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...
Showing posts with label spouse. Show all posts
Showing posts with label spouse. Show all posts
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 -
Friday, November 30, 2012
Coming Out is Hard Work!
Well, the tally is up to three now, not including myself and my wife. I was able to talk to my brother-in-law across the pond yesterday, and talked to my dad-in-law about an hour ago.
So far, so good, I guess. Everyone's made it abundantly clear that they still love me and my family, and all that. It probably helps quite a bit that I'm not transitioning... no pronoun or name changes, etc... That's hardest on me, obviously, but easiest on everyone else; which is whole point.
I'm exhausted though... emotional maelstrom... It really doesn't help that this is finals week (I'm in a PhD program... first year...). We wanted to give everyone as much time as possible before we actually see them at Christmas. I didn't want to come out on Christmas either, or somehow try to wait till afterward... I'd just be crying most of it anyway... We're not telling anyone else, for the moment. Everyone needs to process a bit (me included!... I'm not invisible anymore... very strange...) and we want to let the initial emotional swirl calm down a bit. After that, we can see where we are at, and go from there. I'm praying that I can sleep finally... we'll see, I guess. It would certainly benefit my final exam scores next week. =)
Next Up: Well, again, we're going to wait and see how this works out first, but, theoretically, our new friends (coworkers and.. hmm... church??? for instance) will be next. Since we've newly arrived in this part of the country, we're building a new circle of friends already, and we want it to be one that knows what's going on... otherwise we'd just have to start again anyway. Best to do it from the ground up. I'm sure there will be people who aren't as interested in my friendship (or my wife's), but it'll be better to know that now, than after having invested our hearts and lives.
Whew... I need a break... from life... hmm... well, at least the worst of the anxiety is done, phone calls having been made. I think the emotions will calm from here (with serious ups and downs, no doubt).
(Sorry this is a pretty sporadically written post... I'm very tired, heart, mind, soul, and body. To all the dear, beautiful girls (and guys!) in this position, past, present and future, I send my sincerest, warmest sympathies... its very hard, isn't it?)
Love,
-Hailey-
So far, so good, I guess. Everyone's made it abundantly clear that they still love me and my family, and all that. It probably helps quite a bit that I'm not transitioning... no pronoun or name changes, etc... That's hardest on me, obviously, but easiest on everyone else; which is whole point.
I'm exhausted though... emotional maelstrom... It really doesn't help that this is finals week (I'm in a PhD program... first year...). We wanted to give everyone as much time as possible before we actually see them at Christmas. I didn't want to come out on Christmas either, or somehow try to wait till afterward... I'd just be crying most of it anyway... We're not telling anyone else, for the moment. Everyone needs to process a bit (me included!... I'm not invisible anymore... very strange...) and we want to let the initial emotional swirl calm down a bit. After that, we can see where we are at, and go from there. I'm praying that I can sleep finally... we'll see, I guess. It would certainly benefit my final exam scores next week. =)
Next Up: Well, again, we're going to wait and see how this works out first, but, theoretically, our new friends (coworkers and.. hmm... church??? for instance) will be next. Since we've newly arrived in this part of the country, we're building a new circle of friends already, and we want it to be one that knows what's going on... otherwise we'd just have to start again anyway. Best to do it from the ground up. I'm sure there will be people who aren't as interested in my friendship (or my wife's), but it'll be better to know that now, than after having invested our hearts and lives.
Whew... I need a break... from life... hmm... well, at least the worst of the anxiety is done, phone calls having been made. I think the emotions will calm from here (with serious ups and downs, no doubt).
(Sorry this is a pretty sporadically written post... I'm very tired, heart, mind, soul, and body. To all the dear, beautiful girls (and guys!) in this position, past, present and future, I send my sincerest, warmest sympathies... its very hard, isn't it?)
Love,
-Hailey-
Tuesday, November 27, 2012
How I Told My Mom
First of all, let me allay one point of confusion: My actual Mom and Dad are extremely unhelpful people and will be quite a way down the list of people to come out to. All further references to my "Mom and Dad" in this post refer to my wife's parents, who care a great deal more about loving people, and to whom I am as endeared as any daughter (or son) to her (or his) biological parents. I love my own parents a lot, they're just difficult, and always have been.
So yeah, I came out to my Mom last night. My wife and I have been talking at length these last months and we've finally struck on a compromise that may work for us. Transitioning to a female body and lifestyle is too much for her, and would be, at best, harmful to our children. Its sad that society would be so happy to emotionally beat them for having a loving, but trans parent, but that would be the case, nonetheless. However, as most trans folks know, living as the wrong, biologically enforced gender forever is also extremely harmful. I feel like I'm bottling up the acid and poison of the world's hate for me and soaking my heart in it; hoping in vain that by staying secret, I'm helping someone. But that very real hatred tears and shreds the soul, and my heart's endurance is failing...
Neither can I change to a woman, nor can I live as a man. In one way or the other, I am neither.
My wife put it this way. She cannot probably survive the social and familial upheaval of a transition, and could not sleep but in tears next to a fem-styled man whom she once was attracted to. But at the same time, she cannot be the jailer for someone she loves so dearly. She cannot bear the pain and misery of her companion's shackled life, knowing that she holds a key to her female husband's freedom. Yet using that key will slay her.
So it seemed we were at an impasse, and that's not a place we are willing to be. It has begun to look like we needed to start helping each other dig some other tunnel out of this cell.
What we've decided is that, first of all, I need to be out. I cannot carry the secret between just herself and I any more than she can, because we will always have very real, legitimate, but unfortunately opposed desires. I need to be able to tell my family and friends who I am. We all long to be known and loved, and though in my case, being known means shocking a lot of people, it is the same basic desire of every human heart. "Please know me. Please love me." Not everyone will, of course, but that too is a reality that all humans face, whether they are so fortunate to be cis- or not.
Secondly, we are going to explore how I might start a slow process of presenting in an androgenous way. I thank all the "metrosexual" style folks for opening some doors for more feminine looks for men. I also thank the courage of the gay community for forcing the issue of looks on the world: it seems they may have bought me an opportunity.
We're still working through the beginning details, and for her sake, we are going to be extremely slow and self-evaluating in the whole deal. I'm growing out my hair, and finally (FINALLY!) going to be able to shave off all the rest. I'll use girl deodorant and all those fun things that nobody will notice anyway. That's the start, but its all still invisible to all but ourselves. Next will be a very slow (spelled: budget) change in my wardrobe. Not sure how to go here, but again, looking for close-fitting, sometimes mens' styles that help me look and feel more girly, without crossing too many social boundaries. Lastly, we're talking about a very subtle makeup routine. Just masking and brightening, the stuff actors do, and maybe the faintest of eye makeup. Who knows where all we'll end up, as dysphoria may pop up in places I don't expect, but we're going to work on it together. There will be some things that will cause her a great deal more anxiety than others, so we will avoid them (earrings may be on this list, sadly...). The main hope is that we'll strike on a look that I feel good about (especially in my daily routine, which will feel GREAT), that will make some people pause and wonder. I hope that I'll be asked if I'm gay, occasionally, because that will mean that enough of my real self is shining through as to be recognized.
So we'll see how it goes.
Back to my Mom though. My wife decided that there was no point in forestalling the first step, as she'd just get more and more anxious as days ticked by. So I called last night. I hoped that both of them would be around. Certainly they deserve to be able to grapple with it together. But my Dad is on a business trip at the moment. I talked briefly to my wife, and she said, just do it. So I did.
"What do you know about transgenderism?..."
The first thirty minutes were very good. She was shocked, naturally, and had a huge surge of compassion; wondering how I'd managed to survive it all, etc... I talked about my childhood, and the science of it (brain differentiation and all). Her mind started catching up with her emotions at some point, however, and one by one, her defense mechanisms whirred into action. How wonderfully attentive to distress our minds are! Thankfully, even after another hour, her opposition was not as bad as it could be. She naturally feels threatened by me telling other people, and would rather a very VERY small circle ever know (like, herself, her husband, and that's it). There is a real concern that her other daughter, my wife's sister (mostly because of her husband) would deny our family, or at the very least, myself, any access to our niece and nephews. Can't have me corrupting their sons, after all. I hear it's contagious... So yes, joking aside, she's concerned, as she should be, that my "problem" will hurt the family... and it probably will...
She finished by desperately asking that I don't talk to my Dad immediately. She seems to know something about his likely reaction... He is a very respectable man, by the way, in whom I have the highest regard. Religious, and extremely loving, which tends to go hand in hand with those who actually live as Jesus suggested, rather than just hammering on those who don't. Part of what has made him such a great person is his dedication to his family, and willingness to tough it out for anyone under who has found themselves sheltered by his arm, related or not. A man's job is to take care of his family, no matter what the cost, and no matter what his wayward heart my tell or ask of him. (Can you see where this is going?) Furthermore, he respects me, and will absolutely tell me the truth, if I am going to hurt myself or other people. He was the only one who was tough enough to keep me in college, for instance. So his advice is going to sting an awful lot, I'm afraid. Partly because he, like most others, will not see me clearly for quite some time, and partly because I myself have already told myself those things. I know what my responsibilities are, and I will keep my promises to my wife and children. I suffer excessively in knowing that I have not been strong enough to keep this all locked up inside. I wish I could just bear it, but my life has shown me that I cannot.
In humility, I have to admit that I cannot maintain my role as a man by myself anymore. I hope that I'm a girl who's made out of strong stuff; courage and resolve, patience in affliction, and all those qualities I so admire in my heroines and role models... So he will be right. I "should" have been strong enough to deal with it all... but I am not (and that is not how God made me, it seems).
So we will see. I hope that our imminent trip down to see them (in a few weeks) will help alleviate some of their fears. I am as I have always been; my personality is authentic. I hope that seeing me play with the kids and talk and love as I always have will help them see that I am neither a freak, nor psychologically deranged. Lots of hopes...
Finally, a very positive note that has made me smile. Why end on a downer, after all? My mother-in-law, having heard my story, started thinking out loud. "So many pieces are starting to make sense." I asked her what kinds of things were coming to mind. "Well, there are quite a few... but for instance, you've always had a way of flowing into the room, like when you are coming to get the kids, and so many of your mannerisms are so very soft and gentle... I've always noticed that about you"
=) See, I really am buried inside this XY flesh somewhere! I didn't know that I could be "flowing" in anything... always been sort of clumsy, I thought. Well done, female brain!
So yeah, I came out to my Mom last night. My wife and I have been talking at length these last months and we've finally struck on a compromise that may work for us. Transitioning to a female body and lifestyle is too much for her, and would be, at best, harmful to our children. Its sad that society would be so happy to emotionally beat them for having a loving, but trans parent, but that would be the case, nonetheless. However, as most trans folks know, living as the wrong, biologically enforced gender forever is also extremely harmful. I feel like I'm bottling up the acid and poison of the world's hate for me and soaking my heart in it; hoping in vain that by staying secret, I'm helping someone. But that very real hatred tears and shreds the soul, and my heart's endurance is failing...
Neither can I change to a woman, nor can I live as a man. In one way or the other, I am neither.
My wife put it this way. She cannot probably survive the social and familial upheaval of a transition, and could not sleep but in tears next to a fem-styled man whom she once was attracted to. But at the same time, she cannot be the jailer for someone she loves so dearly. She cannot bear the pain and misery of her companion's shackled life, knowing that she holds a key to her female husband's freedom. Yet using that key will slay her.
So it seemed we were at an impasse, and that's not a place we are willing to be. It has begun to look like we needed to start helping each other dig some other tunnel out of this cell.
What we've decided is that, first of all, I need to be out. I cannot carry the secret between just herself and I any more than she can, because we will always have very real, legitimate, but unfortunately opposed desires. I need to be able to tell my family and friends who I am. We all long to be known and loved, and though in my case, being known means shocking a lot of people, it is the same basic desire of every human heart. "Please know me. Please love me." Not everyone will, of course, but that too is a reality that all humans face, whether they are so fortunate to be cis- or not.
Secondly, we are going to explore how I might start a slow process of presenting in an androgenous way. I thank all the "metrosexual" style folks for opening some doors for more feminine looks for men. I also thank the courage of the gay community for forcing the issue of looks on the world: it seems they may have bought me an opportunity.
We're still working through the beginning details, and for her sake, we are going to be extremely slow and self-evaluating in the whole deal. I'm growing out my hair, and finally (FINALLY!) going to be able to shave off all the rest. I'll use girl deodorant and all those fun things that nobody will notice anyway. That's the start, but its all still invisible to all but ourselves. Next will be a very slow (spelled: budget) change in my wardrobe. Not sure how to go here, but again, looking for close-fitting, sometimes mens' styles that help me look and feel more girly, without crossing too many social boundaries. Lastly, we're talking about a very subtle makeup routine. Just masking and brightening, the stuff actors do, and maybe the faintest of eye makeup. Who knows where all we'll end up, as dysphoria may pop up in places I don't expect, but we're going to work on it together. There will be some things that will cause her a great deal more anxiety than others, so we will avoid them (earrings may be on this list, sadly...). The main hope is that we'll strike on a look that I feel good about (especially in my daily routine, which will feel GREAT), that will make some people pause and wonder. I hope that I'll be asked if I'm gay, occasionally, because that will mean that enough of my real self is shining through as to be recognized.
So we'll see how it goes.
Back to my Mom though. My wife decided that there was no point in forestalling the first step, as she'd just get more and more anxious as days ticked by. So I called last night. I hoped that both of them would be around. Certainly they deserve to be able to grapple with it together. But my Dad is on a business trip at the moment. I talked briefly to my wife, and she said, just do it. So I did.
"What do you know about transgenderism?..."
The first thirty minutes were very good. She was shocked, naturally, and had a huge surge of compassion; wondering how I'd managed to survive it all, etc... I talked about my childhood, and the science of it (brain differentiation and all). Her mind started catching up with her emotions at some point, however, and one by one, her defense mechanisms whirred into action. How wonderfully attentive to distress our minds are! Thankfully, even after another hour, her opposition was not as bad as it could be. She naturally feels threatened by me telling other people, and would rather a very VERY small circle ever know (like, herself, her husband, and that's it). There is a real concern that her other daughter, my wife's sister (mostly because of her husband) would deny our family, or at the very least, myself, any access to our niece and nephews. Can't have me corrupting their sons, after all. I hear it's contagious... So yes, joking aside, she's concerned, as she should be, that my "problem" will hurt the family... and it probably will...
She finished by desperately asking that I don't talk to my Dad immediately. She seems to know something about his likely reaction... He is a very respectable man, by the way, in whom I have the highest regard. Religious, and extremely loving, which tends to go hand in hand with those who actually live as Jesus suggested, rather than just hammering on those who don't. Part of what has made him such a great person is his dedication to his family, and willingness to tough it out for anyone under who has found themselves sheltered by his arm, related or not. A man's job is to take care of his family, no matter what the cost, and no matter what his wayward heart my tell or ask of him. (Can you see where this is going?) Furthermore, he respects me, and will absolutely tell me the truth, if I am going to hurt myself or other people. He was the only one who was tough enough to keep me in college, for instance. So his advice is going to sting an awful lot, I'm afraid. Partly because he, like most others, will not see me clearly for quite some time, and partly because I myself have already told myself those things. I know what my responsibilities are, and I will keep my promises to my wife and children. I suffer excessively in knowing that I have not been strong enough to keep this all locked up inside. I wish I could just bear it, but my life has shown me that I cannot.
In humility, I have to admit that I cannot maintain my role as a man by myself anymore. I hope that I'm a girl who's made out of strong stuff; courage and resolve, patience in affliction, and all those qualities I so admire in my heroines and role models... So he will be right. I "should" have been strong enough to deal with it all... but I am not (and that is not how God made me, it seems).
So we will see. I hope that our imminent trip down to see them (in a few weeks) will help alleviate some of their fears. I am as I have always been; my personality is authentic. I hope that seeing me play with the kids and talk and love as I always have will help them see that I am neither a freak, nor psychologically deranged. Lots of hopes...
Finally, a very positive note that has made me smile. Why end on a downer, after all? My mother-in-law, having heard my story, started thinking out loud. "So many pieces are starting to make sense." I asked her what kinds of things were coming to mind. "Well, there are quite a few... but for instance, you've always had a way of flowing into the room, like when you are coming to get the kids, and so many of your mannerisms are so very soft and gentle... I've always noticed that about you"
=) See, I really am buried inside this XY flesh somewhere! I didn't know that I could be "flowing" in anything... always been sort of clumsy, I thought. Well done, female brain!
Tuesday, November 13, 2012
Choices and Chocolate
My wife and I have been talking a lot about our possible courses of actions. (Crying more than talking, sometimes.) There is a lot of future ahead of us, which, being a team, we want very much to work together toward the best version of it. But right smack in the way of our view, is my femininity. We both want to plan and dream; raise our kids, be great parents, build memories, serve our community and world... but there I am, with a giant question-mark casting its long shadow.
We both feel that we are in each other's way. She doesn't know how to approach life with a female partner (and all the ugly family dimensions that would bring). I don't know how to approach life as a man, even with the decades of experience. I feel so tired of the charade. So both of us feel like we cannot succeed in doing the thing we'd like for each other. I'd love to bottle it all up and not let that hammer fall on her. She'd love to press the "Freedom" button and not keep me locked in the emotional wasteland... but neither of us feel like we are able... neither of us feel like we could manage...
So here we are, our own best friend's biggest hurdle. Neither of us have any doubt that we will weather whatever storm fate throws our way, and suggestions of giving up on each other invokes a similarly fierce defence mechanism in us both: we will never let go of each other.. it's what makes us "us."
So here we are, clinging to each other, heart and soul as we plummet into the unknown.
Maybe, at the end of the day, it pays to just sit down with a big bar of chocolate. How else do you get by, sometimes? I don't have a feminine figure to worry about, after all... though now that I think of it, my wife can't eat chocolate... allergy and all... just can't win tonight. ;)
Much Love,
Hailey
We both feel that we are in each other's way. She doesn't know how to approach life with a female partner (and all the ugly family dimensions that would bring). I don't know how to approach life as a man, even with the decades of experience. I feel so tired of the charade. So both of us feel like we cannot succeed in doing the thing we'd like for each other. I'd love to bottle it all up and not let that hammer fall on her. She'd love to press the "Freedom" button and not keep me locked in the emotional wasteland... but neither of us feel like we are able... neither of us feel like we could manage...
So here we are, our own best friend's biggest hurdle. Neither of us have any doubt that we will weather whatever storm fate throws our way, and suggestions of giving up on each other invokes a similarly fierce defence mechanism in us both: we will never let go of each other.. it's what makes us "us."
So here we are, clinging to each other, heart and soul as we plummet into the unknown.
Maybe, at the end of the day, it pays to just sit down with a big bar of chocolate. How else do you get by, sometimes? I don't have a feminine figure to worry about, after all... though now that I think of it, my wife can't eat chocolate... allergy and all... just can't win tonight. ;)
Much Love,
Hailey
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