From when I wake up in the morning to when I go to bed at night, and often in my dreams, I am aware that I am trans.

Today, I’m 70 years old. After retiring from a 30 year civil service career in a male dominated field (and the years of struggling to find who I was all about), I had no savings but did have a decent retirement fund. I have come to learn just how little I need to live on to be happy!

 

 

Then one night while I was in my typical silent-internal-struggle mode, my wife asked what was wrong. I told her I didn’t want to get into it with her, but she kept pushing, eventually asking what would prove to be a fateful question: “Is it that you want to dress as a woman full-time?”

My first instinct was to deny it, as we both knew that if the answer was yes, it would mean the end of our marriage. But for the first time in my life, I was fully honest with her and with myself. I told her it wasn’t so much what I wanted but where I was feeling driven to go.

It was the first time I faced that fact that I was indeed more than just a cross-dresser and more a transsexual.

The hardest and most difficult part of my coming out was with my daughter. I could deal with losing friends, having family turn on me, the uneasiness of some co-workers, even the impending demise of my marriage. But my daughter was another matter entirely.

The discussion didn’t last long. As I did my best to explain what I felt and what would be happening, my spouse asked if there would be permanent physical changes. When I said yes, she said she couldn’t hear any more... 

Aside from actually admitting the fact that I was transgender, telling her was the single hardest thing I’ve ever done.

Over the next few months, I slowly introduced the increasingly feminine me to her and a few friends, knowing there was a strong possibility people would struggle to make sense of it all. While there were some awkward moments — miss-gendering, not getting my name right — I did my best not to take it personally and was blessed that most people I knew were supportive and accepting.

One doesn’t make this kind of change in a vacuum; the changes I was making affected everyone I knew in some way, none more so than my children.

My relationship with them changed, and for many years, our level of closeness wasn’t the same. A sort of gulf had opened between us. But even that has closed over time as they dealt with their feelings and watched me grow into my truest self.

I’d been living openly as a woman for 12 plus years when I decided I was ready (and had the means) to undergo some gender-reaffirming changes occurring to my body with my hormone usage. I didn’t see this as some kind of end goal for “becoming” a woman — I already was a woman. This was simply one more step in my life.

Over the years, I’ve been asked many times if I’m happy having the time in my life to present and project myself the woman inside of me. And while I can’t say it made me happy in the traditional sense of the word, it did put an end to the internal war I’d fought with myself for so long. It brought me a greater measure of peace. It made me more aware of what others face after experiencing bias, ignorance, and discrimination myself.

I’ve come to accept myself as I am, to no longer worry about how the world sees me. I no longer care as much about whether I’m pretty or attractive, whether I’ve dressed well, or any of the other trappings society expects. I’m much less vain but far more self-assured. I’m more comfortable in my own skin.

Trisha/ 04/09/2020