From a forum post on Feb 9, 2008.
We know that there is most likely an area of the brain responsible for the sensation (perception) of gender identity. However we haven't figured out yet where it is located or how it is encoded (or even more specifically, where we can poke at it in a monkey and generalize it to we humans).
But because I DO believe it is there, I think that our GID is much more likely the result of a malfunctioning "gender identity brain center" than a malformed body. This would make it a mental birth defect - same as schizophrenia or countless others. Of course, just because it exists biologically doesn't mean that is how it is triggered. If it had a biological base and an environmental trigger (again like schizophrenia) that could explain the "late-comers" you might say.
Regardless if it is a problem in the mind or a problem in the body right now there isn't a whole heck of a lot you can do about it. Learn to live with the discomfort or transition (or something in between). If I am correct, perhaps once we have traumatized enough chimps and rhesus monkeys we will discover where we gain our concept of gender identity and will be able to have it modified.
The next question is though, who would want that modification? I think for some being "transgendered" has become so central to their identity (what with all the time being so focused on it) that it might be hard to let go - like they had all that pain for nothing.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Wednesday, March 4, 2009
Spiritual Points from a Fast
During my most recent fast undertaken for the sake of our brothers and sisters who struggle with GID, my stake, as well as the rest in Texas, Oklahoma, and New Mexico had a stake conference consisting of a Sunday broadcast from church general authorities. Having been fasting, and considering the subject of the fasting, I was overly receptive to the Spirit and wanted to share a few points, in no particular order from the conference. I will divide these among multiple posts so that one thread does not become too bogged down with conversation and so I needn't write an exceedingly long post before getting everyone thinking.
1) Challenges provide us with defining moments. How will we allow challenges to define the remainder of our lives?
We as people with GID, have a very specific type of challenge, and certainly one that will test our mettle as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. With the little revealed doctrine, largely Spirit-directed local brethren making decisions concerning us, and the only known "cure" being largely misunderstood and perhaps even detrimental to some of us, it can certainly seem like a real walk of faith. I myself have had these defining moments. After having transitioned successfully for nearly 2 years and after a lifetime of longing, the Lord gave me an opportunity, through a meeting with one of these bewildered church local authorities, to either follow His counsel given through this bishop, or to show that I will walk in my own paths. I chose the former, and so made a choice that would define my faith as well as the direction I would take the rest of my life. I've been called strong before, but I do not know if it is as much strength as much as it is practice. I had practiced, previous to that time, for years, dedicatedly following the Lord and the counsel of the brethren. In fact, I only left the church when I felt there was no personal revelation opposing it. So, once I again received personal revelation, I was still in practice of doing as the Lord commanded me. That doesn't mean it was easy, but I had prepared myself before having to make such a difficult choice of consistently choosing the Lord, which made the decision to follow Him once again far more appealing.
2) Job did not turn against God. Despite our afflictions we must not "curse God and die."
"You are not yet as Job." This trite phrase tends to offer little in the way of comfort to me personally, though I do understand the point. We can only understand suffering to the capacity to which we have suffered with only limited glimpses of suffering beyond our experiences. However we can still place ourselves in the place of Job in his story, believing our temptations and sufferings to be beyond that of others, perhaps even the worst they can be. Being able to do this should allow us to look at what Job did. Despite his afflictions and counsel from his family and friends, Job decided he would not curse God, or as I like to see it, blame God maliciously. So even if we are as Job, shouldn't we realize that by following his example, we too will receive more than we can imagine if we will remain faithful to the Lord. I know for many of us, the pressures seem overwhelming to "curse God and die" and in fact many of those in our situation have. The wonder of it is, would have it not been better, regardless of what decision you make concerning how you deal with your condition, to keep the Lord in your life? At least then you retain the potential companionship of the Holy Ghost to direct you on your paths.
3) Peace only comes to us when we can see the complete plan of God. We should focus more on spiritual things than temporal things.
Truly this is an important point for us as individuals we GID we tend to be overly focused on temporal things. Our GID disrupts daily normal living and can cause us consistent pain. We know however, at least intellectually that focusing on hope, on our Savior, serving others, and the Gospel plan will help to act as a buffer against those specific pains we feel, we still have a great tendency to ignore them in favor of a way to stop the pain here and now. While temporal things are very important, they are not the only important thing, and as we spend more and more time focused on the temporal things of the world and less on the spiritual things, we will become weakened to fight against our ailments and come more and more to rely on the 'arm of the flesh' - a state that we should seek to avoid if we will ever truly be able to combat our condition. What does it mean to focus on spiritual things? Keeping up with those spiritual activities the prophets have encouraged us to do for years and years - prayer, regular church attendance, paying tithing, fasting, attending the temple and fulfilling the three fold mission of the church, and very importantly, service! Devoting time to these things will certainly give us an opportunity to be more open to the spirit of the Lord and show Him our devotion to allowing Him to help us carry our burdens so we needn't rely upon only ourselves - a path that will assuredly fail.
4) We must not worship idols.
To those who have been a part of the TS community at large can see the idol worship so common among us with GID. We worship at the altar of transsexualism before the great idol of our other-sexed image - a version of self worship. This transsexual religion has a hell, and it is staying our birth sex with the dysphoria that brings, so we turn our eyes and our hearts to the almighty image of ourselves as the other sex, and sacrifice much to its name. Now I am not saying that transition is wrong or couldn't be a needed correction for some, but I am saying that we must not become overly focused on self worship. We must keep our perspective as Latter-day saints. Remember who the true giver of peace is - not the surgeon, but our Savior - not the hormones, but the Atonement. These things bring true happiness in this world and in the next. Regardless of what actions we take to relieve our symptoms of GID, we must keep our perspective on the Savior and the Gospel plan so that we can be assured we are drawing our strength from a source that will not fail us.
More points to come.
1) Challenges provide us with defining moments. How will we allow challenges to define the remainder of our lives?
We as people with GID, have a very specific type of challenge, and certainly one that will test our mettle as members of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. With the little revealed doctrine, largely Spirit-directed local brethren making decisions concerning us, and the only known "cure" being largely misunderstood and perhaps even detrimental to some of us, it can certainly seem like a real walk of faith. I myself have had these defining moments. After having transitioned successfully for nearly 2 years and after a lifetime of longing, the Lord gave me an opportunity, through a meeting with one of these bewildered church local authorities, to either follow His counsel given through this bishop, or to show that I will walk in my own paths. I chose the former, and so made a choice that would define my faith as well as the direction I would take the rest of my life. I've been called strong before, but I do not know if it is as much strength as much as it is practice. I had practiced, previous to that time, for years, dedicatedly following the Lord and the counsel of the brethren. In fact, I only left the church when I felt there was no personal revelation opposing it. So, once I again received personal revelation, I was still in practice of doing as the Lord commanded me. That doesn't mean it was easy, but I had prepared myself before having to make such a difficult choice of consistently choosing the Lord, which made the decision to follow Him once again far more appealing.
2) Job did not turn against God. Despite our afflictions we must not "curse God and die."
"You are not yet as Job." This trite phrase tends to offer little in the way of comfort to me personally, though I do understand the point. We can only understand suffering to the capacity to which we have suffered with only limited glimpses of suffering beyond our experiences. However we can still place ourselves in the place of Job in his story, believing our temptations and sufferings to be beyond that of others, perhaps even the worst they can be. Being able to do this should allow us to look at what Job did. Despite his afflictions and counsel from his family and friends, Job decided he would not curse God, or as I like to see it, blame God maliciously. So even if we are as Job, shouldn't we realize that by following his example, we too will receive more than we can imagine if we will remain faithful to the Lord. I know for many of us, the pressures seem overwhelming to "curse God and die" and in fact many of those in our situation have. The wonder of it is, would have it not been better, regardless of what decision you make concerning how you deal with your condition, to keep the Lord in your life? At least then you retain the potential companionship of the Holy Ghost to direct you on your paths.
3) Peace only comes to us when we can see the complete plan of God. We should focus more on spiritual things than temporal things.
Truly this is an important point for us as individuals we GID we tend to be overly focused on temporal things. Our GID disrupts daily normal living and can cause us consistent pain. We know however, at least intellectually that focusing on hope, on our Savior, serving others, and the Gospel plan will help to act as a buffer against those specific pains we feel, we still have a great tendency to ignore them in favor of a way to stop the pain here and now. While temporal things are very important, they are not the only important thing, and as we spend more and more time focused on the temporal things of the world and less on the spiritual things, we will become weakened to fight against our ailments and come more and more to rely on the 'arm of the flesh' - a state that we should seek to avoid if we will ever truly be able to combat our condition. What does it mean to focus on spiritual things? Keeping up with those spiritual activities the prophets have encouraged us to do for years and years - prayer, regular church attendance, paying tithing, fasting, attending the temple and fulfilling the three fold mission of the church, and very importantly, service! Devoting time to these things will certainly give us an opportunity to be more open to the spirit of the Lord and show Him our devotion to allowing Him to help us carry our burdens so we needn't rely upon only ourselves - a path that will assuredly fail.
4) We must not worship idols.
To those who have been a part of the TS community at large can see the idol worship so common among us with GID. We worship at the altar of transsexualism before the great idol of our other-sexed image - a version of self worship. This transsexual religion has a hell, and it is staying our birth sex with the dysphoria that brings, so we turn our eyes and our hearts to the almighty image of ourselves as the other sex, and sacrifice much to its name. Now I am not saying that transition is wrong or couldn't be a needed correction for some, but I am saying that we must not become overly focused on self worship. We must keep our perspective as Latter-day saints. Remember who the true giver of peace is - not the surgeon, but our Savior - not the hormones, but the Atonement. These things bring true happiness in this world and in the next. Regardless of what actions we take to relieve our symptoms of GID, we must keep our perspective on the Savior and the Gospel plan so that we can be assured we are drawing our strength from a source that will not fail us.
More points to come.
Acculturation
Acculturation - cultural modification of an individual, group, or
people by adapting to or borrowing traits from another culture ;
also : a merging of cultures as a result of prolonged contact
evidence for this in both my life and the lives of other
transsexuals. Perhaps if, from an early age, we were not so compelled
to adjust our cultures' from female to male, our GID would not grow to
the significance it does later in life after a lifetime of mal-
adaptive behaviors. Now this might not apply to all proclaimed
transsexuals because some of them claim that they have always been
women and refuse to accept any environmental influences or factors
that may have affected their GID. I on the other hand believe in a
very powerful cultural and environmental influence that leads to GID
over-expressing itself regardless of its potential biological roots.
This acculturation theory seems to lend support to my ideas.
people by adapting to or borrowing traits from another culture ;
also : a merging of cultures as a result of prolonged contact
I was studying about this concept today for my Abnormal Psychology
class. Essentially studies have shown that first generation Americans
from minority cultures such as Mexico that too strongly acculturate,
or in other words, adapt their native culture to that of the new
majority culture suffer from extremely higher rates of depression and
other mal-adaptive stress disorders.
Those individuals who maintain their original culture or become bi-
cultural (adapting to the new culture without losing their identity
with the original culture and its expectations), tend to be far better
adjusted living in the new culture.
Now consider this with me for a second.
Consider that being male and being female is like being in two
separate cultures. There is an identifiable male culture and specific
expectations as well as an identifiable female culture.
Say you are from one of these two cultures, but try to acculturate to
the other completely. Obviously, if the analogy holds, you would
potentially have an increased rate of depression and other mal-
adaptive stress disorders. Say however, that you do not give up your
original culture while living in the new culture. You have a far
better chance then to adjust to living healthily.
So to be blunt, those of us who are bio-males but identify as female
cultured, suffer from higher rates of depression when we attempt to
embrace male culture as we are expected to, but those who maintain
their original female culture while living as males, have a far better
chance to be healthy.
evidence for this in both my life and the lives of other
transsexuals. Perhaps if, from an early age, we were not so compelled
to adjust our cultures' from female to male, our GID would not grow to
the significance it does later in life after a lifetime of mal-
adaptive behaviors. Now this might not apply to all proclaimed
transsexuals because some of them claim that they have always been
women and refuse to accept any environmental influences or factors
that may have affected their GID. I on the other hand believe in a
very powerful cultural and environmental influence that leads to GID
over-expressing itself regardless of its potential biological roots.
This acculturation theory seems to lend support to my ideas.
Androgyny
The following was posted to a blog on 11-3-08:
This has been an increasingly revealing time in my life. Since the sudden and dramatic return of my cross gender feelings that prompted the creation of this journal, I've explored more deeply the roots behind my issues. Fortunately, I haven't had to do this totally alone, always having my loving and supportive wife by my side - a blessing I cannot be more thankful for.
A little background. When I lived as a female, I didn't do much to endorse my femininity, instead, I dressed very casually, rarely wore makeup, and normally just threw my hair up in a high ponytail or a clip. While this might have been one of the reasons I passed so well (I didn't go all super-feminine crazy as so many transsexuals do and so appeared much more natural), that wasn't my goal. I felt like being me and that didn't involve having to go to all that trouble. Honestly this is something that both confused and made my transsexual friends envious.
But that's not all really. As I've mentioned before in this journal, I didn't feel right when I passed 100%. When I was totally accepted as a female (the pinnacle of any MTF (male to female) transsexual's dream) I found it difficult to deal with it. I felt like I was being deceitful and lying all over again. It seemed that if living on the male end of the gender pendulum caused me discomfort feeling like I wasn't truly expressing the whole of myself, I started to get the inkling that swinging all the way over to the other side of the pendulum might cause the same problem.
To alleviate these feelings of disingenuous perception, I found myself actually telling people who were totally convinced I was a girl, that I wasn't always so. In a way, it made me feel a lot better - much in the same way as when I came out to others when I was male that I didn't feel like one. This of course is not commonplace behavior for a transsexual. I'm not saying that no transsexual does this, but based ony my experiences with those that I knew, they thought I was half crazy. I mean, I can see their point as for one thing; what I was doing was dangerous. Some transsexuals have to live with the fact they will never totally pass and deal with all the social stigmas and danger that come with that, so for someone who passed to actually expose themselves was something of a taboo.
The more prudent might ask me, sure you want these things, but what about your career? Won't this adversely affect it? I figure it would, but then again, work could be like an 8 hour acting job I go to, a place I pretend to be what I need to be to get ahead, but once I get off work, the hair will come down, the stiff clothes will come off, and the masculine facade shed. I figure I can deal with this so long as I don't take the actor home with me.
I dislike expectations based on gender which can make it tough being a member of a church with such specific gender roles. I would love to be able to attend and even hold a calling in Relief Society (the female specific area of the church) just as I would like to hold one in the Priesthood as I do now. Its not that I feel oppressed or anything, I mean the church has its rules, and I believe they are dictated by God, and if He wanted them different then so be it. It's not my job to change the church, and I would never deign to do so, its just annoying at times constantly being reminded of the distinction of my sex. I don't feel I really fit in very well with the guys, but I wonder if I wouldn't have the same problem were I tossed in with the women. I guess I'm just gender-screwed. ;)
So to put a point on this, I'm gonna throw up the proverbial middle finger at convention and be as androgynous as I choose to be. If I feel like being more male one day I will, but then if I feel differently the next day, so be it. I'm not intending to throw it in anyone's face, I just want to be real and express and be appreciated for all aspects of myself - aspects I feel are valid, genuine and hold in them no malice or guile.
This has been an increasingly revealing time in my life. Since the sudden and dramatic return of my cross gender feelings that prompted the creation of this journal, I've explored more deeply the roots behind my issues. Fortunately, I haven't had to do this totally alone, always having my loving and supportive wife by my side - a blessing I cannot be more thankful for.
A little background. When I lived as a female, I didn't do much to endorse my femininity, instead, I dressed very casually, rarely wore makeup, and normally just threw my hair up in a high ponytail or a clip. While this might have been one of the reasons I passed so well (I didn't go all super-feminine crazy as so many transsexuals do and so appeared much more natural), that wasn't my goal. I felt like being me and that didn't involve having to go to all that trouble. Honestly this is something that both confused and made my transsexual friends envious.
But that's not all really. As I've mentioned before in this journal, I didn't feel right when I passed 100%. When I was totally accepted as a female (the pinnacle of any MTF (male to female) transsexual's dream) I found it difficult to deal with it. I felt like I was being deceitful and lying all over again. It seemed that if living on the male end of the gender pendulum caused me discomfort feeling like I wasn't truly expressing the whole of myself, I started to get the inkling that swinging all the way over to the other side of the pendulum might cause the same problem.
To alleviate these feelings of disingenuous perception, I found myself actually telling people who were totally convinced I was a girl, that I wasn't always so. In a way, it made me feel a lot better - much in the same way as when I came out to others when I was male that I didn't feel like one. This of course is not commonplace behavior for a transsexual. I'm not saying that no transsexual does this, but based ony my experiences with those that I knew, they thought I was half crazy. I mean, I can see their point as for one thing; what I was doing was dangerous. Some transsexuals have to live with the fact they will never totally pass and deal with all the social stigmas and danger that come with that, so for someone who passed to actually expose themselves was something of a taboo.
This of course should have been a clue that maybe I wasn't as set on being 100% girl as I thought I was, but I was so caught up with the fact that I needed to adhere to a rigid two gender system it didn't allow for much wiggle room. I would either be a boy or a girl, and since being a boy wasn't working out, being a girl was the best choice, but I couldn't fight the fact that at times, I would wonder if I wasn't making the same mistake I made as a male (even if I couldn't explain why).
When I went back to living as a male (for strongly religious reasons coupled with the doubt I expressed above), I went back fully to the male spectrum, but realized that I couldn't live the way I had before. Ultimately I was changed anyhow; I had experience life changing events and could never go back to the way I had been before - not fully anyhow, but I made every attempt to be as male as I could. For one reason I felt guilt for the pain I had caused my parents and friends and that if I returned to their lives and didn't become the person they once knew as closely as possible, then I would somehow hurt them more. My reasons seemed good at the time, but they set me up for later failure.
I did maintain some sense of my former identity, but it was relegated to joking about my past and turning it into a big funny thing that happened the way that you might laugh at a friend who at one time was involved in a monstrous prank. Still, it was better than nothing, better than making them (and myself) face the reality that it wasn't a joke, nothing had changed - I still felt the same way - I just was feeling that way back in a male role.
Over the years I've felt this male role grate on me more and more, but I've had strength to just deal with it and push it off - escape into some game or some other addiction that prevented me from facing it. However even I knew that couldn't last forever and so recently decided to face it before it consumes me as it once did. I needed to find exactly what it was I really wanted - what I needed to feel like myself and to be happy.
In the past week I feel I've finally begun to explore the path that would lead to it. I won't go into all of the decision making processes that led to this, suffice it to say, it seems to me to be the right path.
Androgyny.
2. having both masculine and feminine characteristics.
3. having an ambiguous sexual identity.
4. neither clearly masculine nor clearly feminine in appearance
The more prudent might ask me, sure you want these things, but what about your career? Won't this adversely affect it? I figure it would, but then again, work could be like an 8 hour acting job I go to, a place I pretend to be what I need to be to get ahead, but once I get off work, the hair will come down, the stiff clothes will come off, and the masculine facade shed. I figure I can deal with this so long as I don't take the actor home with me.
I dislike expectations based on gender which can make it tough being a member of a church with such specific gender roles. I would love to be able to attend and even hold a calling in Relief Society (the female specific area of the church) just as I would like to hold one in the Priesthood as I do now. Its not that I feel oppressed or anything, I mean the church has its rules, and I believe they are dictated by God, and if He wanted them different then so be it. It's not my job to change the church, and I would never deign to do so, its just annoying at times constantly being reminded of the distinction of my sex. I don't feel I really fit in very well with the guys, but I wonder if I wouldn't have the same problem were I tossed in with the women. I guess I'm just gender-screwed. ;)
So to put a point on this, I'm gonna throw up the proverbial middle finger at convention and be as androgynous as I choose to be. If I feel like being more male one day I will, but then if I feel differently the next day, so be it. I'm not intending to throw it in anyone's face, I just want to be real and express and be appreciated for all aspects of myself - aspects I feel are valid, genuine and hold in them no malice or guile.
The Actor (Poem)
This is a poem I wrote many many years ago expressing my dissatisfaction with my life and how I always had to hide who I was. This was a time when the pendulum was pulled to its height as I desperately tried to prevent anyone from knowing how I really felt inside. Though the pendulum is no longer so strained, this poem still represents my feelings that I can never fully be myself for fear of how I will affect others close to me who are used to me as I am.
The Actor
Alone and sad I'm locked away
Far deep within the darkest cell:
A prison with no walls or chains,
Within my mind a living hell.
Perceptions of the world pass by;
I watch them from my mental cage,
But barred away from taking part
I let an actor take my stage.
He lives the life I've never known.
With him I can't identify.
The world accepts what they don't know
Is nothing but a living lie.
Because of him I can't be free,
And none can see that I exist,
But to remove him from his place
Is something that I dare not risk.
He lives a life that's not his own.
To take it is to kill the man.
And though he never should have lived,
Just who am I to say I can?
'cause though I might be fin'lly free,
It is not worth the risk I fear
To cause such pain to come about
And kill one others hold so dear.
For even if I showed the truth,
I fear that they will just not see
The man I killed to show myself
Was really never truly me.
I long to die but wish to live,
But trapped and buried I must stay
To save the sorrow caused to some
And let them love the lie I made.
Alone and sad I'm locked away
Far deep within the darkest cell:
A prison with no walls or chains,
Within my mind a living hell.
Perceptions of the world pass by;
I watch them from my mental cage,
But barred away from taking part
I let an actor take my stage.
He lives the life I've never known.
With him I can't identify.
The world accepts what they don't know
Is nothing but a living lie.
Because of him I can't be free,
And none can see that I exist,
But to remove him from his place
Is something that I dare not risk.
He lives a life that's not his own.
To take it is to kill the man.
And though he never should have lived,
Just who am I to say I can?
'cause though I might be fin'lly free,
It is not worth the risk I fear
To cause such pain to come about
And kill one others hold so dear.
For even if I showed the truth,
I fear that they will just not see
The man I killed to show myself
Was really never truly me.
I long to die but wish to live,
But trapped and buried I must stay
To save the sorrow caused to some
And let them love the lie I made.
Inter alia
My Meeting with the Bishop
The following was posted to a forum on 2-20-09:
I made a big decision earlier this week. I decided to meet with my
bishop concerning my GID. Now for those of you who know me know how
open I am and you can assume that I've spoke when bishops before about
my condition. You'd be correct in that assumption, but when I
normally speak to people about my issue, I speak to them about it in a
different WAY than I chose to this time.
I made a big decision earlier this week. I decided to meet with my
bishop concerning my GID. Now for those of you who know me know how
open I am and you can assume that I've spoke when bishops before about
my condition. You'd be correct in that assumption, but when I
normally speak to people about my issue, I speak to them about it in a
different WAY than I chose to this time.
I think as part of our culture and even our male stereotypes (which up
till a few months ago, I was still trying to live up to) we like to
keep our problems to ourselves. So when I told people about my past
transition, it was always in the context of "look here is what
happened to me, BUT I'm totally over it now and have overcome it."
This was a lie really, but I wanted to believe it. So while I was
open with people about my past, I never let on that it still bothered
me. I feel I mostly did this to not look weak or have them think
badly of me or have people feel as if I was confessing.
But this time when I went to see the bishop I decided I would tell him
the truth - how much it still affected me and how much it hurt. So I
went to see him and sat down with him. He already knew of my
condition because he was the EQ president of the ward I was in when I
left the church almost 10 years ago. We laughed reminiscing about our
first meeting. I had already left the church and he was making a
house call to an inactive member. I believed that I was quite terse
with him and asked him not to come back. He remembered it quite
differently, that I was far nicer than most in my position. I guess
my "terse" is not very intimidating. I mean I DID invite him to sit
down to talk, I just got to the point really fast :D
The bishop wanted to know more about how I things transpired and what
led me back to the church. In an abbreviated version of my story, I
told him the details related to the church, the fact that I knew I
would not be allowed to marry my husband in the temple or be sealed to
my children were I to transition, and the whole revelation that led me
back.
I found that when I was telling the story (BTW, I used to NEVER EVER
tell people about the fact I wanted a husband and children and about
how much sorrow it brought me knowing I would not be able to be sealed
to them because it was always so emotional for me, and as I mentioned
earlier, I didn't want people to feel I had any problems). So I let
myself feel it, and not try to play it off. I started to cry in the
meeting. I told him very flatly that I felt like I had given up a
pretty amazing future life all on the wings of the revelation I had to
come back - that the church HAD to be true or I felt my life would
have been wasted. I told him also that the common wisdom among the TS
community and medical professionals was that I should transition and
choosing to do what I was doing put me in a very lonely position.
To it all he had several responses. He told me that few had been
tested as I have. He said people pay lip service to sacrifices made
for the church, but few have had to really make a choice that would be
a painful sacrifice for them the rest of their lives based on a
revelation or the church. He said he himself would be included in
that group of those who haven't had to sacrifice as much.
He told me that I had a testimony, and not just of the church per se,
but of the Gospel plan itself. He told me that while I was a member
of his ward, he wanted me to do my best to be an example to the other
members because they would need my strength. He says this while I'm
crying of course - I wasn't feeling very strong then, but I understood
his point.
He also told me he really wanted this ward to be a haven for me, a
place where I could really feel comfortable. He told me that if
anyone ANYONE made me feel uncomfortable or caused me to lose my peace
to let him know immediately and he would take care of it.
Before I left I asked him to do me a favor. I asked him, being the
only person authorized besides myself to receive revelation for me, if
he would seek to do so. I told him that I was pioneering this road
alone and that I was truly reliant upon God's direction as I
experiment ways to live in harmony with my condition and the church.
He told me he would and asked if he would be permitted to ask around
concerning my condition for external help. I told him it would be
fine.
All in all it was a great meeting. I supremely resisted the urge to
deceive him and tell him everything was "okay" and so was able to lay
it out there with all the gravity that I feel. As such I felt a lot
of peace leaving there rather than feeling I left so much unsaid.
I will keep you all informed how I this all transpires, but I think I
might have just found a ward home I can stay in for a long time.
Role Reversal
The following is a post to a forum on 2-23-09:
I had a very difficult Friday with my family. It was four weeks ago my mother passed away that day and both my father and sister were having great difficulties. I spoke with them both and walked them through all of the emotions from anger and frustration, to denial, to eventual grief and depression. All in all this took about three hours on the phone. They both consider me the "strong one."
When I got home that night, my wife was expecting me to be in a good mood, as that night I had planned to visit some friends I had not seen in a while, but instead I was pretty depressed because I had to cancel those plans in order to help my family and talking about my deceased mother for so long only made me sad.
I tell you what was going on that night to provide a backdrop for what happened. My wife let me talk to her about the night and how things went and listened to me vex myself over whether or not I was doing enough in my father and sister's lives. We then began to talk about our future together.
Up to this point the plan had been, generally, that I would finish my degree in May, land a big corporate job as I've had in the past, only higher paying due to my degree, we would finish paying the remainder of our debt while my wife worked. We would then have children and my wife would quit working to raise and teach them, take on the domestic duties of housework and cooking, and eventually start a home-based business she could eventually involve the kids in.
Sounds great huh? Only one problem - both of us hated it - secretly, until Friday night. We believed in everything we wanted to do, the good job, teaching the kids, the domestic duties, the home based business, all of it, however we were doing it according to cultural normative roles. Let me give you a quick picture of my wife and I.
Among our friends my wife is considered "the guy" and I'm considered "the girl" even among those who have no idea about my gender dysphoria (see my "about me" section on my profile for more information about this). When we get together I tend to take on the server role, preparing meals and cleaning up and sitting in the kitchen and talking to the other women. My wife on the other hand sits with all the guys and talks emphatically about whatever they are discussing.
My wife is dispassionate, she has difficulty showing emotions, introverted and finds her greatest joys in self-accomplishment and in gaining new knowledge. I am very feeling, empathetic, religious, extroverted and find my greatest joys in lifting up and supporting others in reaching their potentials. We are both intelligent, however I am more faith based and she reason based. She hates domestic duties while I revel in them. She and I want children, but for her she sees it as a way to pass on her genes having little overall control in how they turn out, while I see them as little people to be molded into righteous individuals. In fact my wife believes she will have a hard time getting attached to her children with her difficulties showing emotion and fears it will negatively affect them. My wife doesn't give hugs or the like, and has only told me "I love you" verbally twice in the 4 years we have been together as a couple. I accept this, because I know how she feels by how she acts with me.
I have worked in the corporate world in the past, and to be honest, I hated it. I mean I loved what I did and progressed up the ranks very quickly, but I found my emotions were constantly being assaulted. I had to make very difficult impersonal decisions regarding my employees, people I saw as REAL PEOPLE with REAL LIVES, and while it was easy for my male counterparts at the highest levels of the company, I really struggled with it. I cried with my employees when things got difficult and always sought for ways to bolster their self esteem. I also found being at the highest levels of my company and interacting with others of similar status with other companies just how much they care about themselves. The face they show to their fellow "elite" is so much different than that which they show to their employees and it sickened me. I can put on the face, and act the part, but it killed me. I am more of a self starter and want to do my own business where I am the boss, and if I had employees would treat them with an incredible degree of respect.
My wife on the other hand has been working for the past three years at odd jobs. Since she is not a socialite and waaaaay too intelligent for her own good, she often has difficulty being tactful and likable. This has resulted in bad interviews and reduced ability to get hired. She hates working with people and would enjoy a whole day if no one interacted with her. When she gets home she immediately immerses herself in study, whether it be a forum regarding new geological discoveries, investigating animal species, watching a documentary about just about anything and pointing out the misinformation in it, or reading a book about hox genes in flies and evolution by mutation. This is her real passion and she desperately desires to go back to school again to obtain her masters and eventual doctorate.
Well, in talking on Friday night we realized that our plan, sound as it was, actually played on the weaknesses of the other. I really didn't want to go back to that corporate world, at least not for an extended period of time, and she really didn't want to be responsible for the domestic duties or the children. In being honest with one another we realized that what we really desired was the opposite person's role. I wanted to keep the house clean, cook every night, serve my family, nurture, raise and teach my children from infancy, have a self-started home based business and support my spouse in whatever she decided to do to make her mark on the world. My wife wanted to go back to school, get her masters and then work on her doctorate. During this time she wanted to look for internships and other opportunities to pursue a career in paleontology or geological surveying and research.
After this huge reveal, I looked at her and said, "Why not? Who is forcing us to do what we don't want to do but us?" She agreed and we have since decided that, even though it will be a change from societal norms and even our own initial expectations, we will reverse roles.
I - AM - SO - EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!!
I couldn't have married a better person for me!!! I love her so very much!!! I want so much for her to succeed, for her to achieve her dreams and not be burdened by societal expectations! I want to lift her up and see her reach the stars! I myself cannot wait to take on the responsibilities I expected I would take when I transitioned, and take on a role that is so much more in keeping with who I am inside and not who I am expected to be! I will get to raise and teach my children, be their loving emotional nurturing parent, and sow seeds of great respect for their hard working mother, who, while she doesn't show her emotions often, loves them very much. She looks forward to being able to teach her children about her work, and engage them in her intellectual interests while not being expected to fulfill the role of the emotional nurturing mother.
We also realized the further implications of this all. My wife knows "The Actor," (the male facade I created in my youth to look and appear to follow cultural norms for my sex). She has seen him and knows he comes out as a way to protect myself. I had to wear him every day at my job, and she knew how much it pained me to do it. If we do this role reversal, I can truly throw him in the trash! Who needs him? I'm already going against every single societal expectation for me and as such, I don't need to look like the kind of person who would abhor the role I've taken - it would be too inconsistent. This also means the potential weakening of the symptoms of my GID (gender identity disorder). I will be the "mother" to my children and more in line with my heart and desires, while supporting my "husband" as she works hard in the world.
One more thing. My wife and I have never been much for tradition. So much has this been the case that my wife didn't really want to change her last name to mine, and I didn't feel much need for her to do so. However I did feel it important we have the same last name. I suggested changing mine to hers, something she readily accepted but something my family was very against. Because of this, she has maintained her maiden name and I my name. Things are changing though. For one thing, the children we will have will not be mine biologically - I cannot have children and she plans to have children through artificial means meaning they will be biologically related to her. I have no particular tie to my name - heck I've already changed it once - first and last. Therefore I've decided finally that I will change my last name to match hers and carry on her line. I know this is not traditional, but she feels strongly about keeping her name, and I feel strongly that we should all have the same last name, so doing this we meet both of our goals. I am truly happy that I can honor her in her desires this way and she is very happy that her family will be in her name.
This is truly momentous for us and such an exciting time! I'm so glad to have the wife I have and for our joint desires as non-traditional as they are. I cannot wait to be done with school to get our lives moving forward and get her back into school.
Thanks for listening!
I had a very difficult Friday with my family. It was four weeks ago my mother passed away that day and both my father and sister were having great difficulties. I spoke with them both and walked them through all of the emotions from anger and frustration, to denial, to eventual grief and depression. All in all this took about three hours on the phone. They both consider me the "strong one."
When I got home that night, my wife was expecting me to be in a good mood, as that night I had planned to visit some friends I had not seen in a while, but instead I was pretty depressed because I had to cancel those plans in order to help my family and talking about my deceased mother for so long only made me sad.
I tell you what was going on that night to provide a backdrop for what happened. My wife let me talk to her about the night and how things went and listened to me vex myself over whether or not I was doing enough in my father and sister's lives. We then began to talk about our future together.
Up to this point the plan had been, generally, that I would finish my degree in May, land a big corporate job as I've had in the past, only higher paying due to my degree, we would finish paying the remainder of our debt while my wife worked. We would then have children and my wife would quit working to raise and teach them, take on the domestic duties of housework and cooking, and eventually start a home-based business she could eventually involve the kids in.
Sounds great huh? Only one problem - both of us hated it - secretly, until Friday night. We believed in everything we wanted to do, the good job, teaching the kids, the domestic duties, the home based business, all of it, however we were doing it according to cultural normative roles. Let me give you a quick picture of my wife and I.
Among our friends my wife is considered "the guy" and I'm considered "the girl" even among those who have no idea about my gender dysphoria (see my "about me" section on my profile for more information about this). When we get together I tend to take on the server role, preparing meals and cleaning up and sitting in the kitchen and talking to the other women. My wife on the other hand sits with all the guys and talks emphatically about whatever they are discussing.
My wife is dispassionate, she has difficulty showing emotions, introverted and finds her greatest joys in self-accomplishment and in gaining new knowledge. I am very feeling, empathetic, religious, extroverted and find my greatest joys in lifting up and supporting others in reaching their potentials. We are both intelligent, however I am more faith based and she reason based. She hates domestic duties while I revel in them. She and I want children, but for her she sees it as a way to pass on her genes having little overall control in how they turn out, while I see them as little people to be molded into righteous individuals. In fact my wife believes she will have a hard time getting attached to her children with her difficulties showing emotion and fears it will negatively affect them. My wife doesn't give hugs or the like, and has only told me "I love you" verbally twice in the 4 years we have been together as a couple. I accept this, because I know how she feels by how she acts with me.
I have worked in the corporate world in the past, and to be honest, I hated it. I mean I loved what I did and progressed up the ranks very quickly, but I found my emotions were constantly being assaulted. I had to make very difficult impersonal decisions regarding my employees, people I saw as REAL PEOPLE with REAL LIVES, and while it was easy for my male counterparts at the highest levels of the company, I really struggled with it. I cried with my employees when things got difficult and always sought for ways to bolster their self esteem. I also found being at the highest levels of my company and interacting with others of similar status with other companies just how much they care about themselves. The face they show to their fellow "elite" is so much different than that which they show to their employees and it sickened me. I can put on the face, and act the part, but it killed me. I am more of a self starter and want to do my own business where I am the boss, and if I had employees would treat them with an incredible degree of respect.
My wife on the other hand has been working for the past three years at odd jobs. Since she is not a socialite and waaaaay too intelligent for her own good, she often has difficulty being tactful and likable. This has resulted in bad interviews and reduced ability to get hired. She hates working with people and would enjoy a whole day if no one interacted with her. When she gets home she immediately immerses herself in study, whether it be a forum regarding new geological discoveries, investigating animal species, watching a documentary about just about anything and pointing out the misinformation in it, or reading a book about hox genes in flies and evolution by mutation. This is her real passion and she desperately desires to go back to school again to obtain her masters and eventual doctorate.
Well, in talking on Friday night we realized that our plan, sound as it was, actually played on the weaknesses of the other. I really didn't want to go back to that corporate world, at least not for an extended period of time, and she really didn't want to be responsible for the domestic duties or the children. In being honest with one another we realized that what we really desired was the opposite person's role. I wanted to keep the house clean, cook every night, serve my family, nurture, raise and teach my children from infancy, have a self-started home based business and support my spouse in whatever she decided to do to make her mark on the world. My wife wanted to go back to school, get her masters and then work on her doctorate. During this time she wanted to look for internships and other opportunities to pursue a career in paleontology or geological surveying and research.
After this huge reveal, I looked at her and said, "Why not? Who is forcing us to do what we don't want to do but us?" She agreed and we have since decided that, even though it will be a change from societal norms and even our own initial expectations, we will reverse roles.
I - AM - SO - EXCITED!!!!!!!!!!!
I couldn't have married a better person for me!!! I love her so very much!!! I want so much for her to succeed, for her to achieve her dreams and not be burdened by societal expectations! I want to lift her up and see her reach the stars! I myself cannot wait to take on the responsibilities I expected I would take when I transitioned, and take on a role that is so much more in keeping with who I am inside and not who I am expected to be! I will get to raise and teach my children, be their loving emotional nurturing parent, and sow seeds of great respect for their hard working mother, who, while she doesn't show her emotions often, loves them very much. She looks forward to being able to teach her children about her work, and engage them in her intellectual interests while not being expected to fulfill the role of the emotional nurturing mother.
We also realized the further implications of this all. My wife knows "The Actor," (the male facade I created in my youth to look and appear to follow cultural norms for my sex). She has seen him and knows he comes out as a way to protect myself. I had to wear him every day at my job, and she knew how much it pained me to do it. If we do this role reversal, I can truly throw him in the trash! Who needs him? I'm already going against every single societal expectation for me and as such, I don't need to look like the kind of person who would abhor the role I've taken - it would be too inconsistent. This also means the potential weakening of the symptoms of my GID (gender identity disorder). I will be the "mother" to my children and more in line with my heart and desires, while supporting my "husband" as she works hard in the world.
One more thing. My wife and I have never been much for tradition. So much has this been the case that my wife didn't really want to change her last name to mine, and I didn't feel much need for her to do so. However I did feel it important we have the same last name. I suggested changing mine to hers, something she readily accepted but something my family was very against. Because of this, she has maintained her maiden name and I my name. Things are changing though. For one thing, the children we will have will not be mine biologically - I cannot have children and she plans to have children through artificial means meaning they will be biologically related to her. I have no particular tie to my name - heck I've already changed it once - first and last. Therefore I've decided finally that I will change my last name to match hers and carry on her line. I know this is not traditional, but she feels strongly about keeping her name, and I feel strongly that we should all have the same last name, so doing this we meet both of our goals. I am truly happy that I can honor her in her desires this way and she is very happy that her family will be in her name.
This is truly momentous for us and such an exciting time! I'm so glad to have the wife I have and for our joint desires as non-traditional as they are. I cannot wait to be done with school to get our lives moving forward and get her back into school.
Thanks for listening!
I did it! A New Start
The following is a post to a forum on 2-2-09:
For those who have been following my story, I have tremendous news, and I have to thank the many members who have been so helpful to me here on this forum for helping me along this road.
When I came to this forum, I was struggling very much with my gender identity disorder. Even though I had made the decision to live again as my birth gender to live consistently with my religious beliefs, it was getting really hard to continue to do it. I had lived the past six years without much regard to my gender inconsistency allowing those who loved me to believe that it was all in the past - a big phase - and I didn't really introduce it to new people afterwards. I thought this was the right way to handle it, it seemed comfortable to do so, but ultimately it was killing me inside.
I felt like I was being insincere with people; I was cutting out of my life a huge part of what made me who I am - a part that was such a large part of my testimony of this Gospel. I also was pretending to be something I wasn't, a person with no gender identity issues.
So by the time I came here, I needed help, support, friends, and I needed to feel genuine. I was at that time scouring the internet for transgendered people like myself who decided not to transition and more specifically find ones who were also LDS.
My search ended in failure after failure continually running into people who hated and despised the church, who chose to live their lives out of harmony with the Gospel and take it upon themselves to tell me that I was the deluded one. To tell you the truth, I started to believe them I was getting so downhearted. My gender dysphoria was growing, but there didn't seem to be anywhere to go to find help on living with it without transitioning to the other sex.
Then my mother died. She died 10 days ago on a Friday morning. It was very unexpected and she was only 58 years old. My mother was a great friend and was always a champion for me during my gender struggles. Now she was gone. However in her death a new spark was lit within me. I saw a new path previously hidden: a new opportunity. If I couldn't find someone who was able to make it, to live successfully as their birth gender despite this horrid dysphoria, then I was going to pave that road myself for others. I was going to find a way to do it, make all the mistakes so that others who would follow after me wouldn't have to. Essentially, I would write the book on combating and living a healthy and successful life with gender identity disorder.
To do this will require experimentation and a series of coping "tests". If the "test" works, I will adopt it into my regime, if not, then I will abandon it for another coping technique until I find enough that work.
I made two decisions to aid in my coping. Two "tests". First, I am going to stop hiding it all like it was some dirty secret. I intend to stop stifling my desire to say the things I wanted to say just because they didn't fit into my birth gender stereotype. I intend share my past with others as it is appropriate to do so.
Secondly, I intend to make changes to the way I look and act. For a while I have tried to live as my birth gender according to my own stereotypes about it even if I hated the way I looked. Now this doesn't mean I'm going to dress like the other sex, but rather that I intend to widen my scope a bit more and be less rigid. I'm going to get my hair cut short again the way I like it and find some clothes that I feel better represent me. Concerning the changes to the way I act, I just will try not to pressure myself to conform to gender norms. Sometimes that may end with my acting a little "out of character" for some people but in line with how I feel.
In the end, you might not agree with my decisions I mention above, but know this: I'm walking into uncharted territory, and everything I am doing I am doing to ultimately STAY a member of the church I love and not be driven insane by my dysphoria.
So today when I went to church, I had the opportunity to talk to a few of the members and, strangely enough, without my prompting, the conversation went in the direction of gender differences in the church. I shared a small bit of my experience with those present as it related to the conversation. They were shocked but not offended - in fact it might have even endeared them too me somewhat. Upon them questioning me further, they asked if there was anything they could do to help me. I smiled and realized the answer. "Please, all I need you to do, is just know. Just by knowing that you know what I struggle with, makes it so much easier to bear." With loving approval those who were with me nodded almost with one accord. I felt SO GOOD! I felt like flying I was so happy! I had been able to show myself, be real, be authentic! What made it even better was that they were accepting - something that is a very nice bonus!
I intend to continue to fight this fight and I'll keep you updated from time to time on my victories (or defeats), but without the strength of this community and the examples of its members, I do not think I would have reached the point to be able to do this right now.
For those who have been following my story, I have tremendous news, and I have to thank the many members who have been so helpful to me here on this forum for helping me along this road.
When I came to this forum, I was struggling very much with my gender identity disorder. Even though I had made the decision to live again as my birth gender to live consistently with my religious beliefs, it was getting really hard to continue to do it. I had lived the past six years without much regard to my gender inconsistency allowing those who loved me to believe that it was all in the past - a big phase - and I didn't really introduce it to new people afterwards. I thought this was the right way to handle it, it seemed comfortable to do so, but ultimately it was killing me inside.
I felt like I was being insincere with people; I was cutting out of my life a huge part of what made me who I am - a part that was such a large part of my testimony of this Gospel. I also was pretending to be something I wasn't, a person with no gender identity issues.
So by the time I came here, I needed help, support, friends, and I needed to feel genuine. I was at that time scouring the internet for transgendered people like myself who decided not to transition and more specifically find ones who were also LDS.
My search ended in failure after failure continually running into people who hated and despised the church, who chose to live their lives out of harmony with the Gospel and take it upon themselves to tell me that I was the deluded one. To tell you the truth, I started to believe them I was getting so downhearted. My gender dysphoria was growing, but there didn't seem to be anywhere to go to find help on living with it without transitioning to the other sex.
Then my mother died. She died 10 days ago on a Friday morning. It was very unexpected and she was only 58 years old. My mother was a great friend and was always a champion for me during my gender struggles. Now she was gone. However in her death a new spark was lit within me. I saw a new path previously hidden: a new opportunity. If I couldn't find someone who was able to make it, to live successfully as their birth gender despite this horrid dysphoria, then I was going to pave that road myself for others. I was going to find a way to do it, make all the mistakes so that others who would follow after me wouldn't have to. Essentially, I would write the book on combating and living a healthy and successful life with gender identity disorder.
To do this will require experimentation and a series of coping "tests". If the "test" works, I will adopt it into my regime, if not, then I will abandon it for another coping technique until I find enough that work.
I made two decisions to aid in my coping. Two "tests". First, I am going to stop hiding it all like it was some dirty secret. I intend to stop stifling my desire to say the things I wanted to say just because they didn't fit into my birth gender stereotype. I intend share my past with others as it is appropriate to do so.
Secondly, I intend to make changes to the way I look and act. For a while I have tried to live as my birth gender according to my own stereotypes about it even if I hated the way I looked. Now this doesn't mean I'm going to dress like the other sex, but rather that I intend to widen my scope a bit more and be less rigid. I'm going to get my hair cut short again the way I like it and find some clothes that I feel better represent me. Concerning the changes to the way I act, I just will try not to pressure myself to conform to gender norms. Sometimes that may end with my acting a little "out of character" for some people but in line with how I feel.
In the end, you might not agree with my decisions I mention above, but know this: I'm walking into uncharted territory, and everything I am doing I am doing to ultimately STAY a member of the church I love and not be driven insane by my dysphoria.
So today when I went to church, I had the opportunity to talk to a few of the members and, strangely enough, without my prompting, the conversation went in the direction of gender differences in the church. I shared a small bit of my experience with those present as it related to the conversation. They were shocked but not offended - in fact it might have even endeared them too me somewhat. Upon them questioning me further, they asked if there was anything they could do to help me. I smiled and realized the answer. "Please, all I need you to do, is just know. Just by knowing that you know what I struggle with, makes it so much easier to bear." With loving approval those who were with me nodded almost with one accord. I felt SO GOOD! I felt like flying I was so happy! I had been able to show myself, be real, be authentic! What made it even better was that they were accepting - something that is a very nice bonus!
I intend to continue to fight this fight and I'll keep you updated from time to time on my victories (or defeats), but without the strength of this community and the examples of its members, I do not think I would have reached the point to be able to do this right now.
Lies
The following is a post written to a forum on 1-16-09:
I need some advice, but you need some background before giving it.
This post will assume you already know my specific struggle (if you don't, you can see it on my profile).
When I am at church I often feel very alone. I feel like I need to meet the expectations of those around me. Nothing new to anyone here I am sure. I feel like if I were to speak plainly about my interests or how I feel about things, that I would make the other members uncomfortable, so I do my best to "appear" like someone who is comfortable in their gender role (even if I'm not).
Now I've committed to living the Gospel and believe the church is true, but I feel that there is this very important part of my life and history that is not bad, but that I must suppress. As such, I feel like I deceive people all the time, like I'm being fake or inauthentic. I might have specific insights that I'd like to share, but for fear that it would come across as odd from me, I sometimes say I "heard" it from someone else who fits a more gender appropriate role.
I also have another group of friends, online and otherwise, with whom I do not have to put up any walls. They know who I am, they interact with me as I wish to be, and don't think me strange or weird. When I am accepted for myself I feel so incredibly happy - like a great weight is lifted off my shoulders, and everyone I interact with afterwards can tell it (even if they don't know why I'm so elated).
The downside is, the people who treat me so well tend to be people who are transitioning to becoming the other sex as I used to be. This of course tempts me, so I cut off communication with them for a while, only to find myself feeling very alone again.
I wonder if my church friends and others like them knew the truth, knew how I felt, my heart, and true interests, if I wouldn't necessarily NEED to communicate with others who draw me back to darker paths. I could be accepted as a LDS member who has a specific condition that makes me the way I am but who is desperately trying to live the Gospel as the appropriate sex even though it is difficult.
Of course telling others might really have some drawbacks, perhaps people would think I was confessing. I don't feel that I am, because I haven't done anything wrong, I'm quite temple worthy, I just want people to understand where I come from and allow me to be myself around them. Another drawback is that I might make people really uncomfortable - something I definitely don't want. Another drawback is that I might have happen to me what happened in the past and have people actually turn on me and use the knowledge about me against me.
If I had my way, (my selfish way I feel) I wouldn't care what others thought, I'd just be myself, say what I would normally say, share myself and interests without reservation, but know that I am doing my best to continue to live the Gospel regardless of personal struggle. I don't know if this is the best way to be, it might be off-putting. I hear the thing that straight people find the most offensive is when gays, etc. are "in their face" about it. I certainly don't want to be that and don't feel I really ever have been. I always try to be considerate of those around me - perhaps to my detriment.
In the end, I need a way to feel less alone, less deceitful, more open and honest, more myself and to do so with people who will actually ENCOURAGE me to continue on my quest to keep the commandments rather than interacting with those who would tempt me away from those covenants.
I need some advice, but you need some background before giving it.
This post will assume you already know my specific struggle (if you don't, you can see it on my profile).
When I am at church I often feel very alone. I feel like I need to meet the expectations of those around me. Nothing new to anyone here I am sure. I feel like if I were to speak plainly about my interests or how I feel about things, that I would make the other members uncomfortable, so I do my best to "appear" like someone who is comfortable in their gender role (even if I'm not).
Now I've committed to living the Gospel and believe the church is true, but I feel that there is this very important part of my life and history that is not bad, but that I must suppress. As such, I feel like I deceive people all the time, like I'm being fake or inauthentic. I might have specific insights that I'd like to share, but for fear that it would come across as odd from me, I sometimes say I "heard" it from someone else who fits a more gender appropriate role.
I also have another group of friends, online and otherwise, with whom I do not have to put up any walls. They know who I am, they interact with me as I wish to be, and don't think me strange or weird. When I am accepted for myself I feel so incredibly happy - like a great weight is lifted off my shoulders, and everyone I interact with afterwards can tell it (even if they don't know why I'm so elated).
The downside is, the people who treat me so well tend to be people who are transitioning to becoming the other sex as I used to be. This of course tempts me, so I cut off communication with them for a while, only to find myself feeling very alone again.
I wonder if my church friends and others like them knew the truth, knew how I felt, my heart, and true interests, if I wouldn't necessarily NEED to communicate with others who draw me back to darker paths. I could be accepted as a LDS member who has a specific condition that makes me the way I am but who is desperately trying to live the Gospel as the appropriate sex even though it is difficult.
Of course telling others might really have some drawbacks, perhaps people would think I was confessing. I don't feel that I am, because I haven't done anything wrong, I'm quite temple worthy, I just want people to understand where I come from and allow me to be myself around them. Another drawback is that I might make people really uncomfortable - something I definitely don't want. Another drawback is that I might have happen to me what happened in the past and have people actually turn on me and use the knowledge about me against me.
If I had my way, (my selfish way I feel) I wouldn't care what others thought, I'd just be myself, say what I would normally say, share myself and interests without reservation, but know that I am doing my best to continue to live the Gospel regardless of personal struggle. I don't know if this is the best way to be, it might be off-putting. I hear the thing that straight people find the most offensive is when gays, etc. are "in their face" about it. I certainly don't want to be that and don't feel I really ever have been. I always try to be considerate of those around me - perhaps to my detriment.
In the end, I need a way to feel less alone, less deceitful, more open and honest, more myself and to do so with people who will actually ENCOURAGE me to continue on my quest to keep the commandments rather than interacting with those who would tempt me away from those covenants.
Who Am I?
*The Quick and Dirty Overview*
I'm a 28 year old bio-male from Dallas TX. I'm a convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from the age of 18 in 1998. I am also someone who has gender dysphoria. I officially refer to myself as a MTF (male to female) transsexual. I transitioned to becoming a female in 1999 and lived as such until 2002 when, due to a personal revelation from the Lord, I returned to the church and to the male sex. I reintegrated into a male lifestyle and have been active in the church ever since. I still have gender dysphoria and am here looking to meet others as we learn to cope with this insidious condition together.
*Before Conversion*
I won't tell you as many others will that I've always *known* I was a girl. Let's just say I always suspected it. ;) From an early age I engaged in cross-gender behaviors and interests. I did things like kissed the other boys at school, told everyone I intended to marry my best friend (Timmy), always looked for an opportunity for make believe and roleplay and when doing so always took on the female role, and expected that I would grow up to be like my mom. Most of the adults in my life assumed I was just gay and would grow up accordingly. I of course was oblivious to the fact that I was doing anything weird at all. You could say it came naturally.
Puberty was a difficult time. At least while in elementary school I was still quite naive to the disdain the other boys had for me when they made fun of me, but by middle school they started to make it overwhelmingly clear. My cross gendered antics earned me a number of names and excessive hazing. I didn't walk right for a boy, didn't talk right with overexpressive gestures and a sing songy voice, and I had no specific interest in anything the boys were doing. All of this screamed "target!" by other kids looking to establish themselves. I did a make a few friends, but this was rather by default due to them being outcasts as well. They were the first though to make me aware, though they seemed uncomfortable doing it, that I came across as a girl and not a boy.
This shocking revelation would reverberate the rest of my life as I struggled during my late onset puberty with the fact that I was going to one day be a MAN: someone like one of those guys who beat me up, someone like my dad whom I feared, someone who be expected to do things that I wasn't any good at (remember, I still had a child's mind). This thought unsettled me. Now before I go any further let me mention that I always knew I was a boy, but until this time in my life it didn't seem to matter - there were no expectations to be met and I was naive to earlier attempts at making fun of me.
This is where the gender dysphoria truly began. At this time in my life I would begin to have dreams that I would instead grow up to be a girl. These dreams were incredibly pleasant and a shock to awake from. In fact as I got older, I'd find myself each night hoping and hoping that I'd have another - anything to escape the harsh reality of the person I was becoming even though such dreams would always be shattered the following morning with a brief glance in the mirror. I entered high school a depressed, anxious, and terrified young teenager. I had major problems with my dad, was no longer performing well in school, cross dressing any chance I got and dealing with the shame of it, and utterly hopeless that my future held any value for me.
In high school I made some new friends in my honors classes. A few of them took me under their wing and helped teach me to behave "more like a man". I listened to them with earnest and during this time developed the person I refer to as The Actor. The Actor was the male me that could have existed had the real me never been so screwed up. The Actor learned everything these boys had to teach him and he became REALLY good at it. In fact, The Actor, ended up being good at everything. He was smart, funny, manipulative, he got girls, he skipped school when he wanted, and he was a fairly cool cat. The Actor went to school in my body everyday and made things bearable. Kids who once made fun of me now had to deal with the fact that The Actor was smarter, funnier, and incredibly more popular than they were.
The Actor, however, was just an actor. I watched it all from inside of him. Yes, he was me, but at the same time something so foreign. In the church we are taught not to wear masks as the anonymity they offer can make us into different people. I didn’t need a physical mask, I let my actor take over. My mother became fed up with him and his attitude and my dad envied him. There was one huge drawback to The Actor though. As popular as it made me and as bearable as high school was because of it, he was not me – not at all. I was this kind sweet little kid who wanted nothing more than to please everyone who delighted in self sacrifice and service! The Actor didn’t care about anyone but himself and the world loved him for it. I felt that I wanted to be known again, but fear overwhelmed me and kept me hidden. But in the darkness of my hiding place away from the world, my gender dysphoria grew like a plague to proportions I could never have imagined.
I knew at this point that my cross gender desires were not going to go away as they only seemed to intensify. They needed release and while cross dressing at first helped a little, but with my body so masculinized with testosterone, cross dressing only served to remind me that I wasn’t in the body I wanted. I had seen a television show where a boy had become a girl, and after questioning my mom if that could really happen, I became convinced that it what I would do once I was 18 and out of high school. This one thought seemed to carry me through the last year.
As I rounded out my last year at high school The Actor met a new girl to woo. She however proved not to be so woo-able. She was LDS and not at all attracted to some of my antics. I started to realize that she, unlike countless other people I knew, might be the real deal – a person of real purity, a person that wasn’t necessarily going to be attracted to The Actor. I wanted very much to be friends with this girl. I began slowly to shred the façade I put up, and did anything I could to help make her life better. I offered to take her home from class when her car didn’t start, aid her in homework, listened to her when she was down, and did my best to make her smile whenever I saw her. She in turn, for my 18th birthday, gave me a Book of Mormon.
Now the details of my conversion are important but not at this time. I will say though that I spent a grueling eight months with the missionaries battling over doctrine. The girl who had started me on the path was already out of my life by that time, but her family whom she left behind continued to aid me in the spiritual quest. In the end however, being prompted by the Spirit, I read the whole of the Book of Mormon (in about a week), and by about Jacob 5, knew there was really something to the book, and by Alma was converted to the church. I finished the Book of Mormon and prayed as I was taught to do by the missionaries and exhorted to by Moroni, and like lightning the Spirit came upon me strongly endorsing its authenticity. I was baptized into the church two weeks later. I was 18 years old, still struggled with gender dysphoria, still had The Actor to deal with, had parents and friends who thought I was half nuts, but I knew it was true – a testimony that would bear me up during the difficult times that were shortly to come.
*After Conversion*
The first months in the church were bliss. I had plenty of challenges with Satan seeking at every turn to tell me the church was a lie, but I kept him at bay, and even toned down The Actor. I felt more love and grew more than at any time in my life previously. I buried myself in the scriptures and other writings of the prophets and wanted to do everything I could to learn all I could. When it was proposed to me that I go on a mission once I had been a member a year, I was all for it and began from that time to prepare for the task ahead. All the stuff that had once been important to me started to pale and my entire life became directed toward serving a mission for the church. I got an amazing job for a high school graduate and saved nearly every penny so that at my one year mark I could have $15,000 saved for a mission – a goal I would eventually meet. My relationship to the girl continued after I joined the church, and though she was away at Rick’s College (now BYU-Idaho), we considered ourselves a couple. I finally felt everything in my life make sense, I could be my caring service-oriented self, and know that I was doing the Lord’s work!
So what happened to my gender dysphoria and my plans to become a girl at 18? Well, let’s say I put the plans on the shelf when the dysphoria took a back seat to my overwhelming drive to serve a mission. I still felt it, but often pushed it to the back of my mind like barring the door to an unwelcome guest. I had a specific goal now and believed that the Lord would make it go away.
As the time grew closer to putting in my papers, the dysphoria began to creep back into the forefront of my mind. Perhaps it was due to uncertainty of where I would be sent or the challenges I would face, or perhaps it had been ignored for just too long, but its presence began to make itself known to me and depression set it. At this point the church was totally unaware of my cross-gendered feelings as I had left out that part during the baptismal interview due to the shame and awkwardness of it.
I knew that before I could serve a mission though that the bishop would need to know about my feelings or else I would not reasonably (truthfully) be able to comply with the mental health portion of the mission application. I sat down with him and told him my story. That first meeting was such as blur of emotion for me. I was telling this bishop the thing I had never told anyone else ever and my emotions bubbled over. By the end of the meeting he decided that I had better put the mission aside for the time being while I worked through more of my feelings through the church counseling program while I met with him weekly.
I was crushed. Everything I had been working toward suddenly got a “delayed indefinitely” stamp on it. I went to the counseling sessions and went to the regular bishop meetings over the next few months. We didn’t seem to make any progress. They were still convinced I needed more time, and I didn’t feel they were really helping me. All of the confusion only opened the window for my gender dysphoria to worsen as the future became more and more uncertain.
What made matters worse was having to explain to my friends and other adults at church why I hadn’t left of my mission. My girlfriend, who was still away at college, began to wonder as well and even began to think that I might not go. She desired to marry a return missionary and if I wasn’t going to be one, then she might as well look elsewhere. I don’t know if that was her reasoning or not, but ultimately she did look elsewhere and left me. I was crushed even more as my world began to cave in around me. I didn’t feel I could tell ANYONE why I wasn’t going on a mission yet but it didn’t stop people from asking me or making their own judgments I felt.
I retreated from the world and from the church. I still went as I did before, but I became more passive and less anxious to do more than I had to. I stopped going there for comfort and support and turned somewhere else – a new discovery, the world of internet chat rooms and forums, a place where I finally met people who felt the same way I did.
*Before Transition*
The internet seemed to be a godsend. For the first time I got to interact with others who not only had my cross gendered feelings, but were my own age! These kids care from all walks of life and with different backgrounds, but they all had the same thing in common, each of them struggled with gender identity dysphoria. I immediately fit in. I got to know them and their stories and they mine. My story was an oddity to most of them as none of the were Mormon and most of them were in some stage of transition (changing to the other sex) with or without their parent’s approval.
Becoming an active part of this community filled a whole I had my whole life. I wanted to be with these people all of the time. For the first time I could completely cull The Actor, I could totally be myself, I could share my deepest feelings and be validated for them. I didn’t feel ashamed of myself. I started to neglect all of my real relationships with others just to be in the chatroom or on the forums with my new friends. I still went to church and to the bishop meetings but secretly desired to be home in front of my computer.
During this period I felt wonderful, but that wonderful feeling gave way to intense longing. I wanted to be myself with everyone! I hated being able to be so free online, then so stuffy with everyone else I knew. Even though my bishop knew, he didn’t count because he was telling me there was something wrong with me. I didn’t like feeling like there was something wrong with me! I decided the only way I could really start to break free of The Actor and to feel as free as I did on those forums was to start coming out to others.
I started with my closest friends, mostly girls. Generally it was accepted well and some of them who knew me the longest told me that it was somewhat expected. I was suddenly invited to all the things I never got to go to as a child, slumber parties, shopping trips, all girl gatherings, etc! It was heaven! I started coming out to my guy friends as well at the urgings of my girl friends. They took it less well having been totally consumed previously in their relationship with The Actor, but most accepted it and a new, freer me. I even came out to some close friends at church who, for the greater part of them, were puzzled at my feelings but more concerned about them than embracing. Naturally I started gravitating toward the friends that validated my feelings and shied away from those who were confused by them or felt them dangerous.
Getting this out in the open felt liberating like a big weight was lifted from off my shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. Finally people knew the truth about my feelings, but I was still a boy and the gender dysphoria made my ever aware of this fact. It was now six months after the time I should have gone on my mission with less and less hope of that now occurring so my mind began to turn to other plans. Encouraged and emboldened by my friends online, I decided that I would start down the path of transition as well.
At this time my parents were having to suddenly move to a new home due to some financial concerns. They, pretty sure that I wasn’t going to be going on a mission anytime soon, though unaware as to why, borrowed $9000 of the money I had saved for my mission to save them from bankruptcy. I took the remaining money and decided to move into my own apartment instead of moving with them. The move to this new apartment was specifically so that I could begin transition. I told my friends of my intention and while some cheered me on, others, namely my church friends, went into red alert mode.
They did everything they could to convince me that transition was the wrong thing to do. In the end they succeeded and I put my transition on hold purging (throwing out) everything of mine that had anything “female” about it, and even had a friend move in with me to monitor me, but seeing no potential for forward momentum in life or in the church, I spiraled into a deep depression and lost job after job and eventually was evicted from my new apartment.
When I returned to my parent’s house I felt I had lost everything. I wrestled in prayer with the Lord begging him to fix me – to take it all away! I wanted to serve a mission, I really did, but I couldn’t if I couldn’t get my dysphoria under control! I became frustrated for the first time with the church and with the Lord. I was in the worse depression of my life – I couldn’t transition, I couldn’t go on a mission, God wouldn’t take away the feelings, but the church would never condone my choice should I try to handle my feelings by changing my sex. It was at this point, I had to make a choice.
With a heavy heart, I bowed to my knees in prayer and begged God to give me a sign that everything was going to be alright, that He would take away my dysphoria, that He would make me a whole person and happy as a male in a male role. I told Him that if He didn’t answer, then I knew what the answer would be, and that I would transition and leave the church. There was no answer that night from God. I felt abandoned. I took comfort though in that I now had no shackles keeping me from transition. If God wasn’t going to stop me, then no one else had a chance of doing so.
*Transition Interlude*
Because this story isn’t about my transition, but about my relationship with the church being a transgendered individual, I will by necessity abbreviate this part of my story.
I left the church. I told the Elder’s Quorum to stay away. I told my church friends that if they wanted to remain my friends they wouldn’t try to get me to go back. I came out to pretty much everyone who didn’t know before only this time, I told them I was changing my sex. My mom embraced my decision and did all she could do to help reasoning that “she always knew”.
I started seeing a gender therapist to help me in transition, started on female hormones, and came out at the job my mother got me. I stated dressing as a girl around the house and sometimes out in public, and became active in the transgendered community in Dallas. My young body, still malleable to the effects, began to change overnight in the presence of the hormones and daily I became more and more passable as a girl. My hair grew out long and I practiced and perfected new intonations in my voice. Eventually I saved enough money to buy a new wardrobe and have an orchidectomy (castration) to remove the future effects of testosterone.
In about five months I was ready. I moved to Missouri to live with a friend from the internet and started living as a girl full time. I passed (was accepted as a female by the general public) almost instantaneously – so much so I accidentally convinced the GBLT youth group I joined that I was a young lesbian instead of a transsexual. I got a job as a girl.
The next few months flew by with complete integration into my new role and new communities of friends to find support with. Eventually I moved to Oklahoma to live with some other girls there and even eventually moved in with a genetic girl roommate. There I attended college for the first time, dated guys, provided for myself, and did just about everything else a girl does. I had made it. I needed only to save up the money to finish electrolysis (to remove what hair I had on my face) and eventually SRS (sex reassignment surgery).
This time in my life was one of trial but great rewards. I loved the person I was. My gender dysphoria subsided completely and I looked forward to a remarkable future as an intelligent, beautiful, college educated young woman, who intended to be married to the guy of her choice and one day adopt children with him. I yearned for that goal, I worked hard to achieve it, but with that dream came its own nightmare.
I wasn’t active in church, but I still believed in it. I had a powerful testimony and one unanswered prayer didn’t invalidate it. I still knew the Book of Mormon was true and that the church was where to find eternal happiness. I wanted my future husband to be Mormon and my children! I wanted to be sealed to them in the temple for time and all eternity! I wanted to be their mom and love them as their mother. But I knew inside that if I completed my transition that could never be. Even if my husband was a member, and even if my children did join, their mother could never go to the temple. Their mother could never be sealed to her spouse or them. Their mother would be forced to go to Priesthood and they would have to bear the shame of it all. The thought sickened me – I didn’t want that to happen to them! I thought that perhaps I just wouldn’t raise them in the church, but then knew the horrible blessing I would be withholding from my children and knew I couldn’t do it. These thoughts destroyed me. I wanted to hate the church, I wished I had never known about it, that it had never come into my life, that I had never met that girl, that I had never read the Book of Mormon, and most of all that I never had the testimony that came from that so very powerful, undeniable witness of the Holy Ghost. But I knew it was true and because of that, something had to change.
*Revelation*
It was an excessively cold winter night in Tulsa, the ground and streets were frozen, but I was a woman on a mission – I needed to contact the church. I needed to find out if I could still return to the church that I knew was true but do so as I was now. I looked up a local ward’s information in the phone book and called the church office. Amazingly someone picked up. I asked if I could have the bishop’s phone number as I urgently needed to speak with him. I didn’t tell the clerk what it was about or that he wasn’t talking to a girl. He gave me the bishop’s phone number and I quickly hung up and dialed him. He answered at home, and sensing the urgency, agreed to meet with me up at the church building.
I made a perilous journey through the ice and snow but eventually found my way to the building based on his instructions. I went inside to meet with him. He asked what he could help me with addressing me as miss. I laughed inside and then told him who I was. His eyes bulged and jaw nearly hit the floor as I told him. He stuttered at first telling me that I couldn’t have picked a greener bishop to ask for him from. My question was simple. If I wanted to come back to the church, what would I need to do?
He took a moment to collect himself and then with authority told me several things, none of which I expected nor wanted to hear. He told me that I would need to quit my job, leave my roommate (as I was living with a girl), change back into a boy, and go before a disciplinary council to determine the terms of my return. I argued with him, how could I do all that? I had a life here! Changing all of those things the first time took a lot of time and I was just expected to change back? How was I going to eat without my job or live without my roommate? I felt hopeless and left that night in a fit of tears. He wished me the best as I drove back into the night’s freezing cold. I felt it had all been a waste of time that God must not really want me back in the church, that I was utterly damned. The church had ruined my dream of a husband and children, and it sought further to tell me that the only way I could be a member of it was to go back to being a hopeless male.
I got home and locked myself in my room not speaking to my roommate. I cried for hours. Nothing was going to be fixed. Even if I were to do what the bishop said, he didn’t tell me that the same problems wouldn’t happen all over again. I was truly damned. I could either believe in the church and ultimately forsake my dream or convince myself it wasn’t true and deny my family the opportunity to be sealed anyway. I got on my knees.
I told God everything that happened with the bishop and how sad it made me. I told Him all of my concerns, my worries, but how I still believed, how I wanted to come back to the church I loved, but how I didn’t want to be miserable. I told Him that if I had to go back to being a male, that I wanted to die. I paused then asked if I should follow the bishop’s advice. A voice came clearly into my mind with great power and an undeviating message. “The way back to the church is paved before you take the first step.” I arose from prayer knowing I had received my answer. I had to follow the bishop’s advice no matter how hard it seemed trusting that the Lord had already paved the way for me to return even though I couldn’t see it. I felt an incredible sadness, this meant the end of my life as a girl and an uncertain and potentially very miserable future, but ultimately the path the Lord wanted me on, and I surmised that if He was willing to tell me to do something, then I knew, in time, it would become clear why.
*The Next Few Days*
Going back would be as difficult as going forward I thought. I would have to change my name again, come out all over again but this time to people I knew here. I wasn’t even sure if my body could pass as male anymore so extensive were the changes so it. I’d have to find a new job and a new place to live and somehow do it as a male. I decided none of that mattered, I just needed to go forward with faith.
The next day I called my job and quit on the phone. I told my roommate that I would be moving out and would somehow figure out a way to make up my half of the rent for the remainder of the lease. When she asked why I avoided the issue telling her it was personal. I dug through my closet and found the most male clothes I could fine. I put them on and pulled my hair back into low pony tail, the way the guys wear it, and didn’t do anything but pull it flat against my head. I looked at the mirror and sulked, it certainly didn’t look male, but it would have to do.
I drove to the store and picked up one of the Sunday papers and quickly started going through the want ads. I found a company, temp to hire, that needed phone customer service done. I drove to the company and went in to apply. In the most male voice I could muster, I told them my old name and filled out the application. While there I was eventually called in for an interview and even accepted for the job. They asked for my driver’s license and I began the process of explaining that I was becoming a guy. They figured that out already it seemed because it didn’t surprise them much. They hired me that day.
That night I went home feeling like I had won a huge victory. Within one day I was able to do a lot of difficult things, but there were still so many unknowns. I decided that I would capitalize on my new decision and make a few people very happy. I called up my parents and told them on the phone about my decision leaving out a few of the spiritual details. They were overjoyed and told me that should I wish to, I could always return to live with them. They even offered to pay my half of the rent to my former roommate should I wish to come back sooner. This was a tempting offer and it would certainly be easier to de-transition where I was already known as a male. I told them I’d think about it.
I then decided to call a close friend of mine. Several of my friends all worked at the same video store and were on the shift till midnight. When I told one of them, he immediately told the others. They then clamored together and decided that they would make a midnight road trip to where I was living, over 5 hours away, and take me back to Dallas the next morning. I was ecstatic.
They arrived that night, each of them expressing sincere happiness at my “return” and we spent most of the rest of the night and into the early morning in laughter. The next morning I explained to my roommate that I was leaving, my friends and I rented a truck, packed up all of my things, and moved back to Dallas.
I should note at this point that I knew my GID was not gone, I knew it more strongly at this point than ever before. I knew the Lord’s promise to me that the way back was paved for me, but honestly, deeply inside, I wished that the Lord would kill me. I knew the depression I once felt, and I knew that God would expect me to live the rest of my life “faithfully” as a male. I sincerely hoped that the “rest of my life” would be a very short time so that I could die a repented male without the pain of the dysphoria plaguing me. That of course, at least 8 years later, has not happened.
*The Road Back*
The next few months were not easy as I sought to reclaim my male life, but my friends and family did all they could to make me feel welcome. Looking back at this time I’m exceeding grateful for all that they did, but I made some serious mistakes during this time that would haunt me later. During this time, I was so overjoyed to be back with these people who loved me, and they so glad to have me, I never told them the details concerning my return. It was generally assumed that I went to become a girl, didn’t like it, and now returned. The whole subject became a source of friendly hazing as if it were some big joke like a college prank. In the end, I allowed them to believe that my cross-gendered feelings were gone, or worse, never existed at all, and that this “phase” of my life was over so as not to worry them, and partly because I wanted to believe it. I began to re-establish the role of the Actor.
Returning to church was far easier than expected. When I left, I left a lot of people who knew why I was leaving and I feared to return to my old ward. The week I came back, a new single’s ward formed and I immediately began attending allowing me to really start over again. I told the bishop about what I had been through and my desire to repent. He helped me start along that process by first informing me that I needed to attend a disciplinary council.
I had never been before a disciplinary council before nor had known anyone to ever speak of it so I didn’t have any idea what to expect. All I knew was that I wanted to repent, return to full fellowship, and was willing to do whatever it required to do so. So when the council came I was prepared to answer any charge they laid at me honestly and with sincere repentance. Without disclosing every detail I will suffice it to say that the disciplinary council was a wonderful experience but one that provoked a lot of thought. They asked me to consider the people I had hurt and how I had hurt myself. I had been a very public figure when I joined the church and a strong advocate for the church. My leaving it had left an impact the councilors told me, one that I would need to make restitution for. I meekly promised them that while I could not undo what I had done, I would best show my repentance by how I lived my life from this day forward and they will know that my testimony is true.
Apparently because I had not yet been to the temple and because I had not had transsexual surgery, and because they felt my repentance was sincere, I was only given a warning and asked not to take the sacrament for about three months. I was also given access to church resources to help me make the transition back to being fully male even though I never used them.
As far as my physical appearance went, I went to my original doctor who prescribed me the female hormones and he began me on testosterone to undo some of the changes. To be honest, I hated being on testosterone. Despite the relatively low dose, my facial hair grew out as it hadn’t before, I became a lot more unstable with regard to my mood, and I felt overwhelming sexual urges that had never been a part of my life. I stopped taking the testosterone after only three months, but the changes were sufficient that I certainly could look more masculine again should I choose to.
The next few years were great as I completely readapted into my male role. I was incredibly active in church, had a few jobs and went to college. I made new friends as time went on and further cemented relationships with old friends. In 2003, I met my future wife through the internet and she eventually moved to Dallas to attend college with me. Feeling it important to be honest in my relationship with her, I came out to her early on in the friendship. She accepted my past and even thought well of me for discovering many of the things I did about myself. I however put my GID in the context of being in the “past” though with little to no bearing on my future.
I should mention at this point that I attempted dating other members of the church, but so afraid was I concerning the fact that I couldn’t have children, and also my weird, and most decidedly non-RM past, that pursuing a serious relationship in the church might be fruitless and disappointing. Also I didn’t treat church as a social engagement and had practically no friends from there. I was all business in the church building oblivious to the desires of others for friendship with me.
So years past. I was a married male to a non-member, with a high powered job, still attending college, very active in church, many friends outside of the church and had the world (and myself admittedly) convinced that I was perfectly normal. But this all came crashing down when the GID returned. Don’t get me wrong, it had always been there, in the back of my mind at times, and would even cause me distress at times, but I most definitively put the nix on it over and over again suppressing and suppressing until I was truly in a state of denial. I felt that if it came out of the box I had pressed it inside, that it would again consume my life and I would lose my marriage and my happy façade of a life.
*The Beast is Back*
Last year, at the age of 28, my GID resurfaced with newfound vengeance and fury and sought to totally dominate me again. I told my wife wishing to be honest with her and she promised to help me with a follow up promise that if I ever transitioned, it would be the end of our marriage – an agreement I had made long ago to her. As we talked about my feelings over the following months we discovered many of the things I have revealed here. Specifically we discovered that the one thing that makes my GID worse is pretending like it isn’t there. So how does one embrace his GID without letting it overcome him? How does one live with the dysphoria without suppressing it and without transitioning? These were questions I was going to have to answer if I was going to make it.
I have now been on this quest for 7 months at the time of writing this, and I have not found the answers to my questions. I don’t know why I am the way I am, if it is a mental illness, or a birth defect. I don’t know if I’m spiritually different or special, or if I’m just a male with a condition. I don’t know if there are others out there like me and even if there are if they have found a way to cope. I have the whole of the transgendered community and the psychiatric authorities telling me that transition is the only answer while inside I know it is the only answer I cannot accept. How far can I go without transitioning? What can I do to embrace my cross-gendered feelings without hamstringing my ability to provide for my family? There are a lot of questions and very few answers at this point. I rely daily on inspiration from the Lord on how to make it without keeling over from the pain, and He helps me, I feel daily, to have the strength to make it one more day. I don’t want to live from day to day however, I want to find a solution, and if the book hasn’t yet been written on how to deal with transgendered feelings without transitioning, then I will to write it if it doesn’t destroy me first. I have every confidence in the Lord’s promise to me that the way back was paved before I took the first step, and am relying on it to save me.
Let me close by saying that Satan has been viciously attacking the church in my mind of late. I feel wearied by it, but continue to stand on my testimony. The only thing keeping me from going back to living as a girl is my testimony. If God is real, and the LDS church is His church, then He spoke to me when I read the Book of Mormon, and He also told me by the power of His Spirit to return to being a boy despite the uncertainty it would bring. But if He isn’t real, and if this church isn’t what it claims to be, then my faith is meaningless, and I fight a pointless battle within myself to stop from doing the only thing I know can help me – transition. Satan tries to convince me of this every day because it is so tempting to my carnal mind – but I have to stand strong. I believe having other members willing to stand with me can only help to serve as added protection against the fiery darts of the Adversary, but this is the trial of my faith, and ultimately I can only stand on my own testimony.
I'm a 28 year old bio-male from Dallas TX. I'm a convert to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints from the age of 18 in 1998. I am also someone who has gender dysphoria. I officially refer to myself as a MTF (male to female) transsexual. I transitioned to becoming a female in 1999 and lived as such until 2002 when, due to a personal revelation from the Lord, I returned to the church and to the male sex. I reintegrated into a male lifestyle and have been active in the church ever since. I still have gender dysphoria and am here looking to meet others as we learn to cope with this insidious condition together.
*Before Conversion*
I won't tell you as many others will that I've always *known* I was a girl. Let's just say I always suspected it. ;) From an early age I engaged in cross-gender behaviors and interests. I did things like kissed the other boys at school, told everyone I intended to marry my best friend (Timmy), always looked for an opportunity for make believe and roleplay and when doing so always took on the female role, and expected that I would grow up to be like my mom. Most of the adults in my life assumed I was just gay and would grow up accordingly. I of course was oblivious to the fact that I was doing anything weird at all. You could say it came naturally.
Puberty was a difficult time. At least while in elementary school I was still quite naive to the disdain the other boys had for me when they made fun of me, but by middle school they started to make it overwhelmingly clear. My cross gendered antics earned me a number of names and excessive hazing. I didn't walk right for a boy, didn't talk right with overexpressive gestures and a sing songy voice, and I had no specific interest in anything the boys were doing. All of this screamed "target!" by other kids looking to establish themselves. I did a make a few friends, but this was rather by default due to them being outcasts as well. They were the first though to make me aware, though they seemed uncomfortable doing it, that I came across as a girl and not a boy.
This shocking revelation would reverberate the rest of my life as I struggled during my late onset puberty with the fact that I was going to one day be a MAN: someone like one of those guys who beat me up, someone like my dad whom I feared, someone who be expected to do things that I wasn't any good at (remember, I still had a child's mind). This thought unsettled me. Now before I go any further let me mention that I always knew I was a boy, but until this time in my life it didn't seem to matter - there were no expectations to be met and I was naive to earlier attempts at making fun of me.
This is where the gender dysphoria truly began. At this time in my life I would begin to have dreams that I would instead grow up to be a girl. These dreams were incredibly pleasant and a shock to awake from. In fact as I got older, I'd find myself each night hoping and hoping that I'd have another - anything to escape the harsh reality of the person I was becoming even though such dreams would always be shattered the following morning with a brief glance in the mirror. I entered high school a depressed, anxious, and terrified young teenager. I had major problems with my dad, was no longer performing well in school, cross dressing any chance I got and dealing with the shame of it, and utterly hopeless that my future held any value for me.
In high school I made some new friends in my honors classes. A few of them took me under their wing and helped teach me to behave "more like a man". I listened to them with earnest and during this time developed the person I refer to as The Actor. The Actor was the male me that could have existed had the real me never been so screwed up. The Actor learned everything these boys had to teach him and he became REALLY good at it. In fact, The Actor, ended up being good at everything. He was smart, funny, manipulative, he got girls, he skipped school when he wanted, and he was a fairly cool cat. The Actor went to school in my body everyday and made things bearable. Kids who once made fun of me now had to deal with the fact that The Actor was smarter, funnier, and incredibly more popular than they were.
The Actor, however, was just an actor. I watched it all from inside of him. Yes, he was me, but at the same time something so foreign. In the church we are taught not to wear masks as the anonymity they offer can make us into different people. I didn’t need a physical mask, I let my actor take over. My mother became fed up with him and his attitude and my dad envied him. There was one huge drawback to The Actor though. As popular as it made me and as bearable as high school was because of it, he was not me – not at all. I was this kind sweet little kid who wanted nothing more than to please everyone who delighted in self sacrifice and service! The Actor didn’t care about anyone but himself and the world loved him for it. I felt that I wanted to be known again, but fear overwhelmed me and kept me hidden. But in the darkness of my hiding place away from the world, my gender dysphoria grew like a plague to proportions I could never have imagined.
I knew at this point that my cross gender desires were not going to go away as they only seemed to intensify. They needed release and while cross dressing at first helped a little, but with my body so masculinized with testosterone, cross dressing only served to remind me that I wasn’t in the body I wanted. I had seen a television show where a boy had become a girl, and after questioning my mom if that could really happen, I became convinced that it what I would do once I was 18 and out of high school. This one thought seemed to carry me through the last year.
As I rounded out my last year at high school The Actor met a new girl to woo. She however proved not to be so woo-able. She was LDS and not at all attracted to some of my antics. I started to realize that she, unlike countless other people I knew, might be the real deal – a person of real purity, a person that wasn’t necessarily going to be attracted to The Actor. I wanted very much to be friends with this girl. I began slowly to shred the façade I put up, and did anything I could to help make her life better. I offered to take her home from class when her car didn’t start, aid her in homework, listened to her when she was down, and did my best to make her smile whenever I saw her. She in turn, for my 18th birthday, gave me a Book of Mormon.
Now the details of my conversion are important but not at this time. I will say though that I spent a grueling eight months with the missionaries battling over doctrine. The girl who had started me on the path was already out of my life by that time, but her family whom she left behind continued to aid me in the spiritual quest. In the end however, being prompted by the Spirit, I read the whole of the Book of Mormon (in about a week), and by about Jacob 5, knew there was really something to the book, and by Alma was converted to the church. I finished the Book of Mormon and prayed as I was taught to do by the missionaries and exhorted to by Moroni, and like lightning the Spirit came upon me strongly endorsing its authenticity. I was baptized into the church two weeks later. I was 18 years old, still struggled with gender dysphoria, still had The Actor to deal with, had parents and friends who thought I was half nuts, but I knew it was true – a testimony that would bear me up during the difficult times that were shortly to come.
*After Conversion*
The first months in the church were bliss. I had plenty of challenges with Satan seeking at every turn to tell me the church was a lie, but I kept him at bay, and even toned down The Actor. I felt more love and grew more than at any time in my life previously. I buried myself in the scriptures and other writings of the prophets and wanted to do everything I could to learn all I could. When it was proposed to me that I go on a mission once I had been a member a year, I was all for it and began from that time to prepare for the task ahead. All the stuff that had once been important to me started to pale and my entire life became directed toward serving a mission for the church. I got an amazing job for a high school graduate and saved nearly every penny so that at my one year mark I could have $15,000 saved for a mission – a goal I would eventually meet. My relationship to the girl continued after I joined the church, and though she was away at Rick’s College (now BYU-Idaho), we considered ourselves a couple. I finally felt everything in my life make sense, I could be my caring service-oriented self, and know that I was doing the Lord’s work!
So what happened to my gender dysphoria and my plans to become a girl at 18? Well, let’s say I put the plans on the shelf when the dysphoria took a back seat to my overwhelming drive to serve a mission. I still felt it, but often pushed it to the back of my mind like barring the door to an unwelcome guest. I had a specific goal now and believed that the Lord would make it go away.
As the time grew closer to putting in my papers, the dysphoria began to creep back into the forefront of my mind. Perhaps it was due to uncertainty of where I would be sent or the challenges I would face, or perhaps it had been ignored for just too long, but its presence began to make itself known to me and depression set it. At this point the church was totally unaware of my cross-gendered feelings as I had left out that part during the baptismal interview due to the shame and awkwardness of it.
I knew that before I could serve a mission though that the bishop would need to know about my feelings or else I would not reasonably (truthfully) be able to comply with the mental health portion of the mission application. I sat down with him and told him my story. That first meeting was such as blur of emotion for me. I was telling this bishop the thing I had never told anyone else ever and my emotions bubbled over. By the end of the meeting he decided that I had better put the mission aside for the time being while I worked through more of my feelings through the church counseling program while I met with him weekly.
I was crushed. Everything I had been working toward suddenly got a “delayed indefinitely” stamp on it. I went to the counseling sessions and went to the regular bishop meetings over the next few months. We didn’t seem to make any progress. They were still convinced I needed more time, and I didn’t feel they were really helping me. All of the confusion only opened the window for my gender dysphoria to worsen as the future became more and more uncertain.
What made matters worse was having to explain to my friends and other adults at church why I hadn’t left of my mission. My girlfriend, who was still away at college, began to wonder as well and even began to think that I might not go. She desired to marry a return missionary and if I wasn’t going to be one, then she might as well look elsewhere. I don’t know if that was her reasoning or not, but ultimately she did look elsewhere and left me. I was crushed even more as my world began to cave in around me. I didn’t feel I could tell ANYONE why I wasn’t going on a mission yet but it didn’t stop people from asking me or making their own judgments I felt.
I retreated from the world and from the church. I still went as I did before, but I became more passive and less anxious to do more than I had to. I stopped going there for comfort and support and turned somewhere else – a new discovery, the world of internet chat rooms and forums, a place where I finally met people who felt the same way I did.
*Before Transition*
The internet seemed to be a godsend. For the first time I got to interact with others who not only had my cross gendered feelings, but were my own age! These kids care from all walks of life and with different backgrounds, but they all had the same thing in common, each of them struggled with gender identity dysphoria. I immediately fit in. I got to know them and their stories and they mine. My story was an oddity to most of them as none of the were Mormon and most of them were in some stage of transition (changing to the other sex) with or without their parent’s approval.
Becoming an active part of this community filled a whole I had my whole life. I wanted to be with these people all of the time. For the first time I could completely cull The Actor, I could totally be myself, I could share my deepest feelings and be validated for them. I didn’t feel ashamed of myself. I started to neglect all of my real relationships with others just to be in the chatroom or on the forums with my new friends. I still went to church and to the bishop meetings but secretly desired to be home in front of my computer.
During this period I felt wonderful, but that wonderful feeling gave way to intense longing. I wanted to be myself with everyone! I hated being able to be so free online, then so stuffy with everyone else I knew. Even though my bishop knew, he didn’t count because he was telling me there was something wrong with me. I didn’t like feeling like there was something wrong with me! I decided the only way I could really start to break free of The Actor and to feel as free as I did on those forums was to start coming out to others.
I started with my closest friends, mostly girls. Generally it was accepted well and some of them who knew me the longest told me that it was somewhat expected. I was suddenly invited to all the things I never got to go to as a child, slumber parties, shopping trips, all girl gatherings, etc! It was heaven! I started coming out to my guy friends as well at the urgings of my girl friends. They took it less well having been totally consumed previously in their relationship with The Actor, but most accepted it and a new, freer me. I even came out to some close friends at church who, for the greater part of them, were puzzled at my feelings but more concerned about them than embracing. Naturally I started gravitating toward the friends that validated my feelings and shied away from those who were confused by them or felt them dangerous.
Getting this out in the open felt liberating like a big weight was lifted from off my shoulders, but it wasn’t enough. Finally people knew the truth about my feelings, but I was still a boy and the gender dysphoria made my ever aware of this fact. It was now six months after the time I should have gone on my mission with less and less hope of that now occurring so my mind began to turn to other plans. Encouraged and emboldened by my friends online, I decided that I would start down the path of transition as well.
At this time my parents were having to suddenly move to a new home due to some financial concerns. They, pretty sure that I wasn’t going to be going on a mission anytime soon, though unaware as to why, borrowed $9000 of the money I had saved for my mission to save them from bankruptcy. I took the remaining money and decided to move into my own apartment instead of moving with them. The move to this new apartment was specifically so that I could begin transition. I told my friends of my intention and while some cheered me on, others, namely my church friends, went into red alert mode.
They did everything they could to convince me that transition was the wrong thing to do. In the end they succeeded and I put my transition on hold purging (throwing out) everything of mine that had anything “female” about it, and even had a friend move in with me to monitor me, but seeing no potential for forward momentum in life or in the church, I spiraled into a deep depression and lost job after job and eventually was evicted from my new apartment.
When I returned to my parent’s house I felt I had lost everything. I wrestled in prayer with the Lord begging him to fix me – to take it all away! I wanted to serve a mission, I really did, but I couldn’t if I couldn’t get my dysphoria under control! I became frustrated for the first time with the church and with the Lord. I was in the worse depression of my life – I couldn’t transition, I couldn’t go on a mission, God wouldn’t take away the feelings, but the church would never condone my choice should I try to handle my feelings by changing my sex. It was at this point, I had to make a choice.
With a heavy heart, I bowed to my knees in prayer and begged God to give me a sign that everything was going to be alright, that He would take away my dysphoria, that He would make me a whole person and happy as a male in a male role. I told Him that if He didn’t answer, then I knew what the answer would be, and that I would transition and leave the church. There was no answer that night from God. I felt abandoned. I took comfort though in that I now had no shackles keeping me from transition. If God wasn’t going to stop me, then no one else had a chance of doing so.
*Transition Interlude*
Because this story isn’t about my transition, but about my relationship with the church being a transgendered individual, I will by necessity abbreviate this part of my story.
I left the church. I told the Elder’s Quorum to stay away. I told my church friends that if they wanted to remain my friends they wouldn’t try to get me to go back. I came out to pretty much everyone who didn’t know before only this time, I told them I was changing my sex. My mom embraced my decision and did all she could do to help reasoning that “she always knew”.
I started seeing a gender therapist to help me in transition, started on female hormones, and came out at the job my mother got me. I stated dressing as a girl around the house and sometimes out in public, and became active in the transgendered community in Dallas. My young body, still malleable to the effects, began to change overnight in the presence of the hormones and daily I became more and more passable as a girl. My hair grew out long and I practiced and perfected new intonations in my voice. Eventually I saved enough money to buy a new wardrobe and have an orchidectomy (castration) to remove the future effects of testosterone.
In about five months I was ready. I moved to Missouri to live with a friend from the internet and started living as a girl full time. I passed (was accepted as a female by the general public) almost instantaneously – so much so I accidentally convinced the GBLT youth group I joined that I was a young lesbian instead of a transsexual. I got a job as a girl.
The next few months flew by with complete integration into my new role and new communities of friends to find support with. Eventually I moved to Oklahoma to live with some other girls there and even eventually moved in with a genetic girl roommate. There I attended college for the first time, dated guys, provided for myself, and did just about everything else a girl does. I had made it. I needed only to save up the money to finish electrolysis (to remove what hair I had on my face) and eventually SRS (sex reassignment surgery).
This time in my life was one of trial but great rewards. I loved the person I was. My gender dysphoria subsided completely and I looked forward to a remarkable future as an intelligent, beautiful, college educated young woman, who intended to be married to the guy of her choice and one day adopt children with him. I yearned for that goal, I worked hard to achieve it, but with that dream came its own nightmare.
I wasn’t active in church, but I still believed in it. I had a powerful testimony and one unanswered prayer didn’t invalidate it. I still knew the Book of Mormon was true and that the church was where to find eternal happiness. I wanted my future husband to be Mormon and my children! I wanted to be sealed to them in the temple for time and all eternity! I wanted to be their mom and love them as their mother. But I knew inside that if I completed my transition that could never be. Even if my husband was a member, and even if my children did join, their mother could never go to the temple. Their mother could never be sealed to her spouse or them. Their mother would be forced to go to Priesthood and they would have to bear the shame of it all. The thought sickened me – I didn’t want that to happen to them! I thought that perhaps I just wouldn’t raise them in the church, but then knew the horrible blessing I would be withholding from my children and knew I couldn’t do it. These thoughts destroyed me. I wanted to hate the church, I wished I had never known about it, that it had never come into my life, that I had never met that girl, that I had never read the Book of Mormon, and most of all that I never had the testimony that came from that so very powerful, undeniable witness of the Holy Ghost. But I knew it was true and because of that, something had to change.
*Revelation*
It was an excessively cold winter night in Tulsa, the ground and streets were frozen, but I was a woman on a mission – I needed to contact the church. I needed to find out if I could still return to the church that I knew was true but do so as I was now. I looked up a local ward’s information in the phone book and called the church office. Amazingly someone picked up. I asked if I could have the bishop’s phone number as I urgently needed to speak with him. I didn’t tell the clerk what it was about or that he wasn’t talking to a girl. He gave me the bishop’s phone number and I quickly hung up and dialed him. He answered at home, and sensing the urgency, agreed to meet with me up at the church building.
I made a perilous journey through the ice and snow but eventually found my way to the building based on his instructions. I went inside to meet with him. He asked what he could help me with addressing me as miss. I laughed inside and then told him who I was. His eyes bulged and jaw nearly hit the floor as I told him. He stuttered at first telling me that I couldn’t have picked a greener bishop to ask for him from. My question was simple. If I wanted to come back to the church, what would I need to do?
He took a moment to collect himself and then with authority told me several things, none of which I expected nor wanted to hear. He told me that I would need to quit my job, leave my roommate (as I was living with a girl), change back into a boy, and go before a disciplinary council to determine the terms of my return. I argued with him, how could I do all that? I had a life here! Changing all of those things the first time took a lot of time and I was just expected to change back? How was I going to eat without my job or live without my roommate? I felt hopeless and left that night in a fit of tears. He wished me the best as I drove back into the night’s freezing cold. I felt it had all been a waste of time that God must not really want me back in the church, that I was utterly damned. The church had ruined my dream of a husband and children, and it sought further to tell me that the only way I could be a member of it was to go back to being a hopeless male.
I got home and locked myself in my room not speaking to my roommate. I cried for hours. Nothing was going to be fixed. Even if I were to do what the bishop said, he didn’t tell me that the same problems wouldn’t happen all over again. I was truly damned. I could either believe in the church and ultimately forsake my dream or convince myself it wasn’t true and deny my family the opportunity to be sealed anyway. I got on my knees.
I told God everything that happened with the bishop and how sad it made me. I told Him all of my concerns, my worries, but how I still believed, how I wanted to come back to the church I loved, but how I didn’t want to be miserable. I told Him that if I had to go back to being a male, that I wanted to die. I paused then asked if I should follow the bishop’s advice. A voice came clearly into my mind with great power and an undeviating message. “The way back to the church is paved before you take the first step.” I arose from prayer knowing I had received my answer. I had to follow the bishop’s advice no matter how hard it seemed trusting that the Lord had already paved the way for me to return even though I couldn’t see it. I felt an incredible sadness, this meant the end of my life as a girl and an uncertain and potentially very miserable future, but ultimately the path the Lord wanted me on, and I surmised that if He was willing to tell me to do something, then I knew, in time, it would become clear why.
*The Next Few Days*
Going back would be as difficult as going forward I thought. I would have to change my name again, come out all over again but this time to people I knew here. I wasn’t even sure if my body could pass as male anymore so extensive were the changes so it. I’d have to find a new job and a new place to live and somehow do it as a male. I decided none of that mattered, I just needed to go forward with faith.
The next day I called my job and quit on the phone. I told my roommate that I would be moving out and would somehow figure out a way to make up my half of the rent for the remainder of the lease. When she asked why I avoided the issue telling her it was personal. I dug through my closet and found the most male clothes I could fine. I put them on and pulled my hair back into low pony tail, the way the guys wear it, and didn’t do anything but pull it flat against my head. I looked at the mirror and sulked, it certainly didn’t look male, but it would have to do.
I drove to the store and picked up one of the Sunday papers and quickly started going through the want ads. I found a company, temp to hire, that needed phone customer service done. I drove to the company and went in to apply. In the most male voice I could muster, I told them my old name and filled out the application. While there I was eventually called in for an interview and even accepted for the job. They asked for my driver’s license and I began the process of explaining that I was becoming a guy. They figured that out already it seemed because it didn’t surprise them much. They hired me that day.
That night I went home feeling like I had won a huge victory. Within one day I was able to do a lot of difficult things, but there were still so many unknowns. I decided that I would capitalize on my new decision and make a few people very happy. I called up my parents and told them on the phone about my decision leaving out a few of the spiritual details. They were overjoyed and told me that should I wish to, I could always return to live with them. They even offered to pay my half of the rent to my former roommate should I wish to come back sooner. This was a tempting offer and it would certainly be easier to de-transition where I was already known as a male. I told them I’d think about it.
I then decided to call a close friend of mine. Several of my friends all worked at the same video store and were on the shift till midnight. When I told one of them, he immediately told the others. They then clamored together and decided that they would make a midnight road trip to where I was living, over 5 hours away, and take me back to Dallas the next morning. I was ecstatic.
They arrived that night, each of them expressing sincere happiness at my “return” and we spent most of the rest of the night and into the early morning in laughter. The next morning I explained to my roommate that I was leaving, my friends and I rented a truck, packed up all of my things, and moved back to Dallas.
I should note at this point that I knew my GID was not gone, I knew it more strongly at this point than ever before. I knew the Lord’s promise to me that the way back was paved for me, but honestly, deeply inside, I wished that the Lord would kill me. I knew the depression I once felt, and I knew that God would expect me to live the rest of my life “faithfully” as a male. I sincerely hoped that the “rest of my life” would be a very short time so that I could die a repented male without the pain of the dysphoria plaguing me. That of course, at least 8 years later, has not happened.
*The Road Back*
The next few months were not easy as I sought to reclaim my male life, but my friends and family did all they could to make me feel welcome. Looking back at this time I’m exceeding grateful for all that they did, but I made some serious mistakes during this time that would haunt me later. During this time, I was so overjoyed to be back with these people who loved me, and they so glad to have me, I never told them the details concerning my return. It was generally assumed that I went to become a girl, didn’t like it, and now returned. The whole subject became a source of friendly hazing as if it were some big joke like a college prank. In the end, I allowed them to believe that my cross-gendered feelings were gone, or worse, never existed at all, and that this “phase” of my life was over so as not to worry them, and partly because I wanted to believe it. I began to re-establish the role of the Actor.
Returning to church was far easier than expected. When I left, I left a lot of people who knew why I was leaving and I feared to return to my old ward. The week I came back, a new single’s ward formed and I immediately began attending allowing me to really start over again. I told the bishop about what I had been through and my desire to repent. He helped me start along that process by first informing me that I needed to attend a disciplinary council.
I had never been before a disciplinary council before nor had known anyone to ever speak of it so I didn’t have any idea what to expect. All I knew was that I wanted to repent, return to full fellowship, and was willing to do whatever it required to do so. So when the council came I was prepared to answer any charge they laid at me honestly and with sincere repentance. Without disclosing every detail I will suffice it to say that the disciplinary council was a wonderful experience but one that provoked a lot of thought. They asked me to consider the people I had hurt and how I had hurt myself. I had been a very public figure when I joined the church and a strong advocate for the church. My leaving it had left an impact the councilors told me, one that I would need to make restitution for. I meekly promised them that while I could not undo what I had done, I would best show my repentance by how I lived my life from this day forward and they will know that my testimony is true.
Apparently because I had not yet been to the temple and because I had not had transsexual surgery, and because they felt my repentance was sincere, I was only given a warning and asked not to take the sacrament for about three months. I was also given access to church resources to help me make the transition back to being fully male even though I never used them.
As far as my physical appearance went, I went to my original doctor who prescribed me the female hormones and he began me on testosterone to undo some of the changes. To be honest, I hated being on testosterone. Despite the relatively low dose, my facial hair grew out as it hadn’t before, I became a lot more unstable with regard to my mood, and I felt overwhelming sexual urges that had never been a part of my life. I stopped taking the testosterone after only three months, but the changes were sufficient that I certainly could look more masculine again should I choose to.
The next few years were great as I completely readapted into my male role. I was incredibly active in church, had a few jobs and went to college. I made new friends as time went on and further cemented relationships with old friends. In 2003, I met my future wife through the internet and she eventually moved to Dallas to attend college with me. Feeling it important to be honest in my relationship with her, I came out to her early on in the friendship. She accepted my past and even thought well of me for discovering many of the things I did about myself. I however put my GID in the context of being in the “past” though with little to no bearing on my future.
I should mention at this point that I attempted dating other members of the church, but so afraid was I concerning the fact that I couldn’t have children, and also my weird, and most decidedly non-RM past, that pursuing a serious relationship in the church might be fruitless and disappointing. Also I didn’t treat church as a social engagement and had practically no friends from there. I was all business in the church building oblivious to the desires of others for friendship with me.
So years past. I was a married male to a non-member, with a high powered job, still attending college, very active in church, many friends outside of the church and had the world (and myself admittedly) convinced that I was perfectly normal. But this all came crashing down when the GID returned. Don’t get me wrong, it had always been there, in the back of my mind at times, and would even cause me distress at times, but I most definitively put the nix on it over and over again suppressing and suppressing until I was truly in a state of denial. I felt that if it came out of the box I had pressed it inside, that it would again consume my life and I would lose my marriage and my happy façade of a life.
*The Beast is Back*
Last year, at the age of 28, my GID resurfaced with newfound vengeance and fury and sought to totally dominate me again. I told my wife wishing to be honest with her and she promised to help me with a follow up promise that if I ever transitioned, it would be the end of our marriage – an agreement I had made long ago to her. As we talked about my feelings over the following months we discovered many of the things I have revealed here. Specifically we discovered that the one thing that makes my GID worse is pretending like it isn’t there. So how does one embrace his GID without letting it overcome him? How does one live with the dysphoria without suppressing it and without transitioning? These were questions I was going to have to answer if I was going to make it.
I have now been on this quest for 7 months at the time of writing this, and I have not found the answers to my questions. I don’t know why I am the way I am, if it is a mental illness, or a birth defect. I don’t know if I’m spiritually different or special, or if I’m just a male with a condition. I don’t know if there are others out there like me and even if there are if they have found a way to cope. I have the whole of the transgendered community and the psychiatric authorities telling me that transition is the only answer while inside I know it is the only answer I cannot accept. How far can I go without transitioning? What can I do to embrace my cross-gendered feelings without hamstringing my ability to provide for my family? There are a lot of questions and very few answers at this point. I rely daily on inspiration from the Lord on how to make it without keeling over from the pain, and He helps me, I feel daily, to have the strength to make it one more day. I don’t want to live from day to day however, I want to find a solution, and if the book hasn’t yet been written on how to deal with transgendered feelings without transitioning, then I will to write it if it doesn’t destroy me first. I have every confidence in the Lord’s promise to me that the way back was paved before I took the first step, and am relying on it to save me.
Let me close by saying that Satan has been viciously attacking the church in my mind of late. I feel wearied by it, but continue to stand on my testimony. The only thing keeping me from going back to living as a girl is my testimony. If God is real, and the LDS church is His church, then He spoke to me when I read the Book of Mormon, and He also told me by the power of His Spirit to return to being a boy despite the uncertainty it would bring. But if He isn’t real, and if this church isn’t what it claims to be, then my faith is meaningless, and I fight a pointless battle within myself to stop from doing the only thing I know can help me – transition. Satan tries to convince me of this every day because it is so tempting to my carnal mind – but I have to stand strong. I believe having other members willing to stand with me can only help to serve as added protection against the fiery darts of the Adversary, but this is the trial of my faith, and ultimately I can only stand on my own testimony.
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