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About this blog

Exploration and growing into my transgender self

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Yesterday I read this article on Transgender Universe by Mila Madison (I love her writings):

Is It Safe to Come Out?

You see, yesterday was National Coming Out Day. On reading the article it occurred to me that for most people the definition of "coming out" is a single event, coming out of the closet, letting others know ones true/authentic nature (sexuality, gender, etc.), and then it's done. That stirred up some thoughts for me as I considered that I came out all of the past year and see myself continuing to come out for at least the next year and maybe beyond. i added a comment to MIla's article that I've edited below:

I think a point can be made that coming out isn’t binary, all or nothing. For example, I started coming out to selected friends, family and professionals one year ago. I kept a list on my phone, marveling as the number slowly grew from single digits into the teens. I told them, mostly in person, that I am transgender and had been since my earliest memories. All were more or less supportive.

About six months ago I couldn’t wait any longer and wrote a long-ish email to about 50 colleagues and friends. I then forwarded it to others as I thought about them. Most answered very positively, a few didn’t answer, and no on disparaged me. My number had grown to about 100.

About six months ago, very tentatively, I started dressing and going out in public. What fear and anxiety! Buying clothes on Amazon, afraid even to return those that didn’t fit for fear that the UPS guy would discover my secret. I started by attending all professional meetings (therapist, doctor, stylist, etc.) presenting fully as Emma.

Thankfully I have a supportive network of friends. One girlfriend took me to Nordstrom Rack and Sephora for shopping a few weeks ago. We left loaded down with bags like the women in Sex and the City. Another suggested I go to a local woman’s consignment shop; they were wonderful. Last week I ran errands, first to a lumber store to buy a bunch of wood for basement shelves, to Nordstrom Rack to return a jacket (and yes, buy another), Trader Joe's, and Bed, Bath, and Beyond... all as Emma.

Yesterday I went to pick up some sheet metal to fix a door, presenting as a woman. Talk about a bastion of testosterone. No one batted an eye. I also went out for coffee with a male friend whom I had told I’m trans but had never seen me dressed.

As of yesterday I’m starting to dress all or most of the time, authentically as myself, a woman, Emma. I take the public transportation downtown, go grocery shopping, the bank, you name it. I agree completely that we need to be visible so that our sisters and brothers behind us will witness our progress while the cisgender population learns that we’re just out and about, living our lives in peace and harmony with everyone. So what's left?

There are more bridges left to cross, such as:

  • Using my feminine speaking voice that I'm taking weekly lessons on. I'm nervous about that. Thank goodness my next door neighbor liked the way my "Good morning!" sounded to her this morning and volunteered to make herself available for me to practice as needed.
  • Go for a bra fitting. I'm waiting for my breasts to bud more before doing that. I imagine that one of these days my breast forms will feel even more uncomfortable riding on top of my natural breasts. Oh, and then I'll be wearing a bra all the time, too.
  • Select and wear a women's swim suit out and about. Likely next summer.
  • Go to Macy's and places like that for a makeover. I could really use professional help with my makeup.
  • Get my fingernails and toenails painted. Gosh, once that's done there's really no way to present as anything but a woman, is there? 
  • Get my hair styled and maybe add some highlights. My hair will be long enough in 4-6 months, I think, so I have some time. 
  • Change my legal name, drivers license, passport, etc. That's probably for 2019!

That's all I can think of for now but I'm sure I'll come up with more! Hey, that's part of the fun isn't it?

XXXOOOXXX

Emma

 

Last night I met a male friend for dinner whom I've known since first grade - quite a long while. I'd told him via email that I'm trans a couple of months ago and he was supportive, so he wasn't particularly surprised when I appeared in skinny jeans, athletic pumps, and with studs in my earlobes. He's a successful corporate attorney and is friendly, very articulate, and handsome with designer glasses, died hair, and clothing that while very casual were color- and style-perfect for the occasion. But as an attorney, and a man, he consistently talked over me, peppering me with questions and thoughts while I tried to hold up my side of the conversation. Things like:

"You're not going undergo genital mutilation, are you?" I was able to tell him that for me that's a bit over the horizon but also possible. I wasn't able to educate him on the fact that this surgery is in no way any kind of 'mutilation' with what that implies. I will be sending an email to him on that subject.

"You're not interested in men?" I tried to tell him that sexuality and gender are orthogonal and unrelated but here again all I could tell him is that I'm only interested in women; I'm a lesbian.

None of his comments or body language were delivered in any kind of negative way or overtone. He's told his parents who said that they wish me the best too, and his father (whom I haven't seen in over 40 years) said that he thought I'd make an attractive woman. I was just kind of taken aback at his assumptions and ignorance. As I said I'll send a follow up email to clear this up but imagine how hard it is to effectively us to people whom we've never met?

When I was young my handwriting was awful. So bad that all too often I couldn't read it myself. It was a scrawl; I just didn't care. About 35 years ago when I started working with computers I forgot how to write in cursive. I'd either type out notes/letters on the keyboard or use printed capital letters, trying to mimic an architect's hand. I was still able to sign my name in cursive but it's always been a scribble, identifiable as mine but otherwise indecipherable. Until a couple of months ago.

After I drove away from my life with my wife, heading north to destinations unknown, I wondered if my handwriting had always been so poor because on some level I felt that cursive was too feminine and that having nice handwriting might expose my feelings about myself. Sounds odd, I agree. I found a simple guide to cursive writing on the web and started slowly practicing. Soon it all came back but it's beautiful now! I love it, I'm proud of my writing. I wonder how and why it was so poor before but I think I know. Emma was in my writing and she needed to be kept in her place, out of sight if not out of mind. Not anymore.

Yesterday I had a first meeting with a doctor in a Seattle medical center to talk about starting HRT. We got along well and I told her that I didn't want to start right away; I just wanted to get to know each other a little and I'd continue to think about hormone treatment, and possibly have similar meetings with other doctors. She was perfectly fine with this but near the end of the meeting I knew: yes, I want to start, right away. I told her this and she was very okay with that, too. So now I have an appointment with one of her residents on September 11th (I just realized the significance of that date) to start that ball rolling. They know and list me as transgender in my chart with directions to use female pronouns and Emma as my name. Wow. But there's more!

A couple of months ago I met with a speech therapist to talk about voice feminization training. She's excellent and performed thorough tests on my voice, glands, and so forth. She had a concern that I might have a vocal chord issue so asked me to have an ENT evaluation before starting work with her. This morning I went to the ENT who inserted a scope up my nostril so she could see my vocal chords as they do their thing. And she gave me a clean bill of health, too. I'll start my vocal training at the end of next week! Still more...

I am lucky to have a couple of lesbian old friends in Seattle, who are married to each other. We enjoy each other's company and they have encouraged me to dress however I feel when I'm at their house. But I've still been a little nervous. Well, they introduced me to a good friend of their's, a cis/hetero woman, who is becoming a friend of mine, too. She and I planned to go to a Mexican restaurant together last Saturday night (as a ladies night out, if you will), and I dressed fully, in leggings, a tunic top, makeup (light), some jewelry, and wearing my breast forms. But NO wig! Just my very gray hair which is growing out pretty well but not long enough to be styled as yet. Probably will get it styled near the end of the year. My friend was so nice to me throughout, another woman complemented me on my earrings, and the waiter referred to us as "ladies." It just felt good, ya know?

I dressed the same way (but different outfit) yesterday when I went to see my therapist and the endocrinologist. It all went well. A couple of women smiled as we walked past each other; the way I interpreted it was that they could see that I'm a trans woman, and it was if they smiled out of encouragement, nothing else. 

What an amazing space trip I'm having!

Emma

The last couple of weeks have been busy. I had a first meeting with a new gender therapist (Shannon), my eyebrows waxed by a stylist (Zed),  and an evaluation with a very experienced voice coach (Sandy). I’ve also started drafting my transition plan that I’ll review with Shannon when we meet again in September – after I return from Alaska.  

I mentioned to Sandy (the voice coach) that I want to start low-dose HRT in September as a way to dip my toe in the water. She advised that I get some doctor recommendations from Shannon soon and set up an appointment (for September) as these doctors are so busy and the wait time could easily be a couple of months. She also asked about my plans to present in a more feminine way, perhaps full time, and how I planned to present at the Gender Odyssey conference in late August. I told her that I do not dress in public very often at all, that I wanted to allow time to grow my hair and have it styled, at least start on electrolysis, and to have made some progress with her on my voice. She kindly responded that there is a huge variety of people at Gender Odyssey – so I could wear anything and it would be okay. She also advised that voice therapy is much more effective when is presenting as a woman in public. It’s like learning French in school and travelling to France where one can actually speak it. 

Yesterday I emailed Shannon with Sandy’s feedback, asking if she would provide names for doctors to me even though I’ve only met Shannon once. I expected that although she might provide names that she would suggest that I wait to make an appointment until she and I had more meetings. Surprisingly and without any reservations she provided me with the names, and agreed with Shannon that I should make the appointment.

I was a bit startled and afraid after receiving Shannon’s email. In our meeting a couple of weeks ago she told me that she - like other professionals are increasingly doing - follows the “informed consent model” where clients like me are provided the latitude to make up their own minds once we have been informed of the protocols, risks, etc. Her email was thus consistent with informed consent. And, let’s face it, I do want to take this step. 

I reflected on all this while driving north yesterday for a couple of hours. I decided that before Gender Odyssey I will return to Zed (the stylist at the salon where I had my eyebrows waxed) and have her style my hair. In two months I believe will have enough to at least present more androgynously. I do have some hair loss in front that I assume we’ll be able to deal with, with "product" such as hairspray. Also, I’ll attend Gender Odyssey in a more feminine style of dress. Why not? I have several comfortable and casual outfits. What’s the worst that could happen? Given the climate of trans inclusion and welcoming in the Seattle neighborhoods I’m frequenting I think the rewards are much higher than the risks. I’ll also present in this way at least to Shannon, Sandy, and the HRT staff/doctor. 

As I drove further it occurred to me that the difference between fear and exhilaration is subtle. I was (and am) feeling exhilarated about taking these steps. It doesn’t hurt that I received a cute pair of sporty/feminine flats that fit perfectly yesterday from Amazon. Oh, that, and I got my ears pierced yesterday! I also bought a couple of pairs of earrings that I look forward to wearing. 

But I still have doubts, fears, and uncertainties. My (ex) wife is planning to come to Seattle in mid-September for her HS class reunion and we’ve talked about getting together. But I am thinking that she will not want to see me when I tell her about my ear piercings, my hair styling, and maybe more.

So what sustains me? First and foremost, I can’t deny my history. I owe it to myself to play this out. I am so fearful that if I do not that one day, perhaps at the end of my life, I’ll have regrets. Second, my (ex) wife is suffering a lot these days. We talked recently and I learned that she is sad, depressed, and lost since I drove away two months ago. She gave up so much while also supporting me so lovingly; I feel that I must follow through. Sure, I cannot take responsibility for her emotions and I try not to but I feel a need to honor her sacrifice and support.

At this point all the steps I’m taking are either reversible or can be switched off at will, so that makes it easier. My hope and assumption is that as I take these steps that I will feel joy that confirms that I’m heading in the right direction, and that will help sustain me as I take further steps that are more permanent.  I’m also comforted when I consider that Shannon, Sandy, and my friends, will be there for and with me all along the yellow brick road.

Best wishes,

Emma

P.S. I’m reading “The Transgender Guidebook: Keys to a Successful Transition” by Anne Boedecker, PhD. It’s excellent, in the same class as Dara Hoffman-Fox’s “You and Your Gender Identity: A Guide to Discovery”. 

Last week I sent the following email to about 30 ex-colleagues and friends at a start-up company I worked at for 6 years and loved. Roughly 75% have responded very positively, and one even reported that his 9 year old son has expressed transgender feelings and asked for my thoughts and suggestions. I've not received any negative feedback. Maybe the other 25% are uncomfortable? Who knows, but that's okay...

Since sending this email out I've forwarded it to another 15 or so people. I think it's a pretty good update for my friends and provides them with information that I hope they will use in conversations with their friends.

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Dear friends,

20 years ago this month I joined Start-Up thanks to A, B, and C, and it remains as one of the best experiences I’ve had. I miss working with all of you very much. That said, I’ve been carrying a profound secret since I was a child that I have only lately come to terms with and wish to share with you. My goal is simply to facilitate conversation. 

What’s the secret? In a word, I am transgender, and I’ll tell you more about it all below. I’ll try to be brief and avoid the dreaded “tl;dr” but as you can imagine it’s a long story. The story is important to me of course but I hope you will read and be interested more in the broader context of all transgender people.

I often start off by telling whomever I'm coming out to that ever since I can remember (age 4 or 5) I wanted to play on the girls' teams. I wanted to learn to curtsy with the girls in nursery school, dance like a ballerina, play with the girls in their kindergarten kitchenettes, and join the Blue Birds in 1st grade. In junior high, like Richard Dreyfus in Close Encounters of the Third Kind, I was inextricably drawn toward sewing girls’ clothes for myself including a camisole and a teddy, in secret and out of rags, while my parents attended AA meetings.

I was acutely aware that my desires, envies and actions were utterly shameful and needed to be kept strictly hidden and under control. All of these feelings stayed with me (maturing, of course) over the next half-century as I struggled to keep the ship afloat while battling depression and emotions that just wouldn't be suppressed. 

Close your eyes for a moment and consider how it would feel to be so utterly convinced that you are so shameful, with a longing that just doesn't go away, and it's so bad that you can't tell anyone what is really in your heart. You just have to journey on as best you can. That journey has been tough: always monitoring my relationships for whatever I might do or say that would expose myself, second-guessing: “Am I saying the right thing?” “How am I supposed to be right now?”

Telling you this is an amazing milestone for me. Quite literally for years I would have rather died than have it come out. I went to therapists for depression and didn't tell them about my feminine feelings, as those feelings were just too shameful and, I figured, I could keep the depression and its treatment isolated from talking about my gender dysphoria. In hindsight that was kind of silly but when feeling that kind of pressure we humans do odd things. 

In early 2014 my wife told me that I needed to return to therapy. I was unhappy, we were unhappy, and I needed to deal with things. I told my new therapist from the onset that for the very first time I was going to totally open my kimono come hell or high water. Still, it was unbelievably hard. It took some months to gradually get it all out. And then I had to tell my wife, which was also very hard. I spent the following couple of years studying, exploring, and learning what it is to be transgender, where it originates, overcoming my own transphobia, and accepting that I am trans. My wife and I cried about it but we decided that I would never really find and become myself while we were married. We thus went to a mediator a few months ago, worked out our divorce agreement, and filed the papers. The mediator was astonished that we came to the meetings holding hands, smiling/laughing, and yes, crying.

I bought a 23' RV (Winnebago Minnie Winnie; my wife hates the name!) in March and headed north in mid-April, in search of a new place to settle (I can't afford to live in the SF Bay Area!), to find who I am and become that person. 

Now, I'm in Seattle and have pretty much decided that I want to buy a small house somewhere in the San Juan Islands this Fall. I have old friends here and have always loved the San Juans. 

But on the transgender topic I assume that you and/or others may not know much about it and I figure that, like we saw with the civil rights movement, the emergence of gays and lesbians, and others, we need to encourage "dinner table conversations" among cisgender people (where 'cis' = 'same', meaning that one's inner gender matches their birth sex characteristics). Knowledge is power, and with that in mind I came up with what I hope is a helpful FAQ:

  • Does this mean I'm gay?

No. Sexuality and gender are completely orthogonal and unrelated, although this is often the first question people ask. For what it's worth I'm only attracted to women.

  • What does "transgender" mean? Does it mean you're a transsexual?

Transgender is an umbrella term/label that includes anyone whose gender doesn't align with their birth sex. Some trans present in public as their true selves, some caring that they “pass” and some not. Some only do what they need to do under their clothes or in private. And some trans people transition their bodies via hormones, surgery(s), and so forth, and some do not. Those that do are called transsexuals but the language is evolving and the transgender label is often used for people like Caitlyn Jenner, Jazz Jennings, Laverne Cox, and Janet Mock. 

  • How can I be sure I'm trans?

Good question, especially since there is no scientific/objective test... none. Everyone sure wishes there was a test. Trust me when I say that I've done my homework: lots of books, therapists, meetings with trans people, introspection. In the end it's undeniable. So much history. 

  • Will I transition?

Another good question. Until fairly recently I thought not but lately I'm thinking it may be inevitable. I'm afraid of waking up some day on my death bed wishing for what could have been or what I didn’t do out of fear. I am considering starting a low dose of hormones that can be taken for some months before physical changes occur to see how I feel mentally. I would put $20 down that I will feel terrific but we'll see; I have an open mind to losing that bet.

  • Do I present as a woman all the time?

No. When I'm with some friends, or attending a trans meeting/conference, I do. I’m growing my hair out because I hate wigs and at some point will need to have it styled. Maybe then I’ll start presenting as a woman more often.

  • What do I wear?

Us in the trans community call them "clothes." Sorry, I had to. :-) Actually, I try to wear a style like women would wear in a similar situation and about my age. I'm learning as I go. I attached a couple of recent photos. 

  • How do I look?

You tell me! I'm told I look pretty good but one never knows if people are just being nice. When I do go out publicly my goal is to blend in as best I can.

  • How many trans people are there?

Very hard to have an accurate answer. A UCLA study recently reported that 0.6% of US adults (1.4M people) are transgender. This compares with 3% who are gay/lesbian. These numbers feel right to me but what do I know. Notably there are the same number of FTM (female to male) as there are MTF (male to female, like me). FTMs have it easier in some ways at least because of society's acceptance of the variety of ways that girls/women dress. Also, note that 41% of trans people attempt suicide at least once. I'm part of that statistic.

  • Is it curable?

Our VP Mike Pence would say so. Consider this: is it "curable" (or needed?) to change your handedness from left to right? Your eye color? 

A. it's not a disease that needs to be cured. 
B. it's not changeable; we are what we are. Trying to "cure it" has proven to result in many suicides.

I'm careful to wish that Trump be impeached - the devil you know and all that. I wish they'd both be impeached. Sessions too, but I'm getting off topic…

  • Isn't it just a sexual proclivity or fetish?

No, not at all - at least for transgender people. Note that for many (me included) these feelings came about long before puberty. The child knows what is in her/his heart. 

  • Are you implying that God makes mistakes? 

Not at all, I'm acknowledging diversity. Being transgender doesn’t imply that God made a mistake although this is said by some, implying that since God doesn't make mistakes then being transgender (or gay) is simply an aberrant lifestyle. I don't feel that being transgender is any more of a mistake than being born blind, deaf, conjoined twins, with a cleft palate, or right-handed. 

  • Do you feel like you are a woman “inside”?

I don’t know, honestly. How could I? Do I feel like I was born in the wrong body? Not really although I have often wished I was born female. It’s hard to put my finger on it, but that’s kind of it: I have always envied and wished I was one of the girls. Simple and complicated and shameful (for a boy) as that. 

  • How do I feel these days?

I'm feeling rather good, thank you. It's truly amazing what a weight has been lifted off my shoulders. I've thus far come out to over 30 family, friends, professionals, and acquaintances, and if you include spouses and so forth it might be 50. Now with you I guess that number may double. 
I am daunted at times at the prospects of transition. I'm lucky to have found a terrific gender therapist in Seattle as well as other resources. I'm also so lucky to have such a strong relationship with my (ex) wife. We talk at least once a week for an hour or two. 

  • What's next?

On June 20 I will be crossing the border into Canada, driving the ALCAN highway in my Minnie Winnie to Anchorage where, on July 14th I'm meeting a friend with whom I'll be spending the following two weeks camping and motorcycling. (I also have a Kawasaki KLR 650 strapped onto the back of my Winnebago.) And then it will be back to Seattle to attend a gender conference (August 24-27) and get back into my trans journey.

That's all I have for now. Please ask me anything you’d like. Probably private emails are best since I don’t want to clog up mailboxes. Also, please feel free to forward this email to anyone whether I know them or not. 

Oh, and let me know if you're going to be in the Seattle area and would like to meet up.

The soul of brevity,

Emma

For more information

As you might imagine I could point you to way more than you may wish for. I think the four videos listed below are excellent. If you'd like to learn more please let me know.

Charlie Rose Brain Series: Gender Identity

In this episode of the Brain Series, a panel of experts in psychology, pediatrics, and gender studies, including co-host Eric Kandel and neurobiologist and transgender man Ben Barres, examines the complex issue of gender identity and the biology of the brain.

Dr. Mark Yarhouse: Transgender

As legislatures debate “bathroom bills” and National Geographic Magazine heralds a “Gender Revolution,” many are asking, what is gender dysphoria? Seven hundred thousand people identify as transgender in the U.S. yet many Christians are uncertain of how to engage. Dr. Mark Yarhouse, clinical psychologist and founder of the Institute for the Study of Sexual Identity, brings his latest research to educate us on gender dysphoria and provides a helpful framework for how to think well about the conversation of identity.

Brynn Tannehill - “I Am Real”

An amazing speech given at the 2014 TransPride Pittsburgh National Conference.

Sean Patrick Maloney & Sarah McBride - Democratic National Convention

Co-Chair of the Congressional LGBT Equality Caucus Congressman Sean Patrick Maloney (New York) and LGBT rights activist Sarah McBride.

For the very first time I went out to dinner dressed last week and spent a couple of days in skinny jeans, leggings, and my tunic tops. Also wore a couple of my skirt/top outfits. I also received a lot of lessons in makeup and wig care. I learned so much! And I just felt wonderful. 

True, I also learned that, frankly, makeup is hard to learn, and I prefer to wear as little of it as possible. And the wig is hot and not very comfortable. Thankfully my natural hair may be okay so I'm growing it out to see. I guess that will take 6-12 months to know. 

But I also learned that I really would love to transition. Not soon, as I want to explore some more, talk to others, and settle on a plan. I'm currently heading north through Washington and soon through British Columbia to Alaska. Not a good time to mix it up with electrolysis, hormones, and all. But I will have lots of hours behind the wheel and I've ordered some voice lesson DVDs and a CD. Who knows, in a couple of months I may be able to have a much more feminine voice. I sure hope so!

Emma

P.S. Eyebrow waxing hurts but it's over quickly. I'm told that I now need to find someone every 2-3 weeks to repeat it or risk losing the line that she gave me. I'm sure I can do that in Seattle but in the upper part of BC or Alaska? We'll see. :-)

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Yesterday afternoon a rental RV pulled in to the campground space adjacent to mine. I didn't take much notice of it. I glanced there occasionally and was surprised to find that the couple were sitting in the cab of the truck. Kind of odd since the first thing one does is connect up the water, electricity, and waste disposal. I made my dinner and while cooking my pork chop decided to ask them if all was alright. Maybe they were unfamiliar with what to do and embarrassed to ask? 

After eating my chop (which was delicious!) I headed over there. The man was in the cab, the woman no where to be seen. He popped out and I explained that I noticed them in the cab and was just checking to see if they needed any help. He was very friendly, in his 60s I think, and said it was just a comfortable place to sit and update his Facebook while keeping an eye on his own BBQ. His girlfriend then came out too, very big blond hair, friendly. I learned that they are from North Carolina, very small towns (about 2,000 people) near Raleigh, heading to Frisco (please, please, don't ever say that. It's San Francisco) today I think. We separated back to our RVs and the evening.

Last night I considered which side of the bathroom bill they are on. My guess is that they are on the trans-phobic side as they also made a small sleight about a minority. So now I'm wondering if I should venture there again this morning and ask them about the bathroom bill. And if they are for the discrimination ask them what concerns them. And regardless, then tell them that I'm transgender, and assure them that while in male mode (which they see me now) neither I or anyone I know who is trans would even consider entering a women's washroom. I could do it, sure. But I'm scared to think what might happen. Probably nothing physical, but emotional? Do I want to deal with that?

Anyway, I left my copy of Janet Mock's book "Redefining Realness" in the campground book exchange area. Maybe someone will read it and learn something. I hope so.

P.S. That couple left the park while I was in the laundry room, so they were unaware of their neighbor, the transwoman. I suppose I'll always wish I'd gone ahead and broached the subject with them. Who knows, we might have had a nice chat over a glass of wine. Given the same circumstances that's what I plan to do the next time. Live and learn.

Today is – quite literally – the first full day of the rest of my life. Yesterday (on Easter Sunday) I left my wife (now, ex, which is hard to fathom), home (now hers), friends, and family, to venture out on a Hero’s Journey (if I do say so myself) to see what I find in my gender, life, and home. I woke this morning in my Minnie Winnie near Healdsburg, California at a KOA campground, figured out how to hook up the water and sewage to the coach, and cooked eggs and coffee for breakfast. 

The last couple of months have been very challenging and exhausting for both my wife and myself. I returned from my camping trip in early February to find that my wife had decided that we should divorce. She said that the reason is that while we are together it will be unforgivably impossible for me to truly discover and be myself, whether I need to transition, live publicly as a woman, or whatever. That, and for reasons she doesn’t understand herself (and feels guilty about) there is something about my being transgender that she finds very hard to accept.  

At first there was some anger and hurt feelings between us. She asked when I might leave (the earlier the better), we both worried about how we would settle our affairs, and I could not wait to simply drive away and move on. We found a divorce mediator, I created a spreadsheet that helped us try out different asset division models, we started to trust each other, and finally came to an agreement. She got a bit more than I did but that's the way it needed to be for her to keep the house. But I got my freedom in an enviable way that I have often dreamed of my entire life.  

Once that was worked out the rest of our time was mostly spend packing and provisioning my Winnie, unwinding our family finances, pushing through the myriad forms needed to file for divorce. We worked hand in hand still wearing our wedding rings. Our mediator and attorneys were amazed that a couple as caring of each other as us would even consider getting divorced. I’m deeply saddened now as I write this. I know she is too; we talked last night on the phone for 45 minutes.

When I arrived at the campground yesterday I unpacked my Emma clothes into my closet and drawers; they’d been in boxes that my wife really prefers not to open. And now I consider what I want to do in the coming months.

My plan is to head slowly north, through Oregon, Washington, British Columbia, to Alaska, for the summer, and then return south in time to miss the winter snow and rain, through Iowa (or Idaho, not sure), Utah, and Colorado. In each location I want to see what feels right and wrong about the place, and experience what’s available for trans people like me. For example, in Portland (Tigard, actually) and Seattle, are what I call “training wheel” services that provide help with dressing, make-up, and the rest, and opportunities to get out and feel what it’s like to be as female as I can be. I hope that through that and more I’ll learn more about where under the TG umbrella I’d like to be. 

But it’s not all about being transgender. I have my acoustic guitar, camera, bicycle, books, hiking boots, and paints. I want to exercise, eat well, and meditate on staying in the present, while pushing against my fears and boundaries that I have allowed to control me for the past six decades. 

And who knows, I might meet the next love of my life. I’m not looking but I’m open to it so long as it doesn’t happen too soon. And, my ex and I plan to stay in touch, and she may visit me in Seattle, Alaska, or both. We might even decide to get back together if I truly find that I don’t need to transition and she becomes comfortable with my true self, whatever that is.  

That’s about it for now. Stay tuned, there will be more!

Love,

Emma

 

Emma and Winnie.jpeg

I've been coming out to professionals, friends, and family, over the past few months, and yesterday evening I decided to send an email to a male friend. I've been apprehensive about telling him I'm transgender because I have sensed that he may be less understanding than others and might say something hurtful. Nevertheless I sent the email that covered all the bases: my gender-related desires and feelings since preschool, my shame and depression, and how it all adds up to the fact that I am transgender. I felt it was comprehensive but not too long and I hoped that as a friend I've seen for a dinner every month for more than ten years he'd understand and express sincere support.  

Here's what I received:

"Well, I hope that there was nothing that I said or did over the years that made you think that I would be hostile or unaccepting or anything like.  I try to be tolerant and I hope that I seem tolerant too.

Anyway, none of what you wrote is offputting or means that you're stuck from the "friend" list.  I don't want to say something that will be misinterpreted, but the sexual proclivity or gender choice  (I realize that these are two different things) of my friends just doesn't matter any more than their height or color or whatever.  (Now, if you came out and said that you voted for Trump, that might be a problem.)  :)"

Maybe I'm being too sensitive - it wouldn't be the first time - but I needed to clear at least one thing up, so here's what I wrote back to him:

"No, there was nothing you ever said or did that particularly worried me. Sharing my secret is tough, that's all. It's like finally admitting to a lie. 

Not to put too fine a point on it, but let me say that it's not a proclivity or a choice. I agree that it's like hair color or height, or being gay for that matter; modern science agrees that it's biological. I was just born this way. It's a tough row to hoe."

Although I know that emails and written "conversations" are fraught with misunderstanding I wanted to be clear that being transgender is certainly not a choice. He hasn't responded yet but as I think about it this morning I think all will be okay.

That said, overnight I mulled his use of the word "tolerant" as if hey, he's tolerant so isn't that good or righteous? It came to me this morning that it is not: I tolerate a spider on the ceiling, a few dust bunnies in the corner, and dirty dishes in the sink after dinner. But eventually I grab the stepstool and a tissue to nab the spider, vacuum the room, and wash the dishes. So yes, tolerance is better than hate or rejection, but it's not enough.

I don't know exactly what is enough but tolerance isn't it. In an ideal world being transgender would be like having blue eyes or blond hair - not even thought about by most, perhaps appreciated by some. But we don't live in an ideal world so I feel that I have to come up with a compromise. Maybe and especially from friends and family I'd like to hear that, regardless of my being transgender, they love and support me. I don't think that's too much to ask.

As some of you may know I'm on a rather extended road trip through the end of February, having stayed in San Diego (Chula Vista) for a couple of weeks, and am now in Mesa, Arizona. Why am I on this trip? My wife and I felt that it would be good for both of us, to provide some space for us to clear our heads and consider our future. 

The first week and a half were pretty emotional and rough for me. I kept falling into a funk as I felt lonely and sad. Traveling by myself isn't the best (no one to share adventures with) and leads to all sorts of mind games, rehashing the past, assuming the worst for the future, all that. 

A few days ago my fog lifted and it's not returned. I'm not manic or whatever, just calm and centered. Part of it is that I am simply accepting my transgender nature. (Yeah, I know you've heard it before but I mean it this time!) At the risk of upsetting the karma I am liking myself and how I feel, as a trans woman who may not need to present as such outwardly but knows who she is internally. I've been reading Harry Benjamin's "The Transexual Phenomenon" which, while over 50 years old, offers helpful insights into the spectrum of transgender people. I wish there was a similar book published more recently. (If you know of one please let me know.) 

I'm also grateful that I can even have this experience. Most people probably can't afford it. I'm staying in KOA "Kamping Kabins" that are about $65/night, and I prepare almost all of my food so I'm keeping expenses down. It does get chilly at night so I bundle up and get cozy. I've driven over 1,200 miles so far and spent about $100 on gas; thanks Prius!

I'm also grateful that I've been receiving such warm affirmations from friends and family lately: Bree, Michael, Monica, Jack, David, Paul, Dara, Joanna, Rob, and Glenn. It helps so much to be able to talk to them on the phone or via email from time to time and not just about TG stuff. 

That's about it for now. I'm in Mesa until Friday and then driving to Flagstaff, which while more northern appears that the temperature will be livable for me.

Best wishes to all,

Emma

Although professionals and others, after reviewing my history and story, have assured me that I am transgender that's been a hard pill to swallow at times. I always come way wondering if I might have consciously or unconsciously told them only what I wanted them to know or in a way that manipulates their judgement. And even if I accept that I've been as transparent as I can be I have then questioned their authority to make the determination. This has all been so exhausting, like running the wheel in a hamster cage. But I think I'm coming to an acceptance that I am what I am, and I am transgender. I hope this blog post will provide an example that might help others struggling with this question.

So here's what I did: a couple of months ago I started compiling a history of memories and trans feelings/experiences that I grouped into categories by age and school (for when I was younger). Not all of my memories came to me at once so I added as I thought of more of them. It helped to write them down because it's so hard to keep all those details in mind. That process helped a lot but it wasn't complete. A few days ago I added a one or two sentence summary of that time period that kind of distills what came up for me during that time period. 

Wow. It is what it is and at this point I think it's undeniable. Here's the whole thing as of today:

Emma’s TG History

<6 years: preschool and kindergarten 

Where I discovered my shame about wanting to be girly and do girly things, and the powerful need to keep it strictly hidden from others. But as an only child where did that shame come from? I assume I learned it from my mother, before I have memories, when I rebelled against her making me be a boy.

  • Wore out my baby blanket’s satin edging; I loved the feel of it.
  • Twirling like a ballerina at another child’s birthday party; ashamed and stopped before “being caught.”
  • Wanted to learn to curtsey with the girls in preschool
  • Playing with the girls in the kindergarten kitchenettes; afraid of the boys play and what they would think
  • Playing with neighbor friend (who much later came out as gay): making up stories with little characters

6-12 years: grade school

Like a sponge I soaked up knowledge about girls and women, contemplated what it would be like, and fostered fantasies. I spent hours surreptitiously investigating in magazines, newspapers, television, and catalogs. 

  • Wanted to be a Blue Bird in 1st grade
  • Wished I could be a mermaid
  • Wanted stirrup pants like the girls: how would they feel to wear?
  • Rolled up in my Nana’s satin comforter; shamed by her to stop. 
  • Playground: with the girls playing hopscotch, gymnastics on bars
  • Unexpressed wishing mother would buy leotard and tights for me
  • Bedtime fantasies of being dressed as a girl, transported away into space. Or, dressed in a harem girl’s costume, living in an I Dream of Jeanie bottle, with Jeanie.
  • Fixated on catalog with sleeping bra, wanting one, trying to figure out how to order and receive it secretly.
  • TV: That Girl, Girl from UNCLE, Flying Nun, The Avengers, I Dream of Jeanie, Bewitched
  • Favorite movies: Patty Duke, The Sound of Music, Three Lives of Thomasina
  • Wanted to be able to cry and wear a ring like a girl at school

13-18 years: junior and high school

Covert actions taken to experience clothing, the good feelings that emerged were undeniable. 

  • "Subtly" trying to encourage mother to buy a tutu for me
  • Hand-sewing camisole and romper out of rags while parents at AA meetings
  • Trying on girdles from Goodwill bag
  • Cutting panties from discarded pantyhose to wear under clothing or to bed
  • Bought black long-sleeved leotard at dance clothing store; returned a year later to buy black tights. I had to wait or risk their remembering me.
  • Wearing mother’s swimming suit when parents were out for the evening
  • Lake Berryessa: bought pantyhose to wear and hang out in, on weekend alone. It felt marvelous but lonely.
  • Wanted to crossdress with girlfriend; she was okay with it but I was too cautious
  • Stole girl's skirt, top, and slip from restaurant restroom 
  • Continually looking for discarded/lost girl’s clothing 
    • Found yellow girly panties on lawn
    • Found multicolored panties in HS parking lot

18-24 years: college

More clothing and my first-time experience going out dressed. But otherwise a low point in my TG world as I tried to be what I was supposed to be.

  • Stole blue leotard from clothes wash room in dorm
  • Halloween: dressed as coed (skirt, girls sweater) for party, loving it and yet feeling so alone, afraid to show that I loved it too much and that I’d be found out.

Twenties

More clothing and dressing.

  • Found navy blue dance panties in parking lot
  • Bought leotard and tights at dance store
  • Bought leotard at flea market
  • Halloween (1981): on the Castro as a nurse. What a great time I had, just being me if only for a few hours.
  • Halloween (1982): on the Castro as a bride. Not quite as much fun but a good time nonetheless.
  • Wearing leotard/panties during sex

Thirties

Explorations, confronting fears by buying clothing.

  • Wearing panties and nightgown during sex
  • Visited TV/TS bar in Munich: a long walk from my hotel but I left shortly after arrival; too scared.
  • Foxy Lady Boutique – SF: dress and lingerie
  • Lingerie boutique - Mountain View: corset and stockings

Forties

Exploring what it means, terrified to come out and be accepted. Once again, full withdrawal.

  • Accumulating very small wardrobe
  • KOA Santa Cruz: much research, writing, desperate for acceptance and understanding. Drove to LA to crossdressing clothing store; bought a dress, lingerie.
  • Delivered overly comprehensive report to my wife that I hoped she would see it all as no big deal. Just the opposite, she was devastated.
  • Serious suicide considerations
  • Carla's Boutique: bought dress, bra, other

Fifties

Discovering the new transgender vocabulary, that being trans is inborn, not a choice. Wondering how far on the spectrum I will need to travel. Finally: full disclosure with therapist, wife, and gender therapist. 

  • Bringing leotard and tights on business trips
  • It all emerges again: much more exploration
  • Confrontations with my wife
  • Serious suicide attempts, much consideration
  • Clothing bought on Amazon, REI, Carla’s, dance store…
  • Gender therapist’s confirmation
  • Attended TG/TS group meetings at Carla's and with gender therapist
  • Participation in on-line support groups TGGuide and CrossdreamLife
  • Wearing dresses and skirts in private at home; nightgown to bed

Sixties

With disclosures, my shame is about gone. Still hard to accept this reality at times. What will I do if my marriage collapses and I’m on my own?

  • Realization that I'd always wanted to be small and treasured: does that mean female, or perhaps loved by my mother? I think it's the former but it's probably both.
  • Wearing dresses and skirts in private at home; nightgown to bed
  • Coming out to family and friends: all going relatively well
  • Increasingly accepting that I do not see a need to socially or surgically transition
  • Attended TDoV, TDoR in San Francisco; surprised I don’t feel much of a bond with these people.
  • Dara Hoffman-Fox’s book and workbook: worked through the exercises, provided her with edits for her next edition.

My wife recently asked me if I feel that I am female "inside."  If I am transgender, then doesn't that mean that I consider myself fundamentally female?  It turns out that those are questions I've asked myself and I am not confident I have the answers to.  After all, how can I ever know if you and I see the same color let alone if my thoughts and feelings are female?  

To try to answer these questions I try to look at the facts that I do know and then draw a conclusion:

  • I know that since preschool I've envied girls and women.  This has been a constant throughout my life, often considering what it would feel like (and wishing I could feel it) to be one. I thus feel it's certain that I have gender dysphoria.  
  • My childhood was shadowed by a clinically depressed mother and an absent father; their relationship was pretty emotionless.  I was an only child, and was often navigating rocky shoals at home, trying to please my mother or just remain out of her focus. Some have written that a single mother's attention might encourage some to "become transgender." Well I'll tell you, there are some parallels but we did not have much of a relationship at all let alone one that would encourage me to look at her as a role model.
  • Even in preschool I had shame about my envies of girls. In kindergarten when I played with the girls at their play-kitchenettes I was sure that this was shameful. My shame around my GD was a constant that developed into depression for me.  

Some ideas:
1. My shame/depression may have resulted from my mother's treatment of me expressing my gender dysphoria.  This might explain why I automatically felt shame even in preschool and kindergarten.
2. My shame/depression may have resulted from my mother's attitude, disposition, depression, and treatment of me (in general).  Why not? 
3. My gender dysphoria may thus have arisen from my childish observations that girls had it better. My home life was pretty awkward at best so it seems natural that I would wish I had it better. I sure liked some of my friend's mothers. It was like I instinctively knew what I was missing.

My gut tells me that the answer is #1, so that's what I'm going with. Okay, but am I female in my head?

In an email to my therapist a couple of months ago I told him that overall I always just wanted to be small and treasured. When I wrote it I felt a shiver like, "yeah!" He noticed it too, telling me that it was an important observation. Small and treasured does dovetail with what I imagine I'd be if I was a girl. I'm sure women outgrow most of it but I imagine it's always there, like a foundational right of being female.  

But I still lack an answer: am I female at heart? I struggle to know. I'm not that unhappy with my life as a sensitive, thoughtful, and fun male.  It's just that something feels missing.  In Dara Hoffman-Fox's book "You and Your Gender Identity: A Guide to Discovery" she writes that these kinds of self-doubts are very common. It's as if we have an internal Protector who is fed off those "am I crazy?" doubts that creep into our consciousness and are so hard to silent.  We need to acknowledge and thank our Protector for her attention but consider her advise carefully as it is often presented in ways that prevent us from moving forward.  

Yesterday I wrote another email to my therapist.  (Thank goodness he supports this.  It's so important for me to have these touchstones with him in between our meetings.)

  • As a child did I want to be small and treasured, and not receiving it, envied girls and thus wanted to feel like one?

        - or - 

  • Did I want to be a girl, and thus be small and treasured? 

I think it's the latter but it's hard to be sure and seemingly impossible to know. What I do see is that 'small and treasured' is a common denominator for me to this day. If that supports me as being female inside then so be it.  In the meantime I'm satisfied in the knowledge that I have gender dysphoria, that's it's perfectly okay and normal, and that I'm making my own progress in my own time.  

Emma

P.S. I just looked at my profile and see that I joined TGGuide on 10/27/14.  It's less than a week from my 2-Year Anniversary!  Maybe I should use Birthday instead? It feels like it.  I've grown so much over that period with so much support and guidance from our members here.  As the Grateful Dead sung, "What a long strange trip it's been."

Thank you all.

This morning I came across this wonderful post on Joanna Santos' blog: https://joannabefree.blogspot.com/2016/10/my-own-coming-out.html I know we don't typically reference sites off of TGG but I feel this is important.

There, she posts a video that really resonated with me, that labels such as gay, male, white, transgender, etc., may set us up for "us vs. them" feelings, thus leading to isolation and our considering ourselves only within that label, which is only a part of our overall self. 

I've recently been thinking, okay I am transgender but that is not all that I am. But it kind of felt that way. Worse, I fear my wife feels this way, too. It's as if my being trans is the only thing now. And neither of us want that.

In the video the person (can't recall his name) makes the point that if we say "I have gender dysphoria" that we can more naturally consider things like:

1. How will I accept, manage, and live with my gender dysphoria?
2. What does gender dysphoria mean for me in the context of my total life?

I think that is healthy to consider. I recently came out to a couple of our friends as transgender. They were okay with it at least to my face but now I think I may return to them and refine myself as "I'm me, with gender dysphoria." I mean, who cares what the label is? I'm simply working on ways to manage my dysphoria (which is undeniable) and be happy as a total person, with my wife, friends, and doing whatever it is that we do. 

Mixed Emotions

By EmmaSweet,

As I often do on Sunday mornings over coffee I read The New York Times and this morning was no different. I ran out of things that interested me so did a search on "transgender" and found the following article about Barry Winchell's murder while in the US Army, who was in a serious relationship with Calpernia Addams, a transexual woman. I came close to crying in the neighborhood coffee shop as I was so taken by the depth of feelings that came up:  An Inconvenient Woman

I then checked Huffington Post's TRANSGENDER page which often has interesting articles and, thankfully, found one that was so delightful, about an 11 year old gay boy's first day at middle school, how he met and befriended an 11 year old transgender girl, and his wonderful mother:  When My Son Met Another Out LGBTQ Kid On The First Day Of Middle School

Okay, great, feeling better!  At least until I read another one on Huff Post:  Surviving The Waves Of History: Bathroom Bills Can Be Deadly which is about a transman's suicide over the weight that he could bear no longer from those who deny transgender people's validity and rights.  He just missed Attorney General Loretta Lynch's speech where she said:  

"Let me also speak directly to the transgender community itself. Some of you have lived freely for decades. Others of you are still wondering how you can possibly live the lives you were born to lead. But no matter how isolated or scared you may feel today, the Department of Justice and the entire Obama Administration wants you to know that we see you; we stand with you; and we will do everything we can to protect you going forward. Please know that history is on your side. This country was founded on a promise of equal rights for all, and we have always managed to move closer to that promise, little by little, one day at a time. It may not be easy — but we’ll get there together.”

We will, my friends, get there together.  What a Sunday morning it's been. Here's wishing you a beautiful day.  Go hug someone.

Emma

What Is It...

By EmmaSweet,

About lying in bed, in my long white nightgown, reading, with my legs tucked under the skirt. It's like being at peace with the world, comfortable and cozy, and right. It just feels right.

And that's what they say transgender is. What feels right, what does it for you. It's terribly hard at times to really put ones finger on it and like the Heisenberg Uncertainty Principle, as soon as you try, it moves, as if it can't be objectively pinned down.

Isn't it weird that something as simple as this could seem so right? I mean, why the big deal? Why does it mean anything at all? It's not erotic or a turn-on. Maybe I'm past that point. But maybe it's also a feeling of how it should have been so many years ago when I should have been a little girl.

But I'll never be a little girl nor a big adult girl either. Maybe I don't have to be so long as it's okay for me from time to time to snuggle in my white nightgown, reading a book, cozy.  Right now it feels very good, very right.

>100 Miles!

By EmmaSweet,

I've been wrestling with myself about posting this today. I don't think I'm one to blow my own horn (much) but yesterday I accomplished something I've been working toward for the last few weeks.  I rode my bicycle over 100 miles, from Redwood City to Cupertino, back and forth, and finally returning home almost 8 hours later.  Total riding time was just over 7 hours and the difference is due to stop lights and a couple of times when I stopped to open up my little pouch to munch on a piece of Clif Bar.  

The last two Saturdays I've tried to reach 100, but each time just could not go farther than about 75 miles.  It was like I hit a wall and if I went further I was afraid I might just pass out.  I do carry four bottles of water (mixed with electrolytes) and a couple of Shot Blok packages, but I got nauseous and had to head home.  Yesterday as I passed 75 miles I was definitely moving slower. I started arguing with myself: go ahead and head home, at least I'd be more than 90 miles this time! But it finally came to me, to achieve more than 90% and then give up for the last 10%?  No way. And, truth be told, I don't want to do this every weekend.  Too many hours.  I have other things to do too, and now, next weekend, I can take a "short 50 mile" ride and feel okay about it!

Why do I write about it here?  I don't often consider myself as having much grit and determination. I am intimidated all the time by stuff that others just don't understand. Stupid things like trying to diagnose why my wife's computer is no longer receiving emails into her business account.  Now, I know how to do this sort of thing.  But I feel an anxiousness when I don't know how it will end up and can't control the outcome.  

So maybe that's where I'm coming from. I certainly didn't know how it would all play out when I told my wife I am transgender two years ago.  At first she was devastated, assuming that our marriage was over, that the one she loved so much had betrayed her trust, and that I was destined to transition. God, that was scary and emotionally wrenching.  It took a lot of work in and out of therapy, more confessions from me, and finally starting to take an SSRI that seems to be really working, for once.  

All my life I've had emotional issues, and have spent countless hours with a variety of therapists for the last 35 years. I kept expecting that he/she/me would discover the "one thing" that was going on for me, we'd address it, and... problem solved! It sure didn't turn out that way. Part of my problem was that I was unable to disclose my transgender feelings to them or myself. But even when I started to do so with my present therapist, three years ago, the improvement in my well-being has been so subtle and gradual, at times unnoticeable.  But as I contemplate how things are going these days it's undeniable that I have made progress.  

I don't know what "done" is, nor do I expect it.  I still have my anxieties.  I did yesterday morning as I considered getting up and, once again, trying to make it to 100 miles.  But I did it! You can too.

Love and hugs,

Emma

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Now, I suppose the title of this post may sound like I'm having a bad time but no, just the opposite.  I came across these book covers recently - aren't they cool?  I just love them.  They bring up all kinds of thoughts and feelings for me. I'm going to look around eBay and elsewhere and see if I can get my hands on them.  (Postscript: It's on Amazon for $2 (Kindle version. Yay!)

But really, my life is going pretty well recently.  I never thought I'd say this but the SSRI medication that the psychiatrist prescribed actually seems to be working.  I was promised that "we have new ones" that would work better with fewer side effects.  I wasn't a believer by any stretch having gone through so many trials and errors in the past.  I've been on the medication for about four weeks and wow, I can tell that I'm much better than I was. It's a subtle thing - most of the time I don't even think about it, which is good.  I don't want to even be aware of it.  

My wife and I are doing very well together, too.  I'm sure we'll still have our ups and downs but maybe with the med I'll not go into a crashing end-it-all depression whenever she makes some comment that I misinterpret or can't deal with.  It's seemed that way thus far so my confidence is building.  

Work.  Well, not for much longer!  We had a 1/3 of the company layoff two weeks ago and they asked me to stay for another four weeks to transition my responsibilities to others.  Why not?  An extra four weeks of pay.  But really, it kinda sucks given that they don't know who to transition my work to, and the others in the company know I'm Dead Woman Walking.  (Well, I guess they'd not refer to me as a woman but hey, it's MY blog!) Lest you be worried about my losing my job, please don't.  I will likely just go into full time retirement.  Which is kind of scary in that I've spent the last four decades using the busy-ness of work and my rather strong work-ethic (thanks Dad!) to avoid some things and to feel needed.  As an old friend once said many years ago, I get a lot of emotional groceries by staying busy.  A lot of satisfaction too.  

But I have some things to look forward to.  I recently looked on Amazon for Julia Cameron's book "The Artist's Way" which I was thinking about re-reading.  If you haven't read it and are looking for any kind of inspiration - it's a gem.  Really.  But you know what?  Just one month ago she published a new book:  "It's Never Too Late to Begin Again: Discovering Creativity and Meaning at Midlife and Beyond."  How cool is that?  I'm hoping off buying it until I'm truly unemployed.  I don't want to spoil the treat.

I also signed up for a one-day class at Stanford, "Happiness: Gumption, Gratitude, and Grace" which my therapist suggested.  Looks like it will be interesting.  Who knows what lies there or what will come up?  I am looking forward to exploring further.  

There's more, of course. My wife wants me to build a tiny house for her in our backyard as a kind of retreat space.  Not that we have a very large lot... pretty much no one does in the Bay Area.  I was initially concerned that she plans on moving into that little house but no, she doesn't.  Heck, maybe we can have sleepovers.  That'd be fun.

So it's all good, my friends. 

Emma

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Behind Blue Eyes

Pete Townshend, The Who, 1971, from the album “Who’s Next”

 

No one knows what it's like

To be the bad man

To be the sad man

Behind blue eyes

 

No one knows what it's like

To be hated

To be fated

To telling only lies

 

But my dreams

They aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be

 

I have hours, only lonely

My love is vengeance

That's never free

 

No one knows what it's like

To feel these feelings

Like I do

And I blame you

 

No one bites back as hard

On their anger

None of my pain and woe

Can show through

 

But my dreams

They aren't as empty

As my conscience seems to be

 

I have hours, only lonely

My love is vengeance

That's never free

 

When my fist clenches, crack it open

Before I use it and lose my cool

When I smile, tell me some bad news

Before I laugh and act like a fool

 

And if I swallow anything evil

Put your finger down my throat

And if I shiver, please give me a blanket

Keep me warm, let me wear your coat

 

No one knows what it's like

To be the bad man

To be the sad man

Behind blue eyes

 

No, I don’t have blue eyes although I wish I did.  “Blue eyes” came up recently when my wife and I met with our therapist.  I said to her that I’m normal, like anyone who is left-handed or has blue eyes.  Sure, part of a smaller segment of the population but normal nonetheless.  Our therapist then said that although she loves me deeply that she might not be physically attracted to someone with blue eyes.  

Later, privately, she told me that she’s fearful that indeed, blue eyes may be a turn-off for her.  Worse, she worries that she might find herself drawn to someone who doesn't have blue eyes.  

I understand what she’s saying. But it does hurt.  And worry. I just have to trust that we will work it out.  


P.S. I don’t mean to brag here but I just have to share… I saw The Who in the summer of 1972 at the San Francisco Civic Auditorium during their Who’s Next tour.  My friends and I had fantastic seats about 20 rows back from center stage. The music was so loud that it felt like blood was trickling from my ears but of course it was not.  Such fantastic memories of Roger Daltry whipping his mic high into the air only to catch it perfectly in time with the beat from Pete Townshend’s guitar and Keith Moon’s drums.  

I was 16 and had driven the family station wagon about 50 miles from the South Bay.  The previous evening my father asked if I knew how to get there, and of course, I hadn’t thought of that.  Together we looked at a map to plot a course.  We made it to and from okay but also remember feeling so disoriented and scared trying to find my way back to the 101 freeway after the show.

 

Life is Good

By EmmaSweet,

My friend has a cap with the words "Life is Good" on it. I often wonder if he realizes how much it affects me. I'm feeling that way these days. I am increasingly realizing how unbelievably oppressive it was (and is) to live with such strong feelings and hurts about wishing one is the opposite gender from their birth sex. And, how we can be conditioned to work so hard to suppress it to get along. But that "getting along" for me meant waiting for it to be over. Which seemed like such a waste.  

So today I'm posting a photo of my new pink dress.  Even when shopping for it (yes, on Amazon) I hesitated ordering such a bright and pretty color. Conditioning strongly at work that tells me that certain shades of blue, green, maybe a brown would be okay.  But not girly pink!  But I'll tell you, I LOVE it.  I really do. And it's a nice soft cotton, which is perfect as the temperature is getting a little warmer. 

I did attend TDoV on Thursday.  Call me old but honestly, it didn't do much for me.  Kind of reminded me of street fairs I attended a few decades ago on the Castro.  But then again, all happy people having a good time.  What I enjoyed the most was talking to several people as we ate finger food and had a glass of wine before the main event.  It was fun to meet more transgender people who are all happy and well adjusted. Funny story: I met another Emma!  But she was probably 20-30 years younger than me and had never even heard of Emma Peel, which cracked me and another couple (my age) up. What fond memories I have of watching all of Emma's moves in The Avengers so long ago.  She was my dream.

I'd also like to say goodbye to Patty Duke. I know that wasn't her real name but that was who she was to me.  When I was young my parents used to drop me off for an outdoor movie night at Lake Berryessa. I remember watching her in at least one movie and, as with Emma Peel, watching Patty so intently while trying to slowly chew my Milk Duds.  And of course I also loved the Patty Duke Show...

So yeah. Life is Good.  

Love you all,

Emma

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As some here will recognize this "nature vs. nurture" thing has bothered me at times. At my age it hardly matters. It's not as if knowing that is going to change anything for me.  But I've always felt it would help me to know that I was born this way.  Last week I wrote about it a bit in this post: Chicken or the Egg: Nature vs. Nurture

As I often do I shared my post with my therapist; we talked about it last Thursday evening.  I love the way that I'm able to share my posts with him, and to receive his support and encouragement.  As we talked about the nature vs. nurture question I mentioned that for the last couple of weeks I've not been feeling those transgender visceral needs/wants/envies. When this has happened in the past it's been both a relief and a regret, and a wonder when or if they will return and if I can possibly recognize a trigger for those feelings.  Maybe now, I speculated, that I feel a bit more in touch with what happened to me emotionally in early childhood I'll discover that my transgender nature emerged from my rather strained nurturing?  

Without hesitation he replied, "Ebb and flow sounds completely natural to me. Not like a habit at all. And maybe that also reflects that, as a woman, the need, thrill, or awareness of dressing becomes unimportant until, for some reason it arises as a need to 'get your girl on.'" 

We talked about it some more. He said that it also seems evidently nature-based because, after all, I kept returning to these feelings throughout my childhood and life.  As a young child (3-4-5 years old) I could have reacted in many ways to feeling emotionally suppressed. I could have been defiant, or a bully, or... Instead, I envied, dreamed, and often considered, being a girl. And those feelings were consistent through elementary school, junior high, high school, and college. It wasn't simply a reaction, it was me, expressing herself! How cool is that?

Hmmm, that feels good. Gee, do I feel an inkling of Pride? I can hear Star Trek's Mr. Spock, "Interesting emotion, Emma!"

From what I've read the Nature vs. Nurture question remains open, except perhaps for those who always knew. Throughout my investigation into the roots of my transgender nature I wanted the result to be that I was just born that way. Then I could easily say to my wife, the world and myself, "I am what I am, those were the cards I was dealt." And then they could take me or leave me, and if they left I'd at least know that because it was in my genes it just is what it is and move on.  In case you're wondering, I still haven't figured it out.

Recently my therapist suggested I read Living Like You Mean It: Use the Wisdom and Power of Your Emotions to Get the Life You Really Want. It essentially goes like this:

  • Babies are born with emotions that are like little flames that need to be nurtured. If they are not, the babies learn to suppress those feelings so as to get along in life.  For example, the baby feels anger, expresses it, is then rejected or isolated, and the baby then turns it on herself, as if to say (to herself) "I must be bad if I have emotions, therefore I have to suppress my emotions."  But this results in sadness.
  • This behavior may result in behavioral patterns (e.g., depression, flat-line emotional control, dissatisfaction) of adults who don't really know how to feel. Because when they do they defensive feelings emerge to counteract the genuine feelings which perpetuates the cycle.  

Upon finishing this book last weekend I got terribly depressed. It was as if the rug of "I was born this way" was ripped out from under my feet. You see, the book thoroughly describes my home environment. Without getting into too much history my mother was terribly depressed herself, hospitalized a couple of times, electroshock therapy, and when I was 24, committed suicide.

Throughout my childhood I was alone when at home even if my mother or father was there. My mother might have been at home, often in bed or otherwise disconnected, and my father was at work, nights and weekends, on various space flight programs. Without getting into details, I was well and truly taught to be seen and not heard. 

When I met with my therapist last Thursday I recalled for him that I'd always admired girls, their unfettered expression of emotion: joy, love, sadness. And after reading this book I wondered: perhaps my transgender nature results more from my envy of girls' "allowed" to express emotion where, as a boy in my family, I was not?

This morning I happened across this: I Am A Girl! - Ik ben een meisje! on YouTube. I'd seen it before but it really touched a nerve. She is so pretty, happy and, at 13, so grounded! I think you'll love seeing her. Clearly, she is transgender by nature.

So now I wonder: 

  • Nature: was I born like Joppe in the video, but my natural needs and desires were suppressed into smithereens by my family environment?
  • Nurture: If the former isn't correct then maybe I have an envy that arose from my upbringing, a desperate need to express and be myself which I saw as only available to females?

Or maybe it's a combination of the two? 

Why does it matter? I guess I just really want to figure myself out. As if, like my wife, I was adopted and just want to know the truth of my background. 

I have fragmentary memories of early childhood that support either or both theories.  No one to ask, since my father also died about ten years ago and I don't have siblings.  

Hmm, maybe I should return to my therapist's advice and just Stop Thinking! Just accept myself, follow my feelings. I am trying. But on Saturday mornings when I'm not consumed by career it's hard to ignore these thoughts.  Oh I remember now what he'd say: "Get mindful, take a step back and consider your thinking from afar.  What would you say to yourself as a child, if you could, today?" 

I think I'd say this: "IT'S OKAY TO BE YOU!"

Last Thursday as I was planning my day I knew that that evening I had an appointment with my therapist. I made plans to drop by an Amazon locker to pick up a new top and told some people that I was nervously thinking of putting it on in his restroom and surprising him in our meeting.  At lunch I read some encouragement from Veronica, Bree, and I think others, which just felt wonderful. After, as I walked to get a cup of coffee I suddenly realized I was smiling. I felt so wonderful to contemplate that evening and to receive everyone's encouragement.  Thank you!

Now as it turned out I hit traffic on the way there and was kind of in a rush. I dashed into the restroom, tried it on, and felt that it was too small - I should have ordered the larger size.  But I tried it on today and it is maybe a little small but I think it's okay. I took my photo wearing it along with the leggings I bought last weekend. It feels really good to be wearing it now as I write this.  (BTW: I bought those tulips in the photo for my wife to surprise her for Valentine's. Score!) 

At my therapist appointment we had a nice conversation but I complained that although I'm feeling better these days I still find myself questioning my being transgender. It's as if a part of my brain is stubbornly refusing to let go and I keep on running through a rather long list of history and experiences that make it so obvious that I am trans. His advice?  Stop thinking, and appreciate the fact that Emma is a huge and lovely part of me. Learn to love her and live by following my feelings more than my thoughts. I think that is good advice and I'm really working on it.  

I'm also reading a book called "Who's Really From Venus?" by Peggy Rudd and really liking it. It's basically a book about how to live with yourself as well as a partner when you are transgender.  She has a lot of experience with this, as her spouse is trans. I am about halfway through it now and am at a place where she talks about how to cope with yourself.  Here's what she provides as coping skills:

  • Learn to deal with problems successfully.
  • Define the problem and seek solutions, possibly with the help or input from others.
  • Handle or dissipate the fears and hurts of life in a constructive manner.
  • Recognize yourself as unique.
  • Realize your potential for true inner strength.
  • Develop the ability to move forward in spite of the lack of acceptance.
  • Keep learning from all experiences, both positive and negative.

I think that is terrific advice and the third one is probably the toughest for me. She also writes:

Even if it takes years to find a comfort zone with your own identity, you must keep searching. Acceptance from others will follow. At some time we may need to have the forgiveness of others, but of greater importance is the forgiveness we owe ourselves. Love is not about keeping old wounds open. Love is about healing wounds. It is about moving forward and learning from past mistakes. It is about getting on with life.

We do owe ourselves forgiveness and space to be ourselves. We are all wonderful and loving people who just want to be... ourselves. 

As an aside in case you read her book there is one thing I have a concern with.  She writes everything about "crossdressers" instead of "transgender people." I think that is an important point since I really don't see myself as being all about the clothing whatsoever. It's much deeper than that. Maybe she, given that she is cisgender, doesn't discern the difference or the sensitivity to that word. (Or maybe I'm making too much of a deal out it.) Anyway, I love the book regardless.

Be well, and with warm hugs,

Emma

 

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Last Thursday I saw my therapist. I was pretty distraught, with a shaming weight crushing my chest because I so often feel so anxious for approval, affirmation, and when it's delayed or I don't receive it, I go to my dark place where I'd just as soon fold up my tent. It's a cycle that's been with me forever and I'm very ashamed by it. Sure, maybe that seems silly to you dear reader, but I get so defensive and I feel so needy.  It feels like feelings I simply should not have and since I do so intensely I'm ashamed.  After all in my professional life people don't act like that, do they?  No way, Jose.  It's like I'm often on edge, hyper-aware of how people feel about me and I worry that that comes across too.  Goodness, what a mess.

Toward the end of the meeting he said something like, "Well, be sure to listen to Emma. She's a huge part of you and she has a perspective that may help you."  I took that to heart and spent the last couple of days wondering what Emma would say. And I felt like such a fraud! I'm always ready with some sort of encouragement or thoughts but when it comes to me they all sound so inane and useless. Sure, I hope it does help those I send messages to, I really do. But when I'm sending them to myself? I can't even think of what Emma might say that would be useful. I kept thinking that I'd put up a blog post with something like, "What should Emma say to herself?" But that sounded so wimpy.  

So I took a bike ride today. It was almost 80 degrees here (can you believe it?) and I went out for a couple of hours, but beforehand decided I would think about this further.  I must say that riding the bike is a great place to just think.  Yeah sure, while peddling like a madwoman.  I don't remember what prompted this but it occurred to me that I'm always wanting the fast answer.  I want the problem to be diagnosed, implement the solution, and have it done and behind me. I recalled that last couple of years since coming out to myself and then my wife.  Jeez, a couple of years? Yeah, but that's not so bad. Better to have taken a couple of years and be where I am than not, right? So it dawned on me: "Come on, honey, give yourself some time."  <big sigh> And she's right, I think. 

We've all heard that life's a journey and all that but I think it really is. There is some truth to that. Go have a cup of tea, put your feet up, enjoy your new top.  (It did finally arrive today and it is pretty cute with the leggings I found yesterday at Costco.) So that's my game plan for this week. I'm trying to slow down. Way down. Be patient. Good things come to those who wait. 

We'll see, my friends.  (You do still like me, right?  I am still loving your affirmations. B) ) 

Have a nice week,

Emma

"You're too sensitive."

I've heard that so many times in my life. Worse, I believe it. 

I should not be hurt by rude people at work. I seem to be the only one who gets hurt. So no, I shouldn't be affected.

I should not like how I feel when I wear my dresses. After all, it's just cloth. A fabric of threads. And I'm not supposed to like them.

I should not be scared. Scared that people will discover how scared I am. Of being hurt. 

I should not even write this here. After all, I'm a mod; mods don't cry. 

"It's always all about you."

That hurts too. A lot. So if I didn't feel then it wouldn't hurt snd it would not have to be about me.

I should be happy, not sad. What have I got to be sad about? "I'll give you something to be sad about."

Shoulds suck. I should forget that word, delete it from my vocabulary. I like it when I feel my truegender. Inside and out. But it's just a feeling and I don't know if it's okay to feel. Is it? It doesn't seem like it. 

My cursor gently blinks as I ponder clicking the Submit button. Maybe this is what blogs can be for. Sometimes to pour out my heart. Show the world that I feel. I don't like it and I don't know what to do with it but there it is. 

This is a real first for me, taking my photo and posting it here or anywhere! :wub: I'm really enjoying this new dress that I just received last week. Sitting here typing up this blog entry just feels right, you know? The whole thing feels so right, I just want to get up, go out to my car, and walk around downtown. Maybe have a coffee and a croissant.  Or a lady finger.  Hahaha! 

The slope is a little slippery right now.  I keep finding myself shopping (on line) for more, admiring styles, looks, and almost ordering. I hold myself back since, after all, I must soon remove all this and prepare for my lovely wife's return from her day. 

Which is bittersweet, isn't it? That I have to remove my dress at all, that I cannot just be myself - whatever that is. Seems like there oughta be a law, don't it? I am very grateful that I can even do this. So many cannot, because of their inhibitions, personal situations, and yes, finances.  Deep down I am a very grateful girl.  

I hope you like my photo and I hope, like me, you're getting ready for a wonderful 2016.  

Hugs,

Emma

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