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Emma

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Blog Entries posted by Emma

  1. Emma

    New 'Do

    By Emma,


    Category Name
    It's been just over four years since I left my home in California and started exploring my transition: where was I under the trans umbrella? Over a couple of years I realized that I'm firmly on the far end of the spectrum. And while I was always pleased with my progress I still harbored a lot of baggage. I'm so glad to say that as of about six months ago that burden is relieved and my life has never been better. 
    This morning I was contemplating: why was that baggage so hard to live with and deal with? I suspect it's a result of my parents trying to cure me through their own version of conversion therapy from when I was a toddler through my childhood. And that was compounded by what I gradually learned what to expect if I expressed my true wishes and dreams to others. 
    Now, that's pretty much done and in the past. Thank goodness!
    Below's a selfie I took this week after getting a new haircut. I'm very happy with it!

  2. Emma

    New Haircut!

    By Emma,

    My hair was getting pretty long and I liked it. But it occurred to me that the ends likely needed trimming back a couple of inches to even it out, the bangs trimmed, and I wanted my stylist (whom I adore) to see about adding some framing around my face. So yesterday I saw her and after, she snapped this photo. I am loving my new haircut! 
    Oh, and I started a diet last Sunday to lose what looks like some sort of baby bump in my belly. No alcohol, very light on the carbs, all that stuff. I'm committed to doing it until Thanksgiving, about 70 days from now. So far so good!

  3. Emma

    Girlfriend

    By Emma,


    Emma
    Almost two months ago I received a message on a dating app: "You have a warm smile." I checked out her profile and we started messaging back and forth. In and of itself this was so amazing for me. I was on a half-dozen dating apps (the usual suspects) and mostly received messages that someone had looked at my profile. So what? They didn't hang out, follow up with me, did they? 
    Also, of late, I've felt more satisfied with being single. Not resigned to it. Actually, pretty happy. But has so often happened in the past: when I'm not looking for love it flies in unexpectedly. And when I am looking for love it's probably best that I not find it because I'm carrying baggage.
    So, this woman and I made plans to talk on the phone for the first time. In preparation for that I reviewed her profile again. I wanted things to ask her about. I then looked at mine. I noticed that all of the text blocks said "in review." I'd been on that site for a couple of months. Why "in review"? And did that mean that people couldn't read my text where I unequivocally inform that I am transgender? I wasn't sure and decided to go ahead with our call and see if I could find out.
    That evening on the phone we had a great and fun conversation, with all sorts of topics. At one point she said, "So, when you were a girl..." Wow! Did this mean she saw (in my photos), voice, and tone me as a cis woman? I thought about asking her but didn't want to disrupt the flow of our conversation. We signed off after an hour and agreed to meet the following weekend for a coffee.
    Later that same evening I knew that I needed to put my cards on the table. It wasn't fair to her or me if there was any confusion about who I really am. I sent a text message to her, advising her that although she may be unaware that I am transgender. I wasn't apologetic, just frank in a friendly way. She quickly responded: she didn't care one way or the other.
    In the following weeks we've gotten together much more, for coffee, dinners at each other's homes, watching movies on TV. We're getting to know one another. So far so good! I think it's good that I wasn't in a needy place when we met. Although I still think of the future and hope for the best we never know what the future will bring. It's best to just stay in the moment and enjoy the ride...
  4. Emma
    I love this book. It speaks to me so well. So much, that I’m reading it again—for the third time.
    While taking the light rail this morning I read:
    ”When we let ourselves feel, our inner self transforms. But here’s the rub: Destruction is essential to construction. If we want to build the new, we must be willing to let the old burn. We must be committed to holding on to nothing but the truth. We must decide that if the truth inside us can burn a belief, a family structure, a business, a religion, an industry—it should have been ashes yesterday. 
    At first it’s very scary. Because once we feel, know, and dare to imagine more for ourselves, we cannot unfeel, unknow, or unimagine. There is no going back. We are launched into the abyss—the space between the not-true-enough life we’re living and the truer one that exists only inside us. So we say, “It’s safer to stay here. Even if it’s not true enough, maybe it’s good enough.” But good enough is what makes people drink too much and snark too much and become bitter and sick and live in quiet desperation until they lie on their deathbed and wonder: What kind of life/relationship/family/world might I have created if I’d been braver?”
    it is freaking scary to push forward out of our comfort zones. Her sentence about the deathbed came to me years ago. Then, I thought it was about not being in or finding a fulfilling career. I know now that it was about living and experiencing my authenticity.
    Back to the light rail. Have a great day!
  5. Emma

    How To Be A Lady

    By Emma,

    Life's good for me here in Seattle. Friends, acquaintances, ... so many delightful connections and living in such a wonderful environment. I occasionally have an internal struggle (maybe too strong a word) with my being trans. On the one hand, everywhere I go I am greeted and interacted with as a woman. My lesbian friends assure me that I'm certainly accepted and seen/heard as a woman. 
    And yet about a week ago I was at a (cis woman) friend's house and I mentioned that I missed being able to travel due to Covid. I said that I wondered how I would be accepted and treated outside the Seattle area "bubble" that we live in. Through her body language and expression she confirmed that it was at least somewhat evident that I'm trans and that yes, she also wondered how I'd get along outside of, say, the West Coast, as compared with her. 
    I thought about this off and on for a few days. I've come to recognize that no matter what I'll always be transgender. And maybe I'm loved for that too. I went to ballet yesterday as I do twice a week (they only allow five students per class due to the virus; I'm one of the director's favorites!) and enjoyed the sincere warm feelings I share with the instructor and several of the others. 
    On the train to/from ballet I wrote this in my phone:
    How To Be A Lady
    I started my transition three years ago. So many frightening hurdles and self-conscious steps. Some reversible, some small, some irreversibly committed to like a ski jumper launching her downhill acceleration run, but without practice or previous experience. Too many to count. 
    At the start I didn’t have a clear vision of my goals although as I progressed through therapy, presentation refinements, voice and behavior coaching, medical therapies, and surgeries, I found my deep seated need to be fully female internally as well as to the outside world. 
    My friends, mostly cisgender lesbians, repeatedly assured me that I was unequivocally a woman. But these days I am coming to the realization that no matter what I do, how well I pass, I am always transgender.
    Like ones sexuality, skin color, cultural background, education, or life, being trans isn’t my primary identity. I am a lady then and now. I arrived here by a different route than cisgender women, but I’m here all the same.
    If I’m going to see the future I want, I need to live and breathe it.

  6. Emma
    I started reading "Untamed" by Glennon Doyle a couple of days ago. She's putting into words so much of what I know in my deepest recesses to be true for me but have been unable to vocalize. She's not trans, she's a "late in life lesbian, about 45.
    She writes about how women—especially—are trained from a young age to fit into society's expectations and largely, to passively accept the limitation of their true selves to fit those molds. As trans people we all share this, don't we? Since 4 or 5 years old I struggled so hard to be what I was supposed to be. Such a mess, so much depression, shame and loss. 
    "... good enough is what makes people drink too much and snark too much and become bitter and sick and live in quiet desperation until they lie on their deathbed and wonder: What kind of life/relationship/family/world might I have been if I'd been braver?
    The building of the true and beautiful means the destruction of the good enough. Rebirth means death. Once a truer, more beautiful vision is born inside of us, life is in the direction of that vision. Holding on to what is no longer true enough is not safe; it's the riskiest move because it is the certain death of everything that was meant to be. We are alive only to the degree to which we are willing to be annihilated. Our next life will always cost us this one. If we are truly alive, we are constantly losing who we just were, what we just built, what we just believed, what we just knew to be true."
    Of course we're all fearful of losing what we have despite our sacrifices to maintain that "good enough" life. And it's not all about being trans, determining what that means for each of us, and following our gender journeys. It's about learning to listen to our deepest feelings and acting on them.
    We really do only have this one life to live. Will you accept good enough? 
  7. Emma
    Learning curve... what?
    Now, almost six years after I started contemplating whether I am trans, I am a woman in most ways except, perhaps, to myself. I have several very good cis women friends whom I love and love me. When we talk about my struggles they reassure me that I am clearly a woman to them. My speech, my mannerisms, certainly my clothing, all speak to the truth of me authentic gender. 
    So what's the struggle? Why am I writing?
    When I get dressed to go out I always consider will the outfit look nice and appropriate, warm or cool enough, water resistant if it's rainy, that sort of thing. But when I think about wearing a dress or skirt, is it okay for me to wear such a thing, especially if it's warm and I can't wear leggings underneath. I generally don't let those worries hold me back. Appropriateness is the order of the day and after that, well, I just get dressed. Like yesterday I needed to make a run to the local big box hardware store. I had been wearing paint-spattered Levi's and an equally crappy tee shirt while working in my basement. Men go to such stores without changing all the time. But women? Not so much. It was chilly so I wore a kind-of sweater dress, black leggings, black booties, lipstick, and threw on my bright red raincoat. No one at the store commented or noticed me unless they were out of eyesight. In the store, though, I was a fish out of water, clearly a woman shopping in the tool section.  How am I supposed to be when dating? I have a non-binary cis-woman girlfriend which is fun and all but I struggle waiting for her to take the initiative when it comes to most anything such as hand holding or kissing. From time to time I go ahead and make a move.  Sure, that's how I was socialized.  When I attend my ballet class and see myself in the mirror with the other women I can't help but see my broad(er) shoulders and height. Everyone is wonderful to me and I'm wonderful to them. And let's face it, they're no spring chickens either. Still... I guess the bottom line is that I'm only gradually knowing within my being and heart that I am a woman, plan and simple, just going about her life like any other woman. 
    The learning curve is steep but I remain so grateful to be on it. Maybe (probably) I'll aways have some nagging doubts, worries, that sort of thing. But there it is.
  8. Emma

    "Passing"

    By Emma,

    I never cared for the word “passing.” It sounds to me that it means one isn’t being identified as masquerading, as if the presentation (clothes, makeup, hair, shoes, accessories, mannerisms) are all so good that one is passing for female even though they’re “not really.”
    I don't wish to brag—transition is quite a long journey—but of late I’ve been so pleased that I’m consistently gendered female everywhere I go. I love hearing everyone referring me to as "ma'am." While driving yesterday it came to me that my happiness comes from seamlessly and authentically being seen for what I am, a woman. Sure, I remain critical of my voice and the face I see in the mirror. Perhaps that's just another example of any woman's dissatisfactions of her self?
    I suppose that the word “passing” is meant to describe my experience? Even so, the word doesn't feel right to me.  I think a better way to express it would be to say “gendered correctly” although 5 syllables and 2 words is more of a mouthful than 2 syllables and 1 word. I wonder if we should/could come up with an alternative to "passing" with another single word. Thoughts?
  9. Emma

    Happy Holidays

    By Emma,

    As we near the end of 2019 I am reflecting on the last few years. In 2014 after 57 years of suppressed shame I finally started sharing my feelings, fantasies, wishes and dreams with a therapist. With his encouragement and support I spent a lot of time on the web trying to learn more. It was then that I even learned of the word "transgender." I loved it; it felt right I never liked the words transvestite or transexual, both of which sent my shoulders up toward my ears. 
    I joined TGGuide later in 2014, so tentatively at first, worried that I would say the wrong thing, upset someone, and experience rejection. Not only did that not happen I was encouraged, supported, and made to feel at home. TGGuide was my touchstone. I logged in several times a day, reading, writing, and participating. One time the website went down and I nearly panicked, not knowing what if anything I could do if it was forever gone. 
    Fast forward to today when I'm as transitioned as I'll ever be which is something I had no idea I would do even in the Spring of 2017 when I found myself driving north from the Bay Area on a mission to find myself and a new place to live. Now, in vibrant, fun, and welcoming Seattle, I have friends who love me and a life that is rich and full. I am truly blessed and wish to express my gratitude as well as my very best wishes to you and yours for a happy holiday and fabulous 2020.
    Love,
    Emma
  10. Emma

    Constitutional Crisis

    By Emma,

    According to a Harvard law professor a constitutional crisis exists when:
    1. The Constitution does not provide a clear, definitive answer to a problem;
    2. The actors in the conflict appear ready to press their competing courses of action to the limit.
    Reading this in the NYT this morning brought forth a realization of how my ex-wife often managed her part in our marriage, which brought to mind "Marriage by Crisis."
    As she did from the first time I told her that I occasionally crossdressed she gave me a take it or leave it. There was no middle ground. I consistently backed down, out of fear of losing her love and to restore the peace that we both enjoyed. In peace we were both so happy with each other and our life together. 
    She was the one who called for divorce as I discovered and embraced my authenticity, often saying through tears how I had betrayed her. It's been now 2 1/2 years since our divorce and I feel that she betrayed me: I was okay only if I fit into the mold she insisted upon.
    None of us can predict the future. It seems to me that a fundamental part of marriage is to support each other's growth. Yes, this can lead to conflict, but overall, growth trumps much. 
    Keep growing. 
  11. Emma

    Teanaway Ridge Hike

    By Emma,

    I hiked up to Teanaway Ridge (https://www.wta.org/go-hiking/hikes/iron-bear) yesterday with Philippa, Juliette, and Clara. The weather, spring flowers, and amazing views of the Cascade Mountains were perfect, as was the after-hike beer and munchies. The hike was hard going for me since it was my first hike since my GCS/BA in late January. It was fun getting to know Clara and Juliette who are mid-30s, married to each other. Full of smiles and youthful energy and enthusiasm.
    The thing is that I believe I'll always be recognized as trans, and I feel it holding me apart from the community of women. That said, there is a limit on what I'll subject myself to, to pass, which is not a heck of a lot. I've worked on my voice a lot, had FFS, and wear a small amount of makeup (not yesterday of course). So I think it's fair to say that I'm seen as a trans woman and those in the know only know and refer to me as Emma, with appropriate pronouns. 
    I have an awareness that I'm different, and not in a good way. Sure, that's a judgement that I put on myself. I wonder if I had pride in being trans that it would be easier. 
    I'm always so self-conscious. My voice, my face, shout out my reality and I don't like it, always feeling like I'm different. I am thus torn between wanting to be social versus retreating into a shell, solitary with my self-conscious defenses lowered. 
  12. Emma

    Guilt on the Rise

    By Emma,

    My ex-wife and I talked yesterday for ninety minutes on the phone. We got caught up on each others lives after not speaking for three weeks due to my facial surgery recovery and her trip to Mexico. That was all well and good until near the end of the call when she said that we need to reduce the frequency of our calls to monthly. She started crying as she told me how unhappy she is, nothing to really look forward to, that sort of thing. It's been two years since I left her in California and this year she turns 70. She's also having problems with her knees that were replaced, her back which seems to be trying to unsuccessfully compensate for her knees. She's a mess while I'm living up here in Seattle having more or less the time of my life. 
    Sure, I have my own issues. My facial surgeries went fine but I have lots of numbness all over, including my scalp. It's so weird to feel (or not feel) ones skin and scalp. Very uncomfortable. It's been less than three weeks since the surgery but hey, I'm impatient even while plenty of doctors have advised that I need to give it a year. My vulva is also kind of uncomfortable too. Not nearly as much as a couple of months ago but it's another discomfort that keeps it's presence known, all of which keeps me kind of pooped out. I'm lucky that I'm retired and able to sleep in and take naps.
    Since talking with my ex-wife yesterday I'm feeling a lot of guilt and responsibility for her feelings. We were married for twenty years and still care for each other a lot. Before we were married I confessed my occasional cross-dressing. We were in bed with the lights out. I was so ashamed, and yet felt that I had to confess, get it out. I felt that our love was so strong that she'd be my supporter and we would navigate this together. Instead, she threw me out of the room. I slept fitfully on the couch. The following morning she came out and said that if we were to stay together that 1) I'd throw out all of my female clothing, and 2) we'd never discuss this again. I agreed and meant it, and I followed through when we returned home after a short vacation.
    But as we all know this was just like another purge cycle. I couldn't deny my authentic spirit as much as I tried to suppress it. Over the years of our marriage I secretly bought small clothing items to wear when she wasn't home or to bring with me while on business trips to wear at night. She occasionally tripped over them in my hiding places, and as time progressed she often coached me that some of my gestures and behaviors were overly feminine. That sucked so much. I felt like I'd returned to being a child trying to be on my best behavior, self-correcting so as to avoid reprimands. And yet I did it because... why? I guess it was because I felt so ashamed. I was also afraid that our relationship would dissolve. 
    She's supportive of me now. She sent some jewelry to me a few weeks ago. Intellectually she understands that my being trans is valid and real. I suppose she's just wrestling with her own sadness that for whatever reasons she can't see herself with me now as my authentic self. I've told her and I think she understands that deep down I'm the same person. And yet...
    It's so hard to hear her cry, the anguish in her voice. I feel guilty that I wasn't more adamant before we were married. Maybe I was selfish. I'm so sorry that I hurt her, I really am. 
  13. Emma

    Am I a Woman?

    By Emma,

    Yesterday I exchanged emails with a good friend of mine, who's a cis woman, about how before/during/after transition I fretted about my gender. Although I feel very binary, a woman, I tell people that I'm a "woman of transgender experience" which, I hope conveys an understanding that I'm a woman first, but am also transgender, always and forever. Well, I tell myself that, but I still struggle.
    My friend wrote: "The ways we try as women to fit a standard, and inevitably fail, because it's an unattainable standard."
    That triggered me. I was delighted that she sees me as another woman, at least mentally. But it's habitual that I wonder how does she know? Is she saying that just to be kind? And more importantly, what am I, really?
    I think we all wish that we can be "fixed" of our anxieties, to be rid of them. I'm learning that this just doesn't happen. We need to learn to live with them. Maybe this quote from Brene Brown's recent "Braving the Wilderness" will help:
    "Stop walking through the world looking for confirmation that you don’t belong. You will always find it because you’ve made that your mission. Stop scouring people’s faces for evidence that you’re not enough. You will always find it because you’ve made that your goal. True belonging and self-worth are not goods; we don’t negotiate their value with the world. The truth about who we are lives in our hearts. Our call to courage is to protect our wild heart against constant evaluation, especially our own. No one belongs here more than you.
    True belonging doesn’t require you to change who you are; it requires you to be who you are."
  14. Emma

    Labels

    By Emma,

    As I near my fourth anniversary on TG Guide I'm feeling a bit reflective. So much water under the bridge! Back then I was on pins and needles posting here as I worried about what I said (or didn't say), what my future might be. I guess I'm getting ahead of myself; I do wish to write another entry when we're closer to the anniversary itself.
    I've read a lot about labels and how much many people don't like them. If I was non binary I'd certainly understand. I think it would be so hard to walk in their shoes. I talked to a friend a couple of months ago. She's also trans, an MTF woman. She's adamant that she's a woman, nothing more, nothing less. Of course, I was and am perfectly fine with that. But it didn't fit for me.
    At the time I had been telling myself and anyone who'd listen that I was a transgender woman. In some ways I didn't feel I deserved to be labeled 'woman' without that qualifier and, regardless, I don't share cis women's experience of girlhood, puberty, and all the rest. And, as much as it is at times hard to bear, my face and voice are less identifiably feminine than I'd prefer. But they are what they are and in some ways I'm proud to let my "freak flag fly" as we used to feel back in the early 70s when our hair was long and we felt a solidarity in that. Not that I'm in any way a freak today; it's just that I'm less and less caring about how other people perceive me. Obviously I don't like being misgendered (it happened just this morning at my hotel breakfast in the dining room). I corrected her and we moved on. Hopefully she learned something. 
    When I talked to my therapist some weeks ago about this they (my therapist, Shannon, is non binary and they/them are their pronouns) they said that we needed to work on my capitalizing woman within my label as in "transgender Woman," to emphasize that I'm a woman first, transgender second. I didn't know how to do that and neither did they. As some know here I've been socializing with several lesbian women over the last few months at dinners, hiking, backpacking, etc., and I've asked them: "when you think or talk to me do you have to remind or monitor yourself to use feminine pronouns?" No, they all said. As far as they are concerned I'm a woman through and through. Cool.
    Of late I've been trying on a new label that I came up with. It's a bit wordier than I'd like but here it is: "woman with a transgender history." It is a bit longer than I'd like but I'm not sure how to shorten it without losing its meaning: I'm a woman, that's for sure, but I also have a transgender history, and that's for sure too. In a way my label follows "people of color" in that they are "people" first, and "of color" second, which indeed they are. It's like a lightbulb has lit up in my head why many of them prefer that label instead of "black" or other labels. 
    Maybe as time and experience progresses I'll drop the last part but in the meantime "woman with a transgender history" feels right to me. I rather like it!
    P.S. I'd also like to make another point. It's nice that Facebook and others have added new gender labels such as "transgender male," "transgender female," etc. I feel that they should also update their traditional labels to "cisgender male," and "cisgender female" which would, I think, force their cis membership to learn and consider something: that they are cis and that, as opposed to their trans counterparts, have their inner gender identity in line with their bodies. Lucky them, I guess, but despite the trials and tribulations of being trans I much prefer my current existence to being a cis male! 
  15. Emma

    Love the One You're With

    By Emma,

    Although I live my life as a woman and am comfortable doing just about anything I still experience moments of gender dysphoria. For example, a couple of weeks ago I had a women's clothing "party" at my home where a clothing line's representative presented this Fall's new clothing to myself and four other women. All of us are friends but I was so on edge, comparing myself to them, wondering how much of an imposter I was actually perceived to be. Although I ordered some pretty clothes I was pretty down for the rest of the day and through the following. 
    I talked about my feelings with everyone - individually - in the coming days. I was surprised to learn that all were also very self-conscious, also comparing themselves to the others. A couple even compared themselves to me as I'm slimmer than them. But my neighbor (Jill) said she wasn't self-conscious at all. She's pretty, about 40, and trim. But is she 'perfect'? No, but she's a delight in every way. Jill said that she decided that she's not going to compare herself, fret about any aspect of herself that she doesn't like to see in the mirror. And that got me thinking.
    This past Saturday I hiked by myself up Mt. Si (pronounced: "sigh") which is east of Seattle. I had plenty of time to think while hiking the 8 miles to the summit and back which involves 3,100' elevation gain. I thought about Jill's advice.
    "Rock what you got" came to mind. After all, I chose my middle name "Joy" to copy a young woman's middle name that I knew about 50 years ago. She was pretty and young, a little chubby with thin blonde hair, and introduced herself as "Barbara Joy-to-the-world!". So yeah, let's rock!
    I also love CSNY's song "Love the One You're With" and it occurs to me that we can turn the lyrics toward ourselves. We are with ourselves of course... all the time. So, I like that too. 
    So with that in mind I went to The Rack yesterday to buy a pair of black dress shoes to go with a black dress I'm going to wear to a formal dinner later this month. As I wandered the aisles I marveled about how much fear I felt about a year ago when a girlfriend took me to the store. Now, I'm just another shopper, enjoying a fun time. Yes, I found my shoes in size 11! $49!!!
    Below are a couple of photos. One is my cat, Peanut, playing in the bag from yesterday's shopping spree, and the other I took last night doing my impression of Einstein's famous photo.


  16. Emma

    Wow

    By Emma,

    I joined TG Guide almost four years ago. The time seems short and in hindsight it's passed quickly but there were many deep valleys amid the peaks. Last weekend I hiked to Tolmie Peak with some lesbian friends. Imagine that, out and about as natural as can be. 
    Now making plans for GCS, hopefully by end of Q1 2019. And yesterday my ex-wife phoned to ask if I'd like for her to help me through recovery! (You bet, I answered.) 
    Wow.

  17. Emma
    A friend of mine who happens to be non-binary wrote to me this morning about a speech he made yesterday at a monthly event were locals in his community speak on that month's theme. For May it was "epiphany" and... he won! I've had my own epiphany in the last couple of weeks that I'd like to share.
    Over the years I've often read about the need to live authentically. I assumed that meant I needed to find a different job, career, or otherwise "find myself." I had about three major career changes (broadcast engineering, outside high-tech sales, high-tech marketing and business development), worked for a dozen companies, and even tried my hand at starting my own ventures. I even once really committed to learning fiction writing on the assumption that "if Dan Brown can do it why not me?" (The Da Vinci Code had an interesting premise but in my opinion exhibited pretty marginal writing chops.) I think it's fair to say that through the first 5 decades of my life I tried really hard to "find myself" and although I experienced thrills and euphoria with each new thing (like the infatuation people feel with a new lover) I soon found them a bit tedious, got depressed, and then found myself slogging along once again.
    Of late I feel I've broken through to the "other side" of my transition where I just live my life as Emma, a woman who happens to be transgender. I feel very good, better and more excited about life than I've ever been. It occurred to me recently that hey, I'm actually living authentically and I love it! It's like it all snuck up on me without planning or awareness. I then realized that all these years I've been trying to cope, to live inauthentically, and wasn't even cognizant of it. 
    What I've learned is that when one is compelled to live inauthentically that begets more inauthenticity, like lies requiring additional layers to maintain their deceit. And I've been that way since before kindergarten, trying to live according to others' rules and expectations, utterly ashamed of my core need to be female. Maintaining all that is stressful and exhausting. As a teenager I well recall being on hair-trigger, ready to be slighted. As an adult I was often upset and I didn't know exactly why, often depressed, and like someone treading water in the ocean waiting for life to just be over. 
    At the risk of stating the obvious here it's amazing how important it is to live authentically! Just as inauthenticity leads to more inauthenticity, authenticity feeds on itself creating more authenticity, more satisfying relationships, all that stuff.
    Obviously (I hope) everyone's mileage may vary: I'm not preaching that everyone should transition or how they should go about achieving their own authenticity. I'm just so grateful to have gotten to where I am. Being an active member of the Transgender Guide among other things has helped me so much, I hope it helps you too. 
    Emma
  18. Emma

    I Got an F Today...

    By Emma,

    On my Washington state driver's license, that is! I sent in the US Passport revision application last week, requesting (and paying for) expedited service. I don't trust our government (you know who and if you don't what planet are you from?) to not suddenly change the rules, preventing me from obtaining this. Keep your fingers and toes crossed for me please!
  19. Emma

    As the Pink Fog Clears

    By Emma,

    The "Pink Fog" (aka, Gender Euphoria) is something many of us experience as we come into our transgender selves. It feels great, similar to the infatuation of a new love interest. For me I've wondered at times if I'm chasing it which brings up worries that I'm following something akin to the path of an addict instead of my true nature.
    This came up for me yesterday morning when I read a story in a friend's blog of a 20-something AMAB person who got so caught up in his being a somewhat effeminate gay man that, with encouragement and advice, he transitioned socially. After some period of living as a woman (a year?) he decided to detransition. Thankfully he'd not embarked on only permanent changes. He now lives comfortably as a somewhat effeminate gay man. 
    Later in the morning I was working on my house, finishing doors, installing shelving, that sort of thing, wearing of course my old Levi's 501's (no point in staining my skinny jeans!) and a sweatshirt, my hair in a ponytail. My gender was nowhere on my mind but I contemplated that story. I was comfortable doing my work. Dara Hoffman-Fox has made the point (which I agree with) that just because we like "masculine" activities such as motorcyling, woodworking, etc., that's perfectly okay for women. I reassured myself while doing the work. 
    In the early afternoon I changed my clothes to go out for some errands, including a run to the lumber store. I dressed in my skinny jeans, a form-fitting REI top, earrings, and a little lipstick. I felt good about myself as I drove to the stores. In Trader Joe's I ran into a woman checker that I've gotten to know a little in one of the aisles. She'd just gotten off work. We talked for ten minutes, she's lesbian and about to be married, I'm trans, we share worries about Trump/Pence/Pompeo/Sessions, that sort of thing. She accepts me, we connected and reminded each of other of our names. At the lumber store a man who often helps me assisted me in selecting moldings and as he was ringing me up a woman checker (who happens to be lesbian) I've also worked with there came over to join our chat. I showed them a photo of closet doors I've built out of spruce. 
    Still later I made a spur of the moment decision to walk to a local restaurant for one of my favorite things: reading my book while enjoying a hot chocolate with brandy. The manager's a woman I've gotten to know a little who's very friendly and appreciates the small amount of business I bring to them. 
    Every day is my "transgender day of visibility." I don't think I look bad, and sure I'd like to pass much better. I stopped wearing foundation several weeks ago. I wore it before almost like a badge to add clarity that I was presenting as a woman. I guess it worked but of late I don't think it's necessary and is a hassle to remove.  Like a pretty dress I save it for special occasions. (I'm such a sucker for pretty dresses. I can't resist!)
    At the end of the day it remained clear to me that transitioning to female was absolutely the right thing for me to do. I feel good in my own skin and I think I have a joy that encourages people to connect with me. I feel a thrill when I get gussied up and that's perfectly normal. I also feel good when just going out and about. 
    And that's the whole point, right?

  20. Emma

    On Coming Out

    By Emma,

    Coming out has been quite a journey for me. The first person I came out to was my therapist in 2014 and later that year my (now ex) wife. In 2015 I came out to several others, mostly therapists and people who participated in local trans groups. Toward the end of 2016 I came out individually to my two sons as well as a couple of friends. Last summer I sent an email to about 100 friends and colleagues, letting them in on my little secret. Yesterday was the biggest day thus far.
    Yesterday I updated my name, gender, and profile photo on Facebook. And an hour later I pulled the same ripcord on LinkedIn. I think now I'm about as out as I'll ever be. I've never felt as at peace and happy and proud to be me as I am now. Such a huge weight has been lifted off of my head and brain. 
    Funny story: before changing my FB presence I talked to my ex-wife for a couple of hours yesterday morning about all sorts of stuff but she didn't bring up the email I'd sent her informing her of my intention to change my FB name. So I brought it up. Her reply, "Oh that, good for you!"
  21. Emma

    "Eat, Pray, Love"

    By Emma,

    It seems that many (all?) Seattle neighborhoods—including mine—have these small kiosks where we can drop off books for others and choose from what's there, all for free. That's just so cool for someone like me who loves to read and I often wonder if others appreciate the ones I drop off. The other day I found "Eat, Pray, Love" by Elizabeth Gilbert. I started reading it and loved it so much. I found myself literally laughing out loud while reading it in coffee shops!
    On Sunday morning I curled up on my couch with a cup of coffee to finish it before getting ready to join some friends for lunch. In the last pages I came across some paragraphs that spoke to me directly:
    Excerpts from “Eat, Pray, Love”
    Page 327
    On my ninth day of silence, I went into meditation one evening on the beach as the sun was going down and I didn’t stand up again until after midnight. I remember thinking, “This is it, Liz.” I said to my mind, “This is your chance. Show me everything that is causing you sorrow. Let me see all of it. Don’t hold anything back.” One by one, the thoughts and memories of sadness raised their hands, stood up to identify themselves. I looked at each thought, at each unit of sorrow, and I acknowledged its existence and felt (without trying to protect myself from it) its horrible pain. And then I would tell that sorrow, “It’s OK. I love you. I accept you. Come into my heart now. It’s over.” I would actually feel the sorrow (as if it were a living thing) enter my heart (as if it were an actual room). Then I would say, “Next?” and the next bit of grief would surface. I would regard it, experience it, bless it, and invite it into my heart, too. I did this with every sorrowful thought I’d ever had—reaching back into years of memory—until nothing was left.
    Then I said to my mind, “Show me your anger now.” One by one, my life’s every incident of anger rose and made itself known. Every injustice, every betrayal, every loss, every rage. I saw them all, one by one, and I acknowledged their existence. I felt each piece of anger completely, as if it were happening for the first time, and then I would say, “Come into my heart now. You can rest there. It’s safe now. It’s over. I love you.” This went on for hours, and I swung between these mighty poles of opposite feelings—experiencing the anger thoroughly for one bone-rattling moment, and then experiencing a total coolness, as the anger entered my heart, as if through a door, laid itself down, curled up against its brothers and gave up fighting.
    Then came the most difficult part. “Show me your shame,” I asked my mind. Dear God, the horrors I saw then. A pitiful parade of all my failings, my lies, my selfishness, jealousy, arrogance. I didn’t blink from any of it, though. “Show me your worst,” I said. When I tried to invite these events of shame into my heart, they each hesitated at the door, saying, “No—you don’t want me in there … don’t you know what I did?” and I would say, “I do want you. Even you. I do. Even you are welcome here. It’s OK. You are forgiven. You are part of me. You can rest now. It’s over.”
    When all this was finished, I was empty. Nothing was fighting in my mind anymore. I looked into my heart, at my own goodness, and I saw its capacity. I saw that my heart was not even nearly full, not even after having taken in and tended to all those calamitous urchins of sorrow and anger and shame; my heart could easily have received and forgiven even more. Its love was infinite.
    I knew then that this is how God loves us all and receives us all, and that there is no such thing in this universe as hell, except maybe in our own terrified minds. Because if even one broken and limited human being could experience even one such episode of absolute forgiveness and acceptance of her own self, then imagine—just imagine!—what God, in all His eternal compassion, can forgive and accept.
    I also knew somehow that this respite of peace would be temporary. I knew that I was not yet finished for good, that my anger, my sadness and my shame would all creep back eventually, escaping my heart, and occupying my head once more. I knew that I would have to keep dealing with those thoughts again and again until I slowly and determinedly changed my whole life. And that this would be difficult and exhausting to do. But my heart said to my mind in thre dark silence of that beach, “I love you, I will never leave you, I will always take care of you.” That promise floated up out of my heart and I caught it in my mouth and held it there, tasting it as I left the beach and walked back to the little shack where I was staying. I found an empty notebook, opened it up to the first page—and only then did I open my mouth and speak those words into the air, letting them free. I let those words break my silence and then I allowed my pencil to document their colossal statement onto the page:
     “I love you, I will never leave you, I will always take care of you.”
    Those were the first words I ever wrote in that private notebook of mine, which I would carry with me from that moment forth, turning back to it many times over the next two years, always asking for help—and always finding it, even when I was mostly deadly sad or afraid. And that notebook, steeped through with that promise of love, was quite simply the only reason I survived the next years of my life.
    Page 329
    My thoughts turn to something I read once, something the Zen Buddhists believe. They say an oak tree is brought into creation by two forces at the same time. Obviously, there is the acorn from which it all begins, the seed which holds all the promise and potential, which grows into the tree. Everybody can see that. But only a few can recognize that there is another force operating here as well—the future tree itself, which wants so badly to exist that it pulls the acorn into being, drawing the seedling forth with longing out of the void, guiding the evolution from nothingness to maturity. In this respect, say the Zens, it is the oak tree that creates the very acorn from which it is born.
    I think about the woman I have become lately, about the life I am now living, and about how much I always wanted to be this person and live this life, liberated from the farce of pretending to be anyone other than myself. I think of everything I endured before getting here and wonder if it was me—I mean, this happy and balanced me, who is now dozing on the deck of this small Indonesian fishing boat—who pulled the other, younger, more confused and struggling me forward during all those hard years. The younger me was the acorn full of potential, but it was the older me, the already-existent oak, who was saying the whole time: “Yes—grow! Change! Evolve! Come and meet me here, where I already exist in wholesomeness and maturity! I need you to grow into me!” And maybe it was this present and fully actualized me who was hovering four years ago…
    Liz started her life-changing journey four years earlier. My journey also started exactly four years ago in 2014 when I started seeing a new therapist. At our first meeting I told him that I carried a tremendous secret shame that I'd never fully divulged to anyone and that, this time, I promised to go "open kimono" if he'd be patient and encouraging. He was kind and patient as it took me several months to even broach the possibility that I might be transgender. 
    Throughout our 3+ years together he talked about how to listen to our inner turmoils, accept and love them, and gently put them on a treasured shelf of trophies in my mind. Like many things like this it's much easier said than done. I think I know now how correct he, Zen, and Liz are. 
    To paraphrase the last paragraph I absconded from Liz's book: I think about the woman I have become and am becoming, the life and joys I am living, and how much I always wanted to be this person and live this life. Truly, I've never felt so at peace, such love, and happy. It's like I'm channeling Sally Field as she accepted her Oscar, "You like me, right now! You like me!" I'm a happy girl.
    Emma
    P.S. I suspect that Liz and her publisher would be okay with my copying about 1,000 words from her book. I heartily endorse it (and not just to appease the Plagiarism Gods). She's an amazing woman, a delightful writer, and tells an important story. 
     
     
  22. Emma

    My First Bra Fitting

    By Emma,

    I remember hearing that Nordstrom is trans-friendly and offered free bra fittings. But also, back then, I was terrified at the thought. I knew it might happen some day but when that day came I'd know that I'd have to have really come into my own in a much more secure way. 
    I've only purchased my bras on Amazon. They fit okay, and weren't that expensive. I measured myself with a band size of 38 and as my mother's was 34 I thought I was in the right ballpark. The first cup size was C because that's the size I felt was more ideal for my body size and here again, it was the same as my mom's. Later, I decided to go for size B since it may be that that's the best I'll be able to naturally grow into at my age.
    About a week ago I decided that I was sick and tired of one bra strap constantly falling down my arm, the band binding around my chest, and decided that it was time to go to Nordie's. I called and made an appointment. All went fine and easy. Yesterday (Valentine's Day) I met with a 20-something woman in the lingerie department. I wasn't particularly nervous, mostly just excited. We went into a private changing room, she asked me what I was looking for. I wanted to buy three bras that fit: black, beige, and white. I took off my top and she measured my band size at 36. Wow! 
    She then brought in several different ones, helped me with them. She didn't rush me at all, and had zero problem with my questions or not liking some of them. I eventually bought five: beige, white, light pink, and violet, and a black exercise bra. Oh, and a very pretty summer-weight robe, chemise, and pajama pants: gotta be ready for Spring, right?
    Amazing it was such a small bag for $500. But, you know, I'm very happy knowing that now I am wearing a pretty bra that fits, just for me. I don't know how much more Nordstrom shopping I can afford; Nordstrom Rack is more like it. But now I know what size to look for! 
    Happy Valentines!
  23. Emma

    Happy Birthday Monica!!!

    By Emma,

    I learned just a few minutes ago that Monica's birthday was last Friday, 1/19. Birthdays are a big deal, especially for those of us who're contending with being trans, lesbian, disabled, ... And heck, we keep getting OLDER. I'll not advertise Monica's age, will leave that up to her to divulge. That said this year is a milestone for her.
    Monica was the first to great me, with warmth and sincerity, when I joined TGG about 3 1/2 years ago. That was such a difficult time for me. It seemed clear that I was trans but I didn't really know enough to be 100% positive. I'd come out to my wife who was devastated. I was in a bad way, somehow found TG Guide, and Monica was there for me. 
    I greatly appreciate Monica's steadfast support and friendship. Please join in and wish her a Happy New Year and wonderful Birthday!
    Love to all,
    Emma
    P.S. For fun, more photos of my BFF, Miss Peanut:

  24. Emma
    I spent the evening with three girlfriends at a dinner show in downtown Seattle. I should have had a better time. I wore my new burgundy REI sweater dress, fleece-lined leggings, and a silver necklace. If I do say so myself, I looked nice. Nice that is, for me. 
    I'm not sure I should be writing this at all. After all I'm a moderator here. Aren't I supposed to be like a Camp Counselor who always knows the right thing to say, the right thing to do? That's what it seemed like when I went to camp, about fifty years ago I guess.
    My divorce from my wife is final as of about a week ago. We still talk, we love and miss each other, and I think we will always be in each other's lives. But nonetheless we are divorced. 
    I feel like I should be looking forward, excited about the future. Instead all too often I am so envious of women who get to just be what they are. Sure, they aren't perfect either. But their hairline isn't all receding, they have at least some sort of waist, and their voices are naturally feminine. And oh yeah, they don't have beards. Today I saw my electrologist for our weekly appointment. This week we were scheduled for only an hour because the dentist in the adjacent office is on vacation. She started working on my side burns but after 40 minutes I had to call it quits. It just hurt too much. I couldn't take it any longer. I guess I have another couple of years worth of appointments to look foreword to. 
    I'm so blessed and so lucky and yet I feel so blue. I feel guilty for that, like I shouldn't feel this way. But we know that everyone's feelings are valid. I should approach them mindfully, accept them, don't fight them, and in fact, embrace them. Use them to help point the way I should go, don't let fear and hurt drag me down. If it were that easy...
    The good news is that I adopted a two-year old cat about a month ago, Peanut, whose photo is below. She seems to like me. I like her too. 

  25. Emma
    People in Seattle take advantage of sunny/rain-free days and I'm no exception. I love walking from my house through a local park and then along Lake Washington for several miles. It's very large, with a total shoreline that's probably around 60-70 miles and of course I come no where near that. It's ringed with parks and walking/running paths and just lovely.
    Today I was talking with my wife (via phone) while walking. She's in California and has never seen me presenting authentically. She asked if I was wearing my "lady clothes" and I assured her that yes, that's what I always do. Today's no different. She asked me to have someone snap a photo and send it to her.
    So here it is: no makeup, hair's a mess, but it's me, very comfortable in my own skin. Wow, I just happened to notice that I joined TGGuide just over three years ago. What a long space trip it's been!

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