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.

​I've had several casualties, nothing extreme but some who've opted to no longer be in contact with me. It becomes obvious when emails fall into a dark hole never to return! As they say that's how we learn who our true friends are. Interestingly no one in my family has fallen out, even some who live in some more conservative areas such as Indiana. Perhaps part of the reason is due to wisdom we acquire as we age, that to be true to oneself is possibly the most important thing one can be - so they respect that even though they don't have much awareness of transgender people. Now they do!

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!"

Hey Lori, Yeah, I understand. The good news is that I have no doubts I’ll wear and enjoy everything! Emma

Dear Monica, Yes, I have Woolite for sure! My breasts are still pretty small. Growing and quite sensitive to bumping but no way do they fill my bra cups. I’m not sure what size they are. I guess the left is an A and the smaller right is an AA. I read that girls’ breasts take several years to develop and I’m trying to be patient. 😻😻😻

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!

Mero, I agree completely with you. I have an acquaintance here locally who is also FTM, whose appearance is not so masculine, and he feels the same as you. I don’t know why some people try to pick themselves up by putting others down. This happens everywhere it seems, even in trans communities which is so hurtful, nasty, and counter to how I feel we all ought to be. As an MTF I wonder if in some ways it’s harder to be FTM especially if you are located in a more traditional male-dominated society. In places like that it’s hard for a man to be manly “enough”. Regardless, you’re a man no matter what you wear or enjoy doing. A rather strong man from what I can tell by your writing. Welcome to TG Guide. I hope to hear more from you.

I agree completely with Monica. I worked with SCORE in San Jose some years back, did some consulting myself on business planning. It's excellent!

I’m so glad for you, Michelle! Yes, maybe you’ve found a niche. More likely, you’ve found that you can do it. Now’s the time to really push yourself to locate and open new opportunities. Ride the success wave! There’s nothing like it.

To me what you described is the classic Ugly American. Trans or not they have little regard for what is appropriate behavior. Like talking on their cell phone (or worse, via Skype on their laptop) in a coffee shop they aren't aware of the social cues or just don't care. Regardless, I agree completely with you, Karen, that part of becoming ourselves is to be a woman. Lots of models to choose from of course! I'm not saying we need to be delicate flowers or anything like that, but to be accepted as a woman especially by cis women means occupying our space similar to the way they do. As Monica suggested, perhaps in private over a glass of wine or coffee, I'd advise your associate to be observant of how women are dressed, carry themselves, and interact with men and women, and model their behavior accordingly. Have fun with it. It's like learning a new language and in most cultures natives just love it when they see us trying to make an effort.

Welcome back! I deeply share and understand your feelings. I felt that way last night when I received a surprise invitation to a "paint party" at my hair salon's for the weekend after next. The owner and all of the ladies are so nice and welcoming!

At last week's meeting with Sandy, my voice coach/therapist, she recalled that early in our work together she'd offered to also coach me on feminine poise, mannerisms. Was I still interested? Absolutely! We thus spent a very fun hour working on my walk during which I recalled the line, "The rain in Spain falls mainly on the plain." As with so much in life the differences between how men and women stand and walk are subtle. For some none of this may matter but for me I want the whole package. Here's some of the high points which are admittedly hard to describe in words but I'll try. Women occupy less space than men. They tend to keep their arms and hands near their bodies, don't stretch their arms out on couches and chairs. If there's one thing to remember that's numero uno.When standing (such waiting for a stoplight to change, keep both feet pointing straight forward, ankles touching. It's a bit of a balancing act at first. Stand upright as if there is a string that enters the top of your skull and travels through your body to the floor. There are several aspects to the walk. It helps to first notice how you walk (if you're a trans woman) "normally." Most men, for example, lead their stride by throwing out their feet/heel to create the momentum to keep moving. The ankles tend to travel further apart and toes are often splayed outward. The overall situation is that men follow their feet. Women, however:Push off their stride with their toes and the torso catches up while the other foot pushes off with its toes. Women's calves then tend to follow their torso. Shorter, calmer strides than men. Toes are pointed straight forward, ankles traveling close to each other as the feet glide past.Walk with upright good posture, as if two strings are tied to your clavicle and gently pulling you forward.That's about it. We put about 15' of masking tape on the floor in two stripes about 5-6" apart. Its a good exercise to walk along those tapes, keeping the toes forward. Move forward and backward so as to work on embedding the new walk into your muscle memory. I'm far from an expert with it but it's fun to be aware of and use. See you! Emma Update 2/4/18: Last night I went over to a friend's house for dinner and wore shoes with 1 1/2" heels. As I walked around my house, to the car, etc., it became so clear why women walk the way I described. Having heels on shoes makes it quite awkward to walk like a man and naturally encourages walking like a woman. Fun!

Good for you on all counts. Especially that you decided to stay home. Even that is hard to do sometimes. It’s important to listen and respect our internal feelings and needs. Your psyche will appreciate it!

Congratulations, Karen. I agree that it's best to appreciate and learn from our more recent past and look forward to the future. There are always so many things that we would have done differently "had we only known" but that is the way life is, we don't know what we don't know. I actually had dinner with the Rose City Girls last May. I am pretty sure I recognize the woman in the lower right of your photo but I can't recall her name. All were very nice and welcoming, and I seriously contemplated relocating to the Portland area, I've had opportunities to join similar groups in Seattle and I haven't. It's not that I look down upon or feel superior to crossdressers at all. As far as I'm concerned they have equal membership in the transgender community to any of us. I'd say it's more about having a common social ground. I love to get dressed up but I also feel comfortable and happy wearing skinny jeans and a top from REI, which I did last night to an annual women's clothing warehouse sale by a local consignment shop. (You wouldn't believe what I scored for $50!) We had wine and snacks before they cut the tape to open the race to the racks and tables. Everyone was delightful to me before, during, and after. That's how I love living my life. I'm sure I don't pass particularly but that doesn't seem to matter. I remember when you were planning to go to Dr. Marci Bowers' office in Burlingame, how you'd planned it all out. It sounded pretty scary to me especially as I was still about a year away from even coming out as trans. I don't know if I'll need or opt for GCS. These days I'm more interested in my early progress on HRT (I see my doc this Wednesday. Yay!) and getting through electrolysis. God, that's so painful for me. I am very well hydrated but each darned hair hurts like hell when she zaps it. Yesterday afternoon I was only able to stand it for an hour and a half (we'd had a 2.5 hour session planned) and I was bummed out about that. But, that opened up time for me to make it to the warehouse sale so it's all good. Take care and best wishes, Karen, Emma

I took the test and here are my results: Your AQ Test Score is: 31. The official criteria for Asperger’s Syndrome is an AQ score greater than 32. According to statistical analysis, 26 – 31 Is a borderline score. 86% of people with a score of 26-31 can be correctly classified as having Asperger’s Syndrome. Wow! That's so interesting. I think it's accurate to say that I'm borderline if anything. Still, maybe this adds some perspective and context about what I've experienced in my life. I may very well bring it up with my therapist next week to get her viewpoint. She's amazingly perceptive. I wonder what therapists feel about this test. For example, the COGIATI test is available for people to "test" whether or not they are trans. IMHO it's hogwash. More like a parlor game than anything substantive.

Very interesting, thank you Natalie. I looked up autism traits to see if I might have any. Some are a bit familiar but on the whole I don't seem to fit. I well understand how much better you feel having your own diagnosis. Perhaps it similar to how I felt as I came to understand that I'm trans, it's not my fault or some sort of predilection. What if it was? I think I'd have a much harder time claiming my space in the world. Sorry, I didn't mean for my comment to be about me. I just wanted to give you some support.

Yes, it is a great feeling. I've recently adopted a mantra that helps me a lot: Whenever we feel fear we're up against a kind of wall... on the other side of the wall is a kind of freedom. I feel these fears fairly often and use the freedom I know I'll feel to motivate me to climb the wall and jump to the other side. I have another trans friend (Joanna Santos, Toronto) who also moves about society in complete stealth. Like you, she taught herself about her voice. I'd love to hear your thoughts on how you achieved that. My voice coach is wonderful and I hope to "graduate" within a couple of months. It's pretty expensive and, I believe, I am steadily improving on playing my "instrument" (as she calls it) and will be able to at least join the junior orchestra. That said I'm lucky to live where I am, in Seattle. I dress nicely and appropriately and even though I doubt I pass anyone's scrutiny everyone is very nice to me. My goals for having a truly feminine voice are to remove a cognitive dissonance I feel when I hear myself speak, and to help people I meet more automatically gender me appropriately. And yet, the wall of a passable voice is quite steep and tall for me.

Yes, VERY interesting and useful. I’m very early in my transition (almost 6 months) and well remember my fears of riding the metro train to the downtown area for my weekly voice lessons. It’s no big deal now; I’m grateful for that. Now that I’ve read your thoughts I feel a contentment that my transition is going well too.

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:

Life changes like yours (new job, moving to a new location, selling your home) and all are so unsettling aren’t they? It has its excitement but it’s also like a bipolar roller coaster of emotions. I hope Nikki is giving you lots of warm hugs. You need them now more than ever. With virtual hugs, Emma

Good for you, to show her compassion and to help her with that bully. You’re quite right, we don’t need to be partners just to be friendly and human with each other. Nothing may come of it but then again, everything might come of it. We never know about kindness. Regardless it’s wndeful to share and makes everyone around you feel better.

Yes, congratulations! I stopped wearing breast forms too for a couple of reasons. The first is that although at size C they are consistent with my body size they are likely much larger than what I'll grow naturally. If I grow to B's I'll be delighted. The other more pressing reason is that my breasts are very sensitive and sore at times; having those heavy breast forms on top of them was quite uncomfortable. So now I'm wearing padded B bras with a cloth-covered insert so they hold their shape. All in all much more comfortable. I have my next appt with my doctor in three weeks and based on my recent estradiol level blood test it's a safe bet she'll be increasing my estradiol dose. Yay! We'll then see if that gives them a kick-start into a higher gear!

Thanks to Monica, Michelle, Dawn, and everyone, As I ran an errand to Lowe’s today I thought about how much better I feel today than some days ago and I can’t explain what’s different. In some ways with experience I feel less anxious about presenting as myself and that helps. Maybe it’s also that I’m making some new connections here locally. Perhaps also I am making slow progress on my house, yesterday re-hanging a bathroom door after refinishing, it looks awesome!! Or maybe it’s partly due to my therapist’s suggestion that I keep a daily “Awe List” where I’m to record things that I stand in awe of each day. I’ve been doing that since last Wednesday. It’s fun to play that game of wanting to add things to the list. I don’t know why but maybe it doesn’t matter: I’m feeling a lot better!

i like the way you think, you have remarkable clarity. I had a lot of major changes last year too. I feel okay now but sometimes I wonder how it will be. The last couple of weeks were pretty rough. “What will be will be, the future’s not ours to see.”

I'd like to add that you're lucky that you and your sales coordinator (manager?) have such a good relationship and that you value his help. Take advantage of that! Go out on joint sales calls as much he wants and you can. You'll learn a lot. Another idea: start keeping some sort of journal where you can jot down notes from your calls every day. I am sure you do this but I'm talking about another notebook where you gradually build up your own system to visualize each sales call, especially those that aren't successful, where success means that you think you have a chance at an eventual sale. The reason is I say this is that long ago and in a faraway galaxy I was the first sales engineer hired to sell a new system for manufacturing printed circuit boards. Our system would optically scan the boards and (when it worked, it was a prototype when I started!) quickly identity flaws that saved the manufacturer lots of money. I was struggling big time. I was going door to door down through the list of companies who manufactured these boards and often got sort shrift from the GMs and owners. But then a man in our company who led our operations group wanted to take on a sales role to broaden his experience and eventually become a GM or executive himself. He did exactly what I'm suggesting to you now and quickly saw the commonalities about being rejected. Together (but mostly him) we developed a strategy that we had a blast with. We would call the prospect and say that all we needed was 60 seconds of his time (in a face to face meeting) to demonstrate on the back of an envelope how we could save him tens of thousands of dollars every year. We promised to set up a timer and if, at the end of the minute, he didn't want to continue, we'd shake hands and depart. Well, this really helped in two main ways: 1) We got the meeting, but more importantly 2) We had to boil down our benefits sufficiently into language he'd quickly grasp enough that he would want to learn more. I ended up selling way more machines than anyone else in our group! And I had fun, too. We turned it into a game to see if our assumptions on the meetings worked and when they didn't we refined our messaging and tactics.