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| My wife Liz on left and daughter on right. |
If you read my posts at all, you know how I feel about that.
Trans people have always been around and always will be. Attempts to erase us
will be futile. On a lesser but just as important level, we try to erase
ourselves by purging our lives too. I know the guilt of being a cross dresser
or transgender woman became too much for me to handle and I threw out most of
my treasured feminine wardrobe and makeup. Out of sight, out of mind I thought.
In the long term and the short term, none of my purges
worked because I refused to accept my true self. I had my life all backwards
and I was not a man who cross dressed as a woman, but a woman who cross dressed
as a man. Until I figured it out, I kept trying to hide the obvious. Of course,
it did not help as I started with two gender strikes against me. I went through
birth as a male and then had to go through male puberty and suffer from what I
called testosterone poisoning. My body kept the bullies away and allowed me to
play sports but caused me torment when I was in front of the mirror trying to
be a pretty girl.
As life went on, I thought for the most part I had learned
to live with my gender dysphoria the best I could. To this day, though, I
wished I could be a “normal” male. How much better could my life be if I could
socialize with the other males around me without feeling as if I was an
outsider. I grew tired of being an actor inside my own skin. The only thing I
could do was mentally try to get rid of my feminine self. Taking me full circle
back to why I was keeping all those clothes, wigs and makeup anyway. It took me
by throwing them away to understand exactly what the problem was. It was not a
problem unless I it made one, which I was by purging again.
Deep down I knew I was wrong and very shortly I would be
re-stocking my fashion and make up to try my best to present feminine again to
myself and the world. However, I was very stubborn and my male self-hung on way
too long refusing to give up on his hard-earned male privileges. Life could
have been much easier by staying where I was in the gender world, but it was
just wrong, and I couldn’t. The more I lived as a transgender woman, the more
natural I felt, and I never wanted to go back into the male world I had made
the best out of.
Increasingly, the male purge was looking to be the one I was
going to attempt to make. I was sick of living a gender lie, and I wanted to
reverse my idea of living. I wanted to feel “normal” again but this time around
a group of cisgender women. Flipping the gender script on my life was the most
difficult thing I had ever attempted to do, but somehow, I made it through the
female gatekeepers and did it.
In my new transfeminine life, I was rarely out of sight and
out of mind. I had a lot of help to do it who I will never forget. I had spent
my whole life chasing a dream and had finally achieved it. As I symbolically and
literally gave my male clothes to charity, I stopped to remember the entirety of
what I was doing. I was giving up the male side who had dominated me for so
long. To be sure, he had served me well, but it was time to go, and this final
purge was a triumphant one for my transgender woman who had waited so long to
live. After all, she had her life taken away several times when she was purged nearly
out of existence.
She survived and so did I and everything in her power to
make things better. When I worried how I would be perceived in a new world. She
had my back when it mattered, and it did. Even in the days when she had to give
me quite a bit of tough love. She had to watch me grow through my ill-advised teen
cross-dressing years into a presentation I could be proud of or at least
satisfied with.
Out of sight, out of mind never worked for me.
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