There was Never a Maybe

 

Image from Marija Zaric 
on UnSplash. 

In my life, there were never any maybe moments about having gender issues, only a resounding yes, because I had them.

Time fades the memory, but I think the first inkling of the issues I had was when I began to experience very vivid dreams that I was indeed a pretty girl. That is when I went the only route, I knew how to go and secretly began to raid my mom’s clothing drawers and closets for her clothes I could still squeeze in to at the time. Before I knew it, I had somehow acquired my own “collection” of feminine clothes and makeup I used to practice my new artform. While the boys around me were practicing putting together model cars, I was busy practicing being a girl. At the time, all the practice flustered me, but would come back to help me later in life when I would not have to work so hard on the basics of presenting as a ciswoman.

The more I accomplished in my cross-dressing pursuits, the more I wanted to do because I felt so natural. Which was a huge clue to me that I was on the right gender path, and this part of my life had always been a deep part of me. If I had followed the clues and not ignored them, I would have been much better off in the long run. By putting my deep instincts off, I ended building up a successful but deeply destructive male life. Every time I built something up as a man, I needed to somehow destroy it because I did not want it to interfere with my possible upcoming male to female femininization project. I guess I could say the possibilities intrigued me as much as they terrified me. How would I ever be able to live as a transgender woman dominated most of my everyday life as I envied the lives of the ciswomen around me.

At the time, all of this was happening, all I was trying to do was experiment if my gender dream could ever come true and I could give up all my male privileges I had built up to try it. If I could do it, I could live it became my goal. Which was easier said than done because I was still living most of my life as a transfeminine person only in front of the mirror and not the world where I belonged. At times, making my way from the mirror was a brutal experience for me because the world treated me in ways that I really deserved when I did not dress myself in the proper way to hide the best I could my testosterone poisoned body and attracted undue attention. Not dressing to blend in with the other ciswomen around me was hurting me badly until I finally learned my lesson.

Probably what I suffered from the most was not having the role models I needed to help me in my male to female transition. It was very lonely in the pre-internet days with no social media tutorials to help new struggling trans women or cross dressers along. It was just me and the public to provide feedback on my progress because I discovered the mirror was quite OK with lying to me about how I looked. It would tell me I was attractive, then I would get immediately laughed back home by a group of teen girls was a prime example of what I was going through. I remember vividly the days when I began to seek out the girl’s attention to measure how well I was doing in the world, rather than running from it. I figured if I could succeed in passing my toughest tests anything was possible.

As I began to pass more and more feminine tests, my confidence began to grow, and I started to face my deepest dreams and fears that I could conceivably leave my old male path behind and carve out a life as a transgender woman. On my own in the world. All of this had its good and bad points. The good was that I was finally realizing after all this time I could live my dream and the bad was, what would I do about the remainder of my male life. At that time, I still had a very good marriage to deal with, as well as a family and successful job to consider. It was as if I was painting myself simultaneously into two gender corners which would be hard to get out of. I found wanting the best of both binary gender worlds was impossible to do and coming up soon I would have to decide which way I was going to have to go.

The decision I made turned out to be the easiest one and one I should have made long ago. I certainly had the gender issues I worried about endlessly and would have them as long as I lived. I had always thought that tomorrow would be the day I could figure it all out, but all the tomorrows started to become years and decades and I still hadn’t done anything about it. Gender procrastination at its finest, or its worst. Bottom line was the procrastination I was doing ended up hurting me in ways that I never imagined such as with my mental health which really paid the price of living the pressure of life in two genders. I needed to finish painting the gender corners I had put myself into and do it fast.

On one of the nights, I went out to try to be by myself, I ended up really socializing as a trans woman and enjoying myself. Right then, I decided I had made my final decision to pursue HRT and finally put what was left of my old male self to a permanent rest. It occurred to me then that the decision had always been made for me from those earliest days in the mirror I went through.

All the maybes were in my past. I could succeed as a trans woman, and I had a bright future ahead.