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I had a brief email exchange with one of my bosses yesterday, it started off with me distinguishing between "shopping" and "buying" (I won't go into the boring details of how that came up), and I said - "If only the people in the mailroom knew what was in the many packages I get delivered here…" Her response (she knows about my cross-dressing, but not that I'm TG) - "Ha ha. They'd think you were surprising your girlfriend I bet. You really don't tip off the layperson." I honestly found that her comment bothered me - I wasn't upset at her at all, it just made me wish that I "really DID" tip off the layperson more. This isn't a big deal at all, she only sees me at work and I know I'll have to further along in my journey before I push the envelope too much at work. The point of this is that it did give me the little extra motivation I needed this morning to go to the gym in the new cute pair of shorts that I got recently. Those, along with the t-shirt and running shoes I wore, created a pretty decidedly female look :)

well today has been another day.... I mean what are we here for? to think the way we live is a choice---really the stupidest thing I have ever heard. I pluck my facial hair because I don't want stubble....let a man do that---lmbo----he would cry like--ironically a girl---- I live for me and refuse to live for whatever society thinks I should. I say once and forall deal with me world because I am real and I am here.

Hi all, I heard about this book in several blogs and/or forums last week as I was catching up, and I immediately purchased it. I've gotten about a quarter of the way through it (I picked up the pace considerably when I decided to read it during my commute, which is when I do most of my reading). I just finished the section on childhood years and it's already had a substantial impact on my thinking. In terms of being transsexual I would probably say that I'm not, but as I read more I become less and less convinced of that. I'd still say probably not, but the book is definitely making me think more. There were just so many examples they discuss of how children respond to being transgender that resonated with me (if it had just been a couple it might have been coincidence, but it was more). So to anyone and everyone who mentioned the book - thank you! xoxo Christie

Last week I had a disturbing experience at the therapist-led Transgender support group meeting I attend each month. It left me sad and disillusioned, and depressed. Today, five days later, I'm feeling better so that's good. I've thought about writing this in my blog but I've been very torn. I don't like to hear myself complain or whine and I don't know what the point of this post is anyway. Maybe we'll learn together. Prior to the support group meeting things were looking brighter. My wife had told me that she wants us to stay together, and that while she still has lots of reservations about what I'm dealing with, she wants us to work it out. And on Wednesday evening we had a couples meeting with our therapist that was very productive. Thursday evening was the TG support group. I'm gradually feeling a little more confident/adventurous so I wore my ballet flats as well as a new women's long sleeved shirt that I ordered from REI. It's pretty androgynous but with its sleeve details and boatneck it's definitely not male. One more little step for me. As usual, the moderator/therapist (I'll call her Susan) called on the members around the room one by one to talk about what's going on for them. There were four transsexual women (at least on HRT and a couple have had their GCS surgery). The first one talked about some things going on for her at work. Evidently she's an executive at a local technology company. The second one talked about lectures she's been giving at Stanford and some papers she's writing or contributed to. The third one (I call her Pamela, more about her later) talked about having a retaining wall built at her house and travel plans she and her wife have coming up, and the fourth was tired and didn't talk much. Finally, Susan got to me. I was surprised that no one seemed to have anything to say about being transgender or whatever. I figured, okay, I'm the new girl and not nearly as far along. So, I started by giving them an update on how things are going better for me, how I'm finally internalizing to myself that I am in fact transgender. I made a small joke that I'm probably the first person to question that about themselves. Pamela, who is 72 and fully transitioned, often tends to set herself up as the know-it-all and this evening was no different in that regard. For some reason she started firing questions at me and making statements, like: "The most important thing is how well you pass as a woman." I responded that I am not ready for that but that yes, eventually, I may want to, but I may end up being satisfied coming only "part of the way out" in public. "If your gender is female then you need to decide what kind of female you are. And if you don't know you'd better do some serious introspection." I told her that in fact I have done one heck of a lot of introspection and that gradually I think I'm making progress. "Or maybe you're just going to give up on this?" As if I might purge or otherwise decide I am not transgender. As if she cares or has a reason to care? I told her that no, at this stage in the game for me, it's clear that I cannot deny it. About this time I asked her why she was hectoring me like she was, "pushing my back against the wall." She responded that I had asked her questions (which I had not) and that therefore she has the right to ask me questions too. She went on for a while longer. I felt like I was on the witness stand and unless I kept answering and in a nice way I was going to lose. I almost started crying a couple of times. Finally, Susan (the therapist) said I was doing fine and we kind of stopped. Since I was the last one, we then made plans for where we would meet for dinner. As I left the office I noticed that Susan's mouth and lips were kind of trembling. I wondered why but later on reflection I think she was also deeply affected. The following morning I woke up very sad, despondent. I realized that the whole thing had affected me very deeply. I wrote this email to Susan: Dear Susan, You asked me at dinner how I was doing and I thought I was fine. This morning I'm sad. Pamela was mean and rude to me last night. Maybe it sounds silly but I came close to crying a couple of times; even now as I think about the interchange with her I am tearing up. To me, "transgender support group" is a meeting where it's understood that we're all at different places in our journeys and its members are there for each other, to support, provide their thoughts and ideas, and overall, provide a safe place to be vulnerable and open among what might become a group of friends and compatriots. Instead, Pamela took the opportunity to question everything about me, if I'm "woman enough", committed to being trans enough, present feminine enough, ... all cast in the "reasonable" light of "Well, you asked me questions so I can ask you too." I asked questions of the group, not of Pamela specifically, and certainly not of the insulting nature of her's. I suppose she has her own issues and maybe that's one reason she attends the group. On the way to our cars Katie kindly patted me on the back for standing up to Pamela, saying she needs to be taken down a peg or two from time to time. Fine, but that's no excuse for Pamela's being a bully. Our conceptions of what it means to be female are based on inner feelings, observations, and perhaps some wishful thinking. To me, part of being feminine means it's okay to be lighthearted and sweet, vulnerable and feeling, sensitive and caring. So, I am saddened this morning as I consider what happened and what I should do next. Pamela gave me an insincere apology at dinner. I am glad she will not attend the meeting until August. I'm not sure but I doubt I will attend future meetings when she will be present. Emma Here is the email I received from Susan: Emma, I was upset re group interaction last nite as well. I could not sleep. I plan to talk to Pamela via phone later this afternoon or before she leaves for Paris. She was definitely confrontive. I am not sure what she was trying to do. I do understand your feelings and suspect the others felt the same way. I agree with your description of being feminine. Try to put it away. She is not important in your life. Susan So that's it. This confrontation brought up so much for me. Like arguments I had with my mother when I was preschool and could not express myself. Or when I was taunted and teased by neighborhood bullies in elementary school, whom I wanted to be friends with. The weekend sucked, as I kept replaying the whole thing. I'm sure we'll discuss this at the next support group meeting when, thankfully, Pamela will not attend because she'll be travelling. Unfortunately that will be four weeks from now. I don't know what set her off. Not that there is a reasonable justification for her behavior. Maybe she's impatient with me. After all, she's transitioned, about 10-15 years ago, maybe she thinks I'm being whimpy. Or maybe she was pissed that I seem to be making slow progress, and that I'm not at all sure I will want or need to transition. Like I said, I thought this meeting was supposed to be a safe place. Susan didn't interrupt Pamela and I don't know why. I suspect she was caught completely off guard. Maybe what seemed to take 10 minutes to me was only a couple and it took her a while to react? I forgive her nonetheless. And here again, I'll be asking about it when we meet again. So what's the point(s) we should take from this? I guess that it's just real life in action. Crap happens. I'd like to say it doesn't matter. I feel like I'd be a better person if I did. Over time I'm sure I'll be okay. Emma

As I increasingly accept my transgender self I find understanding of past issues and behaviors that I have often wondered about. Two in particular have become clear very recently. 1. Unexplainable breakups As a teen and young adult I had plenty of girlfriends. I suppose I was attractive enough, "nice," and possibly they sensed a level of kindness and sensitivity that was lacking in other boys and young men. Several of these relationships went on for a long time and seemed to be headed for marriage until I just had to break it off. That was incredibly hard for me since I hated the thought of hurting these girls/women and perhaps worse, I didn't have the words to tell them why I just had to do it. Now I know. I could not find the courage or vocabulary to tell them about my transgender feelings and desires. And, I could not risk their telling other friends and associates any of it. So after the exhilaration of having a soul mate I broke it off and broke their hearts and mine. Thus, I sincerely apologize to Stacy, Leslie, Megan, Jane, Deanne, and others I've hurt. I've carried a lot of guilt over the years about my behavior and I hope that at some point you found in your hearts to forgive me. 2. Secrecy is the breeding ground for negative assumptions For most of my life I've had fears and intuitions that my parents, friends, wive(s), sons, and associates were mad at me or otherwise disappointed. I'm realizing now that the root of this is my almost unceasing review of whether or not my secret has been exposed. Also, I've always had such a strong need for external validation, often sacrificing (and rarely sharing) my wants and desires in order to gain favor. I apologize to myself for this. I also forgive myself. I really have always tried to be as good a person as I can be. Here again, accepting and disclosing my transgendered nature is good for me. You've come a long way, baby! Photo: a cathedral in Helsinki, Finland.

This post has nothing to do with transgender so you can tune out if you wish; It's about my almost-27 year old son. Since he was five or six he's been very independent, stubborn, and willful, making lots of challenges for me and his mother (we're divorced). He's also bright, attractive, and has a wonderful personality... when he's not depressed and sour. A couple of days ago he told me that his mother is going to stop paying the rent on his cheap apartment. He wasn't asking me to pick it up, as he knew I would not. Essentially what happened is that for at least the past year or two she's been paying the rent each month, saying "Okay, I'll do it again this time, but this is really the last time. You must get a job, you know you can. Just do it and hold on to it." Instead he played video games, watched TV, surfed the Web, smoked marijuana, hung out, or stayed in bed, depressed. So now, finally, he's really going to be cut loose. To sink or swim. He and I don't yell or fight. We enjoy each other's company, I pay for a burger and a beer, and we talk. He easily acknowledges his part in all this. And now he feels that despite the fact that he has a couple of weeks to get a job he's planning to be homeless. He told me that he thinks this will finally teach him the value of money, his things, and so forth. Oh sure, we talked about all the downsides of being homeless. He did it once before about ten years ago for a couple of weeks. But after a lot of talk and his (to me) rather strange confidence in this plan, I told him it's his decision. I told him how much I worry about him, getting robbed/beat-up/murdered, sick, thrown in jail, etc. Also, I worry about me: that I just know that within a month or two he will call and say that he just has to have $50. Or that he's in jail and needs bail. And I will have to say no. My mother (yes, the one who committed suicide) is the one who taught me, "Sometimes the most loving thing to say is No" and I think she was quite right. I told my son this, too, and he agreed that I should tell him no. And he also said that he's pretty sure that in fact he will still probably call to ask for the cash. And he knows I'll say no. Jeez, it's taken so long for us to get to this juncture. I started saying no to him and his mom after the 3rd or 4th attempt at college: "This time really, I'm committed, I'll do it!" A couple of years ago I offered him this: if he pays for his classes and books, I will reimburse him as follows: for an A he would receive 100%; a B gets 75%, and a C is worth 50%. Anything less is zero. He's tried to do that a couple of times; I paid 100% for a pottery class once. I don't care what classes he takes. Just learn something. He also assured me yesterday that no matter what he has no plans or thoughts about suicide. He will figure something out. I sure hope so. Tough love. It is tough to love. By the way, this has all been reviewed with a variety of therapists and counselors over the years. I'm sure I could have done a better job back when he was a child. My wife says no, but I am sure of it. But I really did do the best I could. Emma