It Was Great, But Now I'm More Confused Than Ever!

^ I'm a doctor (no, not really) and this is exactly what I would prescribe for you. If this "trans thing" was just a phase after all, and attending this conference has given you perspective enough to realize it, then going back to a cis life shouldn't be horribly difficult. Maybe, mentally, go at it in stages. First try to go one week without any dressing up or female socializing. If this is no problem, proceed to two weeks, then three if need be, etc.. I couldn't tell you going how long without "being trans" would indicate that it was just a phase. But my money's on your needing to present/identify as female again well before a month is out.

FWIW, perhaps less than a month ago, I woke one morning at the start of the workweek and suddenly felt to myself, "What's all this trans and wanting to be female and dressing in women's clothes stuff? Naw!" and felt more purely male than I had in a long time. Practically prepared to pitch all my girly stuff. Yet, before the week was out, I found myself in my corset and heels and such again and desiring to socialize as a woman. I don't think putting putting on our female clothing is the equivalent of donning Superman's "S"--we "power up" into female mode and spree-shop tall department stores in a single bound. Sometimes, Superman spends weeks at a time as Clark Kent (don't believe what the media tells you about this) and he genuinely seems to get along fine in this role. Yet, underneath the nerdy earthling clothes, he's still Superman, and can't patronize a phone booth without confronting his destiny.

(Did I just compare Mia to Superman? Yup. And I think wanting to be a woman is her Kryptonite. Sure I've killed this analogy by now.)

/doctors advice

 

First Mia then Audrey...

That damn urge does NOT go away. The desire to be seen socially as female sticks with me constantly and you two are in the same boat with me.

 

*puts on mustache and spectacles*

*German accent* Zen, my dearz you should consida ze possibility zat you should live your lives as vomen!

But seriously, we only live the lives we're given once. Why not live it as you want to?

 

May I snuggle you herr professor?

 

*mustache twitches in approval*

 

No cigars though. Cigars are icky.

 

You're grounded! To the convent with thee!!

---------- Post added 11th May 2014 at 06:08 PM ----------

Also, this thread will not be derailed. Let's stay focused on Mia.

 

You do love her don't you?

 

Kasey!

 

Let's focus, please.

Does anyone have any experience with separating out the fear from actual feelings? I was so young when I socially transitioned and I went through a lot of emotional trauma for it but I felt determined to be the man I knew that I was so, I just survived through it with my writing and drawing. I feel like she needs to hear from someone who was faced with this sort of challenge as an adult...

 

Technically you're the eldest of anyone who has actually transitioned "completely" of almost anyone here aside from Monika.

We are all just as new to this as she is, and I'm trying to reinforce the fact I'm going through the same damn thing as Audrey has also said too.

 

This was what I was afraid of...

I mean, it won't be the same but I can share all of my coming to terms stuff if Mia thinks it'll help... But I don't want this thread to get taken over by my story so, I can post it elsewhere, maybe?

 

I didn't socially transitioned yet and I'll do that soon (if 18 years could be considered an age of an adult).

 

Look, post it here.

One of my flaws is I make shit all about me. And I need to stop that. But I do it because I try to empathize with others. Which as you may have seen and are probably sick of me saying it, the 3 harem members are all in the same boat it seems, all have that questioning experience of getting it out of our system. It can't be, it's deep rooted.

You and Robin have both hit the nail on the head already and that's in my mind and Mia's right now, I guarantee it.

And yes, this is a serious thread for all of us, not just Mia, my old wounds are opened up too from this. You saw me through it and I still don't have a great conclusion. You did help me end up in the "I wanted to be born a woman" statement. And that did lend some clarity, although at the time I didn't really care because of the soul scathing truth you made me address.

But no, I digress, you please explain your story because it is germane to the subject. She asked for opinions and thoughts and your story is perhaps the best guidepost for anyone to follow even though our paths are all different we can learn from your journey.

Really, post it.

 

I agree with Kasey

 

*armchair sifter*

I'm honestly good at this. I mean removing myself from an equation and assessing it objectively in order to arrive at a solution (or at least plan). That is, unless my emotions get the better of me, which they sometimes do, ugh.

Thought I sketched at at least a few of the fallacies that often ensue in trying to parse these situations. (Probably the Superman analogy was too whimsical, ugh, sweetiekins wife fail.)

 

Some of this won't be news, some might be but it's the best I have.

My first Christmas picture of me at 9 months is playing with tools and wearing dinosaur pajamas. Around the same age, I killed a mouse because all of the women in my family jumped on the furniture shrieking, leaving me on the floor. They were scared; I saw the mouse as the source of fear so I killed it and flushed it down a toilet (freaking my mother out immensely - and no, I have never harmed an animal again; I rescue them and snuggle them obsessively ). When I was less than 2, I had my older sister chop off all of my hair. I remember thinking at age 3 that I would never be the kind of man my biological father was. The next year, in pre-K and with my dad (not biological but definitely my dad, whom I love more than anyone) as a role model, I became totally obsessed with tools and building things. At school, I had one girl whom I protected and I saw boys as my rivals and unworthy ones at that. Clothes didn't really mean anything but I was very confused about what my genitals were for as I couldn't understand what function they would serve for me if they were marking me as a "girl." I don't know how much I questioned this at the time.
I first really noticed girls at the age of 6. I was finishing kindergarten and remember sitting with a group of boys gawking over our teacher whose bra we could see through her shirt. I don't remember but I think that I must've told a girl that I was really a boy because somehow we ended up in a shower together and she was not happy that I didn't have a penis for her to see, called me a freak and never spoke to me again. So, I decided that I was supposed to like boys. I picked the girliest boy at school and told him that we were "a couple." He agreed because I was bigger than him and could win sports for him. We forgot about it within a week.
The next year (2nd grade), I had to go to a slumber party and I felt sinful. By this point, I have made both my reconciliation and first communion and knew that boys and girls shouldn't sleep together. I hid in my sleeping bag praying. I felt especially bad because I had a crush on the girl whose party it was but she was rich so, I knew my "place" and kept away.
3rd grade started and I was the tallest in the school (5'1"). I was very athletic, ran around with only pants on and loved getting dirty/ hated baths, etc. Only a singing mermaid doll got me into the tub (have a thing for mermaid for my whole life, no clue why). I was a goalkeeper on a football team, etc. It was awesome. Except. I got picked on mercilessly for not liking boys and for being like a boy. And then, puberty hit. I got breasts and darkness fell upon the land... :rolle: So, I decided to become a woman. I became anorexic because it was the only thing I felt in control of sin e I couldn't control my own destiny. I kept my boy clothes for at home and inherited a bunch of dress suits and heels from my aunt. I became very severe, especially with men. Men were useless, weak, pathetic tools for me to control and discard - and I could. By the age of 11, I looked 16 or 17. I tried out for modelling, started working out, dieted, took up yoga, studied existentialism and music, and treated people like objects. I was offered a modelling contract (for underwear because I had "the butt of a twelve year old boy" duh, I was an almost twelve year old boy... :roflmao and turned it down because I was afraid that I would end up becoming immoral in that setting. I had come out to my family as gay 6 months before the contract. Through all of this, I had my guy stuff at home and lived as this dominatrix-ey persona the rest of the time and felt OK. I thought that I made a good woman. I was proud of myself. And I was dying on the inside. I never tried to be "straight" but thought I could make myself bi, marry a man and keep a mistress on the side. Realizing that I could never be attracted to a man was... tough. I felt physically ill. I thought that I was failing as a woman. But it didn't take long for me to realize that I could give a woman just as much as a man could. I told my family at age 11. My mother threatened to have me institutionalized, subjected to hormones and electro-shock therapy. She threatened to abandon me. My dad just told me that I couldn't have girls in my room. My aunt said I was "wasting" my looks. My sister said she was OK with it and then called me a dyke. I was shocked. I felt completely isolated and hated. I withdrew into my music and into myself. I felt broken. And I didn't have the energy to fight myself anymore.
The girls clothes started disappearing from my wardrobe and I stopped speaking unless spoken to. I started running all of the time and contemplated running away. My stories became my refuge and I used them to explore my own identity and feelings toward everything from sex to friendship to war. I didn't know the term transgender; I just thought that I was a guy in a girls body and that was something I would always suffer because of no matter what else I did in life.
Probably none of you have seen my post in the "what people don't know about you" thread but since I was 12, I have kept a single journal. In this journal, I have written hundreds of letters to the love of my life, someone who may not even exist in this time or place and yet the idea of her has haunted me since I was a toddler. Maybe it's a childhood fantasy or maybe intuition or maybe just silliness but I believe that it kept me sane. I would never have killed myself because of my religion but without this dream of having someone to love me and someone to whom I belonged and whom I had to protect, I think I would have given up on everything.
When my grandmother passed away when I was sixteen, I had to wear a dress to her funeral and I stood by as my younger male cousin carried her casket. I felt that I was the most pathetic person that I couldn't even give the woman who had stood by me and raised me what was proper. My family was fractured and I had to be strong and silent. I wasn't important enough to speak up.
I started college with a severe concussion (took 16 hours, accelerated Japanese and got straight A's btw). My mother told me that no one would want to be friends with me. She tild me that she hoped I'd be beaten and raped because then I would learn that I was a girl. I secretly became president of the LGBTQ club. I helped others figure out their identity and listened to medical concerns. I was out to them as trans immediately. I knew the term at 18. I began planning for when to start hormones and have top surgery, change my name and gender marker. I was considering bottom surgery until 3 years ago. I fell in love at 19 with the most beautiful girl you could imagine. Sometimes, even now, I get the vibe from her that if I were "properly male" (i.e., had a functioning penis) that we would be together. If she told me so, I would do it without hesitation even though I don't want it for myself. Loving her has made me see my true self. It's brought out the best of me. Even when I didn't hear from her for 5 years, I never gave up on our friendship. I found her again. And suddenly, I realized: if I want to live my life as I truly am, I can't keep hiding. I had a concussion 2 months ago, fell into the depths of dysphoria and then, I watched a little girl named Jazz on youtube. She broke my heart. Her confidence was something I couldn't fathom. I was looking up to her and the guilt was too much. I should be fighting for her, not the other way around. I won't live my life in the shadows just so that I don't bother anyone. I want to be happy and I want to be complete so that I can dedicate myself to those who I love and those who need me. I couldn't see in that child anything but a brave little girl and so, why would I judge myself differently? If I blame myself, do I not cast blame upon her? I won't do that. Ever.
I accept myself and I fight for myself because of that little girl. Because of you. For you. I will heal myself because if I don't, I can't give anything of value to others. I can't make another person smile if I'm broken. And I want to see you smile, Mia (I like your smile even if you don't). I want to see Robin and Kasey and Audrey smile, too. I don't want any one of you to feel ashamed or guilty or broken or less than you are. You're beautiful, each in your own way, and you deserve to be yourselves, whatever that may be. And the world deserves you, too; it deserves to see the complete you.
I accepted myself because I accepted you.

 

(*hug*) for you all - wish I could do more.