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jennifer38

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  1. Over the past several days, I've been coming out a little more. Back on 2-22, I told my oldest sister and her fiance. It all started when I mentioned that I feel like several people live in me and at least one of them is a girl. The only reaction I got was when my sister told me not to get the surgery, and she believes Bruce Jenner would not look good as a woman. I told her that I'm not sure where this will lead. I couldn't afford treatment, anyway, and the pain would really make a cry baby out of me. Just yesterday, I let my one friend from church hear more about it. This is the same one I told back on February 8 and I wrote about it in the first blog about spilling the beans. I let him know this is far from over, because I spent so many years trying to deny this thing, swearing up and down that I cannot be this way. My friend believes I might have to receive my sight in order for this to go away. He reassured me that I'm still part of the body of Christ. This friend dreamed, several years ago, about me receiving my sight. He strongly believes it's going to come true, someday. In the meantime, he's keeping my transgender confession between us. Any time I'm alone with him, I feel I am going to have to keep pouring this stuff out and getting it off my chest. I cannot even open up to my parents about this. It will give them more of a reason to call me a weirdo and tell me I just need to grow up. I've heard that stuff, all my life, for other reasons. Anyway, a key confession I told my friend, yesterday, is how, when it comes to needing someone to lead me to a bathroom, I prefer women to do it instead of men, never mind my biological designation as male. I am more concerned with what's between my ears and what's inside this shell of flesh and bones. The friend never criticized or warned me I will go to hell if I don't straighten up and fly right. He just listened. He's at a loss as to what to tell me other than his belief that it would have to come with divinely receiving eyesight through Jesus' healing power. I am a firm believer in miracles, and I ask God, all the time, to heal me, as I am created by Him and for Him. As long as he leaves the thorn in me, he will give me the grace to deal with it. That's especially comforting when I often have to deal with unexplainable physical discomfort I get in the manly region. Doctors haven't been able to figure out why I burn down there. I don't always empty the bladder, and that's a mystery. All they can say is I just need to learn to live with it. I told the friend of this bizarre connection between the feeling female around men, something that's been there since I was 4 or 5, and the burning sensation I've had for several years. We just leave it up to God. Only he knows what good is possibly going to come from all of this. So, as for now, I am blind and I am transgender, and there's nothing I can do about it. I cannot deliver myself. It's up to God, and if he's at all offended by the way I am, he alone will change it. It is what it is. He knows I long to be saved in the end.
  2. In The Bible, Apostle Paul talks, very vaguely of a thorn that was given to him, a messenger of Satan to buffet him. He never tells us what that thorn was. He does tell us he asks God three times to take it out, but Jesus tells him "my grace is sufficient for you" God told Paul that the strength of God is made perfect in weakness. Paul learned how to use his thorn as a way of keeping himself humble. "so, Jennifer," you may be asking. "How does this relate to you and your being transgender?" Well, this feeling of being transgender seems to bother me if I let it do so. I feel shame for feeling opposite of what my fleshly gender is, and I have begged and pleaded with God for years to take it from me. The more I beg, the deeper the thorn slices into me. Then, it suddenly occurs to me that this could very well be God's unique way to draw me closer to Him and learn submission. Paul learned to delight in infirmities, rather than feel sorry for himself. He accepted the strength of God being perfected in Paul's weakness. God strengthens me in my weakness, as well. I find that my being transgender actually draws me closer to Him. Here's how this works. God has three manifestations: Father, Son, and Holy Ghost. I am created in His image, and I have three manifestations: body, soul, and spirit. Here's how I break this down. My body is masculine, and I assume my male name and functions. Jesus calls Himself the "bridegroom." He is going to marry His church, His body of redeemed believers, and I am one of them. Since he is after our soul and spirit, and since our earthly bodies are temples that house our soul and spirit, then I let the inner me assume the female role. My soul is a woman named Jennifer who is engaged to be married to Jesus when he comes and takes His bride home. My spirit is Jennifer already joined to God via the Holy Ghost who leads me. I know the above was really deep, and there's a lot to digest, but I will do my best to sum it up for you. My flesh is undeniably masculine, and my inner woman is represented by my soul that is being redeemed and being made ready for that eternal marriage in heaven, and my spirit, that innermost part of me rejoices in her husband. My "Jennifer self" knows of no greater man than Jesus Christ who died on the cross, not just for her, but for all, and those of us who accept redemption from our sinful nature can enjoy eternal life with Him, for we, the saved, as a result of being born again, will live in a perfect world without end and without problems of any kind, and our flesh will no longer hurt us, for we will have perfect bodies. To sum it up even more, my inner woman is spoken for. Jesus is the right man for me. He's the only husband I'll ever need. That truly is a unique way God has me think of the transgender part of my existence. I think I smell roses.
  3. Yesterday in my phone conference, Monica and I got on an interesting topic. She told me about this book she read where people would see the image of themselves as the opposite gender when they looked in the mirror. Having never seen, I cannot relate to the visual aspect of that. However, I can imagine things from an auditory standpoint. Through the years, I've noticed that my inner voice sounds higher than my spoken voice. This happens quite subconsciously without me trying to make it happen. I don't even pay strict attention to it, but now and then, I become acutely aware of it. Furthermore, more often than not, I notice my voice sounds higher in my dreams. The more I think about that, the more I remember that dreams are an expression of the subconscious mind. I just thought I'd share this interesting tidbit of information. Ever since yesterday, I've been obsessing more on that, and even though I cannot get my outer voice to match the pitch of my inner voice, I have been trying to talk in a somewhat higher voice. I will never get the outer to fully match the inner, but it is fun to see how high I can go before sounding off the wall and putting myself in danger of hurting my throat. Toward the end of the conference, I tried talking a little higher pitched, and I practice that when I'm by myself.
  4. If it was possible to exchange parts, I'd give you mine and I could have the ones you don't want anymore. You're braver than I am, brother. In the real world, I must keep my Jennifer to myself and be the man the world expects me to be and it's all because of a certain set of parts--the center of guilty pleasure and strange discomfort. That is why I'm so glad I found this website and I am able to hold teleconferences where I can put my masculinity on the shelf and be the lady I could never otherwise be, heck with my physical makeup and the undeniable male voice. There's just something weirdly wonderful about being addressed by a female name. Had I been biologically female, I would have actually been named Jennifer, but the closest I dare use that name is on a musical instrument. I gave that name to my autoharp, like B.B. King called his guitar Lucille. Anyway, I'm glad there are online places where I can ditch the maleness for a while.
  5. Here's another perfect example of how the goings-on in the world highly influence conversation. I knew it would only be a matter of time before I opened up more. Yesterday, on the way home from church, my elderly gentleman friend who drives me to and from church happened to mention Bruce Jenner. Keep in mind that the lid on the bean container, metaphorically speaking, of course, has been loose for quite some time. Mentioning the transitioning star tipped over the container and.... You know what happened. I admitted my secret inner issues to the outreach director of my church, no less. He reassured me everything will be all right and God will get me through it. I can only hope he, my friend who drives me, realizes this conversation is far from over. I've held back for so long, trying to disguise this inner woman, and I am seeing how denying something only makes it worse. I am relieved by him telling me that he will pick me up, next Sunday, Lord willing and weather permitting. Still, that's a first step. I can't hold it in forever, and pretending just does not work, anymore. I let him know I've been coming to this website, not giving out the name. He was very calm about this confession. He assured me there's nothing wrong in telling him about this. I feel good he's not going to stop taking me to church over this. I can rest assured he's praying for God's will to be done in this sensitive and personal situation. The last thing I wanted to do was tell any of my Christian friends about this. I thought God would've secretly cured me of this by now, but it's not happening that way. I'm not giving up on His help, but I have to accept there's no magical way out. Jesus is the Father who knows best for me. He created me and he knows why I'm so divided like this.
  6. As I come out among other fellow trans people, I'm finding out just how large the "umbrella" really is. There's such a wide variety. I used to think you had to have hormones and surgery in order to be transgender, but I know that's not the case, necessarily. Everybody's different. I'm too poor to afford hormones and surgery, and I don't like pain. I do not cross dress, and I'm not criticizing anybody who does. If you saw me, you'd see a perfectly masculine body, and my voice is likewise male. Okay? What's so transwoman about you? It's my innermost feelings. Couple that with the fact that I like the sound of girls' names more than guys' names, and I've always wanted to be called by a female name. Additionally, I find myself, more and more, as I get older, wishing I could use the ladies' restroom, never mind my parts. I cannot pretend to be against the thought of lawmakers trying to make it legal to choose the bathroom you'd be most comfortable using. I am through with pretending, and yet I tremble at the thought of the backlash I'd receive. I mean, I find myself wishing I could be justified in using the ladies' room, simply because I sit... Also, I get my strongest inner woman feelings around guys. I virtually always feel like a girl amidst guys. I can't explain myself. Other than that, I like my short hair and other male features, though I sometimes wish my voice was higher. This is why I consider myself a transgender female, though I don't look or sound the part. This is why I love this website. I can leave my real name out of it and identify as a girl, never mind the features. My inner man is a woman.
  7. As I see it, right now, reading this story makes me glad I choose to be the non-op variety of transwomen. At least in a website setting like this, I can let my inner girl out and be recognized as a girl by the other members of this site. There's a time and place for everything.
  8. I picture myself as a woman who doesn't worry about makeup. Not being able to see, I overlook the visual aspects.
  9. jennifer38

    11/29/2014

    I know how you feel, Lisa. I wonder if my designation is bi-gender. Like you, I can be accepting of my manhood, sometimes, but not always. I'm examining my own feelings the most I've ever tried. I've given up on pretending. On here, I will still use the transgender designation, because this is where I can act as a girl in the virtual world and hang out with others who do likewise. Just this year alone, I've stumbled upon terms I've never heard before, terms like "gender fluid" and "bi-gender." I'm still trying to figure out what applies to me. Of course, I'm expecting my Heavenly Father to shed light on these dark areas. Jesus is my number 1 therapist, and if he wants me to also use human intervention, he shall divinely appoint the person/people who will help.
  10. I've been compulsively checking this site for messages, as well. I've been experiencing record obsession over transgender stuff. I know how you feel, Emma. In other news, I have an Iphone. I have a 6. I'm using it, right now, typing on a bluetooth keyboard. Horray for Apple working to make their products blind accessible.
  11. I have this thing for acronyms made out of names. Here's one for my transgender name. I only added the number on my user name to differentiate from others named Jennifer. J is for just. I want to be a just and fair person like Jesus was and still is. I aim to follow the golden rule: do unto others as you would have them do for you. The first E stands for encouraging. I want to encourage--not force--people to accept the unconditional love of Christ and the reason he bled and died for us. He knows what we struggle with. The first of the N's simply means nice. I am striving to be a nice and pleasant person. I can get mean-spirited, but I am not happy being that way. I'm a work in progress, and the Master helps me. N number 2 means nonjudgmental. I'm working on that one, because I'm not the Judge. That job is Jesus' and His alone. I is for inspirational. I want to positively inspire the people around me. I love it when I can do it in a positive manner. Forgiving is the F word in this list. Jesus is the perfect example of that. Easier said than done, I know, but I want to do better. When he was bleeding to death, Jesus said "Father forgive them. They know not what they do" The second E is for enduring trials. Life gives us unpleasant things to deal with, no matter who we are and what we believe or don't believe. I need help in dealing with bad things without falling to pieces. Please help, dear Lord. Finally, R means reverencing the Lord. I owe Him my utmost respect. He's done more for me than I deserve, even before I was ever born. Even in the midst of my own struggles and confusion, I look to Him for the way through. I hope this lifts and inspires all who read. I love you all, and Jesus loves you more. Blessings and peace on everyone.
  12. I'm glad we're warming back up to near 50, today, and closer to 60, tomorrow. Of course, it's the end of November and things go up and down, this time of year. Emotionaly, I'm up because I found a place where I can let my inner woman do the talking. That's pretty cool. I get a sense of release just doing this.

  13. I am guessing the profile feed is where I can write random things? I'm still figuring this out. There's so many things we can do, here. This is the one place where I can let my inner girl out and forget about the outer man for a while. I'm just chilling out on this day after Thanksgiving. I'm digesting yesterdays' great food. We will probably have leftovers tonight or later this weekend, maybe Sunday. It's cold in PA, but things will get milder, tomorrow. This...

  14. I discovered my inner girl around age 4 or 5. I vaguely remember wanting to wear my oldest sister's clip-on earrings, and my mom actually put them on me. I walked around with them on for a little while. Then, I think it was me who asked to have them taken off. A year or so later, I can recall walking, for a short spell, in my mom's high heels. Also, around that time, I did this goofy thing where I'd call myself by the name of various female neighbors. That would later evolve into having imaginary friends and playing with my sister's dolls. For Christmas of 1982, when I was 6, I got a Ken doll. I still wanted to play with my sister's Barbies after that, and I recall playing Barbie with my sister. My youngest sister was born in 1983, and I would play with her dolls, too. My parents tried to get me to enjoy more boyish toys, but I'd even pretend my toy soldiers were girls. I was more likely to make most stuffed animals as girl characters. I tried to have boy imaginary friends and accept some stuffed animals as boys. I never tried to feminize my Cabbage Patch doll I got for Christmas of '85. Still, though, I had pretend friends, and girls far outnumbered the guys. There's just something about girls' names that I, to this day, like better than guys' names. I remember an incident in the spring of 1984 when I used to play with a hunk of modelling clay. One day, I asked my dad to make a person out of the clay. He made a man, and I threw a major tantrum. I wanted a girl. He angrily took the clay from me and fixed it so I'd shut up. As I moved into puberty, I seemed to have somewhat easier success accepting masculine things. Still, there where times when I pretended my Alf doll was a girl. Now, I kept the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles as guys. Michaelangelo was my favorite, and I impersonated him. Like narly, dude. Cowabunga. Still, below all that, the inner woman lodged, deep in the basement of my mind. She often came to the surface of my mind when I was with any man at all for any reason. That's always the way it is, and it's only gotten stronger in recent years. More often than not, I feel like a girl in the midst of guys or a girl sitting next to a guy. It's not a sexual attraction. That much I can explain, but the rest is unexplainable. Anyway, that's my transgender history from what I can think of. If more memories come to the surface, I may blog about them.
  15. Over the years, from hearing about other trans people and examining my own self, I have concluded that just like autism, transgenderism has various levels. I am not sure how I would classify mid-level transgenderism, but I can clearly see both ends of the spectrum. This morning, I watched a YouTube video Emma shared with me. The link is as follows: I saw that those children are an example of the high end of the spectrum, even at a very early age. I, on the other hand, am on the low end. I do not want to cross dress, as it violates my personal conviction that is based on Deuteronomy 22:5, in The Holy Bible, where it is written that a man shall not wear a woman's garment, and vice versa. I am paraphrasing, here, and am not trying to impose my beliefs on anybody. I have been delivered from my judgmental and condemning attitude I used to have. Anyway, another thing that puts me on the low end of the spectrum is how I like my hair to be short. Again, the Bible shows me, personally, that it's a shame for men to have long hair. Again, please don't see me as preachy. I'm merely voicing personal convictions. You may be wondering why I consider myself trans, then. I still have, as I've stated aforetime, the classic feeling of inner female. There's nothing on my outer shell that is remotely feminine, save for a slightly larger breast on the left side, something that has shrunk since I lost nearly 40 pounds between 2009 and 2013. My female feelings have only grown. I have tried ignoring and rebuking and suppressing and disguising them, and yet I still have progressed to the point that I, just last Saturday, searched the Web for transgender support and happened upon this site. After some hesitation and prayer, I took the plunge, just the other day, and signed up. I'm glad I did. By meeting others, I can compare and contrast my experiences with theirs. I have concluded pretending and ignoring and disguising does not work. I believe even God wants me to be honest, and so I am thankful that you don't necessarily need surgery to be classified as transgender. I also have a growing discomfort of men's restrooms. Blame that on the inner woman, something that feels more real when I'm with the guys. It neutralizes when I'm with the girls, weird as that sounds.
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