Quote from: Ms Grace on March 19, 2014, 02:16:18 PM
I suddenly feel a massive sense of dread. Every fear I had about this at the outset has suddenly loomed larger than life... "I look like every hateful '->-bleeped-<-' stereotype ever spewed forth by cis transphobic society"... "I'm ruining my life, it was pretty good as a dude, if not utterly miserable, and I'm upending it to be able to wear dresses in public??"... "I'm an idiot, a joke, a laughing stock"... "Waaaaaaaahhhh!!!"... etc, etc! Worst of all "this will be my life forever"... the wig, the bras, the body waxing/shaving, the clothes the presentation, the tucking, the painful but gorgeous shoes, worrying about how I look... oh god, this is the life of a woman and it will be every day of my life from Monday onwards.
EVERY. &@#%ING. DAY.
So yeah. Cold feet? They are blocks of ice the size of an Arctic ice sheet. I don't personally subscribe to the idea of "he" is fighting back. I don't see myself in terms of he/she just "me"...so I don't think that's what's going on. Maybe I'm just finally realising there's a massive world of difference between the occasional fun outing as Grace and the unrelenting grind of mundane everyday life as Grace. Yeesh.
I'm keen to hear from others who have passed the threshold into permanent full time (or, like me are approaching it). Last minute doubts? How were the first few weeks on the other side? What is the daily experience like?
Hi Grace, and congrats on taking the next step. It's not actually going to be that big, as I see you've really already done the heavy lifting. All you are doing is permanently adhering to society's expectations of how they perceive women. You have actually been full time your entire life.
First off, screw all the haters. There's nothing you can do about them. If they keep you from presenting yourself the way you see fit, then they win and you lose. They weren't going to be your friends anyway.
I'm guessing our situations are really like apples and oranges, but here's what happened with me.
When I went full time, it wasn't because I was told I needed to in order to get surgery at a set date or anything like that. It was because I wanted to know for sure if this was the way things should really be for me before I felt the need to tell the whole world. My therapist asked me one day why it was that I wasn't just Jill 24/7, and I didn't really have a good answer. The last day I went out as Greg, I felt quite oppressed, even in somewhat androgynous clothing and "guyliner". My perky nipples and mysteriously evaporating facial hair were about to give me away anyway, and I just felt ridiculous. It is a lot easier to adhere to society's expectations of a male physically, but mentally I'd finally had enough seeing myself in male garb. I mulled the full time option for a bit and figured that if for some reason I truly ever wanted to present male, I promised myself I would, and I could (thankfully) call the full transition off. I mean, why even go there if you don't absolutely have to? On some level, I really hoped I was truly an androgyne and could spare myself all of the hassle. So about a year ago, I finally ran out of sh%ts to give about what anyone thought, took the leap of faith and went full time, not knowing what would happen next. I'd only been out and about a few times as Jill, but what amazed me is that it was a complete non-event once I shed the mask once and for all. It turned out that when I thought about it, I was only ever presenting male because it was convenient to adhere to expectations, not because I wanted to. After less than a month of being full time, I decided to go full steam ahead with the transition and come out to the whole world pretty much all at once. I figured I'd lose a ton of friends and family, and I was prepared to let those chips fall where they may. It turned out that my fears were unfounded and that my people were overwhelmingly supportive. It took a few people some time to wrap their heads around it, but some really surprised me. The first call of support I got was actually from a conservative friend whom I most assumed would drop me like a hot brick. My parents were the last to come around, but they did. The only casualties from my coming out were a few ex-bandmates that didn't matter much to me anyway and a drunkle who is a recovering Jehovah's Witness and was persona non grata to my mother anyway.
What I felt after I shed the mask once and for all was an amazing sense of freedom and levity. The drab sturm-und-drang was gone forever, and I found myself happy, more sociable, friendly and outgoing. Doing certain things for the first time did make me a bit anxious, like going to concerts, ball games, taking public trans*portation, camping, using restrooms and even womens' showers. I got some funny looks once in a while early on, but so effing what. That stuff is all behind me now, and I just do everything any other woman does now without even thinking. It is so nice being accepted for who I truly am, and knowing that I get to live out my days being true to myself now makes me want to live as many days as I can. I no longer wish to hasten my expiration date, and that, perhaps, is the greatest benefit of my transition. Oh, and the cute boots.
Best wishes,
Jill
