I had a dream last night; one of those half-day dreams that happen near the edge of sleep, when you're not sure which parts you crafted yourself and which parts are from dreamland. I was invisible.. just a watcher. My wife stood on an empty sidewalk, peering down at the figure of a man, walking slowly toward us. She choked back a sob as she realized who it was, unbelieving that it could be true.
The man was me, only, not me, but the person I've tried to be for so much of my life. He was everything everyone thought I was until I told them otherwise, now a complete person; and I was gone. In dreams, you often know things that are known, somehow, to everyone. In this dream, he, and she, and I all knew that this man was real, and that no part of me or my gender was left in him.
He walked slowly up, smiling gently. "I'm back," he said. In two words, all her fears and horrors were dispelled, and all her most earnest hopes and dreams returned. They embraced and cried. She held him so tightly, clinging to every future hope that he represents, knowing that her own nightmare had finally ended.
...
And as I stood there, watching, alone and unseen, I was at once, so very happy, and so very sad. What I would do to buy that moment for her, to grant the girl I love the dearest dream and hope... one that had been promised, but falsely, long ago, and to which we've worked and laboured together for so long. Our Future. Our Life. But in that moment, knowing, and more so, feeling so keenly what relief had swept over her cut such sharp contrast over reality. That man doesn't exist. He's never existed, and I can't give him to her. The only person here is me, and as I walk up a sidewalk, there are no tears of joy... I am, in a terrible way, "half the man I used to be," or likely a bit less. A compromise solution.
So I pause here, keyboard awash in tears, wondering what it is I've done wrong. I've carried this storm with me my entire life, and now that it's out, it's reeking exactly the chaos I always feared it would. How happy my dearest loves would be if I didn't exist, but some other person. But I can't give them what they want, and they must tolerate, rather than love, who is left... my bare heart, aching and yearning for love... just a girl asking to be loved...
Sunday, February 17, 2013
Tuesday, February 5, 2013
A Painful Request
I've been meaning to write about the great things that have been happening to me these last few weeks... but, as life goes, by and by, the pain of one thing overwhelms the joy of the others. I'm sorry to cry, maybe, since so many of my posts are really a translation of my silent tears... unspendable on warm, caring shoulders, as I have none close enough. (How I cry for you, Nicole... I could use you today...)
Last week I got my blood work for HRT done. Everything came back great... healthier than I've ever been, in fact. My counselor enthusiastically wrote "the letter," knowing nothing better for my psychological well-being than the medicines to quell this androgen disease.
But my wife isn't ready. Originally, we had planned to see the doctor together, but as I visit the campus clinic, hours don't readily overlap well with the schedule of a family of five. The first few times, I went myself, because of this. But now we're ready to start, and my wife feels like I've betrayed some small part; some large part... of our agreement. She feels like I've removed her from the picture, and am moving forward, down my own road without her.
I understand the sentiment... though it was not my intent at all. So, instead of going in tomorrow... ... ... I'm rescheduling for some new appointment in the future. Hopefully it won't be too far out, but i'm not hopeful. They are quite busy. Two more weeks won't actually kill me, right? My wife has asked why such a short time weighs so heavily on my heart.
To voluntarily give up the medications... to wait a few more days to eat, starving though I am... to wait another hour for an ambulance, though I lay bleeding on the rain-soaked pavement... (yeah, I'm getting a little melodramatic... I know...)
I want to express how hard it is for me to do this... and have tried, but she is unmovable. I want her to be a part of this very badly. I can think of nothing better than to transition together, rather than alone, but this is very hard.
She has no intention of saying no to HRT in general; but only wants to talk to the doctor; to feel like she's in the loop. I understand that quite well... I wish it didn't hurt so much to wait...
So to all of you ladies out there who DO understand how it must feel to deny myself this, I just wanted to say, I'm crying... and I'm crushed.. and I'm glad that you understand, and that some of you care. I don't now how I'd make it through all this without you all. Really.
All my love, and with all my heart.. broken though it is.
Your Hailey
Last week I got my blood work for HRT done. Everything came back great... healthier than I've ever been, in fact. My counselor enthusiastically wrote "the letter," knowing nothing better for my psychological well-being than the medicines to quell this androgen disease.
But my wife isn't ready. Originally, we had planned to see the doctor together, but as I visit the campus clinic, hours don't readily overlap well with the schedule of a family of five. The first few times, I went myself, because of this. But now we're ready to start, and my wife feels like I've betrayed some small part; some large part... of our agreement. She feels like I've removed her from the picture, and am moving forward, down my own road without her.
I understand the sentiment... though it was not my intent at all. So, instead of going in tomorrow... ... ... I'm rescheduling for some new appointment in the future. Hopefully it won't be too far out, but i'm not hopeful. They are quite busy. Two more weeks won't actually kill me, right? My wife has asked why such a short time weighs so heavily on my heart.
To voluntarily give up the medications... to wait a few more days to eat, starving though I am... to wait another hour for an ambulance, though I lay bleeding on the rain-soaked pavement... (yeah, I'm getting a little melodramatic... I know...)
I want to express how hard it is for me to do this... and have tried, but she is unmovable. I want her to be a part of this very badly. I can think of nothing better than to transition together, rather than alone, but this is very hard.
She has no intention of saying no to HRT in general; but only wants to talk to the doctor; to feel like she's in the loop. I understand that quite well... I wish it didn't hurt so much to wait...
So to all of you ladies out there who DO understand how it must feel to deny myself this, I just wanted to say, I'm crying... and I'm crushed.. and I'm glad that you understand, and that some of you care. I don't now how I'd make it through all this without you all. Really.
All my love, and with all my heart.. broken though it is.
Your Hailey
Friday, January 18, 2013
A Long-delayed Explanation
Anonymous Wrote:
I've known I'd have to write this post for some time, but, as things often go, have tried to delay the inevitable. When I started this blog some months ago, my whole hope was to combat my dysphoria through my writing. I thought, if I could keep reminding myself of all the reasons why transitioning "will hurt everyone," that, through patience and discipline I could keep that hammer from falling onto my brittle life.
So what's changed, since then? I guess it's been a lot of things, some lesser, and some much greater. My line of reasoning for non-transition was really three-pronged, and each of those three ideas have been challenged. Firstly, my wife didn't want me to change. That alone, I thought, would keep me locked up forever. I would die for her, so why not live, albiet as a man that I'm not, for her? Secondly, my kids... How to even begin expounding all the ways society would make their life difficult because of me... and lastly, because, in love, I'd rather be hurt than to hurt; to sacrifice rather than require sacrifice, to cry myself, day after day, rather than cause tears.
What I hoped, was that in reminding myself of these, in clear, plain writing, which has so often helped me focus my thoughts and encourage myself, I might help myself endure, and, with any luck, help other people who are trying the same thing. I'd found nobody else like me, after all, and figured that if we were out there, nobody would know, precisely because we weren't transitioning. I thought maybe, somebody out there, might feel less lonely and hopeless because of me. Vain, maybe, but not the worst kind of vanity... Something inside of me wanted to know that I could be a positive addition to the world, rather than a problem only...
And it is that longing which has finally made the difference. I am afraid, that whether by design, or by some "failure" to endure, that I am not able to keep these weights on my shoulders... I love people, and want so badly to be a good thing to them, but when my whole self, my heart and soul,... all of me, has to be chained up, erased, and forgotten in order for others not to be hurt... it just makes me feel miserable. This word has been used too much by teenagers, I think... What I mean is real, soul-breaking misery. I am not valuable enough to be. The people I love most will only be hurt (and terribly so) if they see who I really am. So went the thoughts. It is unbearable for a soft spirit like me to know that, at best, I can only come out even with the world... add enough good to somehow make up for the apparently horrifying, disgusting truth hidden away inside. But how can I live as a wash? A compromise solution... And so, the old thoughts crept back in.
They are mourning over me already... and as long as I'm here, they will always mourn the loss of the boy they knew, that this "new me" has slain... might I spare them the lifetime of mourning all-together, and myself be free? My death would hurt my family, but I started wondering if it would hurt less, in the end, than my life. Kids, after all, lose parents all the time, and, if they are young when it happens, aren't too much the worse for the wear once they've grown... These are false statements, all, but that's how the mind works...
When I realized I'd become suicidal again, I knew that I'd lost one of my choices. I am terrified of being in that place again.. I've spent too much of my past on the verge of death... and I am terrified of it. I can't lose myself. If I die, even inwardly, then all the things that I am hoping to keep for my family are lost as well. A nice-looking, soul-dead father is not a father at all, nor a husband... I wish I had been someone else, someone stronger, or someone without emotion... someone else... because then I wouldn't be this problem. But, for better or for worse, God was pleased to let His daughter live. He liked me enough to allow this strange life... He knew the tears I'd cry all my life, and was willing to cry them with me, because I was valuable to Him. So, finally, I choose life... in what ever form I can have it, and I will hold up just as many of these plates as I can; maybe once a few come crashing down, we'll realize that the remainder are still quite nice to live with.
A Few Other Things
So there are other aspects of this. My wife realized, fairly recently, that, in insisting that I stay masculine, had lost her position as my safest place. There are defences I have to hold when I'm with her, so that I don't hurt her, and so when she says things that hurt me, even well-intentioned things, that I don't retaliate or make her feel bad for who she is. She realized that, if we take this path, she will always have been my de facto jailer... and the relationship between us could not be what either of us wanted. She wants to be the safest place on earth, for me, but cannot be that place if I have to find other people, mostly other trans girls, to cry with.
Hold that thought for just a moment so to add one more thing. Since I am in my 30's, I am nearing certain genetic cues that will make me very much more masculine than I have been. I will start losing my hairline, my beard will start becoming that "sexy" ash-tray look that the males in my family all have... My forehead and jaw will continue to become more angular. My body is getting hairier. These are horrifying things for a girl to go through... If that girl is already crying about having to live in a boy's body, these changes are entirely defeating emotionally. I cannot face it...
So these two reasons are why we decided that I really need hormones. I will no longer continue becoming more masculine, and that will buy both of us time to process. My wife's also been looking at pictures of post-transition women, and has realized that all her mental images are of drag-queens, which are NOT what most trans girl wants to look like... fairly counter-productive if all your feminine features ACCENT your masculinity, rather than erase it, after all.
Our Current Plan, and Unresolved Issues
So what she's suggested, not without a lot of fear, and a strong agreement not to set any of this in stone, is that I will go on hormones, and, once my body is far enough along to pass well, then start transitioning with clothing and such, but only at home. This is a bit backward from many ladies, who transition socially at the same time, or before, starting hormones, and then letting their bodies catch up. She knows, even though she doesn't like it, that seeing me in a "half-and-half" position will illicit a lot of transphobic gut-reactions, and she doesn't want that. Once I've transitioned at home, we'll also let our Church and local friends know, but not present as female in those places at first. The reason for this are two-fold. First, everyone needs time to decide whether they'll stick with intolerance or not. Forcing something on somebody is a very good way to get their negative counter-reaction, rather than the positive one that may (or may not) come through relationship, conversation, and contemplation. Secondly, and more importantly, it will mean that our girls will not have to be secret keepers. Everyone in their life will already know, even if they haven't seen, that I am transgender. There will be awkward moments, of course, but we hope that this will help reduce much of the shame they might otherwise feel.
We also want the two girls (our son is not yet one year old) to take part in the process. Let them help with things like clothes or hair, things we already do together, but now with me involved as a female. Our oldest, in particular, we want to be involved. Since the hormone changes will be so slow, it should give us a very nice long while to rework our family dynamic. I hope this will help.
What we don't know how to manage, is all of our old friends, churches, and, of course, family... there are some very intolerant people out there, and while most of them are not close friends, many are friends of friends, and will make things very challenging. My wife feels a lot of shame, in this regard. What will people think of her, after all. Will they look down as a mother, for keeping her kids in such a "toxic environment." Will they degrade her in their minds as one of "those homosexuals."
There's just all kinds of wonderful things to worry about in this category...
We also don't know how things will be in regards to intimacy and romance. We'll work on it, and rest assured, I will NOT blog about it much. (quite shy... and private... yeah...) There are religious questions that we are still grappling with as well.
So yeah, a lot of changes. The thrust of it is that I cannot be anyone if I am depressed and suicidal. Since this is not a chemical depression, but one caused by social marginalization, drugs would only help if they made me into a vegetable... so I've lost my choice to stay male. With that option gone, we are trying to make the best of what options remain. It hurts immensely. I know that the hammer is starting to fall... and it will fall on my wife most of all. The pain she feels is unbearable for me to see... but I cannot blame myself like I used to. I just can't go there again.
I am sad for the spouses that may read this blog. I hoped that I could encourage them... as much as the trans girls themselves, their wives face terrible emotional and societal abuse. I want to be helpful, but I don't want to be deceptive either.
Finally, anon, I want to encourage you in your faith. I WOULD NOT BE HERE except for Christ. He was the only one that held my hand through all the suicidal nights, all those many years. He is far more real than many people realize, and has been my ever-present help and encouragement. I would not know how to love, or to bear with, or to sacrifice except that He showed me first. Pray and listen, and He will help you both through this. He designed and chose both of you, and IS WITH YOU NOW. He will not abandon you to this, not ever. You are not alone with your spouse in this struggle, and He, unlike us, DOES see what's ahead, and brought you on this road. There is a reason for it, and it is a good one.
Thank you for your comment. I am sorry it took me so long to write this. Look me up on tumblr (haileygirlme) if you or her would like to get to know me (or potentially my wife, but she's a bit shy online). There are not very many Christian-identified transgender girls and spouses that I have met, but the few that have, have been so very good to know. You can message me through this blog, as well, if you like.
So to all who read this, thank you for walking with me through this. The love and support I've found in some of you ladies has been crucial during this period of my life. All my love and kindest regards!
- Hailey -
Hi Hailey, My husband and I are in a very similar situation. He is a non-transitioning xy tg girl, who lives fully as a man to the outside world. We are also new to our Christian life as well as our tg life. We found your blog about a week ago, and felt like we found kindred spirits in you and your wife. We were surprised to see your post about your hrt appt and beginning the transitioning process. If you don't mind my asking, what changed? And, what about your wife and little ones? How are they dealing with this change of plans? Thank you for being here online. It means a lot to us to have found someone dealing with similar things. You've been a comfort to my husband.
I've known I'd have to write this post for some time, but, as things often go, have tried to delay the inevitable. When I started this blog some months ago, my whole hope was to combat my dysphoria through my writing. I thought, if I could keep reminding myself of all the reasons why transitioning "will hurt everyone," that, through patience and discipline I could keep that hammer from falling onto my brittle life.
So what's changed, since then? I guess it's been a lot of things, some lesser, and some much greater. My line of reasoning for non-transition was really three-pronged, and each of those three ideas have been challenged. Firstly, my wife didn't want me to change. That alone, I thought, would keep me locked up forever. I would die for her, so why not live, albiet as a man that I'm not, for her? Secondly, my kids... How to even begin expounding all the ways society would make their life difficult because of me... and lastly, because, in love, I'd rather be hurt than to hurt; to sacrifice rather than require sacrifice, to cry myself, day after day, rather than cause tears.
What I hoped, was that in reminding myself of these, in clear, plain writing, which has so often helped me focus my thoughts and encourage myself, I might help myself endure, and, with any luck, help other people who are trying the same thing. I'd found nobody else like me, after all, and figured that if we were out there, nobody would know, precisely because we weren't transitioning. I thought maybe, somebody out there, might feel less lonely and hopeless because of me. Vain, maybe, but not the worst kind of vanity... Something inside of me wanted to know that I could be a positive addition to the world, rather than a problem only...
And it is that longing which has finally made the difference. I am afraid, that whether by design, or by some "failure" to endure, that I am not able to keep these weights on my shoulders... I love people, and want so badly to be a good thing to them, but when my whole self, my heart and soul,... all of me, has to be chained up, erased, and forgotten in order for others not to be hurt... it just makes me feel miserable. This word has been used too much by teenagers, I think... What I mean is real, soul-breaking misery. I am not valuable enough to be. The people I love most will only be hurt (and terribly so) if they see who I really am. So went the thoughts. It is unbearable for a soft spirit like me to know that, at best, I can only come out even with the world... add enough good to somehow make up for the apparently horrifying, disgusting truth hidden away inside. But how can I live as a wash? A compromise solution... And so, the old thoughts crept back in.
They are mourning over me already... and as long as I'm here, they will always mourn the loss of the boy they knew, that this "new me" has slain... might I spare them the lifetime of mourning all-together, and myself be free? My death would hurt my family, but I started wondering if it would hurt less, in the end, than my life. Kids, after all, lose parents all the time, and, if they are young when it happens, aren't too much the worse for the wear once they've grown... These are false statements, all, but that's how the mind works...
When I realized I'd become suicidal again, I knew that I'd lost one of my choices. I am terrified of being in that place again.. I've spent too much of my past on the verge of death... and I am terrified of it. I can't lose myself. If I die, even inwardly, then all the things that I am hoping to keep for my family are lost as well. A nice-looking, soul-dead father is not a father at all, nor a husband... I wish I had been someone else, someone stronger, or someone without emotion... someone else... because then I wouldn't be this problem. But, for better or for worse, God was pleased to let His daughter live. He liked me enough to allow this strange life... He knew the tears I'd cry all my life, and was willing to cry them with me, because I was valuable to Him. So, finally, I choose life... in what ever form I can have it, and I will hold up just as many of these plates as I can; maybe once a few come crashing down, we'll realize that the remainder are still quite nice to live with.
A Few Other Things
So there are other aspects of this. My wife realized, fairly recently, that, in insisting that I stay masculine, had lost her position as my safest place. There are defences I have to hold when I'm with her, so that I don't hurt her, and so when she says things that hurt me, even well-intentioned things, that I don't retaliate or make her feel bad for who she is. She realized that, if we take this path, she will always have been my de facto jailer... and the relationship between us could not be what either of us wanted. She wants to be the safest place on earth, for me, but cannot be that place if I have to find other people, mostly other trans girls, to cry with.
Hold that thought for just a moment so to add one more thing. Since I am in my 30's, I am nearing certain genetic cues that will make me very much more masculine than I have been. I will start losing my hairline, my beard will start becoming that "sexy" ash-tray look that the males in my family all have... My forehead and jaw will continue to become more angular. My body is getting hairier. These are horrifying things for a girl to go through... If that girl is already crying about having to live in a boy's body, these changes are entirely defeating emotionally. I cannot face it...
So these two reasons are why we decided that I really need hormones. I will no longer continue becoming more masculine, and that will buy both of us time to process. My wife's also been looking at pictures of post-transition women, and has realized that all her mental images are of drag-queens, which are NOT what most trans girl wants to look like... fairly counter-productive if all your feminine features ACCENT your masculinity, rather than erase it, after all.
Our Current Plan, and Unresolved Issues
So what she's suggested, not without a lot of fear, and a strong agreement not to set any of this in stone, is that I will go on hormones, and, once my body is far enough along to pass well, then start transitioning with clothing and such, but only at home. This is a bit backward from many ladies, who transition socially at the same time, or before, starting hormones, and then letting their bodies catch up. She knows, even though she doesn't like it, that seeing me in a "half-and-half" position will illicit a lot of transphobic gut-reactions, and she doesn't want that. Once I've transitioned at home, we'll also let our Church and local friends know, but not present as female in those places at first. The reason for this are two-fold. First, everyone needs time to decide whether they'll stick with intolerance or not. Forcing something on somebody is a very good way to get their negative counter-reaction, rather than the positive one that may (or may not) come through relationship, conversation, and contemplation. Secondly, and more importantly, it will mean that our girls will not have to be secret keepers. Everyone in their life will already know, even if they haven't seen, that I am transgender. There will be awkward moments, of course, but we hope that this will help reduce much of the shame they might otherwise feel.
We also want the two girls (our son is not yet one year old) to take part in the process. Let them help with things like clothes or hair, things we already do together, but now with me involved as a female. Our oldest, in particular, we want to be involved. Since the hormone changes will be so slow, it should give us a very nice long while to rework our family dynamic. I hope this will help.
What we don't know how to manage, is all of our old friends, churches, and, of course, family... there are some very intolerant people out there, and while most of them are not close friends, many are friends of friends, and will make things very challenging. My wife feels a lot of shame, in this regard. What will people think of her, after all. Will they look down as a mother, for keeping her kids in such a "toxic environment." Will they degrade her in their minds as one of "those homosexuals."
There's just all kinds of wonderful things to worry about in this category...
We also don't know how things will be in regards to intimacy and romance. We'll work on it, and rest assured, I will NOT blog about it much. (quite shy... and private... yeah...) There are religious questions that we are still grappling with as well.
So yeah, a lot of changes. The thrust of it is that I cannot be anyone if I am depressed and suicidal. Since this is not a chemical depression, but one caused by social marginalization, drugs would only help if they made me into a vegetable... so I've lost my choice to stay male. With that option gone, we are trying to make the best of what options remain. It hurts immensely. I know that the hammer is starting to fall... and it will fall on my wife most of all. The pain she feels is unbearable for me to see... but I cannot blame myself like I used to. I just can't go there again.
I am sad for the spouses that may read this blog. I hoped that I could encourage them... as much as the trans girls themselves, their wives face terrible emotional and societal abuse. I want to be helpful, but I don't want to be deceptive either.
Finally, anon, I want to encourage you in your faith. I WOULD NOT BE HERE except for Christ. He was the only one that held my hand through all the suicidal nights, all those many years. He is far more real than many people realize, and has been my ever-present help and encouragement. I would not know how to love, or to bear with, or to sacrifice except that He showed me first. Pray and listen, and He will help you both through this. He designed and chose both of you, and IS WITH YOU NOW. He will not abandon you to this, not ever. You are not alone with your spouse in this struggle, and He, unlike us, DOES see what's ahead, and brought you on this road. There is a reason for it, and it is a good one.
Thank you for your comment. I am sorry it took me so long to write this. Look me up on tumblr (haileygirlme) if you or her would like to get to know me (or potentially my wife, but she's a bit shy online). There are not very many Christian-identified transgender girls and spouses that I have met, but the few that have, have been so very good to know. You can message me through this blog, as well, if you like.
So to all who read this, thank you for walking with me through this. The love and support I've found in some of you ladies has been crucial during this period of my life. All my love and kindest regards!
- Hailey -
Thursday, January 17, 2013
Dysphoria Curveball?
Most days, the patterns of dysphoria are so well-worn through my mind that I could draw you a roadmap. Sometimes, though, completely new ones show up.
Today I got a very cool letter. Apparently, some work I did a while back has earned a national award. The letter was to inform me of this, and to invite me, expenses paid, to the award ceremony in Washington, DC. (I know, right?)
So a very nice letter to get. But here's the thing. What do I wear? (DYSPHORIA!) I won't have transitioned yet... but hormones should be around the 4-month mark by then, which might make me passable. My hair will be long enough, etc... And of course, its not like you have the opportunity to dress fancy and thank an old guy for a plaque very often... but... really??? in a suit??? =(... I just... I'm a girl...
I don't own a dress, and I likely won't by then... but... yeah...sort of spills the wind from the sails, a bit... At the very least, I suppose I'll be far less boyish by then, and might manage a snappy androgynous number... yeah... that's the spirit, Hailey!
Today I got a very cool letter. Apparently, some work I did a while back has earned a national award. The letter was to inform me of this, and to invite me, expenses paid, to the award ceremony in Washington, DC. (I know, right?)
So a very nice letter to get. But here's the thing. What do I wear? (DYSPHORIA!) I won't have transitioned yet... but hormones should be around the 4-month mark by then, which might make me passable. My hair will be long enough, etc... And of course, its not like you have the opportunity to dress fancy and thank an old guy for a plaque very often... but... really??? in a suit??? =(... I just... I'm a girl...
I don't own a dress, and I likely won't by then... but... yeah...sort of spills the wind from the sails, a bit... At the very least, I suppose I'll be far less boyish by then, and might manage a snappy androgynous number... yeah... that's the spirit, Hailey!
Tuesday, January 15, 2013
The Interesting Thing About Life
So I'm a grad student, and am taking a lot of rather cerebral classes lately. I know I shouldn't be embarrassed about being intelligent, but there it is. In any case, in one of my classes, we talk a lot about assumptions being made to support certain predictions. If such and such a thing is true, then this and this and this... you know, logic and math. But the other day, in my theory class, we started talking about WHY we make certain assumptions.
The thing about our assumptions, sometimes, is that as normal and required as they may seem; simple and obvious even, they really aren't always quite so rational... (Okay, miss Hailey, get on with it) (Oh, right!)
So the thing about life, is it goes on. Its always gone on, for all of you, and always goes on for me. But thinking about it... why doesn't it end when we go to sleep? Maybe some moment when you blink, your eyes don't open again... why not? We make the very valid assumption that time continues. So I've been thinking about this a bit. I don't know why I've been given the gift of a continuous time stream, stretching out in front of me, filled with the unknown future, but the thing is, whether I understand the assumption or not, it seems very true. And when you look at your future, knowing full well that all else in life is based solely on the notion that life continues, there are two options:
Hope or Despair
(Now she's getting somewhere!) For so long, the future has seemed so bleak for me. I don't know how best to love my dear, wonderful girl. It seems like no matter what I do, there is a high chance of her being extremely battered and bruised. She's clearly not ready for any kind of transition, and is equally un-ready for a life of keeping me in a cage... So that's how I've often thought, and its a heavy weight to carry. Most days I cry if I think too hard about it all.
But ultimately, I still do assume that life will go on, and in light of that, the mathematics are still quite plain. Life will be filled with its critical points and inflections no matter what we do or don't do. That will always be true. Its not a flat line... things change, we change, people change. So we are at something of a drawn out critical point right now (yeah, math people, I know... make it a flat-line discontinuity, if you like). Where life goes from here is a bit unknown, but that it will go somewhere is something that I'll take on faith. So, the only real question is, how best can I live? I can still love, and give, and cherish. I can still encourage and bear with. Some things are exogenous to my equation. I may not have too much choice left in transitioning. I will not willfully add suicidal depression to my variables; not again. So with that constraint, I will still do the best I can. I will make my choices so that in the end, I won't be able to blame myself for not loving where I could have, or not caring where I should have. People will have their ups and downs too, but not all of that (most of that... any of that?) is in my control.
So yeah, mathematical emotions... its how I am. At least, if it bored you, you wouldn't have gotten quite this far. =)
Well, I'm off to counselling. Yay for mental health! (Don't you just love healthy minds?) I'll try not to use the same terminology on the poor intern I'm seeing today... social science major, after all. (kidding! i'm kidding!)
Much Love!
- Hailey -
The thing about our assumptions, sometimes, is that as normal and required as they may seem; simple and obvious even, they really aren't always quite so rational... (Okay, miss Hailey, get on with it) (Oh, right!)
So the thing about life, is it goes on. Its always gone on, for all of you, and always goes on for me. But thinking about it... why doesn't it end when we go to sleep? Maybe some moment when you blink, your eyes don't open again... why not? We make the very valid assumption that time continues. So I've been thinking about this a bit. I don't know why I've been given the gift of a continuous time stream, stretching out in front of me, filled with the unknown future, but the thing is, whether I understand the assumption or not, it seems very true. And when you look at your future, knowing full well that all else in life is based solely on the notion that life continues, there are two options:
Hope or Despair
(Now she's getting somewhere!) For so long, the future has seemed so bleak for me. I don't know how best to love my dear, wonderful girl. It seems like no matter what I do, there is a high chance of her being extremely battered and bruised. She's clearly not ready for any kind of transition, and is equally un-ready for a life of keeping me in a cage... So that's how I've often thought, and its a heavy weight to carry. Most days I cry if I think too hard about it all.
But ultimately, I still do assume that life will go on, and in light of that, the mathematics are still quite plain. Life will be filled with its critical points and inflections no matter what we do or don't do. That will always be true. Its not a flat line... things change, we change, people change. So we are at something of a drawn out critical point right now (yeah, math people, I know... make it a flat-line discontinuity, if you like). Where life goes from here is a bit unknown, but that it will go somewhere is something that I'll take on faith. So, the only real question is, how best can I live? I can still love, and give, and cherish. I can still encourage and bear with. Some things are exogenous to my equation. I may not have too much choice left in transitioning. I will not willfully add suicidal depression to my variables; not again. So with that constraint, I will still do the best I can. I will make my choices so that in the end, I won't be able to blame myself for not loving where I could have, or not caring where I should have. People will have their ups and downs too, but not all of that (most of that... any of that?) is in my control.
So yeah, mathematical emotions... its how I am. At least, if it bored you, you wouldn't have gotten quite this far. =)
Well, I'm off to counselling. Yay for mental health! (Don't you just love healthy minds?) I'll try not to use the same terminology on the poor intern I'm seeing today... social science major, after all. (kidding! i'm kidding!)
Much Love!
- Hailey -
1st HRT appt Success!
Ok, last night was quite hectic, but I have a moment (right now) SOOO:
The appointment was really good. I dressed as girly as I could, because it helped me feel confident (right?). I had my purple tshirt on under my (purple) dress shirt all day, so I just quick pulled of the dress shirt in the bathroom before I was called in. Pink bracelet, hair foofy.. it was fun.
So as I was waiting, I was arguing with myself about whether or not I should use my new voice, or not. Actually, I was arguing about it all day, but it didn't get heated until I was waiting in the lobby. But then I realized, I will feel pretty awesome about myself if I get through a whole appointment in my girl voice, and I won't feel better about myself if I don't... SO... I did, and it rocked! So I did'nt go as high as I am able, but definitly kicked it up several notes.
OK, so the appointment itself. The Dr is really nice, and very kind. She was very up front about wanting me to feel comfortable and would adopt any terminology or definitions that I used, rather than try to nail down her own vocab (cause lets face it, everyone uses all the terms differently, on the best of days). She has treated only 3 other mtf's but is taking over for the psychiatrist on campus who used to do this but is retiring. She went through the professional contacts she'd made in the last few days to prepare to help ME (like, she's been on the phone with other doctors specifically for me!).
We went through all my medical and mental history, and all my family's history, and much else. She was convinced at the end that I definitely seemed ready to go on permanent-change allowed hormones, but since she's not an expert, wants to have the pscych people to talk to, as well as me, to move forward as a team. Seemed reasonable to me. =) I really like how humble she is about not knowing, but how clearly dedicated she is finding out what she needs to know. So, for follow-up, she booked two, double-length appointments to talk more in detail. One in two weeks, and another in four weeks. Hopefully, in that time, I will have had a couple two or three appts at councelling to get that end of it moving.
The last thing, as we were saying goodbye, was that she asked as to my name. "Are you going to keep your current name?" she asked. So I said no, and told her my chosen name is Hailey, with the whole "Hey, Lee," and family being able to call me Lee, for short, stuff. She was really tickled for some reason.. thought it was a great name and a great way to bridge to female, etc.. So then, she took my hand, and said, so sincerely, I could feel it, "Thanks for coming in, Hailey, I'm really glad that we are going to be able to work together on this." (I LOVE HEARING MY NAME!) happy sigh... =)
So yeah, she was very kind, and clearly very supportive. We didn't talk about timeline, really, but it was clear that once my councelor thinks this is a good idea, she'd have no reservations in going the next step medically.
YAY!
The appointment was really good. I dressed as girly as I could, because it helped me feel confident (right?). I had my purple tshirt on under my (purple) dress shirt all day, so I just quick pulled of the dress shirt in the bathroom before I was called in. Pink bracelet, hair foofy.. it was fun.
So as I was waiting, I was arguing with myself about whether or not I should use my new voice, or not. Actually, I was arguing about it all day, but it didn't get heated until I was waiting in the lobby. But then I realized, I will feel pretty awesome about myself if I get through a whole appointment in my girl voice, and I won't feel better about myself if I don't... SO... I did, and it rocked! So I did'nt go as high as I am able, but definitly kicked it up several notes.
OK, so the appointment itself. The Dr is really nice, and very kind. She was very up front about wanting me to feel comfortable and would adopt any terminology or definitions that I used, rather than try to nail down her own vocab (cause lets face it, everyone uses all the terms differently, on the best of days). She has treated only 3 other mtf's but is taking over for the psychiatrist on campus who used to do this but is retiring. She went through the professional contacts she'd made in the last few days to prepare to help ME (like, she's been on the phone with other doctors specifically for me!).
We went through all my medical and mental history, and all my family's history, and much else. She was convinced at the end that I definitely seemed ready to go on permanent-change allowed hormones, but since she's not an expert, wants to have the pscych people to talk to, as well as me, to move forward as a team. Seemed reasonable to me. =) I really like how humble she is about not knowing, but how clearly dedicated she is finding out what she needs to know. So, for follow-up, she booked two, double-length appointments to talk more in detail. One in two weeks, and another in four weeks. Hopefully, in that time, I will have had a couple two or three appts at councelling to get that end of it moving.
The last thing, as we were saying goodbye, was that she asked as to my name. "Are you going to keep your current name?" she asked. So I said no, and told her my chosen name is Hailey, with the whole "Hey, Lee," and family being able to call me Lee, for short, stuff. She was really tickled for some reason.. thought it was a great name and a great way to bridge to female, etc.. So then, she took my hand, and said, so sincerely, I could feel it, "Thanks for coming in, Hailey, I'm really glad that we are going to be able to work together on this." (I LOVE HEARING MY NAME!) happy sigh... =)
So yeah, she was very kind, and clearly very supportive. We didn't talk about timeline, really, but it was clear that once my councelor thinks this is a good idea, she'd have no reservations in going the next step medically.
YAY!
Tuesday, January 8, 2013
Feeling very awesomely girl today
I didn’t have nightmares or even bad
dreams all last night, which is first in a long while. I actually had
some sort of good dream (even rarer) in which I was my real gender.
All my good dreams are like that… they just don’t happen very
often… a couple times a year. Hey, it’s only the second week of
this year… so either I’m going to have a great dream-year, or
I’ve already used one up. =)
I wore a pretty scarf on my bike ride
to work. My hair is long enough now that all these little curls are
peaking out from under my bike helmet and I LOVE them. I lost too
much weight over break due to stress, not eating, throwing up because
of stress, and not eating because of stress… and I was pretty
stressed… but, now that I’m eating again, and feeling somewhat
healthier, I decided to take a look. Here’s the thing, I’ve got
pretty thighs. (Nicole knows how embarrassed I am to say such a thing
out loud). Apparently I passed some corner there with the whole
bikeriding thing.
I’m not sure just why I’m having
such an up day. I think its because of the genetics research they
just announced (even if the article version called me a transsexual
man…). I don’t mind the idea of having developed a female mind
because of unknown, rare environmental triggers, but if they are
right, it means my genes need to be in place too. There is more to
it than just genetics, but the genetics look like they have to be
there. What does that mean, you ask? It means that I am not just a
psychological girl; I am a genetic female. We think of XX and XY
being the whole story, but they are just the typical patterns that
are followed. There are, it seems, other pathways. Certainly, all
my other T related genes are NOT what I’d like them to be, but,
with a bit of gene sequencing, they’ve shown me that it was part of
my design all along to be a girl… not a mistake… not just
circumstance… but from a biological perspective, what I was
designed to be (given the correct triggers). And thank God for that,
because without those little gene sequences, I might have been a boy…
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