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| Image from Brooke Cagel on UnSplash. |
When I was very young, when I listened closely, I could hear the faint sound of my true gender calling me.
Please keep in mind that very early on I could not quite
understand what the voice was trying to tell me. I just knew something was not
right. As I grew older and started experimenting with Mom’s clothes (even to
the point of shaving my legs), did I have a basic understanding of what the voice
was trying to tell me. From the first view of myself in our full-length hallway
mirror, I had an idea that I had arrived in the right place as I stared at the
pretty girl that I had a hand in creating.
It was then that the real gender work began. The first
problem I had was trying to find the private time I had to cross-dress. And
once I did, when would I have the time to do it again as the gender pressure built
on me every time. What I did not understand and wouldn’t for many years was
that I was much more than someone who just wanted to wear pretty feminine
clothing. My true gender was calling and would never be satisfied until it was
properly expressed. Even though I did not fully understand the path I was on
and would have to accept it over the years to come. Especially all the blind
curves and stop signs I ran into. I was not prepared for all the trials and
tribulations I would have to go through to even try to pursue my gender dreams
which always had to do with living a transfeminine life. At that time, the
phrase had not yet been invented or used, so all I knew was I wanted to be a
woman with all the perceived benefits which came with it.
Jumping ahead, the benefits of living as a full-time trans
woman were there but just vastly different that I thought they would be. I
still had the joy of selecting and wearing pretty clothes which changed with the
seasons. It turned out, some of the enjoyment was taken away when I needed to
pick out an outfit every day when I gave away all my male clothes and the
reality of my existence set in. I guess you could say the novelty of dressing
like a woman became a necessity when my gender called.
Speaking of my gender calling, I needed to learn how to accept
it when it was trying to get through in my busy life as a man. I knew who was
calling all of the time, I was just afraid of facing the reality of me
answering it. I ran from it until I could run no more and I had myself painted
into a feminine corner of reality I could not get out of.
What I am referring to is all the nights I went out as a
trans woman to be alone and ended up socializing and carving out a new life faster
than I ever thought possible. Suddenly, my gender phone was ringing off the
hook and demanding more and more attention. The conversations became deeper and
deeper as discussions about spouses, family and jobs took center stage. At a
crucial point, I needed to lose all my fears of debating the pros and cons of
gender change and consider the future which increasingly looked feminine to me.
I respected the world of ciswomen from all angles, and I wanted to explore my
desire to fit in more and more.
Finally, my gender voice became mildly abusive and challenged
me to think deeply about the life situation I was in. What was I doing by
constantly fighting a situation where I felt natural and good at. For once, I
put my stubborn male self behind me and listened. Sure, there were bound to be
bigots and haters still on my path, but I would have to ignore them and stand
up for myself. The availability of gender affirming hormones or HRT helped me a
lot because the hormones softened my skin and harsh male facial angles and made
it easier to present a feminine face to the public. Which in turn, gave me more
confidence. For the first time in my life, my external and internal features
came close to matching.
At least now, my gender voice could quit screaming and calling
me stupid for the way I was trying to run my life. Then perhaps, I could answer
my gender phone and think about more pressing issues such as how I was going to
run my life as a successful, happy transgender woman since happiness was something
which eluded me for most of my life.
During a classic “if I had known then what I know now”
moment, if I had known way back in my past how deep my gender issues ran, I was
so much more than someone who enjoyed wearing feminine clothes. I wanted to be
a woman as my ultimate goal in life. It would have been nice too, to have other
guidance to help me along in my gender dysphoria struggles. In those days, not
only were there not any qualified therapists to help, but there also wasn’t
even internet to refer to for information so our closets were very lonely and
dark.
Certainly, the one thing missing in my closet was a phone so
I could talk when gender called. Maybe it would have saved me a great amount of
stress and turmoil. I say maybe because of who knows, I would have had the maturity
and courage to lick up the phone and have a honest and far-reaching discussion
with myself about who I really was.
Maybe, when your gender calls, there will be a real person
such as a supporting spouse to talk to about your life. So many transgender
women and transgender men don’t have that luxury. One way or another, pick up
the phone and talk. It could be the best therapy for you.
