Just wanted to write a quick message to let people know that no matter what you think starting out - before coming out to family and friends, before therapy, before HRT and laser and god knows what else - no matter what you think about how miserable this process will be and how everyone will hate you and you'll lose everything in your entire life, it doesn't have to be that way.

Without going into too much detail, my family has been cool with this process so far (including my spouse), work has been amazing and bent over backwards to accommodate me, I'm getting the treatment I need (mental, medical and cosmetic), and it's not breaking the bank.  Life's not perfect by any means, but it's so much better than life was before, especially considering I was someone who entered into this process with so much negativity and such low expectations.

There are some really good people out there, many of whom surprise you at how awesome and supportive they can be, and you'll have many good days when everything is working out better than you can possibly have hoped.  I know we read so many stories of how families are dragged apart, parents reject their own kids, medical care isn't available or is too expensive, and that it's a journey filled with pain and misery and sadness.  I wanted to let anyone out there know that it doesn't have to be like that.  It can work out beyond your wildest expectations.

Sorry - not a very substantive post, but things are going well for me right now, and I wanted to provide a little encouragement for anyone teetering on the edge and holding back because they think that taking the leap will lead to some dark times.  There's plenty of us who are finding this process filled with hope and happiness.

My thoughts are with those who are struggling right now too, because I know that for some it's a ride rougher than I can possibly imagine.  But the happy stories, I think, deserve their time in the spotlight also. 

Thanks for all your help through this so far.  I wouldn't be here without the great people on this site!

Nice post Brenda.

As I said in another post "Fame but no fortune" I have been stopped in the street by total strangers openly supporting trans*people.

There is hope, there is acceptance.

And this morning I head off for a manicure and to get my hair done. Life can be great. Live it!!

Yeah, thanks for this, Brenda.

You've got to be the first person who I've seen (or at least noticed) saying it isn't breaking the bank, though. But if you don't even have a bank to break? It's going to be a battle just getting things started.

It's going to keep being a fight, tooth and nail, for what seems like several years before even approaching the finish line. And I'm already so tired, way before I ever began this struggle. It's like I've spent my entire life as an old pack horse, never relieved of its burden even when all it wants to do is sleep. Finally there's a way out, except to do it you've got to run a marathon through the jungle. Not up for running? Well, this baggage isn't going anywhere, horse.

Throw into this witch's cauldron of feelings... never having a family, never having my own kids or a spouse to hold, and yeah, the stew looks rather bittersweet at best. And those are just the BIG ones, there's so many more little things in this recipe.

I'm not actually just trying to come up with a lot of negative things, here. It's all so I can more accurately describe the choice I feel is before me.

Because on this stage that is my life, the character I'm trying to play really isn't all bad. He could go places, do things, and succeed at a lot, if I really want him to. He's a good character, and I'm a good actress. Sometimes we even actually like each other, actress and character. I really could pull it off if the actress didn't feel like she needed to steal the spotlight all the time. I could carry my bags on that slow, easier, and much more well-taken path. Maybe even find another person to take the road with me.

But that inner actress will then always be just-off stage, glaring into the limelight from her place in the shadows, resenting me for every minute of this play. So do we let her steal the show? The cost of doing so might be too high, in more ways than one. Just as may be the cost of not doing so. Do we want the comfort and darkness of familiarity, or the chance to be genuine, with the actual joy that being genuine might bring.

And is that happiness even enough, in the end? We'll see. It's such a huge price to pay for such a little thing. But I'll try the stew.

Thanks, Cindy.  That means a lot coming from you.

Jera, I'm at work right now and typing on my phone.  I'll respond to your post in this thread properly when I get in front of a real keyboard - it deserves more than a rushed reply from me.  Some really interesting thoughts in there.

Ok Jera, I have a few minutes.

I thought about the money thing a lot today.  For the transition I've been pursuing right now, which is the medical side only (therapy, hormones, nothing else), it's cheap.  But were I actually trying to make myself passable in real life 24/7, it gets frighteningly expensive with the clothing and all the other accoutrements of femininity.  On further consideration, actually transitioning would break my bank.  Ugh.

But really what had me thinking was this:

Quote from: Jera on September 12, 2014, 02:37:46 AMBecause on this stage that is my life, the character I'm trying to play really isn't all bad. He could go places, do things, and succeed at a lot, if I really want him to. He's a good character, and I'm a good actress. Sometimes we even actually like each other, actress and character. I really could pull it off if the actress didn't feel like she needed to steal the spotlight all the time. I could carry my bags on that slow, easier, and much more well-taken path. Maybe even find another person to take the road with me.

But that inner actress will then always be just-off stage, glaring into the limelight from her place in the shadows, resenting me for every minute of this play. So do we let her steal the show? The cost of doing so might be too high, in more ways than one. Just as may be the cost of not doing so. Do we want the comfort and darkness of familiarity, or the chance to be genuine, with the actual joy that being genuine might bring.

That summed up our dilemma exactly.  The male me was not doing too badly.  He was a guy that many guys would consider fairly successful, stable, reasonably handsome, having a good family etc.  But there was always the feminine side of me waiting in the wings and I'd feel nothing but her resentment, so strong that it would sour any sense of happiness or satisfaction the male me ever achieved.

It's not that I hated him or that there was anything to particularly dislike about him other than the simple fact that he wasn't her.  And it still feels like a shame that this guy that I and many others put so much time and effort into creating is going to waste, replaced by a strange female with far less opportunity, talent, and charisma.  But he's also happy - scared, but happy - to step aside and let that less-talented feminine me take the lead in my life.  So far, so good, but this show hasn't even had a dress rehearsal yet, let alone opened to the public.  Could be a total flop...

That balance of two people vying for one part was such an apt description of what many of us are going through, and you put it so succinctly.  And it's absolutely a risk either way, whether we transition or not, but leaving the theater at the end of the show, I think I'll have enjoyed the offbeat performance by her rather than the polished performance by him.

If the results of your transition are half as beautiful as your writing, Jera, you'll be absolutely wonderful.

For awhile I think many of us have a 'dual personality' not in a clinical way of a split personality but knowing both, and the new girl is frightened and timid. She needs her past 'him' to help carry the load and then gradually for many of us, but not all, he fades into a memory. I can still recall him, but he has gone from my everyday life. He was very brave and tried so hard to be 'a man' but he wasn't. I remember coming home one evening from the hairdresser, keen to see my new style. I looked excitedly in the mirror, flicking my head and feeling wonderful as my hair moved, admiring the new colour. Trying a few silly poses and basking in my look and feeling.

I looked away and realised that he had gone. I was me, Cindy and I was responsible for myself. It was my journey now and not his. It was my ambition, my desires, my life. I owed him nothing but gratitude for keeping me safe. The slate was clean again, I wasn't the struggling drunk, the fearful man whose terrible secret could be revealed any second ruining his tragic life. I was and I am Cindy, I can do what I want without fear, without hiding. I can never be in stealth and I absolutely don't care.

Stealth means hiding, and I will never hide again, Cindy has no need too.

Without being melodramatic, I thought of the opening and the end of Charles Dickens', Tale of Two Cities.

The Beginning: It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. And I knew that for me it was now the best of times.

The End: to paraphrase. 'Greater love hath no man than to lay down his life for herself'.

Go meet your new life and bask in it.

Thank you so much for taking the time to respond. I really just tried to write those feelings to process them, but it means so much to me just that the feelings I wrote can be understood, and it helps a lot to know I'm not the only one facing that choice in a similar way.

This thread is doing a lot to help dispel some of my doubts, and it is always good to know that there is hope. I can only hope I'm making the right choice.

A very good post Brenda.

My own experience has not been nearly as dire as I was led to believe it would be. An example of stuff that I read when I was contemplating what my future was holding (and which scared the crap out of me)  is the the article "So you want to be a t-girl?" : http://tgchatroom.com/wiki/index.php/So_You_Want_To_Be_a_T-Girl_%28Chapter_1%29 (possible trigger warning).

I told the people at work and I show up for work as Eva next Wednesday. I told my family. I have started telling close friends and acquaintances. I told my professors at college. So far, my score is:

Divorced:                        Yes, but knowing my ex well this was to be expected
Lost Children:                 No
Lost parents:                  Jury is still out on this one but at least we are still talking about it
Lost Job:                         No
Lost friends:                    Very few
Working as a prostitute: No
Destitute:                        No
Gained or lost friends:     Many, many more friends now
Experienced bigotry:        No
Got respect for what I am doing: Yes!!!!

There have been some real surprises too - you do find out who your friends are when you go through this. I have a very close friend that i've known for years, we have hoisted many beers together and we have worked on a several year car restoration project together. He is also staunchly religious, and I know that he has some especially strong beliefs about gay people so i didn't have much hope of keeping him as a friend after I came out to him. That letter had to be sent, so I sent it. He responded positively - he understands what I went through, and he is still a friend. Amazing.

With the good comes the bad - A few other people that I was sure would remain friends deserted me. So be it.

I know that for some people the road they experience is different than my road so I don't want to claim this will be everyone's experience.  But like Brenda I think it is important to tell the good stories if we are going to tell the not so good stories.

I love the positivity in this thread.