Finally waking up and then transitioning at 38 was an experience I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy, - that's if I actually had one which I don't. For a long time I'd had this itchy feeling that somehow I'd been given the wrong script for the play, but I guess I thought if I boxed on and ad-libbed for long enough perhaps everything would come right.
I married mostly because my long time friends were doing it and having children which awakened the old ache inside myself that I wanted children too. I mentioned in my introduction that I used to daydream about being pregnant when I was in my early teens, but never got so far as joining the dots and realising what that might mean. I was born with un-descended testicles and ended up having to have surgery when I was thirteen to sort that out. As a child I was completely innocent of any notion of sex and gender apart from knowing that boys were rougher and were likely to give me a hiding if I offended them in some way. It still annoys me a lot that nobody including my parents ever explained to me what the surgery was about especially when it was all so painful and uncomfortable. In the aftermath of surgery I knew I didn't like the fact that my scrotum now had two somethings in it, - not that I really knew what they did or what they were for back then.
In a way I suppose I was lucky to end up with two wonderful children because later when I had my orchi the surgeon told me that one of the things was plainly in a non-functional condition.
Marriage was a mess. My wife had bipolar disorder which I didn't realise until after we were married. I just thought she was a little eccentric which was Ok because I was a little eccentric too I suppose back then. My wife's constant complaint was that I was like having a flatmate and not a husband. Performing in bed was hopeless, I either couldn't get an erection at all or else I'd get premature ej. Cuddling was always nice, but sex was something I came to dread.
And increasingly my wife was having bipolar episodes and during these times she inflicted the most terrible verbal abuse on me, her illness seeming to give her insights into all my most vulnerable spots. And when she was 'mad' she would also hound me for sex and then abuse me when I couldn't perform. My wife had no insight at all into her illness and still doesn't all these years later. It was impossible to get her take her meds and she would secretly flush them down the toilet.
One day while she was in full flight with yelling abuse at me I punched her and knocked her down. I was working as a truck and bus mechanic back then so my punch was not a light one - I still feel deeply ashamed about that.
Something else I'm ashamed about is that I had sex with other women during my marriage, - and this is something I've told no one about until now. I guess I wanted to know if I was only hopeless as a lover with my wife, or was it something about me. I still was rubbish at penetrative sex, but I was told by these other women that I was kind and gentle.
Then the day came when I looked in the mirror one morning and I just knew with complete certainty that I was a woman. After I came out to my wife hell took on a different form in which she couldn't stand being around me anymore, then in a blink of an eye she would want me to stay with her and make our marriage work. To cut a long story short we eventually parted and I refused to take my share of the house and property we owned because I refused to put my children out of their home.
My first two years as a woman, - and I did start to live as a woman right from the moment of my awakening, - were not good, though my very excellent doctor put me on HRT right away. My brothers instantly rejected me. I was homeless for a time, I was raped, insulted regularly, pelted with stones etc etc. Being raped was awful as you can well imagine, but because HRT had changed my muscle mass and strength from what it had been I was unable to adequately defend myself. That came as a shock I can tell you. For a long time afterwards just catching a whiff of male sweat would bring on a panic attack.
What got me through that though was the fact that I have son who I love very much, so I found it impossible to maintain any kind of hatred towards men. In case you're wondering I am attracted to women and not men as sexual partners, though these days I live under a solemn promise of Chasity.
After I was raped I went home to my Mum (my Dad had died 16 years earlier) and she took me in. I was a total wreck back then and I know she was frightened that I was going to top myself, but little by little I got back on my feet again. Eventually I went back to school and studied to become a social worker. That wasn't an easy ride at all at first because I was fighting an addiction to Benzodiazepines at the same time.
I also had the not very nice experience of men following after me while I was walking home jingling coins in their pockets. One persistent male who followed me at walking pace in his car trying to badger me into having sex with him I reported to the Police. I explained that I was trying to turn my life around and was studying to be a social worker and the policewoman I spoke to very firmly promised me that they'd sort him out for me. And they did too, they called on him at home and told him to leave me alone or else! That was definitely a good moment.
I was able to find a temporary position with an NGO working in disability employment once I was qualified and when a permanent position was advertised I applied for that and was successful. When they told me I had the job I just sat down and wept because I was so overwhelmed. One of the other staff told me, 'Don't worry Annie, I sometimes weep when I think about going to work too,' and I had to laugh then.
It was while I had that job I developed severe inflammation of my testicles due to HRT (I was on Premarin and Spiro) and at first my doctors were worried I might have a tumor. The pain got so bad I had to take leave from work, but fortunately the urologist I consulted was able to confirm it was inflammation and not anything worse. I asked him on the spot if he could do an orchi for me and he agreed. After surgery my (male) doctor at the time asked me if I was sure I'd done the right thing and I responded at once, 'It's wonderful, it's an operation I'd recommend to anyone,' which caused him to look somewhat uncomfortable indeed.
The fly in the ointment though was that I came down with a terrible case of the 'flu after surgery because I was so run down after all the months of pain. Somehow this caused a viral infection of my nervous system which led to me developing CFS/ME. I still have problems with CFS/ME even after all these years, but I've learned to live with it.
While I was working towards returning to work I was head hunted by the adult mental health service in my area because I'd worked with them in the past while with the NGO and some of their staff I'd previously worked with put my name forward. At first I was only working part time, but gradually worked up to full time hours. What amazed me was how shocked some people were when they found out I was going to work in mental health. We're not the only minority that has to live with prejudice from others unfortunately (sigh).
I stayed with the mental health service until I retired. I would have stayed longer because I loved my job, but I was starting to have health issues again and there was a right mess happening in the service with funding cuts and staff layoffs so I was better off out of it. I can say that now, though at the time I was upset about giving up my job even though my doctor told me that it was the best thing to do since I wasn't well.
So here I am living in a little country town and life is good. Thinking I was all washed up as a social worker I started to think about joining the croquet club or something, BUT then I started to feel the call in my heart that would eventually draw me into religious life. As I mentioned somewhere else on the forum I never made any disclosures or asked anybodies permission I just followed the urge in my heart. Mind you being a third order Sister is not quite so much of a thing to get into as compared to going first order, but I still live with the risk that somebody might out me someday. I did eventually tell the priest we had in the parish at the time, but he was quite a rare individual and said that he couldn't care less. He's moved on now which is a pity.
Something that did happen which completely caught me off guard was when a woman around my own age from church tried to snog me. A very firm 'No' and a reminder that I held my promise of Chasity very seriously saw her off, but that was the last thing I ever thought was going to happen to me!
One last trial remained for me and that's my daughter identifies as a 'demi-girl' and has to be on HRT because her own Testosterone is toxic to her. Don't worry I don't have any sort of problem with that, but she had her own heavy crosses to bear in life and was very ill with PTSD for a long time. She lives with me and I've been caring for her while she recovers. Praise be, she is just about completely back on her feet now which is wonderful.
So overall what's the score? Do I think I should have stayed living a lie and sweated it out? - in a word 'No'. Despite everything I'm glad to be properly me at last and I'm glad I did it. Transition is always going to be difficult and for some of us it will be very difficult indeed, but it's worth it in the end.
