Anne2345
11-25-2011, 11:05 AM
Throughout the entirety of my adult life, about two decades and some change, I have been in denial about who and what I am. Only recently have I pulled back the curtains of suppression and disavowal to view again my inner truth.
As a teenager, although I did not know the specific terminology, I knew I was transsexual. And that knowledge scared the absolute hell out of me. In my mind, I knew I must be broken, and I was convinced that this made me an abomination of society.
I hurt much. I did all I could do to alleviate the pain, and to hide from myself and others. But at the core of my being, I wanted and needed to be a woman. In this, I wanted my own breasts, and I wanted my own vagina. I did not want my penis, and I did not want the male body that I had.
Eventually, my efforts at self-deceit and denial began to crumble. The more I thought about myself, the more I hated myself. I did not want to be me. I was not right. I wanted only to be normal, but I was anything but.
At the time, I felt so alone and isolated. I desperately needed help, but I did not know who to turn to, so I turned to no one. Ill-equipped to handle such a burden, I began to hurt myself, and place myself in risky situations where survival was anything but assured. Ultimately, I placed a loaded pistol to the side of my head, with my finger on the trigger. I foolishly believed that the only way to end the pain and suffering I experienced was to end my life.
Obviously, and quite thankfully so, I did not pull the trigger. But I wanted to sooooooo much, that this in and of itself profoundly and fundamentally changed how I perceived and viewed my life.
In this, I knew I was f*cked up. I knew if I changed nothing, that my journey would end quickly thereafter.
So I did the next best thing - I found a new escape. I left my home town and went to college in another state. I went to a state I had not been before, to be among people I had not previously met or known. I started anew, and left my previous life behind. I did not contact my old friends or high school classmates. To this day I still have yet to contact any of my old friends, nor do I have any desire to do so. That life is long dead and past.
With one exception. That which I ran away from, that which I have hidden from myself for all of these years, the truth about myself – it is back. I am who I am. I am what I am. I am transsexual. I have denied it and myself for much too long, and I can deny it no longer.
Acknowledging this simple truth, however, has relieved a massive burden from my soul. Although I recognize that the truth may be simple, I am no fool. I do understand that this has great potential to very much complicate my future. I will worry about that later, though, and for now, just enjoy the basic, life-sustaining exercise of simply breathing easy. In fact, perhaps this is truly the first time I have ever breathed easily, and I must admit, it is nice to do so . . . .
But the thing about this that gets me the most now is how did this happen? I simply cannot wrap my head around the fact that I have suppressed and denied this part of myself for so long. How is it even possible that I did this? Through therapy, research, and introspection, I “get” how this has happened. But this is something that happens to other people. Not me. And yet, I have let this issue mercilessly and methodically strip my mental well-being and sanity away both then and now.
I recognize that no easy answers, if any answers at all, are forth coming. I also recognize that I probably should not dwell on this. But I keep going back to it. I suppose, given everything, it’s kind of hard not to dwell on it, if that makes sense . . . .
Life can be bizarre, huh? Absolutely, completely, totally bizarre . . . .
As a teenager, although I did not know the specific terminology, I knew I was transsexual. And that knowledge scared the absolute hell out of me. In my mind, I knew I must be broken, and I was convinced that this made me an abomination of society.
I hurt much. I did all I could do to alleviate the pain, and to hide from myself and others. But at the core of my being, I wanted and needed to be a woman. In this, I wanted my own breasts, and I wanted my own vagina. I did not want my penis, and I did not want the male body that I had.
Eventually, my efforts at self-deceit and denial began to crumble. The more I thought about myself, the more I hated myself. I did not want to be me. I was not right. I wanted only to be normal, but I was anything but.
At the time, I felt so alone and isolated. I desperately needed help, but I did not know who to turn to, so I turned to no one. Ill-equipped to handle such a burden, I began to hurt myself, and place myself in risky situations where survival was anything but assured. Ultimately, I placed a loaded pistol to the side of my head, with my finger on the trigger. I foolishly believed that the only way to end the pain and suffering I experienced was to end my life.
Obviously, and quite thankfully so, I did not pull the trigger. But I wanted to sooooooo much, that this in and of itself profoundly and fundamentally changed how I perceived and viewed my life.
In this, I knew I was f*cked up. I knew if I changed nothing, that my journey would end quickly thereafter.
So I did the next best thing - I found a new escape. I left my home town and went to college in another state. I went to a state I had not been before, to be among people I had not previously met or known. I started anew, and left my previous life behind. I did not contact my old friends or high school classmates. To this day I still have yet to contact any of my old friends, nor do I have any desire to do so. That life is long dead and past.
With one exception. That which I ran away from, that which I have hidden from myself for all of these years, the truth about myself – it is back. I am who I am. I am what I am. I am transsexual. I have denied it and myself for much too long, and I can deny it no longer.
Acknowledging this simple truth, however, has relieved a massive burden from my soul. Although I recognize that the truth may be simple, I am no fool. I do understand that this has great potential to very much complicate my future. I will worry about that later, though, and for now, just enjoy the basic, life-sustaining exercise of simply breathing easy. In fact, perhaps this is truly the first time I have ever breathed easily, and I must admit, it is nice to do so . . . .
But the thing about this that gets me the most now is how did this happen? I simply cannot wrap my head around the fact that I have suppressed and denied this part of myself for so long. How is it even possible that I did this? Through therapy, research, and introspection, I “get” how this has happened. But this is something that happens to other people. Not me. And yet, I have let this issue mercilessly and methodically strip my mental well-being and sanity away both then and now.
I recognize that no easy answers, if any answers at all, are forth coming. I also recognize that I probably should not dwell on this. But I keep going back to it. I suppose, given everything, it’s kind of hard not to dwell on it, if that makes sense . . . .
Life can be bizarre, huh? Absolutely, completely, totally bizarre . . . .