Hi folks. I'm new around here, but I thought I would share my coming out experiences with you...
I'm 36 now, and have just come out. Again. For the 3rd time. Only this time I am staying out... :-)
I first came out when I was 16. Like many people here, I had always known but it took me a while to get my head around it and then pluck up the courage to actually tell someone. Bearing in mind that I was 16 in 1990, and from a very conservative, white middle class village in the home counties in England, my options were fairly limited. Fortunately one of my best friends was the token goth girl in the village, was really open and although I made a meal of actually blurting it out, she took it in her stride and hardly even blinked. She even gave me some of her old clothes! Then came a few more friends, and my godmother. She was the only one in my family I thought would understand, because she was cool, and also she worked as a phlobotomist (a blood nurse to you and me...) at the CX clinic, so had first hand experience. She was a little surprised, but was really supportive. She got me the details of who to speak to at the CX clinic, and to say that she had sent me (?). Sadly (and ironically), I didnt have the balls to follow it up. In spite of having a few friends to talk to, there was no internet to research and precious few resources for support or information. So my coming out kind of stopped there.
For a while at least...
When I was 23 I lived in London for a while, and this was far more conducive to me coming out again. The people, the attitudes, the social structure was such that I could easily find people who accepted me for who I was, and soon I was at my GP asking for a referral. He was young and a little green, and I was his first TS patient, but he duly referred me to the local counsellor, as per the NHS doctrine... She was a very nice middle aged lady who asked me questions as if from a book, and seemed to neither care, nor particularly understand my answers (or indeed the questions for that matter) and what they meant. I constantly felt that I was being tested, as if they were trying to catch me out. I asked to be referred to a GIC, or at least a psychologist with more experience in these matters, but was basically fobbed of and sent back to my GP. As far as he was concerned he had done what he needed to do, and the psych assessment amounted to 'I needed to grow up and I would snap out of it...' so nothing more needed to be done. Once again I didnt have the balls to stand up for myself, and basically went backwards for a while. I moved back home, got a new job, threw my girl stuff away and vowed to just get on with life. No one else was happy, so why should I be any different? I lost touch with my London friends and was soon back to square one.
Work was my saviour, at least in the short term. I loved my job, and still do, and have become something of a workaholic, but in an industry where that is not only tolerated, but largely expected (14 hour days and 6 day weeks are 'normal'..).
I met a girl, fell in love (genuinely) and continued to suppress my true feelings. As the relationship progressed, it became harder to tell her, and although she knew something was up (she thought I was cheating for a while), when it was good it was great. We married in 2008, and have a young daughter now, who is amazing!
But, at the same time I was having more and more difficulty keeping a lid on my true feelings, and where I thought I could 'manage' it and just get on with life, I was wrong. I kind of knew it would never go away but for a while at least I could deal with it and stay just about sane.
Last year was an odd one. On one hand, with our baby daughter being born at the end of 2009, it was a brilliant rollercoaster of ups and downs with a new baby in our lives, but at the same time it was becoming obvious to my wife and I that things werent right. Like so many marriages, our daughter was the glue that was (is) holding us together.
I was really conflicted as to whether coming out to my wife was the right thing to do. She knew something was up, and her mind was going to all kinds of places, none of them good, and she deserved the truth. But I felt that not telling her would be selfish, but that telling her was just as selfish.
I had a few weeks working away from home in November, and it gave me a good opportunity to do some serious thinking. During that time I came out to one of my closest friends, who I was also working with. She was amazing, and having the opportunity to talk openly about things for the first time in 12 years really helped me to put things in perspective. I knew that telling my wife, and seeking help, would throw my marriage and homelife into disarray, not telling her would be equally, if not more damaging in the end.
I didnt plan it this way, but I ended up coming out to her on new years eve... (Happy new year honey, and btw I'm transexual and I cant go on living as a man.. Have a great 2011!) :-/
She was, and continues to be amazing. She was totally understanding and supportive. She knew something was wrong, although she didnt come to this particular conclusion, and was basically glad to have the truth out there. Admittedly she was angry that I hadnt felt I could tell her before.
Since then we have had many long conversations, and she swings back and forth between supporting me and wanting me to be happy, being angry about the lack of honesty, and worrying about what the future holds, for me, for us, for our daughter.
There have been times when I wish I could 'untell' her, but to be honest they are fleeting moments. I have had more than 30 years to get used to the idea, she has had 3 weeks.
I saw my GP last week, am waiting for the initial psych referral, made an appointment with a gender counsellor for next week and feel happier than I have for quite some time.
Oh, and I have bought a lot of shoes. And the La Senza sale was on... And Primark and New Look are a Godsend!
Anyway, sorry for going on. Just had to get it off my chest. :-)
A.x
