I wrote this last Wednesday as what was intended to be the first of many journal entries chronicling my story, my attempt to work out who I am as a person, male or female.  I figure it to be as good a way as any to introduce myself.

QuoteTo be, or not to be.  That is the question.

For 23 years, 6 months, and 28 days, I have been, for all intents and purposes, a boy.  I possess your standard masculine anatomy, and the fully functional, dangly bits of genitalia any person would reasonably expect to accompany it.  I have walked like a boy, I have talked like a boy, and with the exception of a heretofore largely-secreted predilection for feminine attire and the associated makeup, have all my life identified as, well, a boy.

...right up until 59 days ago when a bright pink brick came crashing through the blue walls I'd erected about myself so long ago.  Three seconds and the most profound realization I've ever had later, it was clear: there is something very, very wrong with me.

Or, arguably, very, very right.

So once again, the question is begged:  to be, or not to be?  Except, this time, let me phrase it properly.  Let me not play coy.

To be, or not to be:  female.

----------------------------------------------------------------

It was on February 26, 2012, the night of the 84th Academy Awards, that, in an unexpected confluence of emotion and idle fantasy, everything first fell into place.  To be precise, it came at 11:13 PM during what for most must have felt like just one more montage.  Yet another clip package wherein A-list actors and actors indulged themselves, waxing poetic about their favorite movie moments. 

But for me it was the catalyst to an epiphany.

As the montage cut from Natalie Portman, to George Clooney, to Tom Hanks, to Meryl Streep, I was struck by a familiar thought... I am not supposed to look like "that."  I don't want to look like that.  Like Tom or George or any any of those other men, with those suits or that salt and pepper stubble.  And then it was back to another woman.  With those cheekbones.  Those lips.  That hair, those earrings, that makeup, those eyes.

Oh God, her eyes.

My hand trembled as it lifted to my mouth, my jaw hanging open in disbelief as emotion swelled within me, bowling me over like a crashing wave.

I sunk to the carpet, squatting before my television with elephant tears streaming down my masculine face.  My imperfect face.  It was as though I had been living life in grayscale, and as I whispered the words that were looping infinitely through my mind, a melange of color exploded into existence before my eyes.

"I am a girl."

Oh my God, I am a girl.

My name is not Molly, but I wish it were.

While you're here, hon, to all intents and purposes your name is Molly. Or whatever you want it to be.

What a wonderfully eloquent entry. Perhaps, however, a more pertinent question is "To be or not to be yourself."

Welcome to the site, Molly. It's good to meet you. If the above is anything to go by, I very much look forward to reading your posts around the forums. *hug*

welcome to the forum side molly

Hi Molly, it's nice to meet you! I live up near Boston. You'll meet nice people from all over while you're here. See you around, hugs, Devlyn

Thanks, everyone.

Quote from: Sephirah on May 03, 2012, 05:38:59 PM
While you're here, hon, to all intents and purposes your name is Molly. Or whatever you want it to be.

What a wonderfully eloquent entry. Perhaps, however, a more pertinent question is "To be or not to be yourself."

Welcome to the site, Molly. It's good to meet you. If the above is anything to go by, I very much look forward to reading your posts around the forums. *hug*

When I think about it, you're right on both counts.  My mind was like snow from a cathode ray television when I wrote that.  Just a whole bunch of buzzing static.  While I am much more secure in the fact that I am (very likely) female, those words are true to what I was feeling in that moment:  a deep undercurrent of "seriously, who the ->-bleeped-<- am I?  No, like, seriously."

It's like I'd been tied to the blades of a giant windmill, and they just kept spinning and spinning, around and around.  One second I'd know what's up; I could clearly see the horizon—right there, there's the sun!  And the next?

Well, you get the metaphor.

But you are right.  Here, I am Molly.  Can be Molly.  Out there in the real word?  Well, I will still be Molly on the inside—although no one will know it; not yet, at least.  Dropping that bombshell takes time.  (I'm no Jeremy Clarkson from TOP GEAR, you know!)

No promises on the continued eloquence, though.  I'm an (aspiring) writer, so I typically keep the well of wordiness securely corked unless I am in serious writing mode, lest it spring a leak and run dry in the interim.  And as much as I love words, to write that way all the time would be exhausting.  It's like the linguistic equivalent of wearing a little black dress and heels.  Most of the time, you'll probably see me in a t-shirt and sweats.

Hi Molly,

Just thought I'd pop in and give you a warm Aussie welcome to Susans..

Hugs,
Kelly

Welcome, Molly.

It could be argued that my name is not Connie, or rather Constance, Anne. It could be argued that since I haven't gotten my legal name changed that my name is David William. True, that's my legal name.

My real is indeed Connie/Constance. That was the name I gave myself when I started transitioning at age 41.

Your name is how you identify yourself. And you have identified yourself to us: You are Molly, and you are a girl.

Welcome, again, my sister.

If you haven't already done so, please review the site rules and terms of service.

Enjoy your stay!

Warm hugs !!! I usually do not read introductions, but the title of your thread resonate with me; it has been a theme throughout my life, but for me -as Shakespeare had intended for Hamlet- it came to, exists or not to exist. I am sure I am not alone there. I am glad it has a more auspicious meaning to you.

Happy Postings Girl!!!

Thanks for the warm welcome, everyone.  I've been lurking for a couple weeks now (especially over in chat) and thought I'd might as well introduce myself, partially because today has been a good day.  I picked up the phone, at last, and got an appointment with a gender therapist for next week.  Woohoo!

Cue fear.

Hi Molly. 
For me it was the sound of a penny dropping in a grey, empty space that had not held an individual identity for several days. Then another, and another, then a torrent of memories of things that swept me off into a new place where the sun was shining and lambs gambolled in the flowers. And other girly stuff. 

There is fear, but it is fear of taking the first step. After that the second will be easier.  The GT will be able to help you work out the questions you will ask yourself, and help you to work out the answers that will help you get a handle on all this girl stuff.

Karen.

I love your entrance line!  You should make a blog using the same quote. I normally don't come here to introductions because well i let those more newer to transitioning do that. Its been 14 yrs for me since i finished. Yes do use the quote and make your blog and i think it will carry you through thick and thin. welcome

Quote from: justmeinoz on May 04, 2012, 06:55:34 AMThere is fear, but it is fear of taking the first step. After that the second will be easier.  The GT will be able to help you work out the questions you will ask yourself, and help you to work out the answers that will help you get a handle on all this girl stuff.

I have been talking to your standard therapist for a couple weeks now, and from the first meeting was completely open about why I was there.  I think that will help me as a result, because I have already visited some of the memories I know I will be talking about.  It will make it easier.  I do stumble a lot on the word transsexual, though.  I can hear it in my voice—it drops in volume just a touch, as though I am afraid to completely admit it.  And I always qualify the statement "I'm a girl" with "might be."  It's fear that causes it.  And doubt.

As secure as I am in my head, and when I am all by myself... voicing those thoughts with even the tiniest bit of confidence is so tough.  Because, well, I'm not confident.  Not even remotely.  I might be happy as can be when I think to myself, "I am a girl," but at the same time I am terrified out of my mind.  Coming out, coming to acceptance—it's like stripping myself naked in front of the entire world.  Baring my soul for all too see.  Trembling, fearfully anticipating that one negative comment.  That one rotten tomato being flung my way

One of the things that has really helped me keep my head up these past few weeks is this transition video:  line marie mtf girl

Always, without fail, does it serve as inspiration.  "Be true to who you are."  "It's okay to not be okay."  "Dreaming is believing."  Every time I watch it, I find myself in tears.

Just wanted to say welcome, Molly.

I'm glad you're here and you are definitely among friends and family.

LOVE!

Quote from: Molly on May 03, 2012, 08:39:07 PM
Thanks for the warm welcome, everyone.  I've been lurking for a couple weeks now (especially over in chat) and thought I'd might as well introduce myself, partially because today has been a good day.  I picked up the phone, at last, and got an appointment with a gender therapist for next week.  Woohoo!

Cue fear.

With you posting an introduction, it's even better