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| Image from Hanna Lazar on UnSplash. |
There is nothing romantic when you are being torn between two lovers if you are a transgender woman or a transgender man.
For me at least, I would never have wished for the ripping
and tearing I suffered from the gender dysphoria I suffered from on my worst
enemy. Waking up each morning wondering which gender I would be today was certainly
no walk in the park. if I did take a walk in the park, it would be a mental one,
and I would be chased by my demons.
As I write about extensively, I was stuck in my dark lonely
gender closet as I felt as if I was the only one in the world who felt the same
way I did. It was back before the internet and social media days and any information
on gender issues was difficult to come by or out and out false. For the longest
time, I just did not know where I fit in the world as a man who wanted to be a
woman.
The tearing became even worse when one of my identities
started to surge ahead of the other. It happened when my daughter was born and
I had to get much more serious about how I was going to build a career as a
man. Only to be ripped back when I viewed myself as a trans woman in front of
the mirror. I only had the annual Halloween parties to get out of my closet and
see what the world would be all about if I had the chance to live my dream of
going full-time.
The thing about dreams is that they are a long way from
reality. Reality meant I needed to go a very long way to learn about what I was
trying to achieve. Back in those days, the term transgender woman was brand new
and barely used, so I was surprised when I discovered it and it fit me so well.
Keep in mind that I could only refer to myself as a transvestite because I knew
I was not ready to use the transsexual label then or ever. If I had the will
power to go through the major gender realignment surgeries of the time, I certainly
did not have the insurance coverage or the financial resources to do it myself.
Again, I was just stuck between two genders, but at the least I had a label now
for who I was.
The ripping and tearing managed to become even worse when I
began to improve my feminine presentation to the point where I could blend in
with the world of ciswomen around me. Every time it happened, my male self
would become upset because he was losing his hold on my life. As it was
becoming increasingly evident that someday, I would have to choose between my
two very serious gender lovers.
At the same time, I was trying everything to maintain my already
fragile mental health by going to therapists. By doing so, I was able to learn
what being bi-polar depressed meant and why I was suffering from it. All along,
I was blaming my severe depression on my gender issues when I had other often
more pressing issues. At the same time, I was ignoring facts from my therapist
that she could do nothing about me wanting to be a woman. It turned out to be my
truth that I refused to follow. Instead, I tried to move on. Going the wrong
way on a one-way gender street. Dodging the sometimes-toxic public became too
much of me until I began to give up totally on my male side and concentrate on
living my dream of being a transfeminine person.
I never labored under the idea that my life in the world as
a trans woman would be easy but I never bargained for the complexity of the new
life I was facing. It seemed that every time I was able to overcome one obstacle
on my path, something new would appear to take its place. Like never before, I
had to really listen to what people were telling me, so I would miss nothing in
the conversation. I found that trying to live in a world of ciswomen meant more
than just looking the part. I needed to be the part too. Always before as a
man, it was easy for me as a man to zone out in conversations and then catch up
when I wanted to, but impossible when I began communicating one on one with
other women.
Of course, my male side always hated losing, and every time
my female side showed any victories, he hated it and fought back harder. As he
was trying everything, he knew how to maintain what was left of his life. To
placate him, I would try to do as many male things I could such as drinking
with the few true male friends he had left. The problem was even he was
beginning to feel alienated from his old friends as they started to pass away
from cancer. At the same time, my feminine self was very successful in carving
out a new life she could sustain as well as feeling so natural doing it. It was
becoming obvious as the ripping and tearing (and even a large part of my depression)
began to go away that I had chosen the right path to take on my gender journey.
At the same time, I began to consider attempting to get
approved for gender affirming hormones or HRT. First through an independent
doctor and then through the Veterans Administration healthcare system which had
just approved it. It was as if the long-closed doors which were preventing me
from living my transgender dream were suddenly swinging wide open. From then
on, the only ripping going on was over what male baggage I could not take with
me into my new life. My male clothes were given to charity as I built up my
wardrobe for a new everyday experience as a transgender woman. It was a terrific
weight off my shoulders.
My hope for you I that you can overcome your inner turmoil
faster than I did by facing your truth. Thanks for reading and commenting!



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