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I was watching a television show called "American Odyssey" where men in the show (in North Africa) are walking around in robes. I stopped and thought, wow, I have completely forgotten what it's like to have male parts swaying around between my legs and it has been just over four months since those parts went away. Now I can't fathom this at all, what was it like, nope, no memories. I think part of it was that after 2013 I was tucked 98 percent of the time as I could not bear to things moving around between my legs. I honestly thought about the above for a good 30 minutes and zilch. Thinking of my new breast, I am guessing in time the same will happen, can't remember what it was like to be flat chested. In the end not remembering things from the past is yet more closure

oooh. How satisfying Sun bathing with my transman friend today he commented on how cool it was that each of us was there on the beach in the bodies that we'd worked so hard for. I'm already forgetting the flat chested feeling - really looking forward to the next step. It's been nice to read about your journey after SRS! It's a little comforting as I am gearing up to go under the knife.

So, first off I want to apologize for my last blog post, I apparently was having a bad day/night and needed to vent. I do want to thank everyone for their words of encouragement and assure you that I am less RAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAWRRRRRR today and more ZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzZZZZZZZZZZZZzzzzzzzzzzz JUST BECAUSE IM THAT BIPOLAR. Yup, that is my life. SO, on another note, it IS Wednesday, and as some of you may know, it is my YOUTUBE POST day. So I have posted my weekly youtube post, and here ya go>>>> or (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=y04F-D5GmvU) for those of you that the video doesnt show up on. Just...ya know.....click it. I SAID CLICK IT~! Surprised that I have a good handful of subscribers already but who knows? Maybe this was a good idea after all! Gives me something to do anyway. Otherwise nothing going on. Therapist still wont send me my files, I have to call them AGAIN in about an hour, which leads me to wonder if I even have a file or if she was just bullshitting me the whole time and has NOTHING written down which would annoy me to no end. And despite what I have been told, I have decided to stop taking my Zoloft. Not only because I've been off from it for two weeks anyway (headache free, might I add) but because I notice NO DIFFERENCE with taking it versus NOT taking it. I get the same depressing outcome anyway, so.......why add more chemicals to my day if they're not at least beneficial? Seems a waste. ANYWHORE, I'm going out for dinner at Papa Gino's (pizza place) with the bf tonight despite my soul-crushing dysphoria, so wish me luck on that one that I dont have a mental breakdown and shatter some faces . SIDENOTE: Omagerd I soooooo wanna get some transpride buttons for my backpack or something. I'm not so huge on the tshirts because for whatever reason I almost feel awkward (not embarrassed just.....pass) on wearing my trans pride shirts. Simply because I get a lot of awkward stares or disapproving glares WHICH I KNOW I SHOULD IGNORE but it still gets to me. SO, I think I'll stick to my plaids. Havent cut in two-or three- days so I guess that's a plus. Got all my aggrivation out I guess, I dont know. STAY AWESOME. Warren

Warren, So glad that you're feeling better! Hopefully your therapist will FINALLY come through with the file for you. I look forward to watching your video (shortly). And enjoy your pizza tonight! xoxo Christie

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

It has been about a month on hormones, all-in-all things have been going well, better. The meds have had a calming and emotionally stabilizing affect on me. However, self-doubts have crept in. It was particularly difficult this past weekend. Where I feel like I am throwing my life away, self-loathing, suicidal thoughts. And I have to keep reminding myself that there is a reason why I am where I am. Things don't happen for an accident. I've been diagnosed with gender dysphoria and have been dealing with this my whole life. I was invited to a ladies bible study with mostly transwomen, but have been unable to make it so far due to things that have come up. I hope to make it June 29th, the next time they meet. My wife is still having trouble talking about transition and I still need to talk with my kids. I will most likely say something to them when I travel with them for a week to my mom's this summer. --Lisa

Self doubts are best done prior to surgery as we all know that surgery is irreversible and once you have signed that document that you acknowledge this there is no turning back but one can turn back if there is hesitation, I can not speak about self doubt or hesitation because it was not in me but we all know all full well that like you there are many who have doubts, forge ahead and have regrets. In some ways I see post surgery to some like how a cisgender female can nose dive into a depressive state after child-birth and this can happen to us too. So the doubts and hesitation are caution signs on the road of life to heed and heed well. I so wish the very best for you and make the right decision but as I have said in the past get into a secluded place and talk about your path and were it leads along with the rest of your life in all aspects even down to what if you come away from surgery with no sexual feelings down below, losing male privileges or the mental anguish, losing a marriage or children that may come from transitioning but at the same time the reverse, the wonders of being female in all aspects once you have fully embraced your new gender and be fortunate to keep your marriage and childern.

As my SRS date draws ever closer I can't help but be nervous about the last of the hoops that I have to jump through. My biggest fear is that I'll miss some small detail and end up sitting in a Montreal doctor's office with them telling me, "sorry miss but you forgot to fill out form 6.x14 and that means you'll have to come back in two years after another two assessments." That's not going to happen. I won't let that happen. One of the added bonuses to this whole experience is that I've started to become responsible in taking control of my own life. Started - that's the key word, still a beginner. Yesterday was frustrating but rewarding. I had an appointment set for blood work, I recently read through some emails from the office in Montreal and they had said to get my tests done in June. Good thing I caught that! I brought my papers in yesterday to the lab but without a requisition I was unable to have the tests done. Luckily this was something that I could go to a walk in clinic to have done for me. There was even one down the road from the lab! I stumbled there through my fasting haze (no food for 10 hours) only to find that they weren't accepting any more patients that day. Curses. I gave up and grabbed food, but that wasn't going to stop me from getting the requisition that day, even if I had the tests done tomorrow! That was the first part of the day that was rewarding, actually. I went to a little donut shop nearby that I knew from long ago but frequented when I lived in the neighborhood. I must have gone often because the cashiers recognized me and asked me cheerily where I had been. After telling them I moved they proceeded to remind me that the bus stopped right outside their door and I should come more often. I don't take the bus, but that was adorable. So I grabbed my first coffee of the day at 2:30 in the afternoon (sweet nectar of life!) and headed to the next walk-in I knew of. This one was all the way across town but I figured it was the place to go. That was the walk-in that I first went to in bad female drag and demanded of the doctor who saw me to, "just give me the hormones!" Of course, he had no idea what to do but was so kind that he researched it there on the spot and gave me the number that eventually did lead to my diagnosis and prescription. Of course what I didn't realize was that as of the beginning of this month they are no longer a walk-in clinic except for Saturdays. Frakk! At this point it was about 3 pm and I was running out of time before I needed to meet my friends for dinner - friends who had just arrived in the country from Finland for their annual visit of Canada. Last resort, I went to a walk-in clinic at a mall under heavy renovations that I knew would be very busy. The receptionist told me it would be a 45 minute wait but she could call me when the doctor would see me. Bonus! I went shopping. At first I was just going to look without buying as my bank account has been a little dry as of late and my hormones are almost in need of refill but I remembered as I found a really cute dress that was just my size that I had a prepaid Visa that had been given to me as a gift. After spending some time in the change room debating between the cute dress and another dress that was very pretty but just didn't sit the same way on me but was much cheaper I finally just bit the bullet and bought the cute dress. I'm going to wear it dancing, it is the cutest! Now that I am a lot more used to showing off the miles of leg that I have my wardrobe options have increased exponentially and summer doesn't seem so intimidating anymore. The doctor's hadn't called yet but I went back there anyways. I sat in the waiting room and doodled in my notebook until they called for "Michael Sharkey". Embarrassed I got up hoping that no one was looking at me but deciding that I was proud of being trans I just strutted into the doctor's office. Once there the receptionist asked, "do you still go by Michael?" I found this even more surprising than them calling me that in the first place. I told her, "no, it's been legally changed to Mikah". She replied, "oh, okay - I'll change that in our system, we just want you to be comfortable." I was not expecting that to be so easy! The doctor was also pretty quick to clue in to what was going on. After seeing the list of tests he asked, "is this for SRS?" and has offered to have the tests sent to Montreal for me, apparently he used to work over there and is somewhat familiar with the whole transition process. Our meeting was brief, he had a lot else to do but after the incredibly long journey to get those papers I welcomed the change of pace. As I left I could hear him talking to his receptionist, "please set an appointment with her for 10 days from now". Female pronouns, I don't know if I will ever really get used to not having to correct people with that. I blasted back home and almost got changed into my new dress - I wish I had, but the trip home later in the evening was so cold that I'm a little glad I didn't. Rushed out the door to the restaurant and met my friends just 10 minutes late. It was so nice to see them and get caught up after a year! They have been some of my best friends since long before my transition and have been wonderful allies during the process. Drinks and dinner was a wonderful way to end an interesting day.