I had a feeling I wasn't going to be able to continue therapy anymore and I was right. I was hoping to get my T letter. A few days ago I asked what keeps people motivated when going through tough times. One of the answers was to refuse to give up and put one foot in front of the other. So that's what I'm going to do. I am going to email my therapist this. Tell me what you think.

Right now my family is saving up money for college and other costly things. It just seems like this year has been completely up and down as far as trying to find time to plan appointments and finish school. So I'm going to have to cancel it seems for the 100th time and since anything that has to do with transitioning or something transgender related is going to come out of my pocket I'm not going to see you anymore because to be honest I don't have the money and I have to save up for things also. So here's what I am going to do. Since I'm better at expressing myself through writing than verbally saying it I am going to tell you my story. Also during the therapy meetings I felt like I couldn't say everything that was on my mind because usually at least one family member was with me in the room. I want to take this time to tell you everything I wanted to say but just couldn't say it because i was either too scared or I didn't want to make anyone feel uncomfortable. At the end I am going to ask you a question. I was born on September 25, 1995. I was supposed to be born in October. I guess my curious, impatient self couldn't wait to get out into the world. My mother often tells me that the nurses and doctors would all gather around me to see me because I was so small and cute. I've never been one to crave attention and I would much rather be in the background than out front. It's ironic that my life has been just that. I've always been different. So I've always been forced into the forefront. I knew I was different. I'm going to tell you something that I've never told anybody not even my family. I have memories of still being in a diaper and walking around with my bottle. Even then I was aware of myself. I was the beetle who everybody called the ladybug. Growing up in my family if you were gay or trans or just seen as different it was something that was frowned upon. So even though I didn't know what trans was or meant I knew that the way I felt was not to be expressed to my family. I had to keep it inside. Renee, if I would have told my family how I felt as a little kid I would have without a doubt been forced even more so to behave as a girl. And if that was the case I would have killed myself. This week the world has been introduced to Caitlyn Jenner. That's one of the things I wanted to talk to you about. Caitlyn is a hero to me even though a lot of people say she is not. If there is any question if she has changed lives or helped possibly save a life or give hope to people I am proof to that. I don't know how many lives she has helped but she has helped one. Mine. I wanted to introduce you to Julian. That is me. I am Julian. I wanted you to see me for the first time. Even though I haven't started hormones or can't start my transition yet I wanted you to meet me. You would have been the first person to meet me. But as usual things don't go as planned. I didn't plan on typing you this. I don't trust people. When you are completely vulnerable it is like you are naked. And people can either embrace you and give love to you or pick and prod and look at all of your faults and judge you. And that's what happened. I am writing you this because I want to live. I want to be alive for the first time in my life. All of this time I had only been existing. I've never been alive. I have dreams of waking up in the morning and going into the bathroom and doing the regular routine of brushing my teeth. I NEVER look into the mirror. But in these particular dreams something compels me to look up. I look up and I see me. I don't see my reflection. I don't see me as I am now. I SEE ME. I see Julian. I smile. I touch the mirror. I am in disbelief. I cry because I am overwhelmed with joy. I feel alive. I feel so alive. Then I wake up. I have a mirror in my room. I jump up and I run to the mirror. I realize it was just a dream. It was just a dream... I wish I never woke up. Then I carry on about my day as I usually do. I go into the bathroom and brush my teeth avoiding looking into the mirror. I take my clothes off and I wait for the water to get hot. I can't stand being naked. I want that dream to come true renee. It's ironic how people have so much to say about what they know so little about. You can't change your gender. Who do you think you are? That's blasphemy. You're going to hell. You will always be a woman. These are the things that I have heard. I may have only been on this earth for twenty years but I know this. No one can tell you who you are. No one can tell you your purpose. No one call tell you who you're meant to be or become. No one can tell you what your journey looks like. Your soul and God knows. No one else. We have a hard enough time making it through this difficult life. We have a hard enough time trying to figure ourselves out. So how can we possibly look at someone and think we possess enough knowledge and frankly enough balls to tell that person who they are and what their soul's journey looks like when our own lives are usually a mess? I am God's child. He made me. He knew what my journey was before I even existed. That's the only person I answer to. My family may think I may not have a relationship with God because I do not conform to any religion. But they couldn't be further from the truth. I have gotten to know God more over the years as I've gotten to know myself. i haven't gone on this journey of self-discovery by myself. I am alive because of him. When I held the butcher knife to my chest God whispered into my ear not to do it. When I tried to find material to hang myself with God whispered into my ear not to do it. Each time I thought of suicide or tried acting out on it he reminded me that I cannot give up. The thought of being myself one day keeps me alive. I do not want to die. I was born on september 25, 1995 but I want to live in 2015. I want 2015 to be my year. I am turning 20. I don't want to start my twenty's off by being a shell of myself. I am going to be completely honest and tell you that I am not going to live much longer if I don't transition. Transitioning is a matter of life or death with some people. Transitioning is my lifeline. My mother tells me she has a gut feeling that this isn't for me. I don't get angry when I hear that. This 20 year journey of self discovery in terms of my gender has been a long and tough one. But I am ready and I know myself regardless of how many people with gut feelings disapprove. I am almost there. This may be cheesy but when I think of getting my first T shot I get emotional because of what I've had to go through to get to that point. Our community is dying. We're dying because the world tells us we are freaks and we are told that our lives don't matter because we are murdered and often times no justice is given to the victims. We are told by family members who hide behind religion that we are wrong and they have a gut feeling of who we are when they HAVE NOT WALKED IN OUR SHOES NOT ONE SINGLE TIME. We are told that who we are is false. Gender cannot be changed. I'm not changing my gender. My soul has always been male. I don't want you to tell my parents I wrote this or show them this. This is between you and me. I am ready. Unfortunately I haven't been able to see you consistently but I hope through reading this you understand that this is not a game for me. I need to be myself.  The question I wanted to ask you is this: Can you give me my T letter? I don't know how you can give it to me but I will find a way to get it. I can't see you because I don't have a car and you can't fax it to me through a printer. You can scan it and send it to me as a file. That's only way I think I can get it. i don't want to die.

You may want to include that this letter may be "triggering" for some people.

Julian, that's extraordinary. It takes so much courage to write all that down, because it's painful to do in the first place and because you're putting so much of yourself out there for someone else to see.

I know it will take courage to send, too. But do it, I say, and I hope it moves your therapist in the way it should, and that she'll do whatever it takes to help you. You deserve it.

And, yeah, keep putting one foot in front of the other, and you will get there.

it's good to get it out. you can't heal if the pain is hidden away. It took me way too long to do what your doing. best wishes

That is a powerful letter and I hope your therapist can understand the degree of your need. I know every word of it to be true because a message like that can't be faked. It has to be written from the heart.