My very first memory of my gender identity comes from when I was either 5 or 6. I remember having these grey cargo shorts, a white Mickey Mouse wife beater and boots. And though I never liked Mickey I loved the combination. I remember looking in the mirror and thinking to myself "I'm a boy and I look good", even though I had long hair and bangs (which I until I graduated high school). I wore that outfit for as long as possible and remember getting really depressed when my mom finally realized my boots were way too small for my feet (I wore them anyway) and through them out. It would be a long time before I wore boyish clothes again. Pretty soon after my sister (Holly) and I unknowingly befriended a pedophile. He never laid a hand on us and though he wore short shorts we never saw his junk (he played with himself under his jacket on a slide while talking to us at the park though). He taught us about the difference between boys and girls. This and saying good-bye to him when he moved are all I remember of him. Awfully enough though I ended up pantsing my brother while he slept to confirm the mans stories. I was very introverted and never asked questions or made comments to my parents. I would look at myself anytime my pants were off or down and now I knew "I don't have a penis". I was so horrified that I couldn't pee standing up that I tried to make a S.T.P. out of toilet paper. Then when that didn't work the empty roll itself. Neither worked of course. Though I decided I had to be a girl I was still a tomboy and throughout elementary school I mostly had guy friends. But for the most part I just loved insects, dirt and bikes. Even saving a bike designed to look like a motor cross bike from the trash of a neighbor. I'm not saying I didn't play dress up or barbies. I did and though I didn't like dresses as real clothes I didn't have as much of a problem wearing them to play make believe. To this day I love costumes and pretending I'm someone or something else. Me and my lesbian sister (Melissa) competed for the male role in barbies which didn't go over well. By the time elementry school was over so were many of my friendships. It seems by that time boys only hungout with boys and girls only hungout with girls. And I spent more time by myself looking for bugs and keeping them as pets or playing with our pet dog. Around this time too I had over stayed my welcome in the mans restroom. I'm actually pretty happy my dad didn't decide this on his own. It took a boy around my age complaining that I was a girl and shouldn't be in that restroom for my dad to stop escorting me when I need to use the toilet. I actually spent a lot of time with him on weekends. He would do carpentry work, making new items for around the house. I helped him out and got to learn about his tool collection. At this put I became contain in being nothing. Not a boy, not a girl just me.
Around 6th grade I was no longer content. A year of constant teasing from boys and girls at school made me decide to become my straight girly sister, Holly. It was easy to follow her footsteps. We weren't even a year apart in age, we'd always shared a room and we were always very close. Growing up she would play with the insects I kept and we rode bikes together. But she was still older than me and was becoming a woman. I tried to get clothes like she had, listened to her Backstreet Boys and N'Sync cd's and hung around with her and her friends. For the most part I was quiet, but I tried my hardest. I even tried having a boyfriend. It wasn't until I was in 8th grade I decided being a her wasn't working out for me. We also had seperet rooms at this point and I had made my own friends tried just being myself (aside from sexual preference). This is a point where I began feeling extremely worthless. And though I never told my friends at the time how I felt it was just good to know I had friends and that they liked having me around. I tried this for a few years. Being straight, having an androgynous personality (which is my normal) and being a girl. There's not too much to say here. 6th, 7th and 8th grade all seemed to have lasted longer than they really did. And though I had some fun I was pretty much just sad all the time. Actually at the end of 8th grade I befriended a group of children, 5-12 year old boys, in the courtyard I lived in. They found out I had Legos and a lightsaber. I kind of see this as my second childhood were I actually got to be a real boy. They didn't care that I wasn't like them and though they called me by female pronouns they never treated me like a girl. This is one of the happiest points in my life.
We moved from that housing area when I was ending freshman year. It was hard on because I felt that I had to put childish things away and readjust to having an "age appropriate peer group" of high schoolers... I did make some friends with the outcasts. My sister Holly and I actually shared friends and acquaintances in this group. I finally shared how I felt about myself to a couple of my own friends. "I don't feel like a girl it makes me think that life would be better as a blade of grass then I wouldn't know the difference".
Melissa had graduated and decided to come out of the closet. The family took it very well, in fact we all knew before. She started going to a LGBT group called youth quest. Soon I followed suit in my own way. I came out as Bisexual and actually started getting to know my oldest sister. I was still trying to be normal by having a boyfriend who was one of two real friends I had. While seeing him I started going to youth quest Melissa, hanging out with that group and actually went to a couple parties. Melissa had this friend that was a trans guy (I'll call him A later). I was intrigued. I ended up asking how he knew he was really trans. His response really struck a cord with me. He had also tried to be a girl, he never felt right. He tried girly, straight, normal (personality) bi and lesbian. He found out he liked girls, but didn't want to be one.
At this point I had gotten physical with my boy friend I knew I didn't like him like that. I shared a lot of thoughts with him though so, for some odd reason I decided to let him know I was questioning my sex. He didn't take that well, but my other friend was there and she ended up supporting me. We even dated, but that was weird too. But I had come to terms that I preferred women by this point. Only sharing it with my friend, Melissa and her girl friend. Melissa's girlfriend and I were also close and she knew before my sister how I felt about myself. She actually asked me if I'd like to try out male pronouns to which I said yes and I asked her to call me Xavier (that name didn't last). This is when my family found out that I was questioning, they didn't really care, but other than sending me to therapy didn't really support it yet. Well aside from Melissa. She like her girl friend was trying to see if I really knew what I was doing. She told me about how growing up as a lesbian she thought that being a boy would be easier. She never tried like me, but she didn't know if I was thinking it through. I told her that by talking to A about being trans and the process of passing and possible surgeries that I knew it was no easy path. Finally when I graduated a couple years later I let them know I was serious about being transgender. I told them to call me Ashton...However I then because a pronoun Nazi. I had tried every other road, I knew who I was and I'd be damned if you called me anything else. I'm 25 now and have been happy for years.

That was more of a life story than "I knew I was a" boy when story. But once I started I couldn't stop the beginning and when I met A didn't make enough since to tell on there own.

I didn't have any early clues that I am transsexual - I never wanted to play with dolls, or dress in girls clothes or anything like that. I was clearly a boy and boys just didn't do stuff like that in the early 60s. I did have a more girl friends than boy friends, until I got old enough that the "boys - ick!" factor kicked in for the girls LOL..... and then I was on my own.

My mother had a very difficult pregnancy with me and had a hysterectomy right after I was born. DES was commonly prescribed back then for difficult pregnancies and I'm quite sure that my mom took it. I think that DES had a lot to do with me being transgender. I got more clues about my DES exposure much later in life.

In the state I lived in it was possible to start a kid in first grade at 5 years old instead of the usual 6 years of age. For some reason my mother thought that doing that would be a capital idea. I was physically small, with a femme looking face, and I was both emotionally and physically a year behind the other boys. My mother could not have devised a better scenario for me to become a target on the playground, and indeed that was what happened.

I believe that I was very female back before 1st grade begin, but I had to quickly manufacture a boy persona to prop out in front of me to protect and hide who I was. I got very good at acting the boy part, since I remained physically small and femme looking and a year physically and emotionally behind the other boys.

My ONLY clue to what I would figure out many years later was that I didn't fit in with the guys. It was pervasive, and it continued all through my life. Testosterone had flooded my brain and masked the female feelings and inclinations. I got picked on and bullied and was mercilessly made fun of. I got very good at the art of avoiding getting into fights. A lot of times I knew that the guys wanted to fight so I would hang out in the library at school to avoid them.

As i grew into my pre-teen years I became a recluse. I stayed in my room and listened to music. We lived in an area that had woods and I would ride my motorcycle out there and shut it off and enjoy the peacefulness. I was also painfully shy; a cute teenage girl and her family moved in next to me and she came over one day to meet me and I couldn't even look at her much less have a conversation. I noticed her hair and her body and there was just.... something.... there besides the normal teenage boy lust that I couldn't identify. It's clear to me now that I wanted to be her.

Moving on to the high school years just brought more misery. I began to act out and I was quite the little terror, having several close brushes with the law, and drinking. The drinking would continue for 34 more years, and it would get a very hard edge on it later. We lived in an area with a lot of woods and the kids all had 4x4 pickups so it was common to head out to the woods or river bottoms with a keg and get loaded. I was right there with them. Drinking allowed me to fit in a little with the other kids and be cool.

I was also trying to man myself up - I got involved in several activities that were very dangerous, but boosted my man cred. Luckily I survived all of that.

I dated a few girls but I never knew what to do with them. My friends were making it all the way around the bases and I wasn't getting much past 1st base. I think that the girls figured out some of what was going on with me and moved on to other guys. I still had no clue what was wrong.

By the time I got to high school I was a total recluse. In my senior year I only needed .5 credits to graduate and I'd get that with senior english, so I disengaged entirely from everyone. I had 3 classes and I left school for work. My senior year was a non-event.

My family moved and I later managed to get myself into IT work. I self-taught myself enough to keep moving up the ladder. These were good years for me.

I met a girl and we clicked and got married. She is a sweetheart and even though she will not admit it now I think that she was attracted to me because of my femme personality. We got on extremely well, just like a couple of lesbians, talking endlessly and sharing our feelings.

We tried to start a family and nothing happened. After seeing some doctors they examined me and found some problems that are believed to be side effects of DES exposure. My sperm was thin and weak and it wasn't doing it's job. So we adopted two beautiful daughters, and I would not trade that for anything now.

A few years later I started a business with a group of alpha males. We had all worked together for years before, but when faced with running our own company I immediately clashed with them and again I felt that I didn't fit in with them. I needed to income so I put up with it for many years, but the clashes eventually led me to leave that company.

I volunteered for a habitat for humanity house build, and I got humiliated there as well by more alpha males because they thought that I didn't know what I was doing.

Humiliation from other guys was becoming the story of my lifeso I decided to try to find out exactly why I didn't fit it.  Luckily the internet had been invented by then, so the searches began.

I discovered some online gender tests and I took them all. They all said that I had mixed male/female thinking patterns. I know that these tests are not in any way a valid test of being transgender, but they did open up an concept that I had never considered before.

That concept began to unlock some of the pieces of my past - things began to click. I still had no clue, but I was about to become a classic late life transitioner since my testosterone level was dropping like a rock.

The first solid clue I had was that I suddenly wanted breasts. The thought became an obsession. I tried various ways to make that happen, and I eventually found a way that worked extremely well.

I joined Susans and some other online forums and began reading. A lot of things were now clicking into place. I thought that I could still handle things and still be the son/husband/father that everyone saw me as. I thought that I was genderfluid, and then androgyne, and later bigender.

Then I had some severe dysphoria episodes that convinced me otherwise. I knew that I needed to see a therapist, but I didn't have the time or the money. I started medicating myself with a low dose of DIY hormones to get by, and that lessened the dysphoria and let me live my boys life for a few more years. I did go out fully dressed en femme during this time and I got told my my bigender friends that I was with that night that "you pass better as a girl than you do as a guy". Hmmmm...... more clues. Being out en femme just felt normal to me.

Eventually the low dose stopped working. The dysphoria and the constant thoughts were making it hard for me to live. I had gotten myself to a point that I had time and money to see a therapist, so I made nervously made my first appointment, and went and sat on the couch and spilled my guts.

Within 5 sessions I knew the truth, and I knew that my old male life was a lie, and that big changes were coming my way. I accepted that I was transsexual.

I am working my way toward full time now with plans to flip the switch sometime early next year. My wife left me two weeks ago. I am out to one daughter with good results, and I'm outing myself to the other one next weekend.

My life has been totally upended by this; nothing remains the same and some days I lose my confidence and start second guessing what I've done. It hard, very hard, to live as your authentic self - it comes with a HUGE price tag. But I cannot got back to the boy life and the drinking again; the only way for me is forward from this point.

The more I think about my childhood the more I see that it was always just below the surface for me. I wanted to do what the guys were doing, wanted to dress in boy's clothes, wear the boy shoes, have the G.I. Joes and the Ninja Turtles and the skateboards and cool looking boy bicycles.. Later in life I sometimes had the passing thought that "I wish I were born male" and I never really thought more on it then just that.. I also related to guys better.

I didn't really know why I disliked my body, I guess I just thought that was a normal "girl thing". But it was more than just that and I know that now.

My realization came a few days after watching a youtuber's vlogs about his FTM transition. Like I somehow came across them and I just started watching.. and I didn't stop until I was out of video to watch on his channel. Then I had to digest it for a few days.. and do more reading on other people and their experiences and read medical stuff about it.. and in that few days I didn't know what to think I suddenly felt... that I needed to know more about ->-bleeped-<-..

Anyways the more I read and watched, and after watching Dade's videos (That's his name) and realizing how much I related to these men and women who have discovered themselves and knowing that I could do something about my, until that point, unkown dysphoria.. That I myself am transgender.

So I started small of course.. friends knew first and they were calling me he and him instead of. she and her (as I'm FTM).. the more I was referred to as male the better I felt and then I started wearing a chest binder and going by Kade.. It was just the confirmation for me.. Now I have my first transgender related doctor visit next week and I am both excited and nervous about it.

But that's my story and this has all happened in under a year so far. I uh... "found out" about myself just before March this year.

Eva Marie your post about girls dumping you happened to me so many times.I was dumped for not trying to get into my girlfriends pants so many times,it never occurred to me I was supposed to!

I'd say when I was in elementary school, there was this tomboy who I basically wanted to be. I had no idea what transgender or that being something other than your birth sex was possible, but she had everything I wanted. I drew a picture of "me" aka what I saw myself as. It was an androgynous person, very feminine. A few years later I googled if sex changes were possible, because I wanted one. I knew nothing of the trans world. This was around puberty when I realized this was possible, and I wanted breasts, but I saw it as so taboo so I never told anyone. I realized that I'm trans (learned the word, matched myself up with it) at age 19, soon after I started hormones.

Once again I offer an appreciative bow to every story shared in this thread. Some are so similar; some are so different; all are so affecting.

Reading these over the last weeks, I have found my body offering up memory after memory, feeling after feeling. It's like your stories have created a very safe and affirming place and finally, finally it has become okay for these things to arise. And arise they have, leaving me feeling as if I am sometimes swimming in a life I was barely aware of and certainly did not understand.

The discomfort I've felt in pants because of the bulge 'down there'. The euphoria of wearing a girlfriend's volleyball shorts. The confusion over being put with the 'boys' yet again. How I could never sleep on road trips because I was always roomed with these same 'boys'. The delight of listening to 'Hotel California' in the dark with a couple of girls - not because the music was good, but because the darkness dissolved my ability to see our differences. The yearning when puberty hit to go this way and not that. How I used to shave certain parts of my body back then in a vain attempt to stop the coming changes.   

On and on it comes. More and more - and then more again. I find myself exhausted and confused and grief-stricken. I want to go back to that kid and offer encouragement - no, better than this, an explanation where instead there was nothing. 'You're transgender,' I want to whisper. 'And you're not alone.'

But alone is how it felt pretty much all of the time. Even now I can feel the blush in my cheeks as I stand there in those volleyball shorts. My girlfriend and the friend also present are laughing because it's such a big joke - a 'guy' in a 'girl's' shorts! I force a grin and stuff way down deep the notable loosening throughout my body, the sense of rightness that is so rare and yet unmistakable. 'This is something to be ashamed of,' I understand. 'This is something to keep to myself.'

And I have, for the most part, done just this - been ashamed and kept these experiences secret even from myself. Until now, that is. When I find myself sitting before a flickering screen, utterly amazed that there are others out there. When I find myself writing about the 'pants thing' and 'Hotel California' and those horrible road trips for the first time ever.

OK - there is a few moments which really reinforced it for me... one was a school play, i was 7 yrs old, the writer was a woman who decided to make all the boys dress as girls and all the girls dress as boys.. i DIDN'T want to wear a dress/skirt because i was embarrassed as to how much my inner self wanted to grab and flaunt it (weird at that age).

Another when i was around the same age.. having some curious moments where i would sneak into the spare room of my house (where mum would keep all these disused dresses) i would secretly go into the cupboard where they were hanging, pretending to play hide and seek and standup while underneath them ~ i remember really enjoying the silky smooth feeling of them on my skin, it always gave me a smile, until i decided to put one on and go and stand in front of the mirror, i saw my face and body and knew then why i hated haircuts, why i was always wagging school and that something was dreadfully wrong and that i was different - that my uncomfortably within my own skin was NOT normal
at some point, i wanted to change my body to fit the curves.... it was a subconscious revelation...
also it feels weird to be writing this after all this time, the more i write the more i want to reveal and realize about myself -

Quote from: Jillian on November 15, 2013, 05:39:46 PM
Just this week in therapy I remembered something I hadn't thought about in probably 20+ years. I used to steal my mom's underwear out of her dresser and lock myself in the bathroom and try them on. I'd be so afraid of getting caught I'd make a mental note of exactly how they looked in the drawer, so when I put them back there was no evidence that they'd been removed. Wearing her underwear felt good but I never got into dressing fully. I remember staring at my girlfriend's clothes in her closet and wishing I could try them on, but hating myself for having such unacceptable desires. The few times I did try on women's clothes it didn't make me feel good at all. It just reinforced my hatred for my body, and left me feeling like a pervert.

omg...I did the EXACT same thing

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When I was about 5 or 6 I was at day camp at a community center/club, changing into my swimsuit in the boy's locker room. I remember looking around at all the naked boys and feeling so awkward! I can't really describe the feeling other than it just felt wrong. Like I was in the wrong place. Like I was invading their privacy or something. I knew in my head that I was a boy so this is where I'm supposed to change, but it just felt all wrong. Of course I knew I couldn't change in the girls locker room either, so it was just another taste of a feeling that would become very familiar as I grew up: feeling like I don't belong anywhere. Not with the boys, not with the girls. Always feeling different.

Again, I experienced the same thing.  I remember in Jr. High PE...I absolutely HATED it when I had to be in the shower room with the other guys. Same thing in HS PE. 

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I always struggled with the shame. Boys aren't supposed to want to be girls! Being a boy is better, so they tell us. Maybe not in so many words, but that's the message they send. At least that's the lesson I learned. So it wasn't until my early twenties that I finally admitted to myself that I really do want to be a girl. And it wasn't until age 37 that I finally told someone.

I can relate.  I'm really seeing a very common thread in our personal experiences here.  It's all starting to make sense now.

When did all this start? How do I start to explain this?   It  was 1963 and I was a 9 year old boy.  I was going to a Halloween party at my church.  Yeah, it was 1963, this was before people worried about Halloween being "satanic".  It was just a fun time of fellowship.  Anyway, my Mother suggested that I fool everyone and go as a witch.  I was sort of uncertain about the idea, but agreed.  Long story short, my Mother made me a black witch dress.  The outfit was completed with black stockings, witch hat, long black wig, etc.  The night of the party came and I put the outfit on for the first time.  I can't capably explain how that witch outfit made me feel, but it was almost like someone had flipped a light switch on inside me.  It made me feel unbelievable.  The dress flowing around my ankles, the long hair, the fake boobs, etc.   I don't remember anything at all about the party except wearing that costume.  I didn't know what had happened to me, but it was some kind of awakening for a 9 year old boy.

Now, the complex part...   How does wearing a Halloween costume initiate an awakening like this in the mind of a 9 year old boy?    Through the years, I developed an inexplicable desire to dress, and stole various items from my Mother to wear whenever I could in private.  I can't explain the urge, but I felt like it was something I was compelled to do.  I can also distinctly recall stealing panties and pantyhose and other items from a store at various times.  I  also remember buying my very own female clothes when I was 16 and got my driver's license.  This was the thing I was most excited about when I got a car. I could now sneak off and buy my very own female clothes. My very first purchase was a dress from Zayre, a discount store at that point in time.  I was scared to death when I bought it, but rushed home to try it on.  I'll never forget that.  Dresses, tops, skirts, shoes, etc, I was slowly acquiring my own little wardrobe and I had a perfect hiding place, even though I was still living at home.  I became an expert at stealth dressing, and I never once got caught.

Depression, shame, guilt, self loathing.  Yes...I made very intimate acquaintance with these terms thru the years.     My escape was music.  I learned to play drums in Jr. High band and that turned into a lifelong career for me.  It's been a blessing and a curse. A curse because I grew up in the 60's-70's when LOUDER was better. Nobody thought about hearing protection back then. I can't tell you how many nights I spent playing in or listening to LOUD rock bands.  I now have Tinnitus in my left ear, which developed into Meniere's Disease, which I'm on disability for.  My experience with Meniere's is a whole different story I won't go into right now.  But in retrospect, I realize all the loud rock music was an escape to try and drown out what was going on inside my head.  Another escape for me was food.  I've been large all my life.  I still struggle with my weight, another long story.  In my 20's I also drank very heavily.  I remember one time I chugged a fifth of Jack Daniels on a dare.  I almost died.  A veiled suicide attempt? Yet another long story. 

Fast forward to 2005.  I had never told anyone about my crossdressing revelation when I was 9 years old.  It was all locked away in a sealed vault inside my head. The mental baggage had definitely taken a toll on me during all these years.  I decided I needed to tell my story to a therapist and see if that would help me find some answers. I saw a therapist and shared my story, and he advised me that it would be good if I shared it with my Mother.  I'd never done this, and it wasn't going to be easy for me.   One day I finally got up the nerve to call my Mother and talk to her.  Well...she said this was sick and perverse and I should be ashamed. Try to imagine how this made me feel after keeping this bottled up inside all those years.  Long story, but I'd never really been close to my Mother.  My Mother died in 2008 from pancreatic cancer.  I didn't even want to go to her funeral, but I went. 

My complete experience with dressing is hard to for me to describe.  I felt inexplicably compelled to do it, but also felt a mountain of guilt, shame, self-loathing, and mental anguish when I did it.  Normal guys aren't supposed to want to wear female clothing. I felt like a freak and a pervert.  What was I thinking? What the hell was wrong with me?  Yes, I've purged my clothing stash countless times through the years.    Five years ago, I'd basically given up, and felt like a complete fool when I thought about dressing.  I desperately wanted to, but I never did feel like I made a passable woman. I was a fat man in a dress. The image I saw in the mirror didn't match up with what I saw in my head and felt in my heart.

Fast forward to one month ago.  Thoughts of suicide...a bright neon light was flashing in my brain..."Game Over! Time To Get REAL"!!! It was different this time, I knew I couldn't bury it any longer or I'd be buried.  I joined this forum shortly after that.  I have my first appointment with a highly recommended GT in four days.  Yes, I'm scared to death.  I know the flood gates are going to burst forth, and I hate crying in front of people.   I think I already know in my heart what I'm going to hear.  It will be a relief, but starting this journey at age 59 will be very scary.  I know this was long and I hope I didn't ramble too much.  Hugs...    J

Quote from: JordanBlue on November 29, 2013, 12:01:01 PM
omg...I did the EXACT same thingAgain, I experienced the same thing.  I remember in Jr. High PE...I absolutely HATED it when I had to be in the shower room with the other guys. Same thing in HS PE.  I can relate.  I'm really seeing a very common thread in our personal experiences here.  It's all starting to make sense now.

Same here too . Hate of the changing room, unable to take shower with boys. Borrowing underwear and putting it back exactly as it was before... There was one padded bra, which was my favourite too... sigh...

Quote from: JordanBlue on November 29, 2013, 01:01:27 PM
But in retrospect, I realize all the loud rock music was an escape to try and drown out what was going on inside my head.  Another escape for me was food.  I've been large all my life.  I still struggle with my weight, another long story.  In my 20's I also drank very heavily.  I remember one time I chugged a fifth of Jack Daniels on a dare.  I almost died.  A veiled suicide attempt? Yet another long story.

Wow - a powerful post for me, Jordan. Especially the above. It makes me ask, 'How did I try to escape?' Put another way, how did I try to cope? Like you, I had many strategies that, while keeping me alive yet one more day, also damn near killed me on so many levels.

I suspect many of us have similar tales to tell... So I just started another thread entitled, 'How Did You Cope?'

Many thanks for the provocation. And for sharing - you certainly did not ramble too much!

Well i knew something was up when i was very young, probably 4 or so. My sister used to like to dress me and my brothers up as girls and while they protested, i rejoiced! They found it odd so i did too. I didnt know for sure till that fateful Thursday evening in 2003 when i saw a show called "Super Surgery: Gender Swap" on Discovery Health. It followed two transwomen, one young and one older. I knew right then and there what was going on in my mind. From then on anytime i was on the internet i would research as much as possible on the topic. Ive become a bit of a guru on the subject of "gender variance." 

I haven't shared the whole story before, might as well at least try to do some of it now.

I've done a lot of looking back over the past few months since being on HRT, and I don't know the answer still.  I remember as a kid not understanding why my cousin got to be called a girl and I didn't.  My grandparents showered her with affection, but my brothers and I got "meh" most of the time (it wasn't really us kids, it was my grandma's favoritism towards her dad over all the other siblings, it just ended up filtering down to the grandkids).  My cousin and I were close, and house was a favorite of ours to play.  Me, being the totally passive one, always played the dad, but I was jealous all the time.

I probably had an inkling back then... but I learned really quick that it was out of bounds.  My dad's youngest brother (my dad was the oldest of six) was effeminately gay, and dad wasn't very fond of that.  I really liked him though, had a good time around him.  He ended up dying of AIDS in the mid-80's, and I remember the near total isolation he received once it was known he was dealing with that disease.  He was marginalized before then, and isolated after.  It pretty much told me that being different was not kosher.

I was a quiet kid... never had friends and had to be forced outside.  I didn't know how to socialize (still don't... I'm still amazed how much I've opened up over the past couple of months) so I kept my nose in the books.  I knew I was different... I preferred crochet and cross-stitch to playing football and that never went over well with dad.  Don't get me wrong, I love my dad and think the world of him.  He was no-nonsense and hard on us at times, but he was doing what he thought was best for us.  Maybe a bit close minded about things, but it was how he was brought up and I can't fault him for that.

School was a chore.  I lived in the shadows, the nerd and loner nobody understood.  I was super helpful with homework and all things school-related, but when it became about just being social I would clam up and run away.  I didn't fit in, I knew it, and so did everyone else.  I used that to my advantage though.  Bullies only picked on me one time.  EVERYONE came to me for school help... once bullies realized that my help seemed to be wrong and they started getting zeros after picking on me, it was like I had purchased an invisible force field of protection.  And so it was through school... I was the computer they came to for help, then left alone when social life was calling.  I was flat out jealous of the girls, and I didn't know why.

On to college, the perennial nerd that had every chance in the world in front of him.  I walked that college campus the first few days every semester, the distant observer watching everyone and everything around me, but involved in nothing.  I saw the guys and knew I was not like them.  I saw the girls and knew I was not one of them.  Here I was, smartest kid on the planet, and I couldn't figure this one simple thing out.  It ate at me then, knowing I wanted to be like the girls but never would be and not understanding what those thoughts really meant.  And I feared the wrath of the professors... what would they think if I missed a class?  Inevitably, I would be distracted by my thoughts and miss one.  I would never go back to my class after missing one.  Needless to say I flunked out.  Smart as could be but no social ability or understanding whatsoever.

I met a girl, lost my virginity, and we got married (another weird, long story for another time, perhaps).  That's what guys are supposed to do, right?  Get married, make a family, go to work and support them?  I got my oldest son from her, and that was it.  She left me when he was one, and I convinced her that she wouldn't be able to take care of our son alone, so she left him with me and all but disappeared from the planet.  Now I was a single parent, and it occupied my brain for a long time.  I didn't allow myself time to dwell on my little "problem".  After divorce , I met my second wife.  That's what guys are supposed to do, right?  Get married, make a family, go to work and support them? It was all I knew: do what you're supposed to do.  Be a man (STILL don't know what that means) and be responsible.  I think it was about midway through that marriage that I figured out I was gender dysphoric.  But as fate would be so cruel, she got diagnosed with breast cancer and I spent the next four years of my life being caregiver, student at the local community college, and breadwinner.  That's what guys are supposed to do, right?

She passed, leaving me with three kids now.  I knew what my problem was, and I knew what would happen if I told anyone, so I did what any guy would do.  I found a girl I really loved with kids of her own and I got married.  Be responsible, take care of the family, my feelings aren't important... guys aren't supposed to have feelings.  ENOUGH!!!  I couldn't take it anymore.  I was more than mostly dead inside.  I had been through too much, too many suicidal thoughts and plans, to keep going like this.  I told my wife, she was (impressively) supportive and wanted me to deal with it, so we've started dealing with it together.

My lord, I could probably keep typing forever.  So much I left out LOL.  HRT makes you a chatterbox!  For those of you that made it to this point I should probably roll credits and all

The End

-hugs to all-

Quote from: Tanya W on November 30, 2013, 01:07:11 AM
Wow - a powerful post for me, Jordan. Especially the above. It makes me ask, 'How did I try to escape?' Put another way, how did I try to cope? Like you, I had many strategies that, while keeping me alive yet one more day, also damn near killed me on so many levels.

I suspect many of us have similar tales to tell... So I just started another thread entitled, 'How Did You Cope?'

Many thanks for the provocation. And for sharing - you certainly did not ramble too much!

Thanks, Tanya, I appreciate your comments.  There are many other times I did incredibly stupid things, such as slamming a brand new 1973 Ford Maverick into a tree and totalling it. Another attempt to try and drown out the noise in my head? I now look back and wonder if it was because I just didn't care if I lived or not?

I knew I was a boy around maybe 4 or 5. I've always got along more with boys than girls because I was a tomboy. I'd rather play with action figures than Barbie dolls and I'd NEVER wear a dress or skirt unless I was forced to. My mom really doesn't have a problem with me getting boys clothes when we go to the store but she still buys me girls clothes when it's just her out shopping for me and it's pretty awkward. She doesn't know I'm trans yet and I'm pretty scared to tell her..

Well anyways.. when I was younger I guess I had a lot of penis envy. I don't remember the first time I'd ever seen a boy naked but for some reason I was fascinated by it and I wanted a penis. I do remember seeing one of my guy friends peeing standing up and taking off their shirts during the summer and I wished I could do that. I was sorta obsessed with wanting to have a penis back then and I asked my cousin, Nathan once to pull down his pants and underwear so I could see which ended up with him running away and telling his mom I asked to see his 'pee-pee'. Then, my aunt had to give me a talk about boys and girls having different body parts and that I was a girl and was different from boys and I shouldn't ask to see boys parts anymore. I was so sad that I couldn't have a penis and used to pray that I'd wake up as a boy.  I ended up imagining myself as a guy during a lot of my childhood and I would always play the dad or son whenever I played house with friends.

The first time I heard about transgender was when I was about 11. I think I searched something like "how to be a boy" on the internet and I found out that I could have a sex change when I'm older. I considered the idea and thought about telling my mom how I felt but I forgot about it. I did go through a little goth phase I guess you could say. I didn't know how to tell my mom my feelings. When I imagined myself as a man I wanted to be a muscular guy with tattoos so I thought of wearing makeup and having tattoos as a goth girl.. but I got over that quickly.

Now, I'm older and I started researching transgender again during the summer (and still am) and  I started consider myself a trans-guy. I got my hair cut short and I'm wearing guys clothes all the time. Like I said, I'm still in the closet though. I plan on telling them soon at the right time.