I had my two year anniversary on Saturday, living every moment of those two years as the woman I've always been in my mind, spirit and soul. I told my parents at 4, after my dad made my mom keep me out of her makeup, jewelry and the little girl clothes in their closet. They also emphatically told me I was a boy, but I cried and told them I was a girl and their daughter over and over again. Once they calmed me down and made me believe them, I told them "then I'm in the wrong body, because I'm supposed to be a girl." I had another one at 12 that still makes me cry sometimes when I think of it, because I only remembered it vaguely, but my mom described the whole thing. I realized that it was so heavy I tried to forget it. I told my mom, dad and brother at 16 and all three of them many times over the years. I attempted suicide three times, but after I came to after my last attempt, July 13th, 2011. I began to come to grips with it. Obviously I'd change being trans to being a cis girl at birth, but God or nature saw fit to make me female on the inside and semi male in appearance. I've come to embrace my life as it is, partly because I've never been outed or clocked by anyone I didn't know, which makes it a lot easier to cope and enjoy life. I do now, and my mom has been there for me in the most wonderful ways I couldn't even imagine before my transition, as was my brother till he passed away in July. Out of 120 facebook family and friends, I lost one friend, a pompous Christian Fundamentalist. I have many, many regrets about not transitioning when I first seriously began to at 23, because I wasted 34 years, but I'm happy now. The question of being happy as a transsexual, is for all intents and purposes, irrelevant, because I can't change one second ago, any more than I can change an instant  call the wasted years. I have to happily move forward in the time I have left on this planet. I'm in love with a guy and we'll have a year together on October 14th. My life's infinitely better than I dreamed it could be, so I can't really complain. I'm more loving, a better listener, a much better writer and I care more about people than I ever did as a male, but having been a male impersonator for all those years gave me an insight into men I don't think would have been possible as a cis woman. I also have a great deal of empathy for sick, injured and older people, but more than anything, babies born with birth defects, because that's how I look at myself, a girl born with a horrible deformity. Hugs, Mira

I forgot to add that after wanting so very, very desperately to be a woman for my entire life, the day I actually accepted myself came early in my transition and until that point was the happiest moment in my life. I've grown a great deal since then and almost every day gets a little better than the last. I'm who I've wanted to be from the womb, how can I be unhappy? Really! As much as I hated being a male impersonator, that's how much I love being the woman I am now. Hugs, Mira

I don't hate being trans, but it's not an ideal situation.

I do the best I can with what I've got, the alternative is not a choice for me.

Quote from: Elsa.G on August 23, 2012, 02:59:45 PM
Ive met people before who don't really mind it, but honestly i hate it. I hate every aspect of it and would definitely prefer to be genetically female more than anything else. -_-

Hate is a pretty strong word.  Since I began transition about 14 years ago I have long gotten tired of hating it, been there, done that.  But if I were to think about it and all the living I have lost out on due to having to transition I could probably muster up some pretty good resentment.  Sometimes I figure I have a more interesting outlook on life or like having had to transition has given me certain insights and caused me to be more conscious of life instead of taking it for granted but then I realize that is just ego BS though I imagine that compared to average men and women my time on Earth has gone much slower whereas people I went to high school with have probably raced to this point in their lives whereas for me it was like I spent my whole life waiting in line at the Department of Motor Vehicles.  I think that is a pretty accurate comparison and it skips past all the ego drivel.

Here are some words I found that fit this thread,

Real women do not have curves. Real women do not look like just one thing.

Real women have curves, and not. They are tall, and not. They are brown-skinned, and olive-skinned, and not. They have small breasts, and big ones, and no breasts whatsoever.

Real women start their lives as baby girls. And as baby boys. And as babies of indeterminate biological sex whose bodies terrify their doctors and families into making all kinds of very sudden decisions.

Real women have big hands and small hands and long elegant fingers and short stubby fingers and manicures and broken nails with dirt under them.

Real women have armpit hair and leg hair and pubic hair and facial hair and chest hair and sexy moustaches and full, luxuriant beards. Real women have none of these things, spontaneously or as the result of intentional change. Real women are bald as eggs, by chance and by choice and by chemo. Real women have hair so long they can sit on it. Real women wear wigs and weaves and extensions and kufi and do-rags and hairnets and hijab and headscarves and hats and yarmulkes and textured rubber swim caps with the plastic flowers on the sides.

Real women wear high heels and skirts. Or not.

Real women are feminine and smell good and they are masculine and smell good and they are androgynous and smell good, except when they don't smell so good, but that can be changed if desired because real women change stuff when they want to.

Real women have ovaries. Unless they don't, and sometimes they don't because they were born that way and sometimes they don't because they had to have their ovaries removed. Real women have uteruses, unless they don't, see above. Real women have vaginas and clitorises and XX sex chromosomes and high estrogen levels, they ovulate and menstruate and can get pregnant and have babies. Except sometimes not, for a rather spectacular array of reasons both spontaneous and induced.

Real women are fat. And thin. And both, and neither, and otherwise. Doesn't make them any less real.

There is a phrase I wish I could engrave upon the hearts of every single person, everywhere in the world, and it is this sentence which comes from the genius lips of the grand and eloquent Mr. Glenn Marla: There is no wrong way to have a body.

I'm going to say it again because it's important: There is no wrong way to have a body.

And if your moral compass points in any way, shape, or form to equality, you need to get this through your thick skull and stop with the "real women are like such-and-so" crap.

You are not the authority on what "real" human beings are, and who qualifies as "real" and on what basis. All human beings are real.

Yes, I know you're tired of feeling disenfranchised. It is a tiresome and loathsome thing to be and to feel. But the tit-for-tat disenfranchisement of others is not going to solve that problem. Solidarity has to start somewhere and it might as well be with you and me.""
—    Hanne Blank (via thestoutorialist)

Quote from: Joules on September 09, 2013, 08:13:01 AM
Shades of Beetlejuice here

May I steal this one?

It's yours Joules

Being trans and accepting it gave me THE REASON to live.  Now I'm doing something about it.

Hugs,

M.

Quote from: Michelle G on September 09, 2013, 12:46:31 PM
Here are some words I found that fit this thread,

Real women do not have curves. Real women do not look like just one thing.

Real women have curves, and not. They are tall, and not. They are brown-skinned, and olive-skinned, and not. They have small breasts, and big ones, and no breasts whatsoever.

Real women start their lives as baby girls. And as baby boys. And as babies of indeterminate biological sex whose bodies terrify their doctors and families into making all kinds of very sudden decisions.

Real women have big hands and small hands and long elegant fingers and short stubby fingers and manicures and broken nails with dirt under them.

Real women have armpit hair and leg hair and pubic hair and facial hair and chest hair and sexy moustaches and full, luxuriant beards. Real women have none of these things, spontaneously or as the result of intentional change. Real women are bald as eggs, by chance and by choice and by chemo. Real women have hair so long they can sit on it. Real women wear wigs and weaves and extensions and kufi and do-rags and hairnets and hijab and headscarves and hats and yarmulkes and textured rubber swim caps with the plastic flowers on the sides.

Real women wear high heels and skirts. Or not.

Real women are feminine and smell good and they are masculine and smell good and they are androgynous and smell good, except when they don't smell so good, but that can be changed if desired because real women change stuff when they want to.

Real women have ovaries. Unless they don't, and sometimes they don't because they were born that way and sometimes they don't because they had to have their ovaries removed. Real women have uteruses, unless they don't, see above. Real women have vaginas and clitorises and XX sex chromosomes and high estrogen levels, they ovulate and menstruate and can get pregnant and have babies. Except sometimes not, for a rather spectacular array of reasons both spontaneous and induced.

Real women are fat. And thin. And both, and neither, and otherwise. Doesn't make them any less real.

There is a phrase I wish I could engrave upon the hearts of every single person, everywhere in the world, and it is this sentence which comes from the genius lips of the grand and eloquent Mr. Glenn Marla: There is no wrong way to have a body.

I'm going to say it again because it's important: There is no wrong way to have a body.

And if your moral compass points in any way, shape, or form to equality, you need to get this through your thick skull and stop with the "real women are like such-and-so" crap.

You are not the authority on what "real" human beings are, and who qualifies as "real" and on what basis. All human beings are real.

Yes, I know you're tired of feeling disenfranchised. It is a tiresome and loathsome thing to be and to feel. But the tit-for-tat disenfranchisement of others is not going to solve that problem. Solidarity has to start somewhere and it might as well be with you and me.""
—    Hanne Blank (via thestoutorialist)

GREAT words!! Thank you so much for posting them!

I dont hate It... I hate that Most my family hates what I am just because my birth certificate has male checked.

I have sufferend so much from it... my entire life and still do... it often is hard not to hate it. But I try not to, because it does not help me.

xxx

the only good part about it is becoming closer to my true self. ever other part i hate with a passion. from the not being able to attend prom or just being held back in life in general. its all a pain. to see other people my age just doing stuff that they want to do..but i have to work on getting myself rid of gid. it sucks.

Tiptoeing in your footsteps Connie    Enjoying my first week of freedom as a matter of fact...   bittersweet.

No regrets.  Nor egrets. 

Quote from: Constance on August 23, 2012, 03:09:41 PM
Absolutely yes, I hate it. I wished I'd had a masculine gender identity to go with my male body. Being trans cost me my marriage.

Quote from: jussmoi4nao on September 11, 2013, 07:35:57 PM
It depends on the day. To be honest, I'm getting to the point where I just don't caaare haha. Boy or girl who gives a fuuuuq. I'm more wrapped up in life now, and having a good one. I'm just going on...I have a penis and so I am a boy, and really, it's not hard to be happy this way.

I'm a girl and I have a penis.. And I'm happy this way..

I hated it for years, but since starting transition, I've come to terms with it. It is what it is and I'm going to make the best of it. I would take being transgender over living as a guy anytime. Now living as a guy, I don't think I could have continued on like that without going insane. That's hate appropriate.

I'm a girl and what's between my legs is my own business  

Let there be a mystery !

You know the expression that hate is a strong word? It might be, but I don't feel it's strong enough for how much I hate having this medical condition. I loathe, abhor everything about it. I cannot name one good thing about this condition, not one. To those that say that it gets better with more HRT, SRS, etc. so what? My happiness does, sure, but in the end, those are life aspects (the end results of hormones, vagina) that should have been there from day one, well, the vagina at least. Give me the choice to become a natal girl right now, and I'd take it before the sentence was finished.

I hate having this so much really...just awful. I wouldn't wish this pain on my worst enemy. There is nothing good about psychosexual inversion and being born transsexual. Nothing, and I mean it.

Would you like pain that eats at you because you know your body is failing you, and as such, medications are necessary? Pain that is emotional, physical, deep set, over wishing that you could have been just as lucky as the girl a few feet in front of you, just to have what she takes likely for granted? Would you like nightly pains where you physically feel your uterus ripped out of your body, as was meant to have been there, giving you emptiness, and true pain? Wishing simply that your body could be right down there, gripping you with emotional pain like that of a tied rope around your stomach and hips, to the point where you want to cry? Wanting a relationship, but knowing you'd fail who you'd be with, because you couldn't serve them right, nor could you have his children one day, further limiting an already limited dating pool for yourself? I bet you wouldn't. THAT is what being transsexual is like to me, every day. It's not a joke, it's not a game, it's a nightmare.

I would rather have preferred to be born a female than having to deal with the transitioning, the cost, and it would just be a whole lot easier. But, I think that would have changed my childhood, and I loved my childhood. I loved playing with action figures and playing with boy things. I know usually most TG women wouldn't say something like that, but I don't think I really cared that much as a kid. I was just who I was. I knew I was a boy, I just didn't care at the time. Sorry, got off track. Anyway, with being a cis-woman, I would have to deal with the worry of getting pregnant (which kinda saddened me just a little when I realized I couldn't after I had come to terms with myself), and periods. Then again, I haven't completely started transitioning yet, still in therapy stage, so that opinion may change when I reach the obstacles.

That is a tough question.. can be answered in many ways.
I hate that I am transgender.. well hell yes... I have suffered for years. I hated it as a lonely helpless kid and I hate it now.

However, others love me for who I am and they dont know I am trans.. I am who I am.. I now for the first time accept myself so I don't hate being trans in a sense but I hate what It is going to do to others when I transition.

Another however, if you could flip a magic switch and change my brain to male... I would not let you flip the switch..I dont want to have a guy brain.. I was born female.
Ironic isn't it.
Carrie

I swear if someone offered me $500,000 to revert back to permanent male mode and to never show any clue of who I really am that I would never even consider that deal...not a chance!

Michelle,
Agreed, who wants to be who they are not...
Carrie