Hi and Merry Christmas!
I am a 53 yo transgender woman who is still very much in the closet, but am bursting at the seams to tell someone. I wish to thank this website in advance. I have utilized it extensively in my struggle.
I always knew I was different. Oh I loved doing "boy things" but I was much more comfortable and identified more with other females. I remember being more content playing inside with my next door neighbor, a girl, than playing outside with the guys (unless we were playing a good baseball or football game. Girls like sports too!). I relished playing with my girlfriend next door. We played house, played with Barbie dolls, and board games.
I always knew I was different "down there". My Mom was not flamboyant, but she wasn't a prude either. She was simply comfortable in her own skin. She often walked from the bedroom to the shower, and occasionally left the door open when she pottied. I knew I had something down there and she was all smooth. I liked the way she looked and wished I could look like she did. I knew she wore panties, so I often wore my undies backwards to make myself look like I was wearing panties.
As I grew into adolescence, I became more confused about my "condition", which led to depression. I compensated by overeating and became morbidly obese (which is the norm for Mississippians, lol). I was a loner with very few friends, ostracized by my weight and budding feminine traits I tried organized football and baseball, but by then I had become more passive and grew disinterested with both sports. I still didn't know what was wrong with me. I just knew I was different somehow.
When I reached puberty things began to become more clear. Changes started happening to my body. I slimmed up and had a huge growth spurt. I started growing hair, including pubic hair, but my penis never really developed. It kind of embarrassed me when I was peeing in the trough alongside "other boys", but inside I didn't really care. I also developed gynecomastia (enlarged breasts).
Along with the developmental changes came the raging hormones. I used my Mom's things and started crossdressing and masturbating dressed every time I had the chance. But after I ejaculated, I felt extremely guilty and the confusion always recurred. WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME? THIS JUST ISN'T NORMAL!
And then...IT HAPPENED, or specifically Renee' Richards happened. When I read the story of Renee' Richards, I knew what I was, a trans girl. From that point on I researched every topic about transsexuality, though there was very little info about it in the 70s. I only knew what transsexuality was and that it was medically possible to change my biological sex to my t
rue gender.
I spent the next decade or so meandering about, knowing that I needed to start transitioning, but never having the courage to do so. My last opportunity to transition came nearly 30 years ago. I was still young, and a roommate moved out of my apartment, and I thought to myself, "Okay now I can transition". But as quickly as the door opened, it slammed shut. I fell in love, and married less than 6 months later. We had 3 beautiful children, and now we have a handsome grandson and a beautiful granddaughter. Did my gender issues disappear? Of course not! But I went back to college to be a teacher and immersed myself in my work and my family.
My life was altered in the blink of an eye 3 years ago. I was diagnosed with a golf ball sized tumor in my brain. Very soon after, I had surgery to remove it, and POOF, my teaching career was over. I went from a 3X nominated Teacher of the Year to a nobody in about 12 hours. I spiraled down into a deep depression. I had (have) seizures, rendering me unable to drive. Although I was granted disability, we weren't able to make ends meet, especially with mounting debts. So there I sat. A prisoner in my own home, saddled by mounting debt, and a woman hopelessly trapped inside, with no foreseeable remedy for both of us in the near future.
With all hope lost, I began a series of three suicide attempts. I nearly got the 3rd one right, taking a HUGE cocktail of my meds. I suffered from organ failure, and was placed on the vent. When my wife asked the doc how I was doing, he replied that she better start calling in the family. But God had other plans, and after 2 days of touch and go, I was awake and alert.
After I left the hospital, I underwent intensive outpatient therapy. I grew an incredible rapport with my therapist. As time went on and I trusted her more and more, I became toying with her about telling her-coming out to her. I finally resolved to tell her this month, but kept chickening out each session. Finally, I started psyching myself up last week. "Okay, Whitney, you're going to tell her this time."
When Tuesday came, we took half the time talking BS (Hows your relationship with your family? Are you still suicidal? blah, blah, blah, etc. etc.). Then I looked at her and said that I had something to tell her. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. "_________, I am transgender and my name is Whitney Alysse Young", fearing the worst because after all, I live in Mississippi. But when I opened them I saw a loving smile on her face. Then she hugged me and said, "It's finally nice to meet you Whitney."
And oh my God what a tremendous weight was lifted off my back. I was incredibly overjoyed in that moment. For the 1st time in my life, someone called me Whitney! I came out! Now I have come out to all of you. I don't know if I will ever tell anyone again, but I do know that it will be easier if I ever decide to share. I probably won't transition either. I love my family and cannot bare to put them through such a trial. But I'm comfortable knowing that Whitney and ________ can peacefully coexist. Thank you for allowing me to share and Merry Christmas!
