GID Inter alia

Snow in Texas and other updates

2010-03-22T05:06:00.000-07:00

Reposted here for update:

You'd think with Friday being a pleasant 70 degrees and Saturday the first official day of spring we wouldn't get 5" if snow on Sunday. What crazy weather.

My wife and I are building a fence for our [future] horses. It has been a fun process and the church is coming to help us dig all the post holes on Saturday. My wife has been getting more involved with the church as the missionaries have been visiting her regularly. We were fortunately blessed with sister missionaries who aren't afraid of my wife's snake.

I am still looking for another job as currently I am underemployed a the game store I work at. The newest opportunity I had the pleasure of interviewing at is my wife's company working as an HR representative. Were I to get the job, she and I could carpool and *gasp* actually SEE each other more than 2 days a week (right now we have opposite schedules). It is also about double the pay I make now. I have all of the qualifications so I should be okay, but then again, I've been turned down for easier jobs this past year.

That day of the awaited interview (last Thursday) I got a flat tire on the highway on the way there - fortunately they were able to reschedule the interview as I would have been 15 minutes late. The interview itself went amazing - all 1.5 hours of it. I figured the long interview meant it probably went better than worse because who wants to waste an hour and a half interviewing someone you don't like. I hope to hear back next week.

In the end if I get this job, it will mean my wife and I will be able to move forward having children. We have a doctor's appointment next Monday to find out what is left to do to start the artificial insemination process (cause as you all know, I am quite sterile).

Last week was SO busy I got off of my GID-prevention regimen which was a bad thing. It wasn't 3 or 4 days I was off of it that the feelings started to get at me - especially while my friends and I were at the Muse concert (they were great BTW). It ended with me by the end of the night in tears cursing my body and pleading why did I have to be born wrong!

Because I don't think you all know what my GID-prevention regimen is, I'll tell you. Since a lot of my GID triggers involve my body, I have to make sure not to let myself go. Even if I'm feeling alright, going a few days without doing what I can to keep it from going too "male" can make it really hard to get out of a depressive episode later if GID strikes. Once I'm depressed it is a vicious cycle - all I see is the terrible man in the mirror which makes me hopeless which makes me ickier and ickier, which makes the depression worse.

So to keep GID at bay, I stay focused on the fact I am not going to be the male-type-person I have been in the past, but be myself. I get up, read my scriptures for 15 minutes, say my morning prayers, work out on Dance Dance Revolution for 20 minutes, get showered up, SHAVE regardless of growth, do my hair complete with product (andro styles), shape and clean up my eye brows (if they get a little ratty), and dress nicely - normally something also andro. It takes me an hour and a half to two hours each day. It might seem a bit much, but when I keep up this routine, I barely feel more than a buzz of my GID throughout the day and into the night.

I also try to stay focused on a period of release or a goal. For instance, some MTF with GID will dress on their own or under their clothes to help stave off the effects. As we have discussed in the past, this has never worked for me. I must be perceived AS a girl or at least NOT as a guy to receive real relief. As you can imagine, with a regular job and such, this doesn't happen very often. I have to look for opportunities when it can. Coming up in June there will be a convention in Dallas. I plan to be ready to go full andro to this convention. I don't intend to try to pass as a girl or anything, but definitely in between. There will be a concert and dance there and I'm ecstatic. I love to dance, but I tend to dance like a girl, so being andro will help that a bit - plus I can dance with ANYONE!

Sorry I've been so absent! My world has been so busy of late!

My Transition

2009-07-22T11:28:00.000-07:00

To date I have written precious little about my transition itself or the reasons behind my de-transition except in a religious context (as in my bio). The religious context, though, is only a small part of the story, but one my detractors like to focus on. The whole truth, however, as to why I de-transitioned can be summed up in one word: deceit.

When I first started coming out to friends and family about my intention to transition, I used the typical transsexual shtick to explain it. I told people some version of the following: “I’ve always known I was really girl; I hate my body; I cannot stand living as a male any longer, etc.” This however was a lie. Why didn’t I tell the truth? Mostly because I felt it would be socially unacceptable to do so and I feared lack of support from those I cared most about in my decision.

The truth behind my reasons to transition would be better stated this way: “I’ve never fit in as a male physically or in the male social role. I am much more feminine than masculine and it would be easier to live life as a female than as a male. I prefer the female social role. I feel this option to become a heterosexual female is more socially acceptable than to live as a feminine gay man.” Essentially what I would have said were I to be honest was that I was becoming a woman because I didn’t want to be imprisoned in the male social role and felt I was a good candidate for making a passable female. I worried this would not be an acceptable reason to transition and my fears had a solid basis.

When I first entered into the world of transsexuality, it was through an emerging interface: the internet. Primitive chat rooms and message boards were my only connection to others who found themselves to be in similar predicaments. One of the first things I picked up being on these transsexual chat rooms and boards was what made one a “true” transsexual. Listening to the same mantra over and over again, I began to absorb it and even changed elements about my past in order to be match it. I wanted desperately to be seen as “real”. Telling people that I didn’t always “feel” I was female but rather was becoming one for convenience would put me in a negative box from which I might never escape. Previous to this time I lived in a world of rejection – mostly because of my feminine mannerisms and interests – and longed for belonging. The thought of being rejected by my fellow transsexuals was sufficiently motivating to deceive myself into matching my back story to the patterns they presented. Despite this, and the subsequent acceptance my story bought me, I couldn’t forget that it was fake.

So when I came out to others I used the same story I learned from other transsexuals feeling it to be story that would enable people to be the most receptive to my plight. The vast majority of people I came out to were accepting of me and my decision. I doubt their acceptance had much to do with my story and far more to do with the fact that most people in my life, specifically those who were adults (parents of my friends) assumed that I either was, or would grow up to be, gay. Coming out as transsexual wasn’t too big of a leap for them.

Regardless of their reasons for acceptance, I knew the transsexual community would only accept me if I stuck to my contrived story. It also didn’t hurt to validate them. In fact, over time I found the transsexual community to be a cesspool of people seeking validation – just like I was. My self-deception left an empty feeling inside – like I wasn’t completely whole. That hole left room for doubt to creep in – doubt that I might be doing the wrong thing, doubt that I wasn’t really “real.”

The easiest way to assuage that doubt was to talk to other transsexuals who were more than ready to affirm my validity as a transsexual. They would often share with me stories about themselves that they felt validated them as transsexuals, and I, often relating to such stories, therefore validated myself. In fact, any evidence a transsexual could conjure up, either from their own experiences, from the experiences of others, or from papers, essays, articles, and research that validated their existence as a “real” transsexual was often shared with others, who would do the same. Online tests and quizzes that validated one as female were especially popular as were studies that showed transsexuals as having a biological or intersexed basis for their transsexuality.

The more time I spent in the community (both online and later in person), the more I saw what I would eventually call the “cycle of validation”. Many transsexuals often doubted themselves, their validity as transsexuals, or the future that life would hold for them as women. Often older transsexuals seemed to be the first to comfort a younger transsexual when she began to doubt herself or bemoan her circumstances (be it affording surgeries, getting clocked, etc). They took on the role of what I can only describe as “mother hens” cautiously guarding and protecting her “chicks” (the younger transsexuals). They often helped reaffirm the younger transsexuals’ status as a transsexual. As an additional source of validation, or perhaps just fear mongering, the older transsexuals would often tell a doubting younger transsexual that life would be much worse for the younger transsexual if they quit transition (often using as anecdotal evidence horror stories of how many times the older transsexual quit transitioning/purged/married/divorced before they accepted transition and how happy they were now). Finally the older transsexuals guided the younger ones down the multi-step path to successful transition – where to get hormones, how to get your letters from your therapist, where to learn the female voice, and where to get SRS on the cheap. Usually the younger transsexuals showed extreme gratitude to the older transsexuals, but it seemed the younger transsexuals weren’t the only ones benefiting from this arrangement.

It seemed to me that the older transsexuals were often unhappy – even more so than their younger counterparts. They too seemed to have doubts concerning their transition – especially those who were still pre-op or had families. However, no sooner than an older transsexual would show this unhappiness than a wealth of her chicks would come to her rescue and tell her how much of an inspiration she has been to them. They acted as a cheerleading squad and validated the older transsexual’s life promising, even as they had been promised, that life would be better for them if they didn’t give up. And so it went, round and round, everyone validating and being validated by one another. Now perhaps this is the normal way a support group works, but it seemed peculiar to me often because of the hostilities that always seemed to lie just below the surface.

This hostility took two avenues. The first was a definitive dislike and envy shown toward passable transsexuals (particularly if they were young) who left the community. The argument, as presented by the older transsexuals, was that those who left the community only used it to get what they wanted but now would do nothing to further the community that did so much for them. While I could see their argument, especially as they put it, it seemed to me more likely that the frustration was over the envy the older, less passable, transsexuals felt toward one of their chicks who they groomed to the beautiful women they became, only to be abandoned. Leaving the community seemed to be the ultimate betrayal.

The second avenue hostility was directed at was anything that made a member of the community feel less validated. People, transsexual or not, who didn’t use the right terminology (such as referring to a male to female transsexual as “she”) often met disdain. Also people who questioned the source of their transsexual feelings or that of the transsexual community as a whole were rarely tolerated. Worse yet were those who claimed that transsexual identity was a choice, and still worse yet were those of a religious persuasion who implied the same. Often transsexuals would bring to the attention of the community any paper, research, or finding that they felt invalidated them as transsexuals so that it could be universally denounced.

I saw this validation and even saw myself using it, but what was my alternative? I had already engaged in such a degree of self deception that seriously questioning my motives at that point seemed incredibly counter productive. I rationalized that I was just afraid of the unknown and that my doubts would be quelled through transition. I should have known that too was a lie.

At the beginning of my transition I often interacted exclusively with other transsexuals. My experiences however were rarely positive. After one support meeting I found myself going to a restaurant with about eight other transsexuals who had received special permission from the restaurant prior to going. Once we sat down, I couldn’t believe what I saw. Most of the older transsexuals were making fools of themselves. We had male waiters and the transsexuals I was with were making incredibly lewd (and loud) comments toward the waiters. They made both real and implied sexual advances toward which made the waiters visibly uncomfortable. When the waiters were not present, similar lewd comments were made about other patrons of the restaurant (usually male), and unfortunately, in a voice that most of the surrounding tables could hear. I sat there in complete misery and utterly humiliated. I was trapped. Excusing myself and leaving would unavoidably leave a negative impression with the others. For one thing, I was much younger, only 19 and my leaving them might be interpreted as snootiness, and would not be validating to them.

That night made me question myself all over again. Was I doing the right thing? I obviously had nothing in common with these people! If they were “real” transsexuals then what was I? I rationalized away my fears however telling myself that I might had just met a bad group and reminded myself of the horror stories of those who stopped transition. Still, the experience left its mark and would be repeated throughout my transition.

I continued to transition. I kept up the appearance that I was like any other “normal” transsexual with all the exact same motivations they had. I told my therapist the same and had no problems getting hormones or my papers.

In time I went full time. There was no more validating of a time that I was doing the right thing than when I went full time. Why this was the case can be easily seen in this, one of my first experiences with being full time.

I moved out of state to go full time, living with someone whom I had met online, another young male to female transsexual. She was already living full time, had room for me on her couch, and got me a job working with her. My first full day there I was introduced to the local GBLT youth community which my roommate and her lesbian girlfriend were apart of.

I met the leaders of the youth group and everyone was really nice. Because I was new, I was told that I had to be interviewed. The women’s leader came to interview me. She asked me a little about myself, where I was from, how I found out about them, etc. She then asked when I discovered that I was a lesbian. I looked at her confusedly. I told her that I was not a lesbian, but that I was transsexual. Her jaw nearly hit the floor. She called to the men’s leader to come over and told him, “[my name] here, is not a lesbian, she is actually transsexual.” He looked shocked as well and asked me how long I had been living as a girl. When I told him only 2 days, he hugged me and told me, “Honey, you were born for this!” They both continued to insist to one another that they thought I was a lesbian.

Were this the only experience I had like this, I might have thought they were lying to make me feel welcomed, but I found over and over again, that people perceived me as female. This was never more evident than when I had to show identification. In the first few months of being full time, all of my identification was still that of a male. Most of the time I was questioned it was for using my “husband’s” credit card. Embarrassingly I would explain to the store clerks that it was actually me which usually resulted in a great deal of confusion and more explaining. Still, awkward as these experiences were, they certainly validated that I at least passed and was being actively perceived as being a natural born female.

During this time, I felt alive like I never had before and hopeful about my future. The things I wanted in life seemed attainable as I became more and more the woman I’d always desired to be. Life did seem much more manageable and I blended in well as a girl. This, however, brought its own problems.

I was used to people perceiving me as a girl. Unfortunately this often led to discussions that would invoke stories about my past. For instance, talking to a coworker about a movie you saw with your parents might need a little tailoring to not give away that you were a boy when you saw that movie. This was a common occurrence for me: tweaking and tailoring past experiences to fit my new image so as not to give any hint to my transsexuality. Unfortuately, this tweaking, felt like dishonesty. Here I was again, having to lie. Here I was, living the life I always wanted, the role I always intended, and seemed to have precious little holding me back, yet I was still lying. The lies were eating me from the inside. I felt my relationships could hold no real value because they were based on some sort of lie. At first it was easy to ignore because so many other aspects of my life were finally fitting into place, it seemed a small price to pay.

I had a few close male to female transsexual friends. One in particular was not an active member of the community, and it was to her that I grew the closest. We would often go to gay bars to hang out and meet guys. Neither of us were particularly interested in having a long term relationship with a gay male, but considering our pre-operative status, there wasn’t much of an option for relationships with straight males. During that time I met one particular guy whom I really fell hard for. He and I got along well and ended up spending a lot of time together away from the bar. He would often invite me over for dinner, or a movie, or just to talk. He was in his thirties, attractive, very kind and mature. He had a beautiful penthouse downtown overlooking the skyline. It was always nice spending time with him, and he seemed to enjoy my company.

We had been spending time with one another for several months. I really wanted to move the relationship beyond the friendship stage, but was waiting for him to make the move. He seemed to pick up on it and one night, after I made dinner for him, he sat down with me to talk about it. He told me that he really liked me a lot, that I was smart, funny, and beautiful, but that ultimately he was not attracted to me. He said he tried to imagine the two of us working out, tried to imagine me as a male but couldn’t do it. He said, “You are just too much of a girl, and I want to be with a guy.” I told him I was willing to postpone elements of my transition, such as surgery, but he told me that no matter what I did, he would always see me as a girl.

I left that night in a fit of tears. I was crushed. I began to look at my future and see it rather bleakly. If a gay male couldn’t accept me (who was still pre-op), how could I hope to have a successful relationship with a straight male. I felt the rejection all over again. I started to feel that I would never achieve my dreams, that ultimately I would be alone and sad. I then thought of the older transsexuals I knew and started to see why they seemed so unhappy all of the time. I started to have fears, real fears, that I would end up like them.

Eventually I got over the loss of the potential relationship and we remained friends. I continued to go to the gay bars but was far less forward with the men there. I continued to go to the transsexual support meetings and watched the cycle of validation. I continued to lie to those in the community about “always knowing I was a girl” and continued to lie to people in my day to day life about my past as a male. I continued to strive for my goal but felt nagging doubt that I would find the long term happiness I sought as a female, and much of this doubt rested on the idea that I would never find a man who would accept me. Despite my success as a female, something had to give.

I started doing the unthinkable. I started actually “coming out” to people in my regular life telling them I was really transsexual and that I used to be a male. Despite the initial shock shown by those few I told, they were generally accepting – if for no other reason than they found it hard to think of me as anything but a girl. I found it strangely relieving for them to know the truth. I felt like I wasn’t lying anymore (at least to them) and it felt good. I got to live as a girl, be accepted as a girl, but to not have to lie anymore about always being a girl.

I told my support group about my action and it was met with confusion and antagonism. They seemed upset that I had outted myself as if it were a personal blow to them. I didn’t really understand it. Fortunately not everyone felt this way. But everyone did feel that I was making a mistake. Most often they cited gruesome horror stories of what happens to transsexual women when they are found out to have once been men. These, as frightening as they were, seemed like they couldn’t happen to me, and fortunately, they never did.

Coming out to a few others helped somewhat with the constant deception, but what I couldn’t get past through the next few months was negativity about my future. I thought about my straight male friends back home. I thought about how they would react if they found out their girlfriend used to be a man. None of them would react well – not to the extent of violence, but they would all feel hurt and deceived. And there was that word again – deceived. If I was to have any success with heterosexual men, it would require deception. I debated at first telling them up front thus giving them the utmost level of honesty, but I knew that would turn off potentially accepting males had they just gotten to know me first. A bigger fear though of telling men up front was that they would be okay with my past. I didn’t want to end up with a tranny chaser, or someone who pursued transsexual women (though I knew a few male to female transsexuals who did and they seemed remotely happy). So if I wasn’t willing to tell the men I dated up front, it meant I’d need to deceive them. The thought was terrifying. What if we really ended up liking one another? When would I tell him? The longer I waited the worse the reaction would be, but if I told too early, he might reject me. And if he did accept me, would he want children like I did? Should I tell me children about my past? Would my children accept me or would they reject me as their mother? Rejection. Lies. Rejection. Lies. No matter what I did, it always seemed to lead back to the same place. I began to lose hope that the future held the value I once hoped it would.

I began to wonder if I should continue transition. It was becoming increasingly stressful. I knew that if I continued, more of the changes to my body would be permanent (especially if I got SRS), and as much as I hated to admit it, living life as a lonely, rejected, male seemed preferable (if only slightly) to being a lonely, rejected, transsexual female. At least as a male I wouldn’t have to lie anymore, and I could go back to church (something that previously brought a lot of peace).

These doubts culminated into action. I began to openly question my transsexual status. Whereas before I had kept my story to the status quo, I began to challenge it. First I did so in private. I needed to determine if I was really a transsexual or not. If I was a transsexual, then I felt I should continue transition for fear of repeating the same mistakes so many older transsexual had. However, if I were not a real transsexual, then I should de-transition and wouldn’t be doomed to a miserable life as a male. I began to analyze my motivations in ways I had always been afraid too.

This analysis led to experimentation. I would occasionally go to the bars or out with friends dressed as a male (or as male as I could get). I wanted to see how terrible it was. It wasn’t really all that bad, but I knew I couldn’t base my potential future life as a male on a few trips to the mall or to a bar. I needed something more conclusive.

Up to that date I had been a virgin. I never had sexual encounters with anyone (heterosexual or homosexual). At the time I was living two other transsexuals who were also part of my support group. The older of the two had a daughter from a previous marriage who came to visit. She, a self proclaimed bi-sexual, found me interesting and attractive. We sat watching a movie one night, and she asked me if I still had my penis to which I affirmed. We started talking about sex and it was uncovered that I was a virgin. She propositioned me. Having never had sex before and in the midst of doubting my transsexuality, in addition to being a stupid kid, I decided to try it out. We had sex that night, with her on top doing everything. Afterwards, she left and went to bed on the couch. I lay there feeling guilty and filthy.

All hell broke loose the next morning. The older transsexual I was living with found out what we had done, and kicked her ex-daughter out and threatened us both with violence. I fled my home and moved in with my close transsexual friend whom I mentioned earlier. I felt more lost than ever and didn’t go to work for a week. Obviously the sex hadn’t solved anything – just made me feel terrible. I never wanted to do that again.

I still questioned everything though, whether transition was right for me. I was lost in a sea of confusion – I had so many evidences for my being transsexual but also had many that seemed to point to the fact that I was not – the greatest of those being that my experiences seemed to differ so much from the other transsexuals I knew. I mean, I wasn’t even doing my transition the “right” way.

Right around this time, the 9/11 attacks happened. This provoked a telephone call from my parents who decided to come and visit me. I was very happy to see them and the visit overall was emotional, but rewarding. I missed them tremendously having not seen them since I started full time.

Reflecting on their visit I began to wonder if I should go back to the life I once knew. I wondered how bad it would be to see my old friends again and my parents as well. I needed stability and support and wasn’t getting it any longer from the transsexual community. In fact, the more I interacted with them the more I was reminded of how different I was from them, the more I stopped participating in the cycle of validation, the more they began to doubt me. My other relationships I made while living full time were fulfilling, but ultimately still fragile enough I didn’t feel I could rely on them like I could that with my old friends.

I decided to go to home for a visit and did so in male clothing. My friends, when they saw me, were ecstatic. We spent a great deal of time talking and stayed up all night together. I felt accepted, which offered a bit of confusion. On the drive home the next day, I thought about the experience. My friends obviously knew I was living full time as a girl, but that didn’t seem to bother them. In fact, they treated me very well, even careful to use proper pronouns even though I was dressed as a male. They seemed to accept me, not as the male they once knew, nor as the female that I lived as now, but rather as a sort of hybrid between the two. This revelation had important implications.

I stated to realize that I could probably live life as male again, however, it couldn’t be as a standard male. Living as a male had only brought pain and sadness but that is because I adopted all of the social roles expected of a male. My friends, armed with the knowledge that I did not see myself as male and preferred the female role, treated me differently. I could be myself with them in a way I never could before. It seemed reasonable that if I came out to everyone I met, from here on out, that I wasn’t a typical male and stopped trying unsuccessfully to adopt that role, that I could remain a male (avoiding painful surgeries and the potential future social problems) and still be at least comfortable.

This thought continued to linger as the time went on. I continued to live my life as a female for a period after that, but I continued to think about this extraordinary idea. It still wasn’t enough though to provoke me to de-transition. I needed one more tipping point. I needed absolution that I would make it as a male were I to de-transition. I needed to know, not think, but know, that I wouldn’t be back trying to transition again if I de-transitioned. That knowledge could only come from one source. I went to God.

It could be explained that I was merely looking for a reason to de-transition, or it could be explained as a miraculous occurrence, but I got my answer from God, and it was that I would find life bearable if I de-transitioned. So with that final motivation, I took steps to do so.

It has been many years since then. I am a male, but not like I was before. I’m much more open about my situation, about my interests, and my preferences. I’ve never been able to stop analyzing the nuances of my condition. When asked now if I’m a real transsexual, I reply with a resounding yes. However I feel fortunate to understand my own condition enough to have learned to deal with it. I realize this cannot be said for all transsexuals, and as such I make no judgment nor decision with regard to their transition status, my path is my own. I still remain an active member of several online communities, but often my story is met with extreme skepticism usually because of its religious overtones (regardless of how minor a part they played), and on more than one occasion I have been publicly scorned and rejected. Fortunately I no longer need their validation.

I have written this to explain to both allies and enemies why it is that I made the decisions I did. I realize that my enemies will only use it to further invalidate my claims that I am a real transsexual, but it doesn’t matter. I hope someone will read this, someone who needs to know what I have written, someone who isn’t looking for validation but is trying to better understand their own situation and will look for parallels in our experiences (if any are to be found). I hope my experiences will better prepare them to make their own decisions.

Let me end by saying that transition was not a mistake for me and I do not regret it. It was a path on the road to the person I have become, and I am better for having experienced it.

The Nature of Gender Dysphoria

2009-06-24T23:21:00.001-07:00

Considering my particularly unique situation as a person who struggles with gender identity disorder (GID) but who has chosen not to transition (change my sex) I have written this essay to share what I have learned about the condition and concerning my own specific techniques used to cope with it. Before beginning however, it is important that you first understand what it feels like to have GID.

Imagine that you’ve just had a very bad day – one among a long line of bad days. Perhaps the kids have worn you down or your job has leached away all your energy. Maybe you feel extremely depressed or lonely and isolated, or maybe you feel hopelessness seeking to overwhelm you. Now imagine you believed that your bad day, as well as all the bad days preceding it, were brought on by a single cause. Imagine if you believed the majority of your life’s struggles, failures, and disappointments all stemmed from one source. Wouldn’t you do anything to fix it? Wouldn’t you do anything to make the pain go away so you could live a happy, normal life?

For a person struggling with GID, the source of their problems is linked to their gender, or at least that is how it seems. “Oh that I were born the other sex, my life would not be so bad!” is a trite representation of a thought often echoed by the gender dysphoric. One’s sex might seem an odd thing to implicate for life’s shortcomings and tragedies, but for people with GID, this thought is so encompassing it drives us to ends that put us on the very fringe of society – those who would pursue changing their sex.

One would think that changing one’s sex, especially when you are a balding, overweight, male, in his forties would certainly create more problems than it would solve, but to the gender dysphoric, it seems to be the only alternative to a lifetime of continued misery. What is worse, we often are convinced that if we aren’t allowed to pursue sex change, that suicide is the only escape from the pain we feel.

Sex change is an incredibly difficult process with plenty of dangers including the risk of hormone treatments, surgery, loss of income and employment, and the looming potential to suffer violence. These dangers, coupled with the knowledge that one’s status in society will take a plunge and that one will lose or at least severely damage most of one’s personal relationships, makes transition a path only for the boldest or most desperate of gender dysphorics. As such, people who choose to transition normally seek out others like themselves to support one another during this incredibly trying life decision.

As with most outcast groups, the polarization of being with like-minded (or in this case, like-disordered individuals) can be empowering and endow one with a certain resistance to being given any advice from someone who “doesn’t understand you” and enable one to readily reject anyone who doesn’t totally accept him or her while cleaving to members of their in-group. Typically attempts to change the mind of one going through this process only results in further determination by the individual to continue in the path of transition. After all, to the dysphoric, this isn’t about social status, the health of their relationships, or income potential, it transcends all of those things – it is about being oneself; it is about being able to look at the mirror each day and be happy with the person they see; and for many it is about survival.

You might ask, but why change one’s sex? Isn’t there another way to cure one’s gender dysphoria? The reason is simply that no other method appears to work. The transsexual groups are rife with individuals who tried other ways to deal with the pain only to end up right back where they started and usually worse for wear for the effort. Indeed for one who is dysphoric it seems the only true fix is to change one’s body. Any other suggested method is often met with disdain. After all, the transsexual’s mantra is “transition or die.”

It was this way for me once. I was in the prime of my youth, a 19 year old male, trim, fit, and willing to do whatever was necessary to rid myself of my gender dysphoria, to end the source of my life’s problems, and to be accepted as the sex I thought I really was. I considered myself fortunate. Living in the 90’s, information about gender dysphoria, transsexuals, and sex change abounded. Online support groups and group therapy sessions were easy to find. Despite losing the support of many of my friends and family members, I considered them acceptable losses in pursuit of the only thing I believed could end my suffering and ever make me truly happy.

So I transitioned to being a female successfully and did so in about two year’s time. My dysphoria was basically non-existent, and I looked forward to a peaceful life as a bright, young, college-going woman who was ready to take on the world. I would ultimately take another path however. Due to some personal events that occurred in my life as well as some observations I made concerning my own GID, I began to wonder if it were possible to live life successfully as a male without transition.

Doing this placed me into a position to learn more about GID, more about why it affects me, how it operates, and most importantly, how to combat it without retreating into escapist activities or going back to transition. Not all of this understanding happened at once, it has taken many bumps and bruises along the way, and I have been tested many times even right to the brink of my ability to cope, but I am stronger for it and have a great deal to share now.

It is important to make note that all information detailed further applies only to my own understanding of GID. Some of the things I have written will fit for some dysphorics while others may feel my experiences to be completely foreign. Understand one thing though. With an identity issue, self-justification is of paramount importance. Challenging a person’s identity regardless of whether it is real or perceived is walking into dangerous territory for any individual. This goes doubly so for dealing with a person with an actual identity disorder like GID. Blanketly applying that which I have written to another person with GID is fraught with the possibility of alienating the person you are trying to understand. As such, take this for what it is worth, the experience of one person and what he has learned about his own gender dysphoria.

GID operates very similarly to a phobia. Just as phobias have triggers and are negatively reinforced by responding to them, so too is gender dysphoria. For an example take arachnophobia. This is an irrational and overwhelming fear of spiders. For the arachnophobe, interaction with a spider or spider like creature serves as the trigger which provokes the distress. The phobic individual then seeks to relieve the stress by fleeing from (or sometimes squashing) the spider. This behavior only further reinforces (strengthens) the desire to flee from the spider rather than be comfortable in its presence (the desired goal for the phobic individual). Only by being forced repeatedly and consistently to confront the spider and remain in its presence long enough to obtain some relief does one unlearn the connection that relief from the spider only comes by retreating from it.

This example works also with GID. Gender dysphoric feelings often have a trigger. For many dysphoric males, a trigger could be seeing a group of young girls at a restaurant laughing and enjoying “girl” time together. This scene provokes unhappy feelings of envy and sadness in the dysphoric male in that he is reminded of the life he feels he should have had and has been denied.

The feelings of gender dysphoria begin to come on very strongly as the dysphoric’s mind leaps into a cycle blaming one depressive attribute after another on the fact that he is male while at the same time romanticizing the idea that being female would bring relief from such pains. Just as with the arachnophobic, the relief from the trigger seems to come from escaping the problem. The arachnophobic flees the scene while the dysphoric fantasizes about being the other sex reinforcing the idea that his sex is the source of his woes while being the other sex would alleviate them.

It is important to note that triggers are not limited to external events. For most people with gender dysphoria their own bodies – even their reflection in a mirror can be a great source of discomfort. In addition to this body dysmorphia, triggers can also include statements or impressions held or made by others. The female gender dysphoric doesn’t want to hear how “pretty” or “feminine” she is no more than the male gender dysphoric wants to be compared to other males. Sometimes even the act of referring to the dysphoric by a gender-specific title like Mister or Miss is enough to provoke a rage of dysphoric feelings in the individual.

Unfortunately for gender dysphorics, there is rarely ever only one trigger and to make matters worse, one trigger can take on a life of its own. To use my example, what may start as a trigger related to girls laughing in a restaurant may be generalized to include seeing a girl at a restaurant then eventually generalize to such a degree that even the sight of a restaurant provokes unwanted dysphoric feelings. It isn’t hard to see how for the dysphoric, even living every day life can become debilitating.

In order to alleviate these dysphoric feelings provoked by these triggers, most people with GID take steps to assume, at least in private, the life of the other sex. They may find relief dressing as the other sex, fantasizing about being the other sex, interacting with others anonymously – such as in an internet chat room – as a person of the other sex, or by engaging materials that allow them to escape from their current sex. This is a vicious cycle however. Since doing cross-gender activities relieves the dysphoria, the individual becomes reliant upon them to stave off depression.

Unfortunately, merely “pretending” to be the other sex is not “being” the other sex and can lead to greater and greater efforts to live life as the other sex. In a cruel irony, even these acts of relief can become their own source of gender dysphoria. For example the male dysphoric who looks at himself in the mirror dressed to the nines realizes he is still only a male in female clothing and not the girl he’d always hoped to be which, in turn, further provokes his gender dysphoria.
This cycle, if left to itself, can only intensify dysphoric feelings until eventually they can become unbearable for the individual leaving them desperately seeking relief but running out of ways to cope. Eventually, this cycle and the depression it brings leads to only one unavoidable conclusion, “transition or die.”

So how does one break the cycle? It isn’t easy, but I have found that the first task in doing it is identifying one’s triggers. For individuals who have been severely dysphoric for several years, it may be hard to pinpoint what their triggers are because they have generalized so much. It may seem to them that everything provokes their dysphoria. Still it is important to identify at least some triggers and work on them one at a time. Once identified, normally avoidance of the trigger can serve to offer some relief. If seeing a women’s clothing store sets off your dysphoric feelings, then stay out of the mall for the time being. The dysphoric needs the opportunity to not be so consumed with their dysphoria so as to allow them to really tackle what triggers it.

Once a trigger has been identified and a level of self-sustainability has been maintained, it is time to work to neutralize it. Neutralization refers to the action of taking a stimulus that provokes GID and turning it into one that doesn’t. The way this is done is similar to how phobias are dealt with. When in the presence of the triggering stimulus, gender dysphoric feelings will certainly manifest, but instead of finding relief from them by escaping or avoiding the thoughts, instead begin to focus on something else entirely. In other words, pair the stimulus with a new response. For me, it involved telling the people I was with that I was feeling gender dysphoric, what was provoking it, and that I needed help to keep from getting depressed. Those with me would then take the time to talk it over with me or would seek to entertain me. Eventually, the triggering stimulus began to be paired with pleasant experiences of understanding from others and merriment rather than alienation, depression, and self loathing.

Of course, one cannot always be with others in the presence of a trigger. When alone and in the presence of a trigger where gender dysphoric feelings were manifesting, I forced myself to think about all the good things about my male life. In other words, all the stuff I would have to give up or leave behind were I to become a female. This focus on what I had (the benefits of my current male life) instead of what I didn’t (the benefits of having a female life) became the backbone to my coping strategy and my number one defense against gender dysphoric feelings. In fact, in the presence of some triggers, I automatically begin to feel grateful for the things I have in my life – completely the opposite of the feelings once inspired by the same stimulus.

Can this be done alone? I do not believe so – it would have been much, much harder without the caring understanding and open ears from my church, friends, and family who helped me – especially during the darkest times when in the grip of crushing depression brought on by dysphoria. That being said, if you are reading this know that you too can be a great ally to one suffering with GID. Having someone willing to listen to them, their struggles, and their thoughts, as alien as they might seem to you, can become one of the greatest weapons the dysphoric has in his or her arsenal against the debilitating effects of the disorder. The more time you take to learn about the feelings of the dysphoric individual, the less alone they will feel. Their feelings must not be in any way belittled or it may encourage the dysphoric to alienate themselves further. I know this from personal experience as some attempted to help me by making light of my feelings and it only provoked me to avoid future interactions with them.

While the causes of GID are yet unknown and treatment of it is severely limited, it is not necessarily a sentence to a life of misery. Regardless of the choice of the dysphoric to transition to the other sex or not, they can benefit from learning to break their dysphoric associations by identifying and systematically neutralizing their triggering stimuli. While this might not bring complete peace from gender dysphoria, it can go a long way to providing the relief the dysphoric needs in order to make decisions about how to deal with their GID long term while not engulfed in pain from their condition.

I Graduated College

2009-05-17T21:58:00.000-07:00

Today has been an emotional day. I graduated from college today after going part time for nearly 10 years. It has taken me quite a while, mostly due to the fact that I had to work the whole time, and due to the years where I was focused on transition in the middle there. A lot of thoughts went through my head today as I sat there waiting to receive my degree.

First, I thought of my mom. She passed away in January of this year. I am the first of my family to ever graduate college and my father, sister, and mother all looked forward to this eventual day. I take solace in that my mother knew that this was my last semester in school before graduation, but still it hurt to know she wasn't there knowing how proud she would have been of me this day. My dad and sister also seemed keenly aware of her absence, holding back tears when her name was mentioned or alluded to. These thoughts heightened my emotional levels, lessening my resistance to further depressing feelings.

Second, I sat in the audience among a sea of my fellow graduates. I thought about my name, the name I was to be called as I crossed the stage, my name birth name, and I started to day dream a bit. What if I hadn't de-transitioned? What if I had remained a girl? I imagined the extra work it would have taken to get ready that morning, what with doing my makeup, hair, shaving, and pinning my graduation hat to my head. I imagined what it would be like to be on the stage and hear my other name called as I walked across the stage. These thoughts were romanticized somewhat by the idea of walking across the stage to my mother and giving her a big hug. She was my biggest fan when I was transitioning - she was the one who knew me the best, the one least surprised when I came out to her, and the one who helped me the most as I made the transition to living as a girl full-time. As such, it is hard to imagine myself as a girl and not imagine her being there. I got taken away in the daydream, and while it was comforting, realizing it represented a reality that didn't occur, I began to feel more saddened.

When I eventually stood to leave the auditorium to meet up with my family, my thoughts were everywhere else other than where they should have been. I met with and hugged my wife, friends, and family who came, and drove to the restaurant where we intended to have a celebratory lunch. In the car I talked to my wife about my feelings, and about the sadness that came. She reminded me that I cannot be sure of how life would have been had I remained a girl and it is best to remember what I accomplished today. She was right, of course, and I started to feel a bit better. I love her very much.

The thoughts have still lingered in my mind as I prepare to go to bed, mostly because this day has been pretty emotional, but I'm grateful to have a place I can write out these feelings with people who understand them. I might have chosen not to transition, but there are still times I think about it. I love my mother, and I know she would have been proud of me regardless.

Time to focus on the future - the masters degree!

The End of my GID?

2009-04-29T22:39:00.000-07:00

A few weeks ago I wrote an important post recognizing that my GID might have a sociocultural and associative component. As I began to explore that idea, I began to see more and more how deep it went, how much it had to do with my GID, and how relieving it was to realize it. I looked at myself and asked who am I? What am I longing to be when my GID takes over? Why does what I want to be have to be female? I took a hard look at my internal identity, at my idealized self.

All I've ever wanted was to be myself. All I've ever wanted was to be accepted for the person I believe myself to be on the inside. I learned to believe as a child that I could not be myself because I was male. Everything that I thought represented masculinity was not me so I assumed I must not be male. That turned me thinking that I needed to be a girl to truly be me. Denying my true self and embracing a masculine facade only strengthened my resolve to be myself (which by that point I associated with becoming female). When I met others like me, I related to them and their stories, began to identify as a transsexual and took the path of transition.

I'm challenging this all. I'm challenging my base assumption. I realized I was wrong. I am not a female, nor should I ever have been. I am a male who has markedly feminine traits and who should be able to express them to be true to himself. Once I realized all this, I realized I needed to change my idealized self from female to male. As I've done this, as I've reinforced that ideal, I have come to peace with being male. I feel stonger, more powerful, more in control and more peaceful than ever in my life with regard to my GID and it is because I was honest with myself, did some deep searching, recognized its root, challenged its existence, and now can face the truth:

A male child who had tremendously culturally feminine disposition was trounced upon by his male and female peers as well as belittled by the adults in his life. He came to associate his natural state of being as not appropriate for a male and began to pursue more masculine behaviors and attributes. Realizing these didn't accurately represent him, he determined he must be a female. As the child grew up he forgot his initial reasoning for determining he must be female and began to believe it essential to his core until it consumed him.

In essence, I developed the need to be female as a way to be myself. So as long as I can be myself without being female, the need to be female is moot.

I'm learning that now, and I am at peace.

It is challenging though. I realize my need to be female results from a feeling that I cannot be male and myself. I must therefore make a conscious and definitive effort to be myself (show my feminine traits) as a male especially when I am afraid to do so - such as in the presence of a group of other males. If I retreat into my entirely believable Actor persona and find relief, I only reinforce the the initial problem - that I cannot be myself and be male.

It is like fighting a phobia. If I'm afraid of socks and run from socks every time I am presented with them, it only negatively reinforces my fear of socks. Only if I stand in the presence of my fear and begin to associate that fear with less fearful experiences will I truly overcome it, but it will take diligence and effort.

So it is with my GID. I must learn to become comfortable being male and being myself. If I can learn to do that without retreating into my Actor persona, I will beat it the need to be female. While it will always seem nice to be female, it will no longer be associated with being true to myself, and thus will not consume me.

Will this be the end of my GID? I cannot know - but it certainly seems an important step in learning how to live without transition.

Associations

2009-04-21T17:44:00.000-07:00

Recently I've been further analyzing my motivations, and the stimulus that provokes my GID (ok I always tend to do this) with my wife. I decided this time to focus on the incredible feelings of longing associated with GID. I looked specifically at that which I was longing for. As I did so, I had to admit things that were hard for me to hear - judgments I made within, and prejudices I held somewhere deep inside.

I would ask that you do not judge me too harshly for the things which I discovered about myself - aspects of them are shameful to me enough as it is. I share my discoveries with you all in hopes you can relate and perhaps this too will help you in understanding your feelings.

I was to be an incredibly sensitive child. I had a bleeding heart for nearly everything and everyone. I didn't meet a person who didn't get the benefit of the doubt, who wasn't worthy of total forgiveness, who wasn't someone I poured my heart out to, and who I wouldn't offer comfort and caring whether they asked for it or not. When met with those who didn't like me, or were angry with me, I was often confused because I didn't want anything but the best for them. I told people often that I loved them and did my best to show it. I would get overwhelmed at times, and even in my prayers as a child in the fact that I couldn't help everyone at the same time, that ultimately helping one person meant leaving another person on the wayside for a time. My prayers themselves were long because I felt the need to fit everyone in - as if their very welfare depended on my adding their names to my young prayers (I didn't grow up Mormon BTW).

I often watched television as a child, movies and kid's shows that often displayed good morals and positive human attributes. Often the attributes showed that most represented me, and those I most modeled were those portrayed by female characters. Specifically self- sacrificial female characters that seemed to find their greatest joy and purpose in giving of themselves wholly to the service of others. I felt these characters were the ultimate role model and most akin to my own heart. I wonder if this isn't where my female associations began - from a very early age. Associations referring to the fact that I took a trait that was my own, something essential to my character and then associated it to a feminine stereotype, rather than accepting it as gender neutral.

As I grew older, telling my male friends, or new males I met that I loved them, offering things like hugs, and reaffirming physical gestures were often met with terrible disdain. I lost so many male friends back then - people whom I cared so much about and wanted to see happy, but who I drove away by my outward gestures of caring. I was called names, told I was gay, and ultimately treated with contempt. The girls though were not nearly as offended by my actions, though some still thought I didn't act enough like a 'boy'. These consistent rejections coupled with my associations that such actions were appropriate for females, but not for males, I think is where my GID began - truly began. I felt that in order to interact appropriately with others according to my sex, I needed to act different than I was - so I became a chameleon and I lost myself in pretending to be like others.

I cannot erase the effects of the chameleon - it has become so ingrained upon my psyche - with exception of one condition. When I transitioned I dropped all pretense of my chameleon self, all traits of the "Actor" as I called him, and became the same person I was as a child, only this time was far more accepted for my outwardly caring behavior. In fact, when I transitioned, I was often told by friends that I cared so much about others that it seemed like it might be a farse - until they really got to know me and realized how real it was. I was asked in all seriousness by a co worker of mine who I comforted after he had a tough time at work one day, if I were really an angel - like a real angel. I laughed and told him no, but he told me that he would have believed me if I told him I was. I don't tell you these things to extol my virtues but to demonstrate as accurately as I can how I tend to behave when uninhibited.

I think I transitioned mostly so that I could become this person again outwardly, someone who I had long buried due to the pains and rejections felt being that person. Transition represented a chance to be an uninhibited me who wouldn't be met with comments that I wasn't acting appropriate to my sex. I realize how sexist this all sounds. Girls are not inherently the way I'm describing myself no more than boys are - it is just in our culture, it is far more acceptable to have a girl act this way than a boy.

When I transitioned back, I went back into hiding. I mean, I let a little bit of myself show through now and then, in times when those closest to me were in deep distress - so I developed close friendships as people came to know that I had their best interests at heart. However, I still felt like the vast majority of the time, and I still feel like this today, that the part of me I keep so sacred, the part of me that represents my true nature, I must kept hid from the world so long as I remain in my male form on this earth.

So, when my GID strikes, it strikes in such a way that: perhaps it is not so much I need to be seen as a girl (though that is how it feels), though that is a strong association I have with it, but it is that I want to be myself, the real ME, the one who is so buried. But I have so strongly associated this notion of myself and my true nature with female that the two feel inseparable now, and it is almost impossible for me to act on my nature while others perceive me as a male - some sort of mental block.

When I feel those terrible feelings of longing to be female that often accompany GID, it is always coupled with times when I wanted to be myself, but felt restrained. As such, I've discovered another one of my triggers.

So what does all this mean? Am I not REALLY a transsexual, but someone who is having a terrible identity crisis? Or does this cultural component play a part in everyone's GID?

Regardless of the what it means, it is real, and I deal with it today. Coming to this realization has been tremendous, and I feel a bit of relief, like... my inner self might soon be able to have full expression even while in my male body. Perhaps I can break those associations, and become an example of a male who epitomizes what are traditionally considered "female" qualities.

My friends have a nickname for me. Everyone here has heard of the Alpha Male? They call me the Omega Male. Perhaps I can define what it means to be an Omega male and pave a path of acceptance for others like me.

What Gay Marriage is Really About

2009-04-05T20:21:00.001-07:00

In the ongoing debate concerning gay marriage I repeatedly see two different arguments made by those on each side of the issue. However, despite these primary arguments, the issue is really about something deeper.

Anti-Gay Marriage - Its About Protecting the Definition of Marriage

The primary argument used by those who are against gay marriage is that that allowing gay marriage will redefine marriage. What does redefining marriage mean? According to this argument, marriage is a word that by definition includes only a union between a man and woman. By making this claim they posit that for marriage to be open to allowing same sex couples, then marriage's basic definition will be changed.

The argument against this proposes that marriage is only defined as a union between a man and a woman because that is the traditional definition but is by no means complete. Allowing gay marriage would not change the definition but rather expand its definition to include same sex marriages. This idea is evident in Webster's Dictionary which now contains a definition of marriage for both opposite and same sex couples.

Pro-Gay Marriage - Its About Civil Rights

The primary argument used by those who are for gay marriage revolves around civil rights. The argument is that by not allowing gays the right to marry they are denied various civil rights. Those for gay marriage repeatedly say same sex couples are being denied the right to marry and that by not being allowed to marry, the state or nation where they live will not afford them specific rights given to married individuals.

The argument against this is two fold. Firstly by the traditional definition of marriage, all gays have the right to marry – someone of the opposite sex – and thus are not denied any civil rights. This of course uses the traditional definition of marriage and is not how same-sex couples intend their explanation of their loss of their marriage right – they believe they do not have the right to be married to the person they love regardless of their sex.

Concerning the loss of state and national rights, those against gay marriage explain that a civil union has all the same rights afforded to it as a marriage (at least in California) and so there is no loss in civil rights between the two definitions.

Its Really About Validation

These two arguments are just surface issues though. Sure there is some weight given to those who are against marriage's redefinition just as there is weight to those who claim their civil rights are being denied, but that is not the real issue. The real issue is validation of lifestyle.

If gay marriage is allowed it validates the gay lifestyle in ways that civil unions do not. Marriage is the traditional form of union and that which is most widely understood and accepted. Having a union that is not defined as a marriage diminishes its value (regardless if there is any real difference in practice at all). Gays have been seeking validation for their lifestyle for decades (if not longer) and having their unions solidified by the traditional word, marriage, would represent a new shift in wide scale acceptance of gay lifestyles.

Those who are against gay marriage are against it for the same reason – validation. Most against gay marriage believe it to be fundamentally inappropriate (some say sinful) and not desirous for the population. They have various reasons as to why this is, but in the end, allowing gay marriage would further validate gay lifestyles and legitimize it for this and future generations (promoting more same-sex experimentation and general acceptance among the youth). For those who see this as an issue of moral impurity, validating the gay lifestyle is like endorsing the destruction of society – not an easy thing to ask of anyone who feels strongly about it.

There are idiots on both sides of this discussion, and so we need not judge the validity of the others' arguments by the extremists – there are bigots on both sides. But as long as we continue to focus on the more surface issues of marriage redefinition and civil rights, this debate will go on and on with neither side making progress. When we are honest with ourselves however concerning the true issue, it will allow us to move closer to understanding of both sides. Considering the extreme polarizing moral effects of this decision however, we can only assume things will get worse before they get better.

My Mission Statement

2009-04-05T17:16:00.001-07:00

There have been many who have attempted to help me see the light, see that I'll never make it as a male, that ultimately I'll lose to this and either give up my life, or transition anyhow. I've heard it over and over again and there is no way I can prove to anyone I will make it until I am dead. That won't stop me from trying. I'm doing my best to provide an example so people who deal with GID won't feel the hopelessness fostered by attitudes like those who tell me I cannot make it. I want to show that for some, transition isn't the only option, but that is gonna take, research, work, and a ton of trial and error. People can support me in my quest or get out of the way. I hope to find others who are undertaking the same path - that we might be able to support each other and learn how to deal with this together.

Coping Techniques to Date (4/5/09)

2009-04-05T17:12:00.000-07:00

I have been experimenting with coping techniques for 7 years now. If I find one that works, I implement it and use it in my daily life, if it doesn't work, I toss it out. What I have found, is that the coping techniques often work like prescription medication. Too much and it can have an adverse affect.

1) I have found out what specific triggers there are for my GID, and using learning-behavior techniques, have taught myself to no longer associate those stimuli with GID thoughts, but with more neutral ones.

2) I have done my best to focus on the things in my life that I have, rather than the things in my life I don't have.

3) I have learned that depression and other negative mental states provoke my GID and the GID persists long after the depressive stimulus is removed. Thus, I do my best to control and prevent depression and drama in my life.

4) I have learned never, never, never to pretend my GID doesn't exist. Doing so, even in periods where it is not bothering me as much, always stimulates the return of symptoms and they are normally far worse.

5) This goes along with #4, but I don't try to be anything I'm not. I stopped playing "roles" for other people. The roles invariably caused me difficulty as I often tried to appear as "masculine" as I could muster.

6) I am open with others about my condition. Being open with others allows for greater authenticity in the relationship and less tendency to want to meet their expectations of me as a male.

7) I have several very close friends (including my wife) with whom I can speak to at any time when I start to feel the symptoms come on. They all know me and my struggles and are there when needed - fortunately I'm relying on them less and less.

8) I think of all that I'd lose if I were to transition again and the pain it would bring about.

9) I present myself more androgynously in that I don't try to dress stereotypically for my sex - this prevents me from going into a role that is not conducive with my inner self.

I am experimenting with more techniques right now. I will tell you if they work and add them to my growing list. Others that are dealing with this the same way I am have learned some of their own coping techniques but I have not listed the ones that don't also work for me. For some that is part-time living, or dressing up and going out occasionally.

Reason for Gender Dysphoria

2009-03-11T22:22:00.000-07:00

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.

Spiritual Points from a Fast

2009-03-04T11:14:00.000-08:00

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.

Acculturation

2009-03-04T02:25:00.001-08:00

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

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.

I cannot help but feel there is some truth to this. I have seen
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

2009-03-04T02:11:00.000-08:00

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.

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

It seems this is what I really wanted all along. I don't want to be all male or all female but both and yet neither at the same time. Ultimately I want to be free of the stigmas of both the gender stereotypes. I want my female friends to not automatically exclude me from their traditionally femaley conversations, and I don't want my male friends to automatically assume I'm a freak for the interests I have. I want to be able to appreciate a nice looking guy just as I would a nice looking girl. I want to be able to wear my clothes however I choose, my hair long or short, my face shaven or unshaven. Of course, all of these 'wants' don't necessary mean I'll be a popular member of society, but I'm willing to accept it. I've done far more difficult things that society hasn't appreciated.

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)

2009-03-04T02:10:00.001-08:00

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.

Inter alia

My Meeting with the Bishop

2009-03-04T02:00:00.000-08:00

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 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

2009-03-04T01:58:00.000-08:00

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 did it! A New Start

2009-03-04T01:56:00.000-08:00

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.

Lies

2009-03-04T01:54:00.000-08:00

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.

Who Am I?

2009-03-04T01:30:00.000-08:00

*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.