I remember thinking something like, "Oh well I was born a boy I'll just have to be a boy," between the ages of 5 and 7 years old. That would've been between 1974 and 1976. Around the age of 12 is when I used to wish and pray that I'd get a bizarre disease where the only life saving option would've been a sex change. That would've been in 1981.
No YouTube. No Susans. No Carla's Boutique in San Jose. I was so ignorant I didn't even know which questions to ask.
If I hadn't gotten married at 19 and had gone to college instead, I would've been exposed to more than what I'd seen so far in 13 years of Catholic school. It's possible I would've started transition a long time ago. But I had a family to provide for: I'm 19.5 years older than my son, and about 22 years older than my daughter. For me, transition was delayed because as a parent I felt that what I wanted for my life just didn't matter compared to what my kids needed.
I began transition when my youngest was 18.
5 June 2013 will be 2 years HRT for me. Sure, I wish the results were faster as I still don't quite have A-cup breasts. But things are happening, even if they are happening slowly. I've encountered articles that imply starting sooner is better and that it doesn't matter how long one's body has been poisoned by testosterone. I guess it really just depends on the individual.