A Spectator in my Own Life

 

Image from Ryan 
Mangino on UnSplash.

There were many times during my life as a transgender woman, I felt as if I was a spectator looking in on the action.

The whole process was very strange to say the least as I was thinking, just who was that person. Plus, having the chance to think what I was doing was a totally different sensation. The entire problem stemmed I think, from the earlier years of my life when I was positive, I was two different people all together. One male and one female. It was not until much later on when I began to realize I was always feminine and fought all things male when I could.

Slowly but surely, I began to realize the truth and began to notice my cross-dressing nights out involved much more than just attempting to look the best I could. My spectator began slowly to change away from watching a male life unfold to watching a female one do the same. Helping me were the girls-night-out invitations I received. Following a bout of impostor's syndrome, I suffered through, I settled down and enjoyed myself. When I came to the conclusion I had just as much right there as the next woman. We had all came to our right of womanhood through different paths and mine was just different.

Finally, I grew tired of just being a spectator in my feminine life and wanted more. More meant being a spectator in my male life. Since I was still working and living part-time as a man, it meant I really needed to concentrate on my speech and movements when I was still a guy. In fact, there were a couple of embarrassing times when I was called Ma'am at work when I was in male mode. 

Early on, being a spectator in my own life was certainly a curiosity. Especially, when I thought I was just a cross dresser and putting on a dress was just a hobby. The closer I moved to true transgender womanhood, the more I learned that was not true. As I always say, the key moment in my life came when I realized I was not a man cross dressing as a woman, I was a woman cross dressing as a man. The tragic part was I went through male puberty and was testosterone poisoned as I grew up. I did not appreciate when my soft body turned to hardened angles as well as the other male changes but there was nothing I could do.

When I found my gender destination, I stopped being a spectator and began to be a more involved participant. For me, flipping my gender became an intensely frightening but natural part of my life. Living my dream was so dominant in my thought pattern, I had no problem with girls-nights-out and even could not wait for them. My newfound confidence as a woman completely pushed any idea of me being a spectator aside and opened the door for me to be a more well-rounded participant. Of course, confidence always grows more confidence, and I grew to the point where I had nothing else to prove to the other women I was around.

As I look back, being a spectator in my own life as sometimes a necessary but very different part of my existence. The entire process sometimes helped me to understand where I was going towards my dream of transgender womanhood.