Today of all days

This weekend was kind of lame. I pulled weeds, cleaned house, worried about the future. There was a nice bright spot in all of this though.

My older son went to his first homecoming dance with his first girlfriend. I met her and she is adorable. My son is very lucky to have found her. This dance also brought my wife and daughter together to plan his outfit and make the corsage. They both worked up to the last minute to make things perfect. My wife hemmed his pants like a possessed seamstress. My daughter worked frantically on the corsage for two days. It was amazing, simple looking yet complex and elegant at the same time. The girlfriend loved all of it. Mission accomplished.

I got to drive my son to meet his date at her father’s house. This scared me a little. I would be meeting the father of his date in a dad to dad situation. A situation made more difficult by the fact that I look more like mom. My wife dreads these things too. She thinks that the mothers and fathers of my kids’ friends or dates may not want their children associating with my because of me. Well this meeting went pretty good. I did find myself at times falling into the old ‘guy’ self again. It was a little weird trying to talk about our high school days. We were both trying to romanticize a time in both our lives which was probably more awkward and geeky than either of us cared to admit.

While we were trying to forget our geeky school pasts; our children were embracing theirs. For them geek is not a stigma. They can both love video games and sci fi movies and not be shunned for it. Our kids take on their right to get dressed up and go dancing. Boy, they look good doing it too.

So here were two kids nervous at the prospect of having their first formal date. I remember the butterflies in my stomach the first (and only) dance I went to. Her hands were shaking a bit trying to pin on his buttoneer. His hands almost refused to function trying to tie her corsage on her wrist. It was an adorable seen. The obligatory pictures were taken amid smiles and nervous laughter. In the end there stood a cute young couple and two beaming fathers. I can say at that moment I was proud to be a dad.

I relinquished my son into their care and drove home. I couldn’t wait to get home and show my wife the pictures. She had to hear about how handsome our son looked and how beautiful and radiant his girlfriend looked. At a stop light about halfway home a thought struck me. If two geeky kids can date and hang out without fear of getting bullied or teased how long would it be before gay or trans kids will be afforded the same freedom? The way things are going in our society I can see a time where a trans boy could attend the same dance with his cis girlfriend. Or even a trans girl going with her lesbian girlfriend. I hope that time is not too far away.

Should I end this?

I thought of quitting this blog today. Actually the last few days. In fact I have had many thoughts about quitting everything. Things have just gone too wrong for me.

Saturday, I agreed to help a friend from my support group buy some outfits. She had a wonderful time and got some amazing dresses. I was glad I could help in some way. No one did anything like that for me and I wasn’t going to let someone else have to go through what I did.

As a result of leaving to help my friend, my wife got pissed off at me. We took too long. My phone died and I didn’t get her frantic texts. A lot of things happened that fall squarely on my shoulders. I own my mistakes and have to live with the consequences. In the process I may have destroyed a lot of what I have worked to preserve.

All this combined with one of the worst Mondays in history. I made a mistake. I messed up on a large order at work. For some reason I took this one hard, really hard. Most of the day was spent in a cloud of despair. Add to this a newfound sensitivity to pronouns and I was a wreck.

I am feeling isolated and abandoned. I wonder if the words I write are worth it. If they make a difference.

Too many of my friends come and go. Relationships change even more than I am. My hormones are starting to effect me more. Physically as well as mentally. In some ways the changes of the past year and a half mean nothing compared to this. I know I can handle what they are doing to me. I just don’t know if I can handle what those changes are doing to everyone else in my life. I embraced change in order to survive; in the process I am forcing change on all who come in contact with me. That’s a heavy burden I was not prepared to take on. For the first time since I accepted transition I fear the future.

I can’t quit though. I might lose too much if myself if I do. In the end I might be all that is left.

The big E and other things

I saw my Endo earlier this week. He looked me over and asked how I was. I said ok, except for a cracked tooth that had started to hurt really bad. We talked a bit about my transition to this point. He asked about my wife and kids. I didn’t lie. I said things have been strained between my wife and I. We have been dealing with stuff related to the kids and the house so we haven’t talked a lot about our situation. He asked about my meds and I let him know I have been sticking strictly to my dosages. No self experimentation. I didn’t want to skew my baseline test results.

Yay, my test results… I had been upped to 2mg estradiol and dropped to 100mg spiro for the last 3 1/2 weeks. This was supposed to be my first major test. The first result he looked at was my general blood chemistry. I am a little anemic and the white cell count was elevated a bit. We chalked that up to a possible infection in my tooth. Then he checked the testosterone readings. 202, below normal for a genetic male. Woohoo! I dropped almost a hundred points from when I was on 200mg spiro. Progress. He mentioned upping me back to 200mg, but decided to keep me the same for another month. Then the estrogen results. He paused and actually said ‘wow’. “Your body seems to absorb estrogen very well. I have some patients on higher dosages that don’t have close to your results.” 375 was my score. I’m not sure where that puts me but it’s way higher than he expected. My friend Sarah once said I would be dangerous when I started E. She was right. My doctor promptly said he would authorize doubling my estradiol dosage to 4mg. I agreed. I go back in a month for another blood test for maintenance.

You are probably wondering about all the effects I’m getting. The pores on my face have closed a bit more and my face is really starting to smooth out. Some of the hair growth on my body has slowed down or disappeared. The hair on my head is wavier, thicker and a whole lot softer. I wish it was a bit longer though. I have trouble pinning it back so it stays out of my eyes. My finger nails seem to grow a bit faster but they crack easier. My eyesight has changed somewhat. I may need new glasses depending on how the new doses effect my eyes. Emotionally I am still in a place where I feel calm. I have not turned into the emotional wreck everybody told me I would. Finally what everybody really wants to know about, my breasts. Yes they have grown again. For a while they seemed to go dormant. I have gotten another half inch in my chest plus they started to even out more. The circumference is a tad larger too. Now they are starting to look like proper breasts and not ‘man boobs’.Hurray! Unfortunately they are getting harder to hide.

This morning I had to get a root canal on that cracked tooth. Yup, it was infected. I love my new dentist. She is amazing and very caring. The office staff is the most professional and friendly I have ever seen. They treated me nicely and with respect. Everyone used all the correct pronouns! To them I was just another female patient. I have never enjoyed going to the dentist but this has come the closest.

Tonight I got a message from a woman who attends my trans support group. She is just starting out and in fact came to our last meeting presenting as female for the first time in public. She is very shy and has trouble shopping for clothes. She asked me if I would like to go with her sometime soon. Oh hell yes! I may be out of money this month but I’m not going to turn down a chance to window shop for myself and lend support to a friend. I’m wondering though how I suddenly became some trans fashion icon. Lately I have been getting nice comments on my clothing. To me it’s nothing special, kind of plain really. A few nice blouses, some t’s and cami’s, couple dresses, and pencil skirts. I practically live in pencil skirts. Oh, of course one all purpose pair of skinny jeans. Ignore the fuschia miniskirt, please.

It’s strange. I now have more friends than before my transition. Just being able to be myself has made that very easy. If this was truly an act or a phase I don’t think that would be possible. It wasn’t possible for me before. I had only a few close friends and most of those were from work. They knew me better than most because of my work which in turn made them want to get to know me better. Nowadays people like me because the real me is more accessible. People don’t always have to meet me in one circumstance and then decide to take the relationship further. It really helps to be happy, truly happy with myself. Others sense that and are drawn to it. I always felt broken, unlike able , unlovable. You had to drag me out of my shell to decide whether or not you could take being my friend.

The new me is quite a bit nicer and easier to get along with. I still have one huge character flaw though. Get me talking and I can’t stop. Which is why I’m stopping here before I butcher this post some more 🙂

Gains and losses

I mentioned why I had taken the picture in a previous post. A couple things had been going on at the time. For one it was casual Friday. Two the purple top actually makes it look like I have a bit more cleavage than the tiny bit I have. Three it was my wife’s birthday. Four, at the very last minute I got a call from an old friend to meet for lunch.

I was planning on taking my wife and kids to a restaurant she likes to celebrate. So, I had brought a simple lunch and didn’t bother with makeup since I wasn’t going anywhere. Then I get the call. I had told my friend about my gender issues before I started dressing at work. He had said if it made me happy it was ok with him. I was still his friend. How many times had I heard that in the past year and had those same friends disappear or worse.

I took a short break and did a quick makeup job. Something I have gotten quite good at. My friend had no idea how far I have gotten in my transition and I didn’t want to go feeling half dressed. I try very hard to avoid the man in a dress image when meeting people for the first time as the real me. I did however forewarn him that I wasn’t going to look the same as he remembered. I know how shocking it can be sometimes and I wanted to give him an out. I took the picture I posted earlier and sent it off to another friend for her opinion. She said I looked great and wished me luck. By the time I got back to my desk I was trembling. The last time I was that nervous I was meeting my aunt and uncle for the first time as Rachel.

Well I met him at our favorite fish taco place and we sat down. I knew he was a bit surprised that I looked like a woman and not like a person pretending. We got the pleasantries over with and he asked the inevitable “Are you happy?” question. I said yes. He nodded, gave me a smile and we continued on like old times. The lunch was a success. At the same time I was ma’amed and miss’ed the whole type by the staff. It felt good.

That was my gain. I gained my old friend’s acceptance. He has always been very conservative and I was pleasantly surprised at how much he cares for me and my family as I go through my transition. He is truly a special friend.

Now my loss. I have/had a friend that I met through this blog. We became very and corresponded frequently. Something quite difficult considering we have a 10 hour time difference to contend with. I’m not sure if I said or did something but we have not conversed for weeks now. I have analyzed everything and I am not sure what happened. I do blame myself, I always do. Hard habit to break. I do miss her deeply. I know she is doing fairly well do to her Facebook status.

I can never repay her for the advice and wisdom she has imparted on me. We have shared much. This woman has made me laugh and cry. She opened my eyes to a culture I found I knew very little about. I have held nothing back and she pulled no punches. I cannot count the times she pulled me back to reality from despair or foolishness.

I hope she’ll read this, maybe she won’t. I do dread a day when I get on Facebook to find I have been unfriended. This might seem kind of immature or banal. But I know how hard to take that can be. I have been trying to help another friend through this very thing. When the easiest way to keep in touch with a friend is social media to have that conduit cut can be devastating. It seems so final.

We as trans people expect loss. It’s part of the process. Sometimes that loss can be unexpected. And that makes it all the more difficult to accept. My friend has jumped so many hurdles this past year. Many with me not far behind. We both have many more to go. I send my love and gratitude out to her. Godspeed Sarah.

To my wife this Mother’s Day

(To my readers, I apologize for posting this a few days late)

I got up this morning planning on writing something eloquent. Becky Kent beat me to it 🙂 . http://ihaterollercoasters.wordpress.com/

However I want to add something about my wife. We met over 27 years ago. She was my first true love. We met at work, I was in the electronics department and she sold diamond jewelry. It didn’t hurt that we were two of the most senior employees not only in our departments but the whole store. People came and went but we endured. It was commitment to a job even though at times was in no way fun and loyalty to the company which we both liked. This would be a hallmark of our future relationship.

We dated for five years before getting married. We are both Catholic and we wanted to make sure our decision was right since divorce was not an option. So on the fifth anniversary of our first date we were married.

Our marriage had ups and downs like any marriage but we kept our love and commitment alive. This was truly the happiest time of my life. I finally found a woman that loved me for just being me. Please note that at this time I was not aware that I was a transexual.

Four years and four months after our marriage was the birth of our daughter. Her birth was one of the most amazing things I have ever witnessed. I held her in my arms for the first time and couldn’t believe that she was ours. My wife and I looked into each others eyes and we cried joyous tears together. This scene would happen twice again with the births of our two sons. Becoming a father had a profound effect on me. I had a family to support. I also had the immense responsibility of helping raise three children. I would be tasked with teaching my boys how to be men and my daughter in how to deal with men. This was one task I really did not feel qualified for.

Watching my wife give birth was incredible. She endured all those months of having our children grow inside her only to be faced with the trauma and pain of childbirth. What amazes me to this day, is that after knowing what she experienced the first time, she gladly did it twice more. Having gone through some of the physical pain and suffering I have gone through I do not know if I could have done the same. One feeling I didn’t expect though was the strange pang of regret that I couldn’t give birth. The feeling of sadness that I could never feel a life start and grow inside me too.

My wife has done a superhuman job raising our children. They are healthy and happy. Our kids know that she can fix the booboo’s and hug away the sadness. Their mother will stand up for them and fight like a tigress to protect them. She is also the “cool Mom”. Our kid’s friends always want to come to our house. (It is also known as the house you want to be invited to dinner at) My daughter’s boyfriend is constantly telling her that she is so lucky having a mom like hers. My wife has been accused by other mothers that she is to lenient and too permissive. In fact she is not. My kids know they have freedom to explore and figure out who they are and where they fit in this world. But they also know there are rules and if they break them there will be consequences.

My daughter has been dying her mom’s hair for a few years now. I am not sure how she did it but my daughter talked her onto dying her hair purple. Understand that my wife has been a bit of an outsider among the other moms at my kid’s school. She doesn’t quite fit into the soccer mom mold. Now she gets stares and nasty looks just for having purple hair. She is “That Mom” and my wife revels in it. One mother actually confronted her about it. My wife calmly turned to her and said “you obviously have never done anything to spice up your life, you should try it sometime”. This is why I love her so much. Her new attitude also gives me hope. My wife is learning to cope with being different, a skill that would be helpful if we are to stay together after my transition.

I can honestly say I love my wife more than ever. I also know she loves me even though she sometimes struggles with not seeing her husband anymore. She has been a fantastic wife and an even better mom. I still consider myself truly blessed to have shared my life with her.

Addendum:
I was leaving work last Friday and one of the women here wished me a Happy Mother’s Day. I said,”but I’m not my kids mother”. She said “Really? You sure look like their mom!”. I know she was trying to acknowledge me as a woman with kids but I am not their mother. Like Becky, I too do not have the hubris to consider myself their mom. I did not give birth to them. If I were not their biological father maybe it would be different. But, I am their Dad, always was, always will be. And I am proud of that fact. There are a number of women in the trans community that will disagree with me. Some loudly and angrily. I saw a documentary where Dr Marcy Bowers even said that we (transwomen that allowed their children to call them Dad) were undermining the struggle of transwomen to be accepted as females. I wish I had the actual quote but this is very close. Well, I feel the way I feel and I am not alone, enough said.

As for Mother’s Day itself. We had a grand time. My wife woke up in my arms. Just us together, husband and wife even though I wasn’t looking much like a husband. In fact she misunderstood something I said and we both erupted with laughter. We turned something that before would have had her in tears into a harmless joke that only a couple that was going through transition would understand. Later the kids and I took mom out to buy ice skates (no mean feat in Southern California). My wife has wanted new skates for years. We also spent a glorious couple of hours on the ice. I can honestly say that this was the best Mother’s Day my wife has had in several years. Seeing her out there gliding around with a huge grin on her face made it all worth while.

To my wife and the mother of my children: Happy Mother’s Day with all my love.
Your husband,
-Rachel.

With friends like this…

I wasn’t sure that I wanted to post this. For the last year I have had mixed reactions to my coming out as trans. Most people have been very cool about it. Some have had mixed feelings. A small number have said outright that they can’t deal with it. This bothered me for a while but I learned to deal with it. Not everyone can accept a friend changing their gender. This post is not about them.

It’s about one person. I have known this individual for more than 12 years. We have had our differences at times and that has led to some lively exchanges. He, and this is important, HE has had an interesting life. His experiences have made him very accepting of all kinds of people and lifestyles.

So when I came out to him I expected him to be supportive of my choice. He was very supportive. Even when he saw me dressed the first time he didn’t even blink. He told me it didn’t matter if I was in pants or a skirt. I would always be his friend.

Well, we meet very so often for lunch. We usually eat outdoors if possible which I enjoy a lot. He has never acted uncomfortable around me and is not afraid to be seen in public with me. I tend to use these visits to get a bit dolled up for lunch.

The other day we decided to meet a bit earlier than usual and I ended up a few minutes late. My friend had already bought his food and was waiting at an outside table. I walked up and gave him a little wave as I went in to get my lunch. He gave me a strange little smile as I went through the door.

I came back out and sat down across from him. Then he admitted that he didn’t recognize me when I went in. We went through the usual chit chat about our families and jobs. Then he asked about how my transition was going and if things calmed down at work. I said they had and we chatted some more. The topic of my going to the GLAAD awards came up and he wanted to see pictures.

I was flipping through a number of pictures on my phone, many are not arranged in order. I will never say what picture he asked me to stop at it is not important. I will say there was a trans person in that picture. That person is someone I consider a dear friend an I have never written about them here before. That person also passes remarkably well. This too is important.

Other than writing about my thoughts of suicide this will be the hardest thing I have ever put down to paper either real or electronic. My ‘friend’ pointed at the picture and said “what’s his story”. With barely contained rage I said ‘HER!, her story’. I refused to say anything further about her. This man sitting across from said something I still cannot believe. I quote: “Him/her what’s the difference? Either way I would be correct.” I have never wanted to hit another person for any reason. However, right then and there I really truly wanted to smack him right in the face. I went to get up
And leave and he apologized. He said I was over reacting. I said he was insensitive. Things didn’t get any better and I had to go. I just wanted to put as much distance away from that place as possible.

I am still terribly upset when I think of this. He was supposed to be my friend. He claimed he understood when I talked about my trans feelings. It was all bullshit. Pure and simple. He only accepted me because I was his friend. He doesn’t believe that we trans persons as a group can DEMAND that we be addressed by our true gender. Just as he doesn’t think that LGBT people can DEMAND equal treatment. In his opinion the constitution has already given us those rights. We just have to wait for the rest of the people in this country to get with the program. We as a group are NOT special and we cannot require that there be specific laws just to protect OUR rights over his. True we do have rights granted to all of us in the constitution. But those rights never seem to apply to us because we are different. If everyone is truly equal in this country why did we have to pass specific laws that gave equality to black people. Why did they have to fight for their civil rights? And why can’t LGBT people fight for theirs.

In the past year my eyes were opened to new ideas and new people. I had never really had a conversation with a gay or lesbian. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought I would be in an argument with a transexual and a crossdresser. And yet I call these people my friends. We share a struggle. We just want to be treated fairly and equally. Yet there are people out there who themselves liberal and open minded and they are not. They hide their prejudices behind a thin veil of acceptance. Unfortunately I have know one of these people and it really hurts me that I never noticed it before.

One year ago I figured out after a lot of pain and anguish that I was not who I had always thought I was. I had the misfortune to be born with a biochemical defect that gave me a female brain in a body predominantly male in appearance and physiology. I had to accept that I couldn’t continue that way for the rest of my life. Early on when I decide to transition I vowed never to insist or demand that people use feminine pronouns or even my chosen name. I didnt want to have to force others to have to deal with my problem. I just wanted them to understand and accept me. If that meant they still refer to me in a way they felt comfortable I was fine with it. Now, almost 9 months living nearly full time publicly and professionally I am no longer as comfortable as I used to be. This WOMAN has changed HER mind and SHE feels that it’s about time SHE be acknowledged as the WOMAN SHE is. The world can either catch up or be left behind.

Come and go

I was trying to get a hold of a friend that I had met in my trans support group. She didn’t return any of my e-mails or voice mail. I had wanted to find out how she was doing after SRS. I hope she is doing well.

This got me to thinking why so many of us disappear the further along we get in transition. For the most part I think it’s because they have reached their ultimate goal of being their true gender. In the beginning we need all the help and support we can get. Transition is not something anyone can be prepared for. It’s scary and nerve wracking. But, as we get more comfortable with ourselves we gain a lot of strength and courage. Life as trans doesn’t seem so horrible or scary anymore.

We tend to write less or attend less meetings or even have more infrequent appointments with our therapists. Some of our friendships or acquaintances fade away. Many of these relationships are based soley on shared experience. Once we become the man or woman we always were meant to be we just want to get on with our new lives. We create new relationships with others who might never know we are trans. Many go complete stealth. They break all ties to everyone from their old lives. Their lives become a clean slate so they can start anew.

I miss those friends but I can understand why they just go away. However, I have met a few ‘stealthers’ who come back at times. They come back because they thought life would be so much easier after transition and they find that it wasn’t for them. A few had troubles making new friends and relationships because they live in constant fear that someone will find out about their pasts. They buried that past so deep that they isolate themselves from the very life they wanted to live.

I applaud those that do stay somewhat active in the community. You are examples to those just starting the discovery process. Your lives help inspire those that might be afraid about life after transition. You are proof that it does get better and life goes on. As for me, I think I owe it to those who come after me to at least be there for them. A kind of payback for all the support and encouragement I received.

I am far from being over with my transition but I have had moments where I’ve thought I had nothing more to say. I felt like moving on and leaving this blog behind. But I can’t bring myself to just abandon what I started. I know that I don’t have millions of readers but I have touched some of you. I can’t just leave you in the middle of your journey even if mine has reached its destination.

I may have started this blog as a crossdresser but I kept the name The Frugal CD even after I realized I was transexual. Why confuse things and make it harder to find me? (note: I do know someone who had to change her blog for various reasons. This was out of necessity not just change of perspective.) So, if anyone reading this happens to be someone who has faded away please drop me a comment sometime. I would like to know that your are ok and that you have found peace and happiness.

Hugs,
-Rachel

The darkest night, thoughts of suicide

This is by far one of the hardest posts I have written. There was no way I could not write it. I owe it to a lot of people.

Last week I was doing the dishes and watching a documentary on the “It Gets Better” project. I looked down into the soapy water and had a thought I haven’t had since I was nineteen. I picked up my favorite 10 inch carving knife and wanted to plunge it in my heart. At that moment nothing seemed better than death.

I rinsed the knife. After drying it off and putting it away I went into the living room and collapsed on the couch. My body was covered in sweat. I don’t remember turning off the video.

The first time I felt like killing myself I was filled with rage and hate. I hated the world and I hated myself. Living just seemed like another torture heaped upon everything else that was going on. A friend from work tried to stop me from getting in my car but I had tuned him out. After that I only remember nearly falling out of my car onto my parents driveway. I have no recollection of what happened in between. My friend told me after that I was hitting speeds of almost 110mph on side streets. Supposedly I ran red lights and stop signs. He said it was a miracle that the traffic in my way seemed to part and let me go by. After that I promised myself no matter how bad things got for me death would never be an option. I seem to remember when I started this blog that ‘never’ is no longer part of my vocabulary. I guess so.

I thought hard about this latest episode while sitting in silence and near darkness. The thing that struck me as the most terrifying thing was the calmness that came over me as I held the knife. No rage, anger, hate, remorse, no emotion at all except a sense of determination. I wondered if this is how a ‘normal’ woman acts before she does the deed. Was it just the lack of testosterone or the rewiring of my brain these past months that made it like this? Needless to say I am still here, and the irony that I was watching the “It Gets Better” video does not escape me. Strangely enough that pesky ‘never’ has creeped back into my lexicon.

In case your wondering what could have possibly drive me to this point, I’ll tell you. Reader’s Digest condensed version:
1. The stress of moving out of our old house into the new one. Too many things to list here.
2. Our ex landlord who we have to sue
3. Our financial situation brought on by the move and our ex landlord.
4. The situation with my father. Being the only surviving member of our family it falls on me to make sure he is taken care of. I now have to sell his house so he can afford to stay in assisted living. Because of his mental state I was not able to explain to him what is going on with me. I wanted desperately to tell him he now has a daughter who is happier than his son was. But I couldn’t and it’s quite possible he wouldn’t remember it anyways.
5. We found out my youngest son has been the target of bullies since the beginning of the school year. I felt particularly responsible because I was not able to read the signs. I had been bullied numerous times when I was young and thought I should know better. So I beat myself up over this.
6. Harassment at work. After nearly 8 months with nothing happening now things have started. I might go on more later but it’s still too painful.
7. And the tiniest of my issues, my decision not to take estrogen.

There are more things too. I just won’t bore anyone by listing them. The harassment is by far the straw that broke the camel’s back. I was crushed by the hatred and betrayal that was heaped on me. My insides were torn out. I fell into a fast spiral of depression that night. Luckily I have good family, friends (Hanalena, I cant forget you) and an inner strength I never had before. They are pulling me through this. Some of you are my readers. And I thank you. The words and thoughts from your comments or blogs have helped me immensely (Sarah 🙂 keep making beautiful music) Either directly or indirectly, our words have impact whether we know it or not. I do have three people I have to acknowledge though. My wife, daughter, and my best friend Becky.

First my wife. She not only gave me three wonderful children but she is responsible for the happiest times in my life. She suffers more with this trans stuff than I do. She’s on the front line watching the changes I am going through. But, even though she doesn’t like it (hates it sometimes) she is still there to give me a hug before we go to bed. That alone says more than words can convey.

Second my daughter. She has grown up to be a woman in the truest sense of the word. On one hand she can be so girly Barbie Dolls blush. On the other, my daughter can stare down a horde of demons and drive them back to Hell. She is feminine and strong. She is also extremely talented. I am in awe of her and so very proud to be her father.

Last but not least dear Becky. She saw right through me when I told her I was ‘just a crossdresser’. Without her support and understanding I might not have found the courage to explore the real me. She is the sister I never had and the best friend I dreamed of having. Becky pulls no punches and doesn’t let me get away with anything. She has been my guide through some fairly treacherous waters. And I have had the pleasure of returning that favor. We met once so long ago as phantoms of our true selves. A chance meeting that I believe was fate. This weekend we finally met again. Two women who shared an embrace that was a long time coming. We finally saw each other as we were meant to. Our true selves devoid of the shells we built to armor ourselves against the world.

Becky has recently found the love of her life, Jannell, and soon she will be a grandmother for the first time. I’m just glad she’s my friend.

Thank you all for saving my life and making it worth living.
-Rachel
A picture 10 years in the making. Me and my best friend Becky.

Feeling left behind revisited

I was looking at a few old posts that seem to be getting a larger than average number of views ( basically more than one, LOL). ‘Feeling left behind’ was one of those. It’s always interesting to look back at things to see where you were at the time.

It may only be a month since I wrote about how slow my transition was going. At the time I was trying to compare myself to other people I know and even some posters on YouTube. All of those people seem like they are just cruising along. Hormones, coming out, electrolysis, going full time, and even surgeries. Everyone was just blowing past me like I was standing still. Well, it was all bullshit.

I have been tearing through my transition. I’ve leapfrogged past too many steps to count. I am not on HRT but my body is doing quite well on blockers alone. A fellow blogger Sarah said “You look so amazing !! Its scary to think how you will change once you are on full HRT. ” It is scary, one look in the mirror tells me that. It’s even scarier to think that later this month I am going to talk to my endocrinologist about starting estrogen.

Last night after my support group meeting a few of us met for dinner. We discussed SRS and what it meant to us. I pointed out that it wasn’t really that important to me. Except for a few things like wearing a bathing suit or going to the gym I really don’t need it to feel like a woman. Plus it may be one of the most important factors in staying with my wife. That to me means more than turning my outy into an inny.

When I look back at the past year I realize that I didn’t follow the normal path of transition. I took shortcuts and risks and have been extremely lucky. I do live nearly full time. I didn’t wait for electrolysis or hormones to take hold before I declared I would be coming to work as a woman. Now after nearly six months everyone at work has accepted it even if some of them still don’t understand me. I am treated as a woman in both good and not so good ways. The other woman compliment me on my outfits and I regularly get invited to lunch with the girls. However, I do get funny stares sometimes. I don’t know a lot of spanish but I can tell that some of our warehouse crew are making unflattering comments when I walk by.

I go out in public quite often. More and more everyday. I’m starting to get ma’amed more often even without really girly clothes, breast forms or makeup. It all feels so natural to me now. Women’s restrooms and changing rooms don’t seem so scary or strange any more.

It all boils down to 8 months of accepting who I am and how I want to spend the rest of my life. 8 months is a really short time to start rebuilding a life after 47 years. Especially a life that is becoming so amazing and full of wonder. It’s been a long time since I have felt so alive. The thing that surprises me the most are the people. My family, friends, sisters, coworkers, and even total strangers. They have been very nice to me. Something I never expected. I have read stories and even personally experienced first hand how badly people can treat trans folk. I have been encouraged and inspired by these people. I have even inspired a few of them. Like my aunt wrote me after I came out to her last week, “Rachel, this is a new world we live in and you can be anyone you want to be. It will all work out.” So far it’s been working out.

Thanksgiving

Today is the Thanksgiving holiday in the states. ( I know there are a few of you reading this in other countries which is why I pointed it out 🙂 ) This also happens to be my first Thanksgiving as a woman. Maybe not in appearance but inside where it matters most.

I have much to be thankful for this year. I have been able to accept who I am as trans and have been able to express myself in significant ways. I am thankful for my coworkers who have been very kind and supportive of my transition. This year I have made tons of friends in the trans community and I am deeply thankful for their insight, support, and just plain kind words when I really needed them.

I am thankful for having Becky as my big sister. Without her I don’t know how I would have made it this far. She is the genie who lives in my phone and always seems to magically be there when I need her most. I am also thankful that I was there for when she needed me.

But mostly I am thankful for my wife and family. Even though my kids are not fully aware of my transness they show me everyday that I have been a good dad. I know they have seen the changes I am going through, and not knowing why, they still love me unconditionally.

And lastly I am so incredibly thankful for my wife. She could have given up and left a number of times this year. She didn’t. She stayed and we talked, yelled, argued, and cried over this. And she is still here. We still love each other even through the times it seems that it’s over between us. My wife is my best friend. My soulmate who has given me so much love over the years. She might not fully accept my transexuality, but she still likes ‘me’ for being the me she fell I’m love with.

For all this I am truly thankful.

Happy Thanksgiving!
Hugs,
-Rachel