I've had to abort transition twice.
The first time I started transition was shortly after I was diagnosed as a type 6 transsexual - someone for whom transition is a matter of life or death.
At the time of diagnosis, I weighed over 275 lbs (closer to 280). When I started RLE, I had 8 years clean and sober and was going to a lot of 12 step meetings. As Debbie, I started going to dances and other social events. Before long I was being asked to sponsor more people at once than I had sponsored in the previous 8 years combined. Once people got to know the REAL ME, they really LIKED her.
It took less than a year to lose over 100 lbs, and I was soon wearing size 16. I was healthy, happy, and loving my life. I also had a girlfriend who was bi and invited a couple of her girlfriends to live with us. Work was amazing, and even though I wasn't dressing at work, I didn't try to hide my feminine side. It came through easily. I also wore feminine shoes and women's pants because they fit so much better (I have a large butt). They knew I was trassexual and planned to transition, and they were actually supportive, many of the executives were women and they liked that i didn't have a fragile male ego that bruised easily.
My therapist had green-lighted me for HRT after I did electrolysis (laser was not available back then).
Then my ex-wife showed me a letter. It was from a school therapist, stating that my visitations were detrimental to the kids and recommended that my visitation be revoked or at least supervised. My ex explained that if I did not stop transition, she would deliver that letter to a sympathetic (fundamentalist Christian) judge who would probably also add a restraining order.
Of course, I would still be required to give her half my after tax income PLUS day-care expenses (even though the kids were being caref for by her new husband). Aborting the transition was terrible. My life started unraveling in some nasty ways. The child support was crushing me financially. The girls left, I had to move into a cheaper apartment. I started gaining weight, by blood pressure was soaring, and I quit my job to go into consulting.
I took on a project to make the internet available commercially (no I did not invent the internet).
I moved to NY for a consulting gig that would get my debts paid off and give me some breathing room on child support. I also started dressing and started exploring transition again. When that engagement ended, I decided to do work in NJ, where I began to establish myself as a leader.
I was invited into a leadership training program where I would eventually be speaking to large groups on a regular basis. There was one condition. I had to "Burn the dresses". Eventually, they asked me "Can you be Debbie in the Suit?". Debbie completely shattered all records in terms of performance and measures, But when speaking to groups I came across as deceptive and inauthentic. I finally dropped out of the program, but only after gaining almost 75 lbs.
Overweight, I began to feel too fat to go out as Debbie. Eventually, I gained another 100+ pounds, peaking out at 330 before having a heart attack. I'd felt like I couldn't transition, and I'd lost the will to live. Fortunately I survived anyway.
I began to realize that if I wanted my health back, I had to bring Debbie back. I put a profile on
Match.com with pictures of Rex and pictures of Debbie. Sadly I used Rex as the cover photo. When I got a response back saying "Dude, you're wearing a dress, what's that about", i sent back a full response, explaining that I was transsexual and had aborted transition a while back but wanted someone who could accept and love Debbie as much as Rex.
It turned out that she liked Debbie even BETTER than Rex, and we ended up getting married. She did tell me that I would not be wearing a gown. :-( Still, it was the beginning of a wonderful relationship and there was lots of love for ME, Debbie, and she began to understand that "Rex" was more like a mask I wore, a "clown", a "nerd", and a "Chameleon" who could fit in with almost any group, even though we had nothing in common. I still didn't transition and eventually I had a stroke that took out the left side of my body. I rejected any pain killers and learned to do everything all over again, including writing, walking, and eating with my left hand. Only a neurologist could tell that i'd ever had a stroke now. I still struggle with simple computations like calculating a tip.
Just before my dad died, I went to see him and he told me "If i can't give you anything else, I want you to be yourself, even if that's Debbie". For the rest of his life Debbie was at his bedside, taking wonderful care of him. Just before the end he even thought I was my mother coming to take him home.
After that, I started seeing a gender therapist again, and started transition again. There was a point when my wife realized I was taking hormones, and said "I'm not OK with you transitioning". I stopped everything, therapist, hormones, diet, and RLE. About a month later I told my doctor I had mixed a Prestone Cocktail (antifreeze and Gatorade) and had decided not to drink it. I spent about 6 hours locked up in the psych ward (checking my blood work to make sure I hadn't actually TAKEN the cocktail). I agreed to go back to gender therapy, my wife became more supportive but asked me to take it slow and NOT do SRS, at least until we could be certain that it wouldn't nullify our marriage.
It took longer, but I did return to HRT, taking low doses to allow a gradual transition. Eventually I started working as "Rexxie" and this Thanksgiving Debbie came to dinner to meet the family. They were so pleased with Debbie that she got ALL the Christmas presents. Which was so perfect that I cried tears of joy when they asked if it was OK that Rex didn't get anything. It was PERFECT!
I've lost a LOT of weight, but still have a ways to go (Size 18), and I'm happier and healthier than I've ever been before. My blood pressure is much better and my bloodwork is better than it's been in decades. When people hear me mention my approximate age (a girl never tells her real age), they are often shocked, because I look at least 10-18 years younger.
Knowing what I know now, I wish I had transitioned 40 years ago, but that information was not available then. Thank goodness for sights like Susan's that allow us to share and benefit from the experiences of others who have been down this path.
