For most of my life I've lived in a confused sense of my identity. Who am I? What do I want? What makes me happy?
I'm certainly not alone in my narcissistic attitude and I know many people say you should just suck it up and learn to live with the reality of your existence. I've thought that Pink Floyd's song 'Time' has a lyric that states western society's attitude the best - 'Hanging on in quiet desperation is the English way'.
I've always felt darkness sitting on my shoulder, a quiet desperation. Sometimes it sits silent as I pretend to go along with the role I use to blend into society. Other times the feeling is so powerful that nothing else seems to matter as I stare into the abyss.
The funny thing is I don't understand it. It's pretty safe to say I'm depressed but is it something more? Am I bipolar? Is it another type of mental issue? Is it simply because I don't like myself?
I once read a saying that 90% of the people you know don't care about your problems and the other 10% are glad you have them. The saying is a bit pessimistic but I think it is true that most people see themselves as the stars of their own movie. The rest of us are just bit players.
I've never really liked myself but I've never done much to let others accept me. Since I was a teenager I've been a periodic smoker yet I couldn't allow myself to adopt that moniker. It put me in a category I didn't want to accept. For years I smoked in private, hiding it from the world. I'm sure few people cared but I didn't want people to think less of me. It's stupid and I know it's stupid. Imagine how hard it is for someone like that to admit they might be transgendered.
Since I was a kid I knew I had feminine tendencies though I don't know exactly when I realized it. I was a smart enough to know I was different. I was pretty sure it had something to do with a the fact my dad left when I was in 2nd grade. In time I wondered if my mother's overcompensation was at fault. The more I've read, I've learned that doctors don't understand it.
Nature or nurture? What is the source of our behavior? Is it learned or is it innate?
Most studies today find a very strong correlation between genetics and gender issues and that environment has little to do with this behavior. In my teenaged year I knew I liked women and had no attraction to men but I also knew something was blocking me from being like the other guys. Perhaps I was just weird. Like I said earlier, I wass the star in my own movie and no one had told me any different.
I learned to hide myself and never volunteer for anything lest my dark secret be found.
One thing that has never made sense to me is why these feelings even exist. I'm a big believer that anything that happens in today's world happened to our predecessors 1,000, 10,000 or 100,000 years ago. Gender issues really makes no sense how they developed over time. Did ancient gender dysphoric men take secondary roles in the tribe? Wouldn't that mean they were less likely to be the alpha male and less likely to mate?
That only leaves one option in my mind - either the genetics for dysphoria is passed from the mother's genes or something happens in the mother's womb during gestation. Otherwise it seems likely dysphoria (and homosexuality) would have disappeared from the genetic record.
In time I know I blamed my mom for my problem.
During my teenaged years if someone told me they were a woman trapped inside a man's body I would have laughed at them. Like most teenagers I didn't take anything too seriously but I did that mostly to hide my fears. I was scared of the changes in my body. I wanted to let my hair grow but my parents wouldn't allow it. I ran like a girl. I preferred pinks and soft colors.
Another issue is I struggled to know how to act around girls. It was fine with other guys as I could copy them but behind closed doors with girls it felt more like a sleepover than anything else. Every girl I dated said the same thing - 'you act more like one of my girlfriends than a boyfriend'. I kept searching to find a girl that might understand me. My dating life followed a pattern - meet a girl that liked me because I was good looking, talk for a while, decide to go out, date, have sex a few times, grow bored, break up. They wanted something from me I didn't have and couldn't understand. After 5 or 6 real attempts with the same pattern I pretty much gave up. When I gained weight after college I didn't even try anymore. Girls weren't knocking on the door to go out so I became a recluse and continued to put on weight.
I didn't understand my feelings. I tried to ignore them as I knew I couldn't tell a soul. There wasn't anyone out there like me. I was alone. I was a damaged.
Many times in my life I've considered therapy. I know it would help but just going to therapy gives a social stigma and I didn't want to deal with it. The last thing I needed was someone in the HR department to let one of my bosses know which would cause them to get nervous and fire me.
The story I wrote a few days ago was a thinly veiled story of my life. I actually took the trip through the park wearing breast forms and it was an amazing experience. I got surprised by two hikers who certainly noticed them and practically ran from a guy who looked like a redneck homophobe. Most of everything that took place happened in my mind as I barely said a word to anyone over the six hours I spent on the trail.
My favorite part was as it started to get dark. I knew no one would be around and I wore my sports bra without breast forms. The sun had gone down over the mountains and it felt cold in the shade but I felt a warmth I couldn't explain.
Before this week, I'd never worn women's clothing in public. Honestly I usually wear baggy drab colored clothing so I don't stand out. I rarely look in the mirror because I can't stand the sight of myself and it has only gotten worse as I've gotten older. I've had body issues long before I gained weight. I was thin before I got out of college and downright skeleton 130 lbs during my sophomore year of high school. I've always hated to swim because I would never be caught without my shirt. The thought of baring my shoulders was a foreign concept. Imagine my surprise at the smile that wouldn't leave as I trekked alone for two miles wearing only a bra.
I did go out to dinner with my dad that night but it wasn't anything like the story. The only part that was true was a guy made a comment that I couldn't be his son because I was so much bigger. My dad is an inch shorter with a slighter frame but with a gut that falls over his belt. If I had to guess I'd say he weighs about 180 lbs. I'm about 5'10" with a disappearing gut but I'm over 200 lbs. with much broader shoulders. The fat on my body is more equally distributed on a bigger frame and I have more muscle which is what gives me the larger appearance.
That little comment took away all the positive I felt from the day.
It reinforced the thought that I'm too big to transition. I doubt I will ever pass and frankly I'd need to pass as my past history tells me I don't have the inner strength to deal with the haters. It got me to think about all sorts of crazy thoughts. What if I bought hormones and did it in secret to see if I looked ok? So many people I've read say they change things more than you can imagine. Perhaps I don't have enough imagination.
Perhaps I can take enough so it would allow me to live a double life of crossdressing. I could pass when I wanted but deep down I know that wouldn't be enough.
I went hiking a few more times after I wrote the story the last week. One day it was a bit cold and I wore a slight jacket with my bra and breastforms underneath. I developed a trick which was to use the chest strap on my backpack to
bind my 'boobs' to hide them if anyone saw me but I had to be careful as I didn't want to damage
them. That trick gave me the confidence to walk without much fear
though I doubt it hid much. I kept them on for most of the journey the next day and I even passed a few people wearing them bound to my chest. It felt amazing. A pretty girl biker passed and I'm sure she noticed as she turned around and rode back to me in a way that wouldn't make sense otherwise. She smiled as she passed and I said 'hi' in my most feminine sounding voice but I couldn't help but wonder. 'Does she like me?' 'Does she like crossdressers?' I know it was unlikely but it's situations like that where I know I'm definitely attracted to girls as that has never happened with a guy.
Walking that full day felt so good I did it again a few days later. The temperature had jumped so much that wearing a jacket wold be silly but I did it anyway. I needed my safety net. The trails were packed all day. The first couple surprised me and as I wasn't prepared I'm sure the woman saw everything. I gave a shy wave and hurried off. I hadn't even gotten to the halfway point when I'd passed three other groups then saw a group of twenty people sitting at the turnabout. With so many people I found a place to change. I couldn't take it.
Here's the silly part. With all the weight I've gained over the years I've accumulated enough fat on my chest to almost fill an A cup. While I've lost easily 80 lbs in the last few years I still haven't gotten rid of my 'moobs'. The weight loss had made my most comfortable sports bra loose enough that I worried my breast forms would fall out. Instead I used a smaller sized bra that I usually used without breast forms. They worked well with breast forms but what I hadn't counted on was how it would push my looser skin in a way that created two noticeable bumps on my chest..
I didn't notice myself until much later. The sight of my own chest sticking out from the tight fitting jacket made me laugh. I doubt many would notice but the thought of going on hormones to make them bigger made me happy but it wasn't just that. All I really want is enough change to the fat distribution in my body so someone wouldn't notice 'man in a dress' immediately. I knew I'd definitely live as a woman if I could too but I'd give anything just for that small victory.
My legs felt wiped from three long hikes in five days and I knew the last part would take a lot longer than normal so I decided to enjoy it. Few people travel this part of the trail so I decided to go full bore. No jacket. Just a bra with breast forms.
The day had cooled some but it still felt good to take off the jacket. I tied my coat around my waist and began to walk. Three miles until civilization. I kept a wary eye in case someone decided to go this route which took away some of the fun but a slight brush of my chest sent a shiver down my spine. I looked at myself from the outside. Yes I looked like a man in my face but a woman below the neck line. I didn't have the classic curves of a Marilyn Monroe or or the long runway legs of a Gisele but I looked like a woman nonetheless. Wearing just cargo pants, a backpack, and a sports bra with oversized breasts I realized I looked like bigger version of Lara Croft (a video game / movie character if you aren't aware). The idea made me laugh.
The sports bra felt entirely natural. I'd had body issues my whole life and never liked showing my shoulders or stomach but was it possible that all these years I'd secretly felt ashamed of my underdeveloped chest? I felt embolded with every step. That had to be it. It made sense. My body issues in that area hadn't really occurred until 6th grade which is about the time most girls start to develop. Was it possible? I knew only a therapist could help me answer that question but I couldn't do that yet.
I did know I felt comfortable in my skin for the first time in a long time. I was making good progress losing weight and the continual depression of the past had turned into ups and downs.
My hike was almost halfway to the spot where I knew I'd have to change when I saw two people in the distance. My disappointment hit me like a truck. I'm not sure if they saw me but I think they did as they turned around. I couldn't see them clearly because I didn't have my glasses but I could tell by their voices it was two women (if only!).
I looked at my chest to see the two large protrusions. Even if the women didn't notice my large chest I'm sure they saw my bra as my bare stomach and shoulders were hard to miss. I stopped, put the breastforms in my backpack, and put on the jacket with the zipper undone so I could still see the bra.
The bra still appeared to hold the boobs of a 12 year old girl as it pulled everything together. I decided I had to catch the two women to let them see me up close. I still have no idea why I wanted to do this.
I'm sure I scared them a little like the bodybuilder had done to me the previous week but I couldn't worry about it. They stopped when I got within about 20 yards.
One lady asked, "Where are you coming from?"
I didn't bother to disguise my voice. I know it's not ready anyway. "I did the full circuit."
"Nice."
"Do you live around here?"
"In the housing development up the road."
"That's a nice area."
They made it obvious they were done talking so I said, "See you around."
They answered, "See you around."
I kept going up the trail. I have no idea what they thought about the guy wearing a sports bra but their gaze didn't even move from my eyes as we spoke. I'm sure it would have been different if it were two men but I know I couldn't have spoke with two men wearing a sports bra. The only reason I think I did it was to feel like part of the sisterhood but these two weren't ready to accept me. Not yet anyway.
As I finished my walk I thought about my progress and it made me think of the game truth or dare.
Do I want to be happy? Truth.
Am I transgendered? Truth.
Have I done everything I can to live with myself without making a change? Truth.
Would I want to live as a woman despite all the negatives? Truth.
Does the pain hurt so much that I'm willing to risk losing friends and family? Truth
Do I want to try hormones? Truth.
Do I want to transition? Dare.
Would it be so bad if I could finally find some happiness?
Two years ago when I started I weighed 308 lbs. I haven't weighed myself for fear of disappointing myself or giving myself a reason to slack off. I just keep working out and hoping my pants sizes will continue to go down. I started at a 48 sized waist and I'm almost at a 38. My goal is a 32 before I weigh myself. That was my waist size in college. If I can get my weight to my high school weight of 165 I'm going to look into transitioning. A therapist can help me figure everything out and if they agree I've got GID then that's a good weight to start transitioning. Hormones will move fat around as I take more weight off as my muscles start to atrophy without testosterone. I just need to stick to a good workout plan and a healthy diet. Will it take six months? A year?
I know it's going to take a lot of work but everyone needs a goal. In the meantime, if you see a man wearing a pair of breast forms walking in a park make sure you say hi. She needs all the encouragement she can get.
Wednesday, November 26, 2014
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