Hi y'all--
Although I haven't found my exact place under the trans umbrella, I have been active in the community for nearly a year now. I'm 23 y/o, seeing a psychiatrist, meeting with a great group of cd/tg/ts (the River City Gems), and out to some close friends and my parents. I suppose I'm posting this for the benefit of those whose voices have yet to be heard or are to afraid to speak up. Plus I figure this is the almost perfect first post on this site. I suppose I identify as transgender but questioning the social/emotional/financial aspects of transitioning, although I suppose it's in my cards. I'm curious to hear how many other people see themselves in what I wrote and what made them realize transition was the right choice for them.
Oh and the doctor, Dr. Cavanaugh, is my current psychiatrist; and Jessica, was my first and only girlfriend (at the ripe age of 21).
Hugs
--Staci
Dear Mom and Dad—
I needed to write this letter to tell you about something I've been struggling with for almost my entire life. Now what you're about to read may be shocking, comforting, confusing, or helpful. What I hope is that you'll be able to read through it, and that for the first time in my life I can share completely something with you that I've been trying to come to terms with.
I feel female. I've always felt that way. The thing that I've struggled with is what to do about it. I don't hate my male role in life, and I do feel somewhat comfortable with my body as it is. I worry with what time will bring and whether I will accept those changes or feel more depressed. Yes, this is the reason why I struggle to look in the mirror; I don't see my face as ugly, but it's just not me. It is also the reason why I can be sloppy and messy at times simply because I don't always care about the appearance I have. Even the little things have been big to me. When someone at Round Table joked that I was going bald, probably because of the slightly receding hairline, I was appalled. I still am. For most men losing their hair at my age would be one thing, but when you feel female it's far worse. I remember when I first felt my growing Adam's apple, I cried for a week afterward; I didn't think about why, but it just didn't feel right. The cleft chin I have would ordinarily be a mark of pride for most men, but it disgusts me. I think sometimes hardest of all is something unique to me, only because I've never heard anyone in this same situation complain about it—my voice. For most people hearing a recording of their voice can be disconcerting because it doesn't sound quite like what they hear. For me when I heard a recording of me, I can get almost sick to my stomach because I know those were the same words I was speaking but that is sooo not my voice. The voice in my mind is not so deep and rough, it's bubbly, light and full of enthusiasm. It's a girl's voice. The funny thing is that people usually complement me on my voice when I read something, saying something like "You should be an announcer for something." And it does make me feel good unless I hear a recording of my voice, then I really get confused.
As I said I can remember this feeling for a long time so that is part of the reason why it's been easy to never bring up, I learned to ignore and deny it at a young age. I remember praying to God to change me and make me happy, hoping that I would wake up and be me. It obviously never happened. Then after hearing about alien abductions I hoped that they would come and change me. Yes, I know it sounds crazy, and I have to admit it is, but when you're confused you'll hope for anything to feel better about yourself. I've felt everything from shame to disgust to loneliness when it comes to how I feel about my identity. Likely it's the reason why I haven't been able to open and honest with you two on everything, I've learned it's easy to keep things somewhat hidden. Later I learned that I could ignore the feelings I felt although I've been forced to face them from time to time, and when that happens I've typically not had the strength to stop worrying.
The winter before I met Jessica, I was in a difficult place. I had just returned to Berkeley the previous semester and although things had returned to normal I still felt alone. I had always wanted a relationship with a girl, but my idea of a relationship is probably different than most guys. I craved closeness with someone— not physical, but emotional. Arguably I wanted a girl friend, more than I wanted a girlfriend. At the same time I was strongly dealing with my identity and what to do about it. I knew that my body was masculinizing more every day and that I should figure out what path I needed to take. I set my sights on making a decision by spring break of that next semester. I headed back not sure of what was to come, but sure that I needed to find out. I was prepared to tell you both how I felt then. But along came Jessica. As you know she meant everything to me; I loved her, and I still do. Without ever saying much she made me feel better about myself; I tried to take an interest in my appearance for her. I loved romancing her, making her feel special, but sometimes I really worried I was living vicariously through her. I had worried about that before with other girls I had crushes on, was I attracted to them or just admiring them? In short, did I want to be with them or be them? Honestly I can say I've never had the urge to physically assert myself on a girl (or guy) because it doesn't seem right. I can remember many times all I've wanted to do is curl up on a couch with someone, not commonly a male trait. There were other times at well where I imitated certain things that Jessica said or did, without any conscious intention. She'd joke by saying, "You're such a girl", and all I could do at the time was laugh. Although I had told her that I cross-dressed and it shocked her, I still intended to eventually tell her how I really felt, nervous that she'd reject me. Either fortunately or unfortunately the opportunity for mentioning that never came. Although losing her has been perhaps the most emotionally painful thing in my life, it's also given me a chance to look at the real me, because when I was with her I did worry that I was just ignoring the other big issue.
Dr. Cavanaugh and I have talked about this for the past few months and although I agree with him on many of the points he makes, I also disagree with a few. He is concerned that people who head down this path "tend to dip their toe in the water and then jump in". He also feels that people may have larger issues regarding self-confidence and image. Now on both of these points I agree, but unfortunately as deep as I've looked there are no other issues with self-esteem and image. My friends, the two of you, and the rest of the family does make me feel good about myself. I've been fortunate that I've had so few instances of torment or bullying in my life, I've been lucky where others haven't. There are other things that I don't completely agree with him on. As a physician he went through four years of medical school and another three of training for psychiatry, and he himself has told me that his training may have a bias on how he views things although he tends to have an open mind. In his medical opinion most people with gender dysphoria (where brain and body don't match) typically have problems in their childhood that causes them to reject their own identity. As you both know, and as I can tell you, I had a wonderful childhood, certainly with some ups and downs but nothing that could cause that. Other than the different ways we view what may have caused this my appointments with him have been largely helpful. I think what has been most helpful though is the soul searching that I've been doing on my own for a long time.
There are a number of things that I've thought about and have hurt but they've largely been fulfilling when it comes to self-discovery. Case in point I recall a few times in high school and college when talking with one of my girl friends about something when they'd stop and say, "Oh, you'd never understand. You're not female." It hurt, it's always hurt for some strange reason. I completely understood why they'd say it but there's no denying that it made me feel alone. Girl inside, guy outside. Too many times I wanted to stop them and say "You'd be surprised to know but..." I couldn't because they wouldn't understand, they'd think I was joking. There have been other things that have been just as hard for me to realize I miss out on. Too often I'm sad when I run my fingers through my hair only to notice that it's short, no ponytail for me. There's something so simple and funny to me when all I want to do is pull my hair back and put on a baseball cap (I suppose I'll always be more of a tomboy anyway). There are other simple things that people take for granted, that hurt the most. I've cried and still do when I realize that I can never get pregnant and have a child of my own. I remember telling Jessica that she should be so happy that she was able to carry a life inside of her; she laughed and gave me a funny look. At times I hinted about our future, about being a family, and it was always something that brought me happiness. However what I never really thought about and didn't realize until later were how we felt about children. The truth is I wanted what she wanted, to be a mom, but I knew that could never happen.
I still worry about what this means and what to do about it. I've always tried to ignore it, but I know that I can't always do that. I've worried how the two of you would feel if I told you. How other family members would react, especially Papa and Grandma. Usually I get to the point of saying well I'll suck it up and be as happy as I can; I'm certainly not miserable, living the rest of my life as a guy would not be the worst thing in the world for me. In fact the reverse also worries me, if I transition (the word people use when they talk about changing gender because it's not an overnight process) how much happier would I be? Who would stay in my life and who would leave because they would think I'm a freak? Would women see me as one of their own or say to themselves, "oh she used to be a man"? Would guys point and laugh or hold me how I want to be held? How will it affect my future? The worry and unhappiness are hard to get through some days; for the most part, I don't think of it and I'm happy, but when I'm forced to think about it, I'm miserable. It's largely the reason why I've typically pushed myself, and always tried to keep busy. More and more though, I've come to realize that I can no longer ignore what this means for me as an individual and my future. I don't want this to be the single most important thing in my life; I want an education, I want a family, mostly I want to be happy and secure in my own skin. Dealing with this has been and will always be difficult— it shortens my concentration, wipes my self-esteem, and gets me emotional. It's made life hard, but not terrible. Whatever the outcome is I feel like I owe it to you, my future partner, and myself to figure it out.
With all my love
[Natal Name Omitted]
PS In the sealed envelope are pictures of me of when I feel happiest, you can look if you feel comfortable.
