Sunday, April 24, 2005 at 2:15:33 AM – Original
Thursday, May 26, 2005 – Mark II.
*sets up an expresso machine and offers a large cup to anyone interested * ... sorry, this is a long one
*offers tea with and without lemon and honey as well.*
"When I look into a mirror and see a woman I am happy. When I look into a mirror and see a man I am sad and repulsed." That I suppose speaks volumes in and of itself.
Hello
I expect this will be rather long as I'd like for anyone interested (i.e. you nice reader) to have at least some idea of who and why I am what I am.
I am more or less your "typical" late onset MtF transsexual, age 30 (going on either 112 or 12, somedays I'm really not sure
) as of last month (April 9th).
My pseudonym here is derived from an internal query of when I should have started this, the reply as you may guess, was 26 or so, which puts me four years late, though I settled for just 4years as it is shorter and I liked how it sounded better.
*sigh* Please don't mind the statement driven nature of this, I blame too many years programming.
Have I mentioned I hate life? Ah yes well I do. Death actually. But you can't have one without the other. Lousy arrangement that, albeit practical.
I try very (very) hard to be helpful to everyone so if I goof and hurt feelings I am very sorry. ... I'm afraid I also seem haughty at times and I'm sorry for that. I really don't consider myself better, though I really am sure I'm correct.
You know, it is really hard to distill one's life down to a readable amount with neither boring everyone to death nor leaving out rather important details, but the attempt must be made.
Life has been more of less nice to me, though poverty isn't any fun at all. Regardless I've been depressed most of my life, oft I thought because I was lonely, of which I very definitely was – I was ready for a good, solid relationship since 4th grade or so, but it took till I was 29 till I found someone compatible. That hurts, however you want to look at it. I've been depressed for quite some time, if not for loneliness for someone/thing dying that I care about, regardless I've tried hard to be an optimistic person, though at times really wonder if I've succeeded at all.
I have spent a very large portion of my life alone, although my best friends (a.k.a. parents) are seldom far. I have often reminded myself during this life that "I was supposed to be a boy/guy/man" this life. As you may have gleaned from 'this life' I believe in reincarnation and in fact remember bits of other lives. Needless to say this has given me quite a different perspective that most. I believe life is at least in part a learning experience.
My impression that "I was supposed to be a man this life" originates from a suggestion before this life started. Sadly I'm a bit of a doof at times and sometimes have a hard time letting go. My first go at this life was in fact as a unborn girl of which I aborted as I recalled, in horror, that I goofed and had agreed to be a boy this life. You see, I've spent the majority of my lives as the female of the species, uncommonly the species being Homo sapiens. I realize this sounds quite bizarre and so some heretical even, I am sorry. It should be noted that this life has been very informative, even if painful.
Interestingly I've never cared for childhood nor did I like being a child.
My childhood was basically uneventful, though I learned that neither my peer group nor persons in authority were to be trusted early on. This made my adoption of the role of "rebel" very easy. I have always been very mindful of what I can do and get away with, and fairly sensitive to other wants. I am an approval seeker at heart. However, I *had* to have long hair, regardless of others. I did not want the tar beat out of me, or attempts there of, so I adopted a persona of a rebel, "mess with me and die", type. I guess I bluffed pretty well, as I never had any mentionable troubles. Fortunate as I tend to have about as much respect for the majority of humanity as humanity has for "animals", which is to say considerably less that is desirable.
I stopped respecting "authority" in second grade when I was forced to sing Christmas carols, which seems like such a small insignificant thing, but to me it was very significant indeed.
It should be noted that I have *HUGE* love and respect for anyone who is trying to make the world a better place, which is primarily aimed at the Police force. Almost seems paradoxical doesn't it? I try very, very hard to be a good proper girl but I am very mindful of what others, in my opinion, have a right to do. I just wish everyone would behave.
Somewhere around age 7 I could not stand having short hair any longer. I know my Grandfather cut my "long" (shoulder length) hair at one point, I believe after that. My Grandfather is a exceptionally great man, but a bit traditional. But, I was going to have long hair one way or another, and if MacGyver (listed as showing Sep 1985 to may 1992) could then so could I.
Luckily (probably more for my sanity than anything) acquiring my 2 Cabbage Patch kids proved to be a non issue, the same with acquiring my "My Little Pony"s. I always have liked "My little Pony". I have always had a large collection of plush toys (a.k.a. stuffed critters, teddy bears and such like.) In brief I never had any trauma acquiring things I liked, which has undoubtedly been good in the long run. I had my fair collection of the normal boy fiar toys, such as Tonka Trucks, Transformers and G.I.Joe, which were primarily acquired primarily during my middle school times. I think Middle school was the most male I'd ever be in this life.
At a very young age in the location I was at from 3 to 10 years of age. I was walking out of my bedroom and thought to my self that it would be nice to not have breasts this time but that I didn't care for these hangy downie parts at all. Truthfully I've always though the male body a stupid design, but I digress. I have always found my former aversion to having breasts to be misplaced and looking back on it artificial. Another irrationality I displayed was an inability to cope with long fingernails. I drew blood multiple times chewing my fingernails off and it took many years and lots of hurt fingers before I started using nail clippers to remove any last vestige of white from my nails. When I was older (middle and high school era) I'd joke that I didn't want to scratch my keyboard so I kept my nails short. In the end I knew that argument to be hollow but did not know exactly why. These irrational phobias may well have saved a good portion of my sanity during school when the other girls started developing. As I sit here typing this, my nails are longer than they have ever been in my life.
High school was an interesting waste of time by and large, I started high school in Florida and ended in California with no diploma, all credits and only 3 years spent. This was thanks to the magic of a new continuation high school which really didn't know what they were doing yet. I choose to go to the continuation school as I had hoped the kids would behave better. By and large this worked acceptably. Sometime around grade 10 in the normal (noisy) high school I became aware that something hasn't happened. I place this somewhere in human biology discussing human reproduction, I am not certain if this is exactly related or not but it does fit if we consider that my nose was rubbed into the fact men are like this and woman are like this. I mean I *know* this and "I'm supposed to be a guy this life" (which is a phrase that I have echoed repeatedly during this life) but regardless something somewhere a connection is made in my being. Fast-forward though a lonely high school, and (community) college, what little I got to play at the expensive place, and yes I'm bitter about that.
As far as suicide goes I am still alive because I love my parent more than I hate life. My first cross dressing experience (a one piece black swimsuit) caused me a lot of emotional pain and is probably the closest I've come to sewerside. I had machete in hand and was mulling over how and what the outcome would be. It was the love of my parents that calmed me back to coherence. The problem was those damn hangie downie parts making a bulge where it should only be smooth. It was quite depressing indeed to contemplate never being rid of them. Never being pretty. So, I've deviated from the more normal transsexual path in how I crossdress as I've found that I have no issue at all imagining wearing clothing and I oft role-played a female character.
<Insert 9.9 years that vanish into oblivion, save a few fleeting memories>
Eventually I discover (or was it the other way around? A nice lady and we hit it off. We share dreams, make plans, consider a life together and so on. After so long being alone it almost seemed to good to be true.
One day I awoke (my 30th birthday was getting close) and realized with great joy that I was half dead... as in keel over at 60. Joy and relief of being half way done with life. Unfortunately I then I realized with depression that I'd probably not die at 60. ... Needless to say something was amiss as far as happiness goes. In hindsight being suicidal most of my life *probably* should have been more of a clue but I'm so terribly dense sometimes. So, I did a bit of quick calculation, weighed in how much I may learn (recall "I'm supposed to be a guy this life" to learn) and came to the conclusion that something had to change. (That is an important part, of course)
I have tried very hard to be a man, but in the end I realized that I wasn't a very good man (my opinion). Passable and functional to be sure but no matter how I tried ... well, I was simply not being true to myself, and very definitely not having fun. So I thought on that a few days.
I have found that if you let life work and don't hinder it, life will steer you in the direction you need to go. In my case it was a few mouse clicks that led me to a story. It was a transsexual's story of their life.. the why and the how and so on, more or less typical really but it made me aware if she could be free so could I. I HAD to be.
I looked inside (mentally) and had the clearest vision of a woman behind bars (rattling them something fierce) yearning to be free. Regardless of any consequence I could not deny her that freedom. In essence I merged with myself and stopped being/identifying as male at this point (20%male + 80%female = me; by the by). I became free and me. All one hundred percent of me, whatever this turns out to be. Strictly speaking there is still a part of me hiding... free but sleeping currently. In time that part of my will awaken as well.
I started searching the net and I stumbled upon an online test (COGIATI) and with what was my typical male mindset took it. Rather to my surprise I listed as an ANDROGYNE, which I found amusing (no duh! – I've been trying to be a man all my stinking life. I suppose it is nice to see I was at least somewhat successful.). I ponder and thought on this and noted that I'd answer differently with slightly different conditions, which is the of tests, as I usually contradict myself when the question is asked differently; This has always been the case.) Regardless I took the test again and (no surprise of course) it listed me as a "COGIATI classification FOUR, PROBABLE TRANSSEXUAL", some time later I took it again (different mindset), touch lower numeric value I think, but same classification. (Just took it again (for whatever it is worth mind you) score of 280 "COGIATI classification FOUR, PROBABLE TRANSSEXUAL".) At any rate I take it more as a "hum, maybe I'm not so crazy after all.". In honesty I'd only have been worried if it listed me as definitely male because really I've always been pretty certain that I've never been that.
So I started thinking (even more!) and looking and researching.
So here I sit. Happier than I have been since elementary. Happy to be alive and *finally* happy and working to make a future. What is to come is going to hurt like hell. I've more visits to doctors to come than I've ever wanted and would ever wish on anyone (I've never been to fond of modern medicine) and for someone under poverty level income the expense should just depress me terribly.. but it does not. For some silly reason I know it will all work out. Beyond hope and beyond reason. It will work. It HAS to work.
*holds breath; hits submit... and hopes.* ... again
