My boss. My tailor. My hairdresser. My personal trainer.

All of these situations are lulzy in their own ways. I'm quite content to ride the train of Not Saying Anything for as long as I possibly can, but HRT is hitting me hard. I'm not entirely surprised because I am absurdly sensitive to everything, like allergic to most mattresses and will sleep for 36 hours on a standard dose of Nyquil. I have to cut Benadryls in half.

I honestly don't want to come out to anyone. I just want to leave, but I'm here until after the new year.

I feel guilty and amused, like I have this inside joke, only with myself, that doubles as a ticking time bomb. The wonderful thing about testosterone is that it makes me not care (read: it transformed obsessive anxiety into, "Oh well! LMAO!"). But I probably should care. Maybe. A little.

Did anyone else put off coming out until things got stupid?

I know what you mean by the inside joke I loved seeing people react to me at first and look at me strange and say things like "Wow vitamins are you taking to get your skin looking so soft?" "You look like you've lost weight" "Your hair looks so soft and blonde what shampoo and conditioner are you using". Then you get people thinking you're sick or dying because they can't explain why you're suddenly transforming. One of my coworkers noticed when I got my first laser it changed all the chin hairs to white and said I have a little salt and pepper showing he didn't notice before.

I don't think a single person figured it out until I came out to people and everyone. I had a few people in total shock and many didn't see it coming. I think all in all I made it out to be a bigger deal than it actually was. Bottom line is everyone is so focused on themselves they barely notice anyone else and they aren't going to care for the most part what others do or don't do. The only ones who actually care are your close friends and family.

I had a lot of anxiety about coming out and after it was over I'm glad I did. I think it helps not waiting a super long time and being honest and transparent and including others in your story. You'll be amazed at how many people will celebrate and support you. I choose to come out and share my journey on Facebook and I have a pretty solid following of supporters.

Of course not everyone will celebrate you but they generally unfriended me, disconnected themselves from my life and I shed all the negative weight. Whether you wait 6 months or 10 years you aren't going to change those people's opinions no matter how good or passable you look. That was a hard one for me to accept. The ones who don't see our genuine identity never will. You just have to find your own happiness and not care what others think anymore.


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Nikkimn, that's an interesting post. I am at the very start still, and I've got a long way to go but I was just going to go with the flow and see what happens - not to deny it anymore if anyone asks, but not to announce to the world either. Coming out for me to my family while my Dad is still alive isn't going to happen. My father is in poor health anyway and something like this might send him over the top. We might be polar opposites, I might detest his politics but he's still my Dad. It is going to be an interesting experience. Thank you for sharing your experience, something more for me to think about... and blackcat, thank you for asking the question. 

Quote from: blackcat on September 23, 2018, 11:26:10 PM
My boss. My tailor. My hairdresser. My personal trainer.

All of these situations are lulzy in their own ways. I'm quite content to ride the train of Not Saying Anything for as long as I possibly can, but HRT is hitting me hard. I'm not entirely surprised because I am absurdly sensitive to everything, like allergic to most mattresses and will sleep for 36 hours on a standard dose of Nyquil. I have to cut Benadryls in half.

I honestly don't want to come out to anyone. I just want to leave, but I'm here until after the new year.

I feel guilty and amused, like I have this inside joke, only with myself, that doubles as a ticking time bomb. The wonderful thing about testosterone is that it makes me not care (read: it transformed obsessive anxiety into, "Oh well! LMAO!"). But I probably should care. Maybe. A little.

Did anyone else put off coming out until things got stupid?

I don't say anything to people in real life unless they ask. And then maybe I'll go into it. Maybe not.

I don't have to come out to anyone and I don't much feel like discussing it these days. Having the reality of being what I am sink in over the years it's not a happy subject. I'm don't quite get why others are so keen to tell everyone they meet.

I've had horrendous experiences with coming out to people so far. Most trans people I've spoken with have told me that I've had pretty bad luck, especially considering my age. I just changed my phone number, and I seriously have more phone numbers for takeout than I do actual people who would care if I lived or died. I hardly even order takeout.

I have mixed feelings on being out vs. stealth. Someone made a great point that once you come out, you can never take it back.

I would mind disclosing less if no one knew me as I was; it's different if I have to disclose and everyone has the image of "girl me" and how I "should be" in their heads. I'd much rather leave my transition an abstract, instead of something people can concretely see--so it's not reinforcing a prison I need desperately to escape for the sake of my life.

(I feel like I always sound awfully dramatic when I talk about this?)

I think my hairstylist would be cool, as she mentioned something LGBT-friendly by chance. She does my hair like a K-pop star, so I'd like to keep her. 

I've had to get so many clothes fitted, and the tailor I go to is this 77 year old lady who will talk for an hour about Judge Judy if I let her, and asks a million questions about EVERYTHING. Sweet but nosy to the max. I had to improvise some BS about a friend giving some clothes away, and fortunately everything I brought was so flaming gay, I doubt it tipped her off.

I don't know if my personal trainer will suspect I'm using steroids. My goal is basically to get man-jacked. I haven't started dressing masc at the gym yet, but I'm probably going to start in another month. The days I have before setting my scalloped flower shorts on fire are numbered.

I get my name changed in December. My boss & coworkers would be cool; I just don't want to come out to clients. The thought of doing that makes me sick. If my voice drops the bass like Skrillex and I have to come out, I might just tell my boss I'm NB, on T, changed my name to something neutral, and would rather give clients my new name and let them do the math. My clients pay my bills and I'd rather not make a public announcement about having the wrong genitals. No way.

Ideally, I would give my boss an extended notice before I leave to find a replacement, and tell her I'm leaving because the stork was drunk and I can't live with the stigma.

I'd be so much happier if I never had to say anything to anyone. I don't have the energy for a hyper-femme presentation. If I could fake it harder, I could stealth transition for a longer period of time.

I will share the updates of this slow-motion trainwreck as it explodes in my face. Hopefully I will meet some unexpected accepting people along the way.

I was reading reviews for this awesome store I shop at one day randomly, and the review (2 stars) read, "...AND they had a tr*nny working there, creepy." If I have to tell clients, I feel like every day I'm going to be gawked at, like I'm in a zoo... even if people are polite to my face. I specialize in a niche thing, and I'm kind-of-sort-of known, and everything in the business is word of mouth.

And I'll never know if people aren't gawking at me. So I'd rather peace out and not live with the stress.

My experience with friends and coming out to them has been fine. Even the ones that used to think I was hot. Lol. They still talk to me, still confide in me the stuff going on in their lives and such. I think the key to being accepted lies in how you approach people. I just told them and said, look, you know I'm weird and always was a bit different, well I guess this must be why, I just got diagnosed. And left it at that. I didn't give them pronouns to call me, or a list of things they had to say and do in order to be "respectful" to me. I just told them this was what I'd been diagnosed with and stuff makes more sense this way for me. Then left it at that. I didn't go around telling each one individually either, it cropped up naturally in conversations, and was absorbed afterward over a year or so. I didn't want to bring it up too often or too much with anyone as it would seem like I was obsessed with it and frankly I don't find it that interesting a topic to discuss with anyone who doesn't really understand it or what it's like. Surprisingly not a single friend has walked away or got a cob on over it. I also still live with the guy I used to go out with who is straight so... I dunno how all that works, other than that it did. But the key seemed to be that I didn't press the issue much.

I also - very importantly - have a sense of humour about the whole thing. If someone cracks a joke I can actually see the funny side, because this condition IS absurd - the position we've been put in by nature certainly is - and sometimes all I can do about it is laugh to myself about how bizarre it all is too. Humour is a great diffuser of tensions between people. I can joke about myself and everything else, and people respond to that almost with immense relief these days. That's not to say I allow myself to be the butt of such jokes - people are surprisingly sensitive actually about the sort of jokes they send my way and I'm far cruder than they are with my humour...

Family was a bit different. I had to tell them because they wanted to know why it sounded like they were talking to James Earl Jones on the phone. Some of them thought for a brief time I was someone impersonating me and I had to give some examples of things only I would know about to reassure them, which was absurd and kind of funny. In the end I think those that think the trans stuff is weird and faddish still had to admit that I've always been a very awkward yet straightforward no-nonsense child who rejected anything feminine from an early age and loooong before transsexuals were a "mainstream" topic. They can't deny it. So they just seem to shrug and expect I'll do whatever I want. I suppose I am lucky in that for a family that's half-Catholic, only one of them would have a real issue and she remains blissfully ignorant of the whole deal.

99% of the time though, I don't say anything at all to people I meet, or have to interact with. Some people don't even notice or bat an eye, others seem to have a sharper eye, and the rare one can spot it right off and knows I was born female. I'm not sure exactly what causes some to have such sharp eyes, or awareness, but it's not that common. People don't look that hard, usually. I've not had a bad experience as yet with any of them though. Yet.

The main thing that will cinch a person's appraisal is usually the voice. If it sounds male and even if you look a bit girlish, you're male to them at first impression. Which is why you won't be able to hide anything forever.

Quote from: blackcat on September 23, 2018, 11:26:10 PM
I feel guilty and amused, like I have this inside joke, only with myself, that doubles as a ticking time bomb. . . . Did anyone else put off coming out until things got stupid?

        Cat what if "things got stupid" never happens? Does anybody really do Jack's "woodworking" anymore? Disappear and emerge new somewhere else? With many of us "older crowd" that's simply not an option! Gotta agree with Kylo, the good humor, gradual out approach is best! Suppose you could shave every day like a lot of us "half-breeds". Been on HRT so long yet not crossdressing outwardly would think FtM would have the advantage. Am still waiting for someone to say "er, ma'am excuse me, but your not appropriately dressed" (for this formal and/or particular occasion).

       Do go "topless" at the YMCA pool almost daily with grandbaby and no one's had a heart attack yet!  Could tell ya stories many have known of (and, more importantly, accepted) my girlish proclivities without ever having to openly discuss it - daughter-in-law's grandmother (of all people) at a family party once said, completely out of the blue, "if ya wanna be a girl yer gonna need face work (FFS)"!