Thanks for Visiting!

Thanks so much for visiting my little invisible corner of the digital world. I'd love to make a few friends, so feel free to comment anywhere, even just to say hi.

Much love,

-Hailey-
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friendship. Show all posts

Friday, January 18, 2013

A Long-delayed Explanation

Anonymous Wrote:
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 -

Monday, December 24, 2012

Keikan


Looking up at the stars tonight, their ancient light refracting into thousands of colors by my tears made me realize something I hadn’t understood before.  Its funny, sometimes, what it takes to make us see clearly.  Today I woke up, checked email and tumblr, and realized that there is a woman whom I’d dearly like as a friend.  I’m not sure how it happened, or just what it is about her posts that draw me… but last night she told us all that she wondered whether she should continue… why not just wake up from this dream world… all we know…
Maybe if you had been positive, helpful, and clever, like so many other of your posts, I would never have realized that I’d become attached.  But the thought of your feed going silent has been echoing in my mind all day, like a monotone heart monitor, stinging my ears with what might be a permanent loss… oh won’t the beeps come back… won’t a post bear away the torture of wondering… is she gone?
Weeks ago, several more-elderly ladies on a chatboard talked about the friends they had lost to violence and suicide.  Beautiful trans* souls, lost to us because of the world… the reality of intolerance…  Today I have the inescapable feeling that, as I connect with my sisters around the world, it may only be time that separates me from the grief of losing someone I know.  It may not be a question of if, so much as when…  A callous observer might wonder if perusing such friendships is worthwhile.  It is.  Every moment that we can know each other, help each other, cry with each other is worth it.  If, in the years to come, we must bear the pain of laying one of our sisters down to rest, then I will gladly do it.  In a moment like that, we will know that the grief born on the wings of a spirit freed of her torment is only a fraction of the beauty and value we gained by walking, even for a short while, and even at a distance, with such a beautiful soul.
And in those friendships which we do pursue, we may find that life continues, and the joy of kinship, the peace of companionship; those things the world makes so costly for us, may in fact prevail over death.  Maybe not always… maybe not for everyone…  but for some of us.  
Keikan, I hope, and am trying to believe, that you will wonder what all the fuss is about. =)  That would be the best.  I hope and pray that  the monitor is just in between its regular, lively beeps; your beautiful heart borne to us through your tumblr posts (of all things).  You have made me realize that there are, besides yourself, several ladies that I would like to know…  I am timid, and shy, but it doesn’t matter.  And anyway, it’s Christmas; and Christmas is a time when we ought to tell the truth.  The truth is, I’d like to be your friend.  Paige and Gwen, I’d like to be your friends too… Nicole… how did I ever live without you?
There are probably many, many others, but it is you four that I would cry for, if your feeds disappeared.  I cried today for one of you… I’ve barely eaten… I feel like apologizing for how “silly” I am, taking one post from a girl I’ve not met so hard… but it isn’t silly, not in reality.  Your life means something to me, and a lot more to others. And if one stranger bears real grief at the thought of losing you, it is a real accolade to who you’ve tried to be, and succeeded.  I will remember you, (even if you’re freaked out by all this) because you’ve made my life better.  The light in your heart, and in your eyes, will endure in mine… all the more if you are happy and well this evening.
Merry Christmas, Keikan.

Saturday, December 15, 2012

A poem for my friend


So I have a friend now, as I mentioned, and she's already meant the world to me.  For all the emotion I normally have to bury for other people's sake, I now have a "secret" tunnel.  So when I saw the season's first snowflakes, falling, hidden, amidst the rain, today, I was inspired, doubly.  We two will always have to weather some storms... its what being made trans* means, in this world, at this time.  But in all storms, there are rays of hope, and help to be found.

To my friend, a woman who has been hope, and help, to me, though the storm rages on.


For My Friend

The night our life in darkness shrouds
  hiding hopes and tainting dreams.
  When dark fogs snuff the starlit gleam,
You’re the shimmer in the clouds

Troubles ours, many sorrows shared
   but burdens lessened by the sound
   of loving songs; kind words, profound.
For hope, it seems, our souls are paired.

So cold the wind may blow again,
  pouring down a grey sky’s tears.
  When life stings cold; aching cares,
You’re the snowflakes in the rain.