I stand upon the cusp of new possibilities. I have been in counseling, and have been referred to an endocrinologist for HRT. I can have the change I have wanted since childhood... at the potential cost of the woman I love more than my life itself. We both love each other, we both want children, we both want a future together, but she is not sure she could handle loving another woman or the idea the state would dissolve our marriage. I hope she can come to terms with it, because the cost of losing her love is a price I won't and can't pay.
But rather than ending this on such a pessimistic note, I say bona fortuna to us all. Pugnamus cum animis!
