In the Beginning

There was naught but darkness. Then God put up a disco ball and had a wild drunken party.

So here is where we start to slow down. We leave childhood behind. I'm officially a teenager. One with veins pumped full of estrogen no less. The estrogen was quite a good feeling at that. Calming.. like it belonged. Delicious, delicious estrogen. I'm not sure I would be sane without it. Ok, so I'm not sane, but I would be even less sane.

Of course it wasn't just happily ever after. There was a whole mountain of things I hadn't considered. I was very anxious to dive head first.. damn the torpedoes. I could have easily passed as an underdeveloped girl with my hair grown out. Luckily my mom had her head on her shoulders. She wouldn't buy me anything unless more time had passed. When I was ready to go full on girl. I'd be going gender neutral as much as possible.. wither I liked it or not.

I was heart broken. So close yet so far. To come all that way only to face setback. I knew just showing up at school as a girl was a bad idea, but I was still upset. Only a matter of time though. Only a matter of time. Still, it wasn't all bad. I was aloud to start growing my hair out, and I was never going to have to suffer a regular male puberty.

Still, it was only delaying the inevitable. D-day would come no matter what I did. I'd reach the point where I couldn't hide behind anything clothing choice. Questions would be asked, and the immaturity of the average middle schooler would kick in. I could only fly under the radar for so long. Though the further away that was the better. Eventually I came to terms with this. As much as I wanted it.. I didn't need to put myself in front of the firing squad. School wasn't going to last my whole life. The longer I could hold out the less I had to suffer.

I didn't have to go totally without though. I was able to get away with not getting a haircut. My hair grew like a WEED too. It always has. In no time I was deflecting questions about my hair. I was letting it grow? Why? No one teased me over it, thankfully. I simply said it was something I wanted to try. No one pushed me more than that. Though, I was getting a little annoyed after the millionth time of asking. No one teased me, but EVERYONE asked sooner or later. The few compliments I got were nice though. I don't think they realized how good that felt either. People liked my hair long. It looked good.. it suited me.

Stimpy> JOOOOOY!
Ren> *Whap* Quiet you fool!

At times I could tell myself I already looked like a girl.. or could pass for one easily if everyone didn't already know me as a boy. That helped me a lot, and I fantasized just that all the time. I was already there.. I just wasn't the type of girl to go super girly. I did enjoy the simple act of pretending I was just another girl in class. One would be amazed at how much expectation goes into the perception of how you look. It's easier to fool people into thinking you are another gender if no one knows better. They'll take it at face value. They'll unknowingly overlook the proof staring them in the face. It's actually kind of strange how much overlap their can be in the genders in this respect. I notice it all the time(I unknowingly trained myself in this while obsessing over my own looks.. if you look up Vanity my picture should be right there). Real men with less than manly features that no one notices. Beautiful women that, if you focus on the right features, could be men in drag!

What you expect alters what you see. I probably could have pulled it off, but it would have been a nightmare. The reactions. The paperwork. The paperwork. Did I mention the paperwork?

Coming out..

Angst angst angst.

Yeah, we are skipping ahead a lot for now, but again there isn't much to say. I did a lot of worrying about coming out. I was on the verge of telling my mom so many times. I mean I could feel the words forming in my mouth, but I could never do it under my own power. I knew how my parents would feel. My mother's feelings came out on the subject because of a day time talk show. Yeah, my teen is a transsexual or something like that. She.. didn't approve.. to put it mildly.

So how did it happen? I'm only 22 now, and I am already as feminine as I'm getting.

Well, somehow or another I landed in the one place I needed to be for this. My regular doctor made me take a survey, and I showed some clear signs of depression. So off to the crazy person's doctor to get my head checked. It was your ordinary first appointment. Just go in and give a basic rundown of what was happening and how I thought. The guy had probably done it a million times. He just had to ask that question though.

"Have you ever contemplated suicide?"

It broke my brain. Up until that moment I was calmly, if very timidly, giving my answers. I became absolutely hysterical. The tears wouldn't stop. I said yes, I had, as coherently as I could manage while bawling my eyes out. I didn't stop there. I told him everything.

Everything.

My mouth was running itself. I couldn't stop. My mom had been sitting in(me not even being a teenager yet.. I was nervous about seeing him alone). Imagine her shock when it all came out. I not only hated being a boy as intensely as I was capable of, it contributed to an attempt to take my own life that she had never been aware of. I don't really remember what she was doing. I wasn't able to pay attention to much that was around me. I imagine she was absolutely terrified. I'm my parent's only child.. and a miracle of science at that. They shouldn't have had me, and they could have lost me without ever knowing something was wrong. Sure, I was naturally a shy little thing, but that? I can say now I am genuinely sorry I did that to her. I'm starting to cry just thinking about putting her through that kind of thing.

So, yeah, I was an absolute mess. I had to be brought in again for more evaluation. They had to be doubly sure what this was. Most people came out when they are already living alone. A child that knew this about them self.. and one that was that mature and self-aware.. was unusual. It was more than slightly nerve wracking. I had no idea what I would do if the hammer came down and they said no.. I didn't really want to be a girl. That I could never have my dream.

My parents handled it marvelously. I'd guess the prospect of losing your only child was scary. I know parents of trans children feel like they are losing a child and gaining another, but my parents faced the possibility I could kill myself. They weren't losing a child. They were saving one. My mother felt like that at least. My father I don't know quite so well, but I imagine mother put her foot down with him while I wasn't around(yeah, who wore the pants in the family?). I just know they never rejected my decision in the open. Now that the rush is over.. I have the strong desire to ask them what was going through their minds. I know they love and accept me. I don't need to know that. I just want to know what went unsaid. I know they must have bit their tongues hard.. for my sake.

Now, it wasn't quite that easy. I did have to do a lot of hoop jumping before I got any sort of treatment(namely visit after visit to talk about stuff), and even then they didn't just hand me a bottle of estrogen. I was still fairly young. However, I did manage to get a medication to hold back the puberty beast. I'd prevent me from feeling any effects from testosterone should it decide to go to town on my body. It gave me more time to be sure of what I was doing.. and let me get into a more safe range for beginning treatment.

I was going to make this my next post, but it would have been too short for me to be satisfied with. I didn't have to wait long to start more. Every day waiting felt like an eternity at the time, but in retrospect I was on the real deal pretty quickly. I was always worried they'd say no.. or I suddenly wouldn't be aloud. Any thing that I could think of to come between me and being a girl.

By now I was in Junior High.. or Middle school. The name got changed from Junior to Middle in 8th grade. I was overjoyed when I finally got to start. I was giddy with excitement from the moment I got the ok. Containing myself in school was a chore. I was doing it.. I was going to be a girl! It was very odd because it was near my birthday. It was like a birthday present. I went in a child.. and came out a teenage girl... well almost. It was a very good birthday gift at any rate.

Now, obviously I am a standout case in many respects. I got help very early, but it doesn't end there. I hit the genetic jackpot. I'm naturally short and shrimpy. I think 5'3'' is even short for a girl these days. I'm not sure it stops there though. Kids here bloom early.. boys and girls(something's in the water! AHH!). Certain.. uh.. goings on downstairs make me think I was already being clawed at by puberty. I was getting signs before I was ten, actually(though barely before then). I probably should have been further along than I was. Girls were already looking like girls and boys like boys pretty quick. I was behind.. maybe even a little girly already.

Now.. I could have been a late bloomer.. but the specifics make me suspicious of a condition I have heard of recently. A friend of mine actually has it. It's an insensitivity to male hormones and an overproduction of female ones. I honestly wouldn't be surprised. I'm already a pile of various medical conditions.. mental and physical. What is one more? At least that one helped me. Not that it matters anymore, but I do have a natural curiosity.

It's all pretty unbelievable. Even to me. Not to mention downright unfair. It's like the perfect storm... or something. No one should have to put up with two puberties.

A Godsend

AOL 3.0. That was my first internet experience. I don't remember quite how I convinced my mother to get the internet, but one of friends was on it. That meant I had to have it too. He helped me set up my account and helped me set up my first name. In no time at all I was exposed to the wonders of the internet.

I experienced many things.. including all too easy to obtain porn.. and role playing. Both of which I still enjoy.

*Cough*

I don't remember how it happened. I think I was searching for porn.. or maybe not. Though that is the most likely scenario. I had become interested in the phenomenon of "chicks with dicks" and "shemales". I honestly don't remember. I just remember seeing the link that would change my life. It was an online diary. One now famous in the trans community. It was the story of a man that had become a woman. It recounted every detail of his childhood right up to the day. He was more than twice my age when he started transition. I was enthralled by this person's story. I remember exactly how my heart felt like it was going to pop out of my chest. The way my jaw was slightly slack while I read it. How I felt short of breath no matter how much I breathed. The amazing revelation that washed over my being.

This was me.

Every feeling described. Every desire expressed. Every hope, every dream, and every sorrow. I shared them all. I suddenly knew what I was. I knew what could be done. I knew there was hope. It was like part of me was suddenly complete. I was a transsexual. That was the name for it, and I could be a girl. It was almost like a guide of how to go about getting what I wanted. I was stuck to my computer screen. My every free moment from then on was spent reading this diary. Finding out about this person that was so like me and had achieved everything I had ever wanted.

Pure joy. That's what it was. At least for a short time. I remember the pictures. One was of her in a swimsuit. It was an amazing picture. You never would have known. This person was a woman in every way. A pretty face.. curves.. even hips. If this person achieved so much so late in life.. there was certainly hope for me while I was still so young.

My life would never be the same again.



Ok, so that was a bit too dramatic, yes? It really did change my life. It's a feeling I can't quite describe, but it is one I will never forget. I remember the strange sensation in my skin. A moment of perfect clarity. Like a secret of the universe decided to reveal itself to me. It was the beginning of the end of my life as a boy, I guess you could say.

After this I scoured the internet. I looked up everything I could on this. Hormones.. their effects.. what to expect. What procedures could be done. I even found a few things on how to pass easier(though they wouldn't be useful for a few more years). I told myself I'd do it. I wouldn't be like all these other people that waited so long to come out. I was terrified by puberty.

A horrible stereotype

By horrible I mean that I did the overly stereotypical things for a gender confused boy. This fast forwards a bit.. closer to puberty... but not quite. Dangerously close to when I finally came out. I started to become more and more aware of what was in store for me and girls. Of course that meant being a girl became more important to me. I was nearing what felt like a point of no return.

I didn't do anything spectacularly different from the norm. Like any other boy in my position, I did the one thing I could think of to help ease my desire to be a girl. I snitched my mom's things from time to time and dressed up.

For the longest time I had one of her sports bras. I used that because it fit more easily than anything else(it stretched!). A sports bra was also easier to pad to my desire than a typical bra. My mother is quite.. endowed. Filling up normal cups would have looked ridiculous. Alright, more ridiculous than a little boy wearing a stuffed sports bra. I'd fill it up a bit and posed in front of a mirror. I'd do this a lot. Whenever I was left alone? I'd take it out of where I hid it and put it on. Late at night when I was the only one awake? I'd take the chance that I wouldn't be disturbed. Being at separate ends of the house helped this(it was a big house.. one floor but lots of space). It was fun, I admit. I wanted to grow my own pair one day. A few times I even wore it.. the whole day. I'd wear a nice loose shirt over it. One that had a tight collar too. It was.. thrilling. I was so happy. Doing it felt natural.. like I should have been doing it. At the time I wished I had the nerve to do it all the time.. maybe even wear it to school(though I never did). I never got caught. My mother still doesn't know I ever did that.

While I was posing in front of the mirror, I participated in another overly stereotypical activity. This one started further away from puberty, but I still didn't start it till I was closing in. I'd take a towel and put it over my head as if it were long hair. It was shamefully silly, but I couldn't resist.

So picture it. A prepubescent boy standing in the bathroom in a padded sports bra wearing a towel on his head. It actually makes me laugh thinking back. It was.. just.. absurd. A few times I even took the chance to add mascara and lipstick. She knew about that simply from how her makeup was moved, but I think she chalked it up to normal curiosity over mother's girly stuff.

There was once, and only once, that I got brave enough to take an entire dress. I put it on and stuffed up the bosom. Hold your breath because you might not believe what I did next. I walked around the entire house. OUTSIDE. It was the dead of night so no one saw me, but I nearly died from the anxiety. I was trying to prove something to myself that night. I could do it. I could be a girl if I tried. It was a test of sorts. If I couldn't muster up the strength to walk outside with that on and risk being caught, I'd never be a girl.

But I did, and look at where I am now.

Thus we leave my early childhood behind. All that could be said has been. It was an uneventful time.. at least concerning my identity as a girl. I could relate stories of how I was picked on all day because other kids could sense I wasn't normal, but that is unnecessary. I was only young enough to understand I wanted to be a girl. I didn't know how to go about it. I didn't know what, exactly, was wrong with me. I couldn't do anything but dream the sweet dreams.

More Than Two Choices

If you haven't read the previous post then please do so now. It contains an important point I wanted to get across before saying this. I didn't want the messages to get confused.

Male or female. For most it is one or the other, but it isn't that simple. It'd be nice if it were, wouldn't it? It's more of a sliding scale of sorts. There are manly men... not so manly men. Women that act like men. Of course then you get into the women that have become men, and the men that have become women. Even if you don't decide to grow a pair of boobs(or get them removed) you probably don't fit perfectly on either end. Barriers have continued to degrade over the decades. The lines become less and less clear. Traditional roles have all but disappeared. We're reaching the point where we can't really say what a man or woman should be. The old stereotypes can get downright offensive in this day and age.

I am WOMAN. Hear me ROAR. That was the gist of the previous post. I am a woman. No matter what you think of my choice, treat me as a woman. That is the only thing I ask. That is all I want. To be one of the girls. I might have the wrong thing between my legs, but I am still like any other woman. Well, not quite. It's a complicated issue. I'm not like any other woman. I talk the talk. I walk the walk, but I am still not quite like any other girl. My experiences are unique. Anyone happy with their gender wouldn't understand what I went through.. just as I couldn't understand being happy with how I was made. I'm a strange mix of man and woman. I'm something different altogether.

I actually.. kind of like it. Don't get me wrong. I don't regret my path till now. It was hard, but I'd do it all again. I like where I am. I like how I am treated like any other woman. I wouldn't have it any other way. I hated having to struggle to fill the male role. I hated having to pretend. I hated not living up to expectations of me. It was horrible. I wouldn't wish it on anyone. Still, over time I've become attached to the idea of being a chick with a little something extra. When I started I thought I would go all the way. I'd get it cut off and a hole put in its place, but I've found that I am enjoying where I am now. Rather than striving and struggling to fit the perfect female image.. I've managed to find some place in the middle that I am comfortable being at. Much more woman than man, but still not all the way. I'm a strange and unique creature, and that suits me just fine. I'm not the only one either. More and more find more comfort in dancing in the middle rather than off to one side.

You don't have to change anything about yourself physically. You merely need to stop hiding your own quirks. Don't be afraid to walk down that doll isle. Won't you join me in the fun? Dancing in that strange land in between. Enjoying the fine line that separates the two.

Then again, everyone has something that makes them unique. Not every girl is the same. Not every man is the same. Maybe this is just what makes me special?

Gender and Sex

There is a difference between the two.

Sex is only what is between the legs. No more. No less. Gender has more to do with the person as a whole. It is not only the attitude and the mind of the person, but it is also secondary sexual characteristics(such as breasts). The body as a whole as well as the mind.

Take me. I look like a woman. I talk like a woman. I think like a woman. I expect to be, and enjoy being, treated as a woman. My head's always been wired up female. I am female in every way that matters. I am a woman now. I just happen to have the wrong thing jammed between my legs. Female in mind and body. Just with something extra.

Consider it like this. You have a being that is indistinguishable from a woman in every aspect except one. This being thinks, talks, walks, and looks like a woman. You'd call this being a woman, right? That would be the appropriate way to treat this being. You don't have to find her sexually appealing, but it is a woman.

It's something I still struggle with from time to time. I have no intention of undergoing sex reassignment surgery. The satisfaction I would gain doesn't outweigh the risks. There is every chance I would end up with nothing at all for the pain and expense. I don't hate my own dick so much that I would risk ending up with one non functioning hole. Worse things could happen too, and I can't reverse the decision. I look like a woman, and I am treated like one. Those are my two greatest desires. Having a hole to stick things in is low on the list of priorities. In the end that is all it is. A hole to cram things in. It isn't the be all or end all of womanhood. It's the least important thing.

Still, there are those that do not like my lifestyle, and even those in the trans community itself, that would use this fact to denounce any right I have to being treated in the way that I want and rip my claim to womanhood from my grasp. The first group I can understand. They don't like it.. or it scares them. They'll use any excuse they can find to call me wrong. The ones I really don't get though.. the ones I don't get are the trans elite. The ones that undergo SRS and do an about face and denounce anyone that doesn't do the exactly what they did. You aren't really a woman unless you have some random hole in your body. I don't get them. I won't say all do this.. or even most.. but they are there. I can ignore the folks that just refuse to learn about things and instead shun anything different. We all have to deal with that type in life, but that is just.. a betrayal. It hurts coming from anyone, but that hurts more.

Then there are those that say I can't give birth. That is what makes a vagina so important to womanhood. The ability to give birth. Even surgery can't give me that. Oh really? Is that the be all end all? There are many women unable to give birth for one reason or another, and many that choose not to. Does this make any of them men..? Does it make them lesser women? Of course not.

Yeah, my sex is male, but my gender is female. I am a woman. You don't have to like my choice. You don't have to find the prospect of a girl with a dick sexually exciting, but I am a woman. All I ask is to be treated as one.