I struggled with being transgender for years, that is true, but I always kinda knew how different I was. While lack of information was the real culprit, that combination of being transgender and not knowing it was even a valid life option lead to me dealing with who I was, affected who I was, in many ways.
The thing that made it difficult for me to see the truth about myself was that to me, I was "just me". I don't mean that in some cute way, I mean I was just a kid being a kid, like all kids. When I became a teenager and started to become self conscious, like all teenagers do, I realized I had this part about me that didn't fit what was "ok" for a boy to feel like.
Because we we all taught that as young as possible, aren't we? What makes a "good" and "bad" boy/girl/person? From the fire fighter who's a hero and helps people to the kid who's a bully and teases people. I can't say I remember how, but somewhere in my life I learned that boys were not allowed to be like girls. That boys that liked feminine things were perverts and men that liked feminine things were either gay or disgusting (those two words at the time only just starting to not be synonymous).
So what was I?
I know one thing I was, I was lucky. I was lucky that I was born stubborn and confident. For the majority of my teen years I struggled daily with this idea, "I'm a good person, why do I have all of these "bad" feelings, wants and desires?"
I remember being in a girlfriends bedroom, or any females room for whatever reason and I would feel like my world was closing in on me. I wanted to look at everything, I wanted to get some sense of what it felt like to live as a girl at the same time I would be inches away from my horrible secret that it would kill me if anyone found out. I didn't really realize what I was doing, to be honest. There was just something that drew me to these things and living like it that made me feel comfortable. I was just "being me" as before, but now that "me" had a label on it, one that made me hate myself.
In bed after days like these, or similar ones, more often than not I would cry myself to sleep. I'd be asking myself that question, "Why do I feel like this? Only 'bad' people feel like this." I would hate myself for feeling that way, and I mean hate. Hate that manifested itself in everything from cutting myself to year long depression. I would see a girl and think she was beautiful, and instead of imagining feeling her body against mine, I'd imagine what it would feel like to have that body. After realizing what I was feeling, and not being able to deal with it internally, I didn't know what else to do. I wasn't a bad kid, I didn't get into trouble, I didn't drink or be out late or whatever. I think cutting myself with something was the best thing I could come up with that wasn't hurting anyone else and besides, it was to this body that didn't really feel like mine anyway.
That is something else that is a result of being transgender for me. I was never really attached to my body... I'm not sure how else to say it. All of my life the idea of something happening to my genitals didn't really bother me. My body just felt like a box carrying "me" around. This happened later in my life than my teen years, maybe it started in my late teens. I started to gain weight in my early twenties. I was a very healthy and in shape teen, athletic. What happened was I started to gain weight almost at the same time I started to find language to put my feelings into terms that were real. I distinctly remember looking at myself in the mirror after gaining weight and thinking "hey, now I look like I have a hips like a woman." I was pretty pleased with myself. I was wrong, I looked awful, but I saw what I wanted to.
Later in life after allowing myself to buy and wear some female clothing again I realized women's lingerie was not meant to go on a man my size. I told everyone my motivation was seeing the built men on "300" but the truth is it was because I wanted to look good in lingerie. What happened at the same time however was a crushing quasi-relationship that had me hating myself even more and blaming it on this "sick person" I am. So I decided to never go there again, and kept up with the exercising and losing weight until I was too thin. I think I could have been anorexic for a while. Another trait passed on to me from being transgender is listening to what others say about me, and after hearing several people give me the "Uh, you aren't fat at all. In fact you're too thin." talk I started to be sensible about it.
The point I'm trying to make here is being transgender has been hard on my body.
The part that really gets to me when I stop to think about it is how being transgender has affected my mind. Not just my thoughts, and feelings, but my very essence, my beliefs, my desires, my self image. I have lived my life questioning everything about me, a self-doubt that is pervasive throughout everything in my life, everything that makes up me. Questions that the outside world will happily, quickly, and with zero conscious and empathy give you their answers to. I'm not sure if it is fair to say this is true about all trans people, but for me growing up as a transwoman was traumatic. Something that only recent talks with my therapist has me thinking about. Again, to me I was just "being me" going through life, taking and dealing with things like I assumed we all do.
However, like any trauma victim it has left deep scars on who I am that are so much a part of me that I have no idea when they are influencing my life and decisions now. Feeling like no one could ever love me, which is progress from no one SHOULD love me, or feeling like I am my own best company which works out because I also feel like no one wants my company. Having no sense of "self" or who you are because I, until relatively recently never was who I am.
There are other things that being transgender has created in me that are neither horrible, or joyous. Being self reflective was something that was forced on to me. It started from what I mentioned earlier, how I had that one question always in my mind, "I'm a good person, why do I feel "bad" things?". I picked apart everything I did. Every. Little. Thing. Especially anything that had to do with a moral or ethical choice. I had to make sure I was correct, that I wasn't a bad person. It was possible I thought I was good but I actually wasn't. I had read enough to know of the villain who believes he is right in his doings. The time up until reaching the conclusion that I am indeed a rather "good" person was very hard. This was my massive depressive stage. After my depression I started to realize that regardless of what people may think of the OTHER stuff going on in my head, I'm still a good person.
This lead me to another frame of mind that is intrinsic in me now as well. How open minded I am, particularly sexually, or sexuality. After realizing I was a good person even though I felt the way some of the "worst" (read perverted, really) people in the world felt I couldn't help but think that I must not be the only one. I started seeing people in a very different light. I started to see individual struggles. How the people with the worst ones tend to be the most quiet, and how, like me, they have a hard time accepting help. I developed an empathy or these sort of people, something I think my friends picked up on, as I have mentioned before. A part of me wishes I choose a career path that would have lead to me helping those people but I had other things on my mind.
There is a point to this whole post. Yesterday I took a picture of myself. (wtf does all of this have to do with a picture, I know.) This picture is of me with no makeup. I took this picture and posted it to facebook and immediately contacted the few friends I have to take a look, even called my parents. People don't seem to understand what this picture means to me. For the first time in my life, I didn't feel like I was faking being a woman. Right or wrong there is a part of me that gets utterly disgusted when I try to look feminine and when I look in the mirror all I see is a crossdresser, basically. (No offense CD's out there). This time though, I came out of the bathroom and walked in front of my full length mirror and had to stop and go back to it to look some more. I couldn't get over how feminine I looked while totally naked, makeup and all.
That changed my entire outlook instantly. It has been so powerful that I could feel my state of mind, emotions, self awareness, sexuality, and more starting to shift all day yesterday. To see a genuine woman looking back at me in the mirror is finally allowing me to feel like a genuine woman in general. My body is beginning to feel like mine now, like it never did before. I'll admit to being a little "catch phrase-y" in the past when describing how significant things have been but this time I'm not sure what to say. I feel like my whole being has started to change. It's hard to imagine such an impact coming from such a simple thing. A picture that, admittedly, doesn't make me look gorgeous, but does make me look decidedly female, and with no make up, no "faking it".
The change is real though, I actually feel like a woman, I am now able to picture myself doing things, like typing on this computer, and see the woman I always felt I was. What is changing is many of the things I started talking about on this post. My self worth especially. I'm starting to feel attractive, desirable even. I'm starting to feel power in my femininity.... power. Imagine?
I feel like I'm running out of ways to articulate myself now so what I will do is leave you with said picture. I barely stop looking at it, I can't believe that is me in the picture. Anyway, take care everyone.
You are beautiful Rebecca, don't go outside your walls to seek confirmation, it's apparent in this picture. Thank you for the wonderful story and the picture...
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