(en)gender

In the Femme Fever group, Karen asked crossdressers to write something about crossdressing, and asked transsexuals to comment on their own decisions to transition. One of the first responses was this articulate piece by a transsexual who for many years identified as a crossdresser. I thought its reverse chronology helped illuminate how someone who has crossdressed for years realizes their transsexualism. Thanks to Diana for her permission to share it.
For about the first forty-years of life, I thought of myself as a crossdresser. Opportunities to dress were extremely infrequent. When an occasion did arise, I was tremendously disheartened when my appearance didn’t come anywhere close to what I both wanted and expected. Purging would then be an immediate action. “That’s it,” I’d tell myself. “This is crazy–I’m crazy–never again will I give-in to this idiotic fantasy!”
But, as the years passed, I continued the buy-dress-purge cycle. Might still be doing that had I not changed jobs. My new employer was very big on training. Their “academy” is located in America’s heartland–far from where I lived in New York. Since training classes can run anywhere from two-weeks to three-months in length, there was lotsa time spent away from home–away from my wife, kids, and all the other responsibilities that seemed to complicate crossdressing.
Although I would have denied it, in retrospect, my “crossdressing” behaviors became very much a compulsion. From 7:30 a.m. to 4 p.m., on Mondays through Fridays, I was just another of the thousand (or so) students attending various “academy” training classes. At all other moments I was “Diana.” Over time, I became better at achieving a more acceptable (to me) appearance. After a while, I began going out to clubs. One probably wouldn’t expect a well-developed gay community in what’s definitely Bible Belt country, but there were places to go seven-nights-a-week. The club scene was hopping–and I was a VERY active participant.
After a couple of years, I became aware of some rather (at that time) unsettling facts: It was getting harder and harder to go back to the male appearance. I also realized that happiness only existed when I was “Diana.” As a women there was (and still is) a comfort and self-satisfaction. That just did not happen when I was in “male” mode.
The actual turning point occurred somewhere around the year 1999. My class was ending but I didn’t wanna go back home. Lied to my spouse and told her that they’d added another two-week course. The “male” me didn’t make a single appearance during those two weeks. Finally, there was no other choice but to start driving back home. This time, though, instead of leaving all of Diana’s things in a storage facility, they were either packed in my car or shipped via U.P.S. to my home address. Although my spouse was aware of the “crossdressing,” she didn’t have a clue that it’d become much more than simply a part-time activity.
I remained “Diana” for the first four days of the cross-country drive. At a motel, about a day distant from my home, I sadly undressed, removed the acrylic fingernails, and promised myself that, one day, “Diana” would reappear as her true self–never again to be relegated to suitcases and packing boxes.
Fulfilling that promise turned out to be the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. (Y’all are just gonna hafta wait for my book to learn the details.)
The decision to transition has affected me on the inside in many ways–some expected and some that I never could have predicted. Most significantly, is a sense of serenity that says all’s right in my world. I’ve now come to realize that pretending to be someone who I really wasn’t–and living-up to society’s expectations for that person–took a tremendous amount of effort. Today, being myself is virtually effortless. Please don’t misunderstand that statement. I strive to be feminine, and this does indeed require quite a bit of effort. Yet, it’s an effort which is in-accord with how I truly see myself. In the past, I worked to achieve something that was totally at-odds with my real inner-self. The difference between these two, types of effort is absolutely amazing. Achieving my feminine best invigorates; working at trying to be a male took everything I had–leaving me physically and psychologically drained.
Because I decided to follow the S.O.C., my journey included countless sessions with gender therapists. This process helped to refine not only my perceptions of self, but it also brought about changes in how I felt about those with whom I share this world. A biggie here revolves around my new ability not to take the slightest degree of ownership in any “problems” others may have with me. That’s critical during the transition–and pretty neat thereafter. Alas, there are always going to be those who view the entire transgender community as subjects worthy of ridicule and abasement. This is also sometimes/often true when it comes to our families. Buying into such “problems” held by others–including family–has derailed any number of transition plans.
Another thing I learned during therapy was that it’s perfectly acceptable to think of myself in a positive light. I’m not a bad person–although I useta believe otherwise–and it’s quite healthy to focus on assets. Of course, one should also be aware of the not-so-good stuff if there’s to be any degree of self-improvement.
In preparing for transitioning I needed to squarely address the issue of guilt. It took a good year before I could “talk the talk,” and almost another year until I was able to also “walk the walk.” In other words, I learned to accept that guilt can not exist when being transgendered is totally beyond one’s ability to control. This ties directly to self-acceptance. The transitioning process is very much one in which we must come-to-terms with the “who” and “what” of our essential being. I accept that “who” and “what” without qualifications.
It’s said that when someone transitions, the inner person doesn’t change. Although my basic tenets and ethos are still firmly in-place, I have indeed changed. Mostly, however, those changes have resulted from the new-found freedom to be myself, 24/7, without any pretense or other constraints arising from unrealistic attempts at conforming to society’s expectation(s) for a man. I’m plainly a woman and, as such, there’s absolutely no expectation(s) that I act otherwise. Hooray!