Cross Dress, Depression, Dysphoria, Emotions, Gender, Gender Identity, Girl Inside, Information, Kira, LGBT, Life, Memories, MtF, Personal, Therapy, Thoughts, Transgender, Transition, Understanding, Work In Progress

A Good Day

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It’s been a long day… in a good way. As in I have been on the run the majority of the daylight hours. It might have started out better though, as my alarm went off at 5:30AM and I then turned it off instead of hitting snooze like I meant to…

In any case, I did manage to get up and going in time to go to an early therapy appointment, at 7:00AM. Seriously… who does business so early? Just kidding, I understood why J needed to schedule me so early and I was fine with it.

Our sessions have been interesting lately because we have been mixing in a lot of general talk with more therapy related things with the subjects ranging all over the place from current events to religion.It certainly keeps me on my toes. Some interesting things came up this time; for one was the question of it is possible for me to find a way to buffer myself when I am reading something which has the effect of setting off my depression to one degree or another, such as the topic of my last big post. In talking about this I realize there aren’t any quick fixes to these situations and maybe there shouldn’t be. Sometimes I need time to process something and find the right answer for me. There are more times than not doing so is going to take a few days, as it did in this last case, but I am in a better place when I finally find an answer. Also, it gives me a better perspective of my own thoughts and feelings and I am better able to discuss things with others.

Speaking of my post and the original by Ali which lead to me writing what I did… We talked about it and I let J read what I had written after talking about what I had read. The discussion lead to what I thought and felt reading that post and the conclusions I had worked out for myself, mainly about being myself, being Kira, 24/7 regardless of what I wear; with or without makeup or a wig. As I told her, my outward appearance, while important for various reasons, has nothing to do with who I am inside my own head.

This lead to some interesting discussions, about how ones outter appearance can often be confusing and lead to someone being mis-gendered regardless of if they are male or female, gay or straight. That lead to something I didn’t expect which was finding out one of J’s daughters, who I have met several times, once asked if I was a boy or a girl. She wasn’t sure of which was correct and she didn’t want offend me by asking. This was without me really doing anything to change my appearance…  All of which lead to another observation which was I cannot know how I am being read by anyone else, nor just what their thoughts might be. Because I cannot judge such things, I tend to be much harder on myself and the way I present than I should be. As A pointed out, we are always harder on ourselves than others are and this is magnified by my situation and insecurities.

I have to remind myself it seems I am presenting as more feminine than I realize. This is an interesting thought as I have been working to undo many of the habits I picked up while in the Navy, to return to more of the way I was before that point in my life. If I have succeeded to any degree, and people are seeing me now in much the same way they did back then, it explains a great many things which happened, and which I heard or was told by others regarding how I was seen by those around me. If this is really the case, then I truly have come a lot further than I ever imagined, which is a pleasant surprise indeed.

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Cross Dress, Experience, Gender, Gender Identity, Girl Inside, Information, Kira, LGBT, Life, MtF, Personal, Questioning, Thoughts, Transgender, Transition, Understanding, Work In Progress

Transgender vs. Crossdressing: A Response

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I follow a number of blogs by other trans people, it helps to read the thoughts of others who are in different places in becoming there true selves. Of course, as with anything so personal, there are things said which I understand and some I do not, there are opinions spoken I agree with or not, but in all things, it makes me think.

Ali Finds Herself is one such blog. She is thoughtful, insightful, and often funny and I find her posts to be interesting and often thought provoking. She recently wrote a post called Transgender vs. Crossdresser which I have been thinking about ever since I first read it a few days ago. I’m not going to recap the whole thing, you really should read it for yourself, but I will paste the last paragraph here because it so important to what I want to say;

“The answer I gave Nancy was this: “I think the line between crossdressing and transgender is when it stops being an event and just starts being normal.” And if I’m being honest with myself, I’m just not there yet. And cue the depressed sigh …”

 

I was bothered quite deeply by this post. It is thoughtful and thought provoking and in many ways spoke to my own struggles in defining myself… it carried the ring of truth on several levels, yet there was something about it and Ali’s conclusion which bothered me for another reason. 

Transitioning is a multifaceted aspect of being Transgender, yet it alone cannot define what it is to be Transgender. It goes beyond Gender Expression, (though it is part of it). It is not just a physical but mental as well. It must, and does include all of the ways a person changes in how they see themselves and the world about them.

Being Transgender is as shallow as your skin and as deep as your heart. 

In many ways I understand the confusion and doubts created when you cannot be yourself full time, when you must parcel out yourself in different packages for different occasions. Just as Ali does, I must maintain a male presence at work and for my children. I must think about everything I do and how it is being seen by those around me and sometimes it gets to be too much. Just as she wishes to be Ali all the time, I too wish I could let the world see Kira all the time, yet I know this just isn’t workable at the moment. The difference between us is how we view ourselves irrespective of outer appearance.

I am Kira full time now. Maybe not in how I walk down the street, but where it real matters in my day to day life… Inside. There isn’t a “him mode” and a “Kira mode”… there is only me behind my eyes. In my thoughts and dreams, in my emotions and opinions, in every way which truly matters to me as a person, I am Kira.

Don’t get me wrong, I would love to be seen as I truly am all of the time, but you know what? In the end it is the same; the world will only ever see the outside, not what’s inside. Not what makes me a human being and not just a body taking up space.

I guess what bothered me so deeply about what I read was the impression I require an external measure of who and what I am… That by making a big deal out of getting dressed up, putting on makeup and a wig; by seeing doing so as a personal adventure to be savored and enjoyed, I am then making a production out of it, turning what should be a normal, everyday event, not requiring any serious thought, into something separate and special, that I am in someway not being true to the “Transgender Ideal.” 

I simply cannot agree with this. Not for myself. Maybe getting “fancied up” is something special for when I have the time and energy, but I am at all times Kira. 

To me, this is what separates me from Crossdressers, they put on a persona. An almost separate identity from themselves, becoming something else while presenting as the opposite gender, yet inside, in their heart of hearts, they are the same person in a different costume. 

For them it as much about the presentation as anything. For myself it is only a outward expression of my inner truth. I do not “become” Kira; I am Kira, and this is just one of the ways I express myself.

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Bigender, Cross Dress, Dysphoria, Emotions, Gender, Genderqueer, Kira, Life, Mtf, Pain, Personal, Thoughts, Transgender

Rest In Peace

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There are times when I wish it was easier to express emotions through writing. I know of course this is something which is done every day… great writers seem to invoke a powerful response with just a few well chosen words, but I am not one of them. There are times such as this when I struggle to find the words to express even the smallest part of what I am feeling.

I have spoken of reaching a “low” point. Clearly this does little to express the depth of my thoughts and emotions during some points in my day to day efforts to deal with with things. Maybe I am deliberately glossing over things, trying to make light of what is really something more serious than I am willing to admit even to myself. Then again, there are times I simply don’t want to burden others with my problems. I seem to cause enough problems without deliberately adding to them.

But this once, I would like to try and share some of my thoughts, some of these emotions that have me here, typing all of these words while there are tears in my eyes and an ache in my heart, because, maybe, just maybe, there is someone else who is feeling the same, having the same thoughts, who could use knowing they are not alone in this moment.

I was luck enough to have someone to talk to last night when this was hardest to deal with alone. A friend who was willing to lend me an ear to listen, an arm to lean on when I needed it more than I wanted to admit. I know not everyone has someone like that and I cannot tell you how thankful I am that I do,

More and more, as the days have passed, I have found my thoughts turning to what it would mean to be able to live openly. To be able to go about my day, doing the most mundane of things as myself, being accepted… or just ignored. To walk down the street, to go shopping, to just sitting at the computer without thought of hiding. To be able to simply breath without thinking.  It isn’t about “passing” because such things simply don’t matter any more. 

Last night these thoughts suddenly flared into facing a fear I have managed to sidestep to this point, to down play because I wanted to convince myself it didn’t matter. But it does.

I realized I was afraid of dying without having lived as myself. Of having who I was truly was for ever lost behind a name carved on a piece of rock that wasn’t “my” name. Who would look at it an know the truth it concealed? Who would remember the woman I was? 

I don’t know how to explain what I feel when faced with this possibility. The understanding that one simple twist of fate could erase me in a blink.

There has been so much discussion, so much anger and argument over the issue of “privilege”. So many harsh words exchanged over nothing more than words. Pointless puffs of air no one will remember. Well, this is what privilege looks like… It is knowing if you die, it will be your name on a piece of rock. Your name in the paper. Your name people will remember and speak of. It will be you people think of with love, with fondness, with anger and spite. It will be you as expressed by such a simple thing that will encompass a life lived.

I may never have that.   

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Bigender, Discovery, Dysphoria, Gender, Kira, Life, Mtf, Pangender, Thoughts, Transgender, Two Spirit

Looking For Information, A Place To Start

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I was thinking of a different post for today but I happened across this: http://genderintransitionspring2013.wordpress.com/2013/01/21/transgender-or-genderqueer/

I’m not sure if I completely agree, but it gave me a link to the following: http://www.tgender.net/taw/tsins.html

A discussion of Transgender Health Benefits, which I found to be informative.

The best part is there are many links included.

I hope this provides information for those who are looking for answers. Of course this isn’t all there is to know or understand, but it is a place to start.

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Bigender, Discovery, Emotions, Gender, Kira, Life, Memories, Mtf, Personal, Thoughts, Transgender

And A Girl Saw Her Shadow

I did it, I went to my therapy session 100% as myself …

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I got up this morning and began to prepare, shower, shave, clothes, makeup, hair. As each thing was completed, as each task was checked off my list I had a flutter of nervous energy. Each time I thought to myself, “ I am myself,” and took a breath and relaxed. Before I realized, it was almost time to leave.

 I thought things were going a little too well which was proven by a small glitch… my neighbor and a friend were out working in the driveway. I didn’t know how he might react and I was more than a little nervous thinking I was going to have to go to my vehicle which was parked next to where he was standing. As it turned out it wasn’t an issue because just as it was coming to the time I had to leave, he and the friend left. One bullet dodged. Al week I felt  my biggest hurdle was getting out of my neighborhood. There are some real A holes living around here and I can just imagine the crap they would stir up. Thankfully, no one was really out and about so I quickly found myself on the road. Having an almost half hour commute to the therapist office proved to be rather helpful, I quickly realized I was surrounded by people who couldn’t have cared less about me, it helped to put things into perspective. I was just another woman out on her way to somewhere just like countless others. I was able to settle in and enjoy the sunshine and unseasonably warm weather. 

Arriving at the office turned out to be anticlimactic as my therapist was the only person there, an earlier appointment had cancelled. I have to give her credit though, she didn’t bat an eye when she first saw me and simply complimented me on my outfit. Otherwise it was a pretty straight forward session, her only question was how I was feeling with being out, which I told it I was actually quite comfortable, that no matter how I happen to look, male or female, I am still myself… I just have to remind myself of that from time to time.

There was small thing which threw me for a moment though, and it is something I am sure many have had to face at some point, which was using the restroom. Just outside the suite of offices were the typical Mens / Women’s bathrooms and just as I went to cross the hall I heard a door open and someone walking. I’ll admit I panicked for a moment and returned to the office. It took a little talking to get my nerve back and I returned and used the facility, which had two stalls… and yes, I pretty much held my breath and prayed no one came in, which they didn’t. I was amazed how much this messed with my head. After all, I was presenting as female, so why should I feel this way about using the women’s restroom?

The therapy groups office is part of a larger suite of offices used by a bunch of different companies and is kind of spread out. There are number of hallways and though it was the weekend, I knew there was at least one other person in the building. My therapist convinced me to walk around the whole place with her, which was fun because we just walked and commented on the different companies we found. We didn’t run into anyone else but we did find another set of regular restroom and one gender neutral restroom which she didn’t was there. 

I did tell her I was going to be posting about today and would be including pictures. She told me she thought I looked fine and that I seemed natural and relaxed, something I was very thankful for even she was just being kind. I didn’t make a point of getting out into more public places mostly because I was alone and I think the first time I go someplace where I will have to interact with a number of people I will want to have someone with me.

I do have one more thing to talk about, though it maybe the most difficult. 

While getting ready, two of the boys were home, my oldest had left to be with his friends and I was glad for that, but my middle and youngest were there. It was obvious the youngest didn’t understand what was going on nor did he care. But my middle son was another matter altogether. It was clear he was very uncomfortable seeing me and refused to even look at me. A remarked on how much seeing me was bothering him and I agreed. I know this is going to take time. I know I have to take it slow, one small step at a time… but no matter what I know, it still hurts like hell.

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