Fascinating string and discussion. It is so poignant, yet so beautiful, when wonderful human beings tell their truth. We live and learn so much--from each other in our shared experiences.
From my very first memories, the hardware-software mismatch was palpable and frustrating. My elder sister, parents (and much of the extended family) saw the dysphoria and struggled with what the heck to do with me. At 12 years old in 1975, my mother went to an MHMR and picked up a pamphlet to help her understand what was going on; to learn that DSM-III had just removed homosexuality from the list of mental disorders. Even yet, transgender never entered the lexicon in our discussions. So essentially, I was read the realities of my life of "gloom and doom" that my poor mother saw for me; a life of no children and being among "people like that." She did the very best she could, while I grew to excel in sports, academics and everything I could master--to hopefully make my parents proud of me. I was one of the lucky ones, I realize. As long as I did well and stayed out of trouble, life was good.
As my year books over the years were filled with "to the guy in our class with a girl's name," I attracted more female paramours than male, which of course was always fine by me. Half of the handful of guys who were attracted to me, interestingly, are gay today, and still friends. Lots of psychology there, no?
My folks decided to leave WNY for the sunshine and "opportunity" of Texas when I was just 16; breaking off my first romance that I was involved in with a girl a year my senior. The ache stung for years, and I still get a lump in my throat when I see her at my old NY class reunions. She went on to a handful of broken relationships over the decades and married only a couple years ago. She married a man with a son and we are friends on FB.
Do I miss my old self? I think about it often as I go through this process. Facebook is a reminder as in my heart, I've only just been given the opportunity to go through the puberty I only dreamed of, and I chose to keep my original profile, correcting only my name after I went through the legal process of correcting my identity docs, and posting a primer of the obvious--that explained the more "me" me (with an extra 25# of upper body strength obvious, and changing hairline). I may be different in the aspect that I saw no incongruence in who I was to who I am now, but simply a coming in to my own. My extended family understands it, although, like a few have noted, it has been difficult for many of my cousins who likely do miss the comforts---of the "old me," the overachieving workaholic who built and sold a company over 25 years, and champion of equality and working people everywhere. They're only beginning to understand what drove me to the workaholism that was, and still is--the hallmark of my life.
I am incredibly proud of my parents (who gave me tough love, but never abandoned me) and even myself--similar to a couple comments here--for not becoming a total alcoholic or engaging in other self-destructive behavior, even though the frustrations many days seemed insurmountable. My greatest frustration all those years before I began physical transition (2009) was simply that of making love with any one of the few beautiful women I've been lucky enough to have had in my life---when the sense of "phantom limb syndrome" drove me to tears.
In a perfect world, I would have stopped running and denying myself the opportunity to have corrected the situation earlier in life, as I'd have loved to have had a family of my own--and had the opportunity to have lived that proverbial "normal life" with the majority, in addition to the life I've been socialized in (essentially a straight guy socialized as a lesbian?!). I chose to keep my head down, until at 50 and facing a new career....I had to ask myself how I could live the rest of my life....exhausted of trying to play female. One constantly run from restrooms, and constantly hating the whole clothes thing. I just couldn't take it anymore.
So, at 54, I'm 4 years since top surgery and on T, after which I managed to learn how to stand straight up for the first time in my life without the boobs to hide. I'm now on the mission to find the most capable surgeon and am considering GCS to both complete the package and --hopefully put an end to the annoying process of packing. Having solved the "phantom limb syndrome" will be an amazing joy I'm only starting to fully conjure in my mind, and while knowing the risks, downsides of such approach, I'm smashing ahead. The grumpy little "girl" in all my childhood pictures...giving way to the fulfilled man I've always been and known in my heart.
I apologize for the lengthy post--and thank you for your indulgence. As a writer, this process of sharing is cathartic, for sure. I wish each and every one on this string all the health, happiness and fulfillment each of us has in our grasp. Be yourself, be well, and stay beautiful, all.
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