Four months ago, I screwed up enough courage to start asking myself some hard questions about who I am.
As I learned to be more and more honest with myself, I came to the realization that I've been afraid since I was 4 years old, and depressed since puberty.
Fear had guided and directed my entire life. I avoided things that I liked because of it. I did things I didn't like because of it. Big things and small things, everything I did or didn't do was dictated by being massively afraid.
I decided a month ago to stop letting the fear rule my life. It's not easy, and sometimes I still hold back because of it, but I'm learning and I'm getting better. Last night, I chose not to write this post because I was afraid. Today, I'm still afraid, but I'm doing it anyway. This is a small thing, practically inconsequential, but it's a step in learning to overcome the fear.
I've been seeing a mental health professional, who specializes in gender identity. I've been officially diagnosed with gender dysphoria, and my therapist believes that medical intervention is necessary and beneficial. To address that, I got my first physical in 20 years on Monday - specifically to see if there might be other physical health issues that would prevent me from starting HRT. I'm a little fat, but otherwise healthy.
My first endocrinology appointment is coming up on November 24th, with an endo that my GP verified as one who prescribes feminizing hormones to MTF transitioners.
The timeline for progress that I've agreed to with my wife has me waiting to start HRT until December 17th. The week before Christmas. Our reasoning for this date is that she wants me to wait as long I can, and I want to try to align my mental state in time for the big holiday. I recognize that my mileage will vary, but the anecdotal data I've read says that it usually takes about a week to start feeling the effects, for those that will. If it takes longer, so be it.
I'm out to my parents. I'm out to my friends. I'm not out to my brothers yet, because I'm convinced (and afraid) that one of them will try to "help" by outing me to someone who is farther down the timeline.
I'm not out to anyone in my wife's family. The plan is to tell her sister and parents before Thanksgiving. Her extended family, aunts, uncles, cousins, etc, don't have a specific date for coming out, but we've agreed that it will be between January and April.
My children (16, 4, & 2, and will be 17, 5, & 2 at my coming out), will be told at the end of this school year, in June. My oldest is being pushed back that long because of my history with his mother, who is not my wife. My other children are waiting, because my 4 year old attends a faith-based preschool, and she likes to tell everyone everything, so we're waiting until she's out of it, so we can try to avoid the potential religious backlash.
I will be full time by mid June. And I am very afraid.
The fear that I've carried with me my entire life hasn't gone away. It may never go away. What I'm doing now is just taking its ability dictate my actions. Yes, some of my plans are being influenced by it, and even slowing me down, but I'm moving forward regardless. I'm making progress. Tempered with caution.
I'm not posting to get a hug, though I'd be lying if I said I didn't want one. I'm not posting to get validation that I cannot find elsewhere, because I am getting validation from many sources. I'm posting because this is what I'm going through, this is my experience, and I want to share it. And I'm posting because I'm afraid of posting, and I'm trying to tell my fear that it no longer has control over me. It may always be in my life, but it can't tell me what to do anymore.
So make of this what you will, whether that's calling me a fake, or saying I'm not X enough to be here, or if my experience is something that resonates with you, something you share with me.
I love being here and reading of your experiences. I love seeing my feelings being written by other people. I identify strongly with Donna's left-handed post, and with Melissa's tuxedo at the beach analogy, and Robin's being stuck in a man suit. I love to read about your successes, and I cry to read of your difficulties. I feel a kinship with my fellow posters, even if I disagree with some opinions, but that's life.
There's a huge range of experience here that I can draw from to inform my conclusions about where I'm going in my life, but at the end of the day, it IS my life, and I'll do what I need to do to live it authentically, and hopefully someday, happily.
And I hope that we can all get to that point: happy. Regardless of which or how many steps you take, or what you call yourself, or what other people have to say about it, I hope that you will be happy. And you, and you, and especially you.
