Journey to Authenticity: An In Depth Glance.
Having written very briefly about my decision to transition, and then glossing over those next few years, it seems fitting to write tonight about those missing years. while you are reading, please keep in mind that revisiting this stuff is painful for me, but I feel like there are some people on the forum that could really benefit from a first-hand account of transitioning. It isn't something that is just done on a whim.
When I first came to terms with my own transgenderism, I hit the ground running. it was an exciting time for me; I finally had an answer to why I hated myself when I looked in the mirror, why I hated the sound of my own name, and why I never quite felt like I belonged. I wanted to tell someone about my revelation, but I knew I couldn't tell my parents just yet, so I called up my best friend. I had known this guy for 18 years, if anyone would understand, it would be this guy. I'll never forget that conversation. When I told him, he was really supportive on the phone and wanted to meet up to have a little celebration. When I met with him, he was totally opposite of himself on the phone, he was irate with me. My 'best friend' of 18 years ended our friendship that day by brutally beating me, telling me I'd come to my senses about it sometime and realize that this wasn't what I wanted. While I was sitting in the emergency room later, I had a lot of time to think about things thanks to Canada's terrible public health care wait times. I realized that I knew now more than ever before that transitioning was something I wanted, nay needed to do, I'd just be doing it with no support from places I thought I could count on. 28 stitches in 3 places later, I was out of the hospital with a renewed vigour for achieving my goal. I visited my friends who had passed away a number of times over the next while, and though I'm agnostic, I like to believe they are still up there looking out for me. My first trip shopping for my new attire drew more harsh words and criticisms, and though they hurt and I cried myself to sleep that night along with many other nights, that first beating from my 'friend' helped me really realize that words only do so much, and they certainly can't send you to the hospital. I continued to see the gender therapist, along with another therapist for my depression, coming out to people as I felt I could. Fast forward to Halloween, the one day a year where you can openly be dressed as a woman and not catch hell for it. Or so I thought. I went out to the bar with a friend who didn't know at the time, that I was transitioning, I was dressed as a classy lady, he was dressed like a big red balloon. We danced, and we drank and we were having a blast keeping to ourselves. Last call comes and we leave the bar and go our own separate ways home. It turns out that a group of guys had decided that I was grossing them out, so they followed me for three blocks before viciously beating me like I had never been beaten before. After another trip to the hospital, and plenty more stitches, some glue and a once again correctly positioned nose, I went home, defeated.
Wow.. That brought back powerful memories, I'm sorry guys, knowing what I still need to write, that is all I care to remember about that part of my life. Let's jump forward now.
Armed with my new attire, and with helpful words from the two therapists I was seeing, I began to live full time as a woman. Any thoughts I had about the hell I had already been through, paled in comparison to the hell I faced during my RLE. Luckily the endocrinologist I saw was lenient and didn't make me go through a long period of RLE before consenting to the HRT. There are no words to describe accurately how it feels to go through RLE. Although I felt comfortable with myself now, I hated having to leave the house for any reason. People are so quick to cut you down to size when you appear out of the ordinary. Even trying to walk my dog was terrible, but at least with him at my side, people stuck to name calling and refrained from violence. This was all happening in the new town I moved to after escaping my home town. The time I spent doing RLE was, well, character building I guess, to say the least. Not a day went by where I wasn't called almost every name in the book, and if I was lucky, I'd make it a week without getting beaten up by some 'outstanding citizen' who was 'protecting the sanctity of his neighbourhood.'
Guh. I apologize to anyone who is reading this, looks like I'm going to have to try again tomorrow. I just can't continue tonight, it's all so overwhelming.