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Well good evening!! This blog will serve different purposes for me, the main one is that it helps calm me down when I write, and I am able to express myself better thru writing. The transition is happening later in my life, I am 46, almost 47. I have been married for 21 years and have a son who is 15. And let me preface the spouse and son ARE NOT supporters. I am 13 months into my journey, and it has been anything but smooth. I had just gotten a job as a big time corporate chef and working at a college, finding acceptance would be easy. Well to a point. I worked for a global fortune 100 company that had a pretty good HRC score, but alas we are located in Wyoming. Yep. A beautiful state, but still not to accepting. Now understand that I am not a trans female who wants to stand out, I want to blend in. I don't want to draw attention to myself. I don't wear dresses or skirts, I am a jeans and slacks kinda girl. Some have asked why not wear stuff other that boring jeans and slacks. The answer is simple. Dresses don't fit my personality. But to me it is the outward appearance that caused me to derail. I will explain. See to me, getting on the hormones and wearing make up and such was so important, and yet that was my biggest problem. The outward look. Not an issue of passing or not passing ( I hate those terms), it was i worried so much about the outward, I didn't deal with the inward struggles. I was so worried about looking the part, i made a mess of the transition. No let me correct that...a huge mess of things. I regret how a lot of things went down, but while i can't change what was, i can sure make sure to fix the mistakes of the past. Well thats where i will leave it for now. I will write more tomorrow evening. Thanks lovlies!!!

I’ve felt like crying many times in the last few decades but have never been able to really let it go. Yesterday was different. Fair warning: I don’t mean for this to be a “pity party” at all and I hope it doesn't come off that way. <big sigh> As my wife and I walked to our neighborhood coffee shop yesterday morning I mentioned something that had been bothering me since the previous evening. Our therapist has encouraged me to communicate this stuff so I was following orders. Now, my wife has also been going through some of her own emotionally trying times. She stopped walking, we faced each other and she said, “I’m going to say something that may sound very hurtful right now. I really wish you’d stop thinking of yourself all the time.” Indeed, she was right, I was hurt pretty deeply. Telling someone that they’re overly sensitive, only care about themselves, and all that, is about the meanest thing you can say to someone. Sure, it “puts them in their place” but more than anything it’s like slamming a door in their face. Afterward, the recipient can only wonder “Am I now again being so self-centered?” And since they face the risk of hearing those words again, they shut down, which only builds resentments and yes, sensitivity to minor slights. I thought about all that as we had our coffees. I wasn’t sure what to do. I wasn’t going to bring it up more at the café. And I didn’t want to talk about it on the way home, either. When we entered our house I said that I had something to say and we sat on the couch facing each other. I told her that I have heard that line so many times in my life and I don’t think it’s accurate to say I am so self-centered. It’s such a hurtful thing to say especially to someone like me who is so careful to “learn all the rules” that people around me want to live by. I try to be “good” by internalizing and following them. And now the message I’ve received from her is that I should just shut down. At that point I was so sad. I told her that I wished I was dead. I meant it. I don’t mean to be dramatic here but it’s true. Shouldering my trans feelings and shame since I was so young, trying to fit in, and always so careful to not be discovered for not really belonging with the boys, girls, men, or women. It sucks. She gave me a big hug, told me how much she loves me, and told me how upset and angry she’d be if I did myself in. I think I told her that it was unlikely I'd follow through but I do often think that life is like a life term in prison, just waiting for the end. She then suggested we go lie down on the bed. When we got in there I told her how sorry I am that I’m “this way.” That I am definitely not trying to manipulate her into something she doesn’t want. About then I mumbled that I just don’t want to be rejected. And I started to cry. Sobbing, with those jerking shoulders, tears, and all. I think I carried on for four or five minutes. She kept assuring me that it was okay, that I should let it out. When I was done I didn’t really feel like it was all let out. In fact, she asked me how I felt and I said it felt uncontrollable, like throwing up. You know, running to the bathroom and then convulsing uncontrollably. She agreed that that's what it's like for her, too. So, that’s it. After waiting more than a half century, I finally got some real tears shed. I think it was helpful but I can tell there are more in there. It’s good to know that I have the capacity to do it. I suppose it’s also good for my wife to know how deeply I feel. I’m very lucky and grateful to be married to her. Emma