Well sisters, where do I begin? With that feeling, that certainty that I was a girl? That was when I was four. I had told my parents I was a girl too, like my best friend, and I was told in no uncertain terms that it couldn't be, as I had external plumbing. My child mind processed this and figured out an answer. If that was all that was separating me from being a girl, the I could fix that. I could remove the offending appendage. So I tried. With a toothbrush. My dad laughed about it at the time, but really, who's laughing now dad?
Until I left the house at 18, whenever I had a chance to be alone, I'd dress up. It calmed me. When I looked in the mirror, I felt like I seeing the me I was supposed to be. I was very careful to hide it after being punished the few times I was caught. I had grown up in the church and was taught that I was something of an abomination. I prayed at night for god to fix this, to make me a physical girl. It never happened.
When I was 10, I was sexually assaulted by an older boy. It messed with my head for a very long time. I was very ashamed, and felt it was my fault.
At 18, I had to leave the house. I chose the military. I mean, if I'm a boy, shouldn't I learn how to be a man? My dad was particularly pleased with that choice. All it did was teach me to bury what I felt very deep inside of me. I did my best to be the best "man" I could be. Got married at 26, we had 2 boys not long afterwards. But I kept dressing when I was alone. I felt like a freak. I'd throw all my clothes away, feel disgusted with myself, and swear to never do it again. And yet I would.
After 21 years of service, I retired. Shortly after my family left for Georgia, I found myself alone in Texas. I dressed. Then in November 2014, a close friend died. I dressed, cried for 3 days, didn't leave the house. Weeks afterward, I wondered why that was my response. Why did I resort to dressing up? As it turned out, it wasn't about the clothes at all.
I finally saw a gender therapist May 2015, after a lot of internet research and a LOT of soul searching. Telling her I had "gender issues" (as I blurted out), was incredibly hard, but in retrospect, the best thing I could have done for myself. I started HRT a couple months later.
It's been a year and a half. I'm fortunate that I work somewhere I am accepted. The group of girls I socialize with have been instrumental in helping me come out of my shell. I'm honestly happy. I'm so very glad I didn't let fear make my choice for me.
