Thank you for this thread. It’s eye-opening how much unwanted ignorance I have. I’m grateful for you opening up to us, and I’m deeply thankful that something stopped you from taking that awful final step.
It was a combination of random chance and OCD that stopped me.
To all appearances I had everything. Like I said, a kind and smart and beautiful wife who supported me as a girl and supported transition 100%, a great career at a job I genuinely love doing, enough money I never needed to work again at only 43 (as in, I could have put food on the table and kept the lights on, not retired on a gold course), a safe warm house in a nice neighborhood, just…nothing really wrong, you know?
Except for me.
Every year there was some excuse not to transition. At first it was because I would have been homeless. Then when Fierra moved from the UK here she was out of work, so if I lost my career she would have been screwed too. Then there was worry about the family. And then finally there was a crushing, long-term despair settling in of being caught in a cage, where you hold the key in your hand, but you’re too afraid to use it.
Then a strange combination of resignation and sadness, along with a tiny core of me that wanted out, took over.
All my life, I felt like I had two guiding movements - not like MPD, but like I could hear two feelings inside me. I called them the boy and the girl. The first one to appear was the girl, probably because genetically and physically I’m more girl than boy. But the boy came soon after, reluctantly. The boy didn’t want to be there, but had to be there in order for us to survive. The girl had to stay hidden but gave me inner comfort, and the boy didn’t want to be there, and kept asking “can I leave now? I don’t belong here. Let me go.”
And the girl kept saying “no, patience, some day we will be safe enough where I can take over.”
And so it went for decades, absolute fucking decades. The boy in despair wanted to die, very badly. I was almost palpable. By my 30’s, every day the boy would ask “send me away or let us die.” and the girl would say “no, stay the course. Eyes on the prize. Someday you can go away and rest.”
This and my other struggles made me irrational. I had serious mood swings, could flash to anger and rage, and then swing back to stability and reason. Some of you saw it on the SDMB. One hour I could be tearing someone apart in a debate, then the next hour extending an olive branch. On my message board people left because my personal journal thread was often filled with 75% depression. I was able to keep things under control at work, since not doing so meant unemployment, but it got to be more and more difficult. I could flash with anger at subordinates - or superiors - who did boneheaded things. I had a key to a private room - a special storage room, left over in construction, that as far as I knew only one other person had, and it was almost never used. I could leave during the day, go to that room, and cry until I could face work again. No one ever the wiser.
And on that one day in July I woke up, and the boy asked “is it time now? Can we finally die?” and the girl - I could almost hear the sigh of submission and relief - “why not. I’m never going to be me. It’s over.” So I decided to kill myself that morning, early. But the thing is, even though I was all ready to do it, I dithered over where at the lake to do it. By the lake, where I could watch the rising sun, or in a wooded area where I had played as a kid almost 35 years earlier? I weighed the pluses and minuses of each, while I got dressed and got ready to go out, and took too long.
You may think I was subconsciously stalling. Maybe I was, but at the time I didn’t think I was. I was just being methodical. I took off my wedding ring, and took all the cash and credit cards from my wallet, so if someone found me and wanted to rob me, all they’d find is a drivers license and business cards. I didn’t write a note - how could I? Fierra knew everything there is about me - we share everything, we have no secrets. She would know, she knew I was getting worse and worse. She also knew I loved her more than anything.
This is what is so stupid about this whole thing - somehow, you get in a mindset of “dying is worse than public ridicule and unemployment.” But gender dysphoria is huge. It’s crushing and pervasive. I had been put on a lot of medicines, but just as the literature tells, there is no pharma fix for gender dysphoria. You may as well give Prozac for a broken leg.
I took so long in my plans that for some reason, despite the fact that she always slept way late on Saturdays, Fierra got up extra early, came down and hugged me, and looked into my eyes and said, exact words, “good morning, my beautiful wife!” And I knew then that it wasn’t happening that day. But I figured - OK, in a week, or the next. Nothing will change, and the lake and the gun aren’t going anywhere.
Somehow, some way, Fierra realized that I had hit rock bottom. We are so close. closer than any two people I can imagine can be, and somehow she convinced me to give talking to a gender therapist one more try. So I went to the best one in the area, took my medical records showing what I was, and within 15 minutes, no more, the psychologist said “oh my God, we need to save your life.” She wrote out a letter for hormones in 15 minutes of seeing me, and talked to me and somehow, some way, convinced me to try the hormones. She said “go to this doctor, she’s the best in the region for trans and intersex people, and she will help you.” By the end of the hour the therapist hugged me and told me “don’t worry. We are going to save you, and you will blossom, and you will be whole and happy.”
Somehow, I left the office for the first time in years - decades - with a spark of hope. I tiny one which was so fragile and so weak, but there it was. I phoned Fierra from the parking lot and told her I was going to try.
Shortly after I met the doctor, who unlike the others was incredibly kind - she specializes in people like me, and she gives us carte blanche. For example, when I called her number, her receptionist said:
“I’m sorry, the doctor is not taking any new patients, and even if she was she’s booked up for 6 months.”
“I was told to tell you I’m a new transgender patient.”
Pause. “OK…can you come in this afternoon? No? Just tell us when you need to come in, and we’ll find a hole in the schedule.”
I got the hormones, and wondered how they could help me. I already had a high estrogen level, just not high enough. So I was really doubtful, almost contemptuous - like an anti-placebo effect. But that spark of hope was still brighter and more steady, so I took them.
The first few days nothing really happened. And I said “huh, yeah, this sucks.” But on the morning of the 5th day, I woke up at exactly 6:00am, and sat bolt upright in bed. Totally wide awake.
And everything was quiet. Peaceful. It was the first morning in…30+ years I had not woken up feeling like “oh shit, I’m still alive. I hate myself. I hate my freak body. God, why did you fuck up making me? Got tired halfway through and stopped? I wish I was dead.” Instead, I woke up with total alertness, but total peace. And I sort of looked around the room like I was seeing everything for the first time in my life. And then I started to get ready for work, and everything was just, well, awesome.
At some point I said to myself “is this what it’s like to be normal? To just wake up some days, and you don’t hate anything? You don’t want to die? You just…want to be?” And then it was like I was on a drug. “OMG - isn’t coffee AWESOME???” “Driving to work is so much fun! Cars are AWESOME!”
And so forth. It was like the stereotypical religious experience. And it got better, and went on for about 4 months, until my body adapted to the hormones, and then I settled into a more normal mood. But everyone noticed I was happy all the time, and nothing could challenge or beat me.
With gender dysphoria, depression is much more profound that just about anything. You can’t even compare it to being lesbian. For example, if you are a lesbian who is out, and your family, friends, work, church, and spouse all accept and love you, then everything is cool, right? But if you’re intersex or trans, then even with all those things, you cannot accept yourself - the cruelest “enemy” of all. So even post-hormones, there are still transpeople who will kill themselves.
In the last 3 months, just in my local community, I know of about 20 suicide attempts or near-attempts. One has tried twice. About half are on hormones. I know of no post-op women locally who have attempted suicide, although I do know of several who are depressed much of the time, mainly because they lost their job and family as a result.
Transgender people are at risk. Hormones and counseling will greatly, but in the end most of us need surgery to survive. So we can feel whole and complete. This is the one place where transmen take it in the shorts, so to speak - it’s very difficult to make a penis, whereas making a full-functioning vagina has been done tens of thousands of times. Perhaps more than 100,000. I don’t honestly know if there is a good count. And the surgery is incredibly expensive for transmen even when it works - up to or more than $100,000.
Intersex and transsexual people are at the same time some of the strongest and most resilient, and yet at the same time the most at-risk people I’ve ever met. Were not monsters, we’re not here to steal your babies or shit on the American flag. We are people who were dealt a bad hand at birth that would floor most folks if it was dumped on them suddenly, who have dreams which are simple. Transwomen dream of going to work, going shopping, hanging out with friends, and existing in society with the simple courtesy of “ma’am.” Transmen dream of the same, but with a “mr.” When I talk to my sisters of their dreams and hopes, they are simple and poignant. “I want to one day wear a white dress and walk by the lake, and not have anyone stare at me.” “I want a job where people call me ‘Sue’ and I blend in.” “I want to be a mom and raise my children.” “I want to forget about my gender completely, just know fundamentally without thinking about it that I’m a girl and everyone else sees the same.” “I want to go to church and be accepted and loved by the pastor and my friends.” “I want to meet a man who is kind to me, and loves me, marry him, and grow old with him.”
We don’t want to win the lottery. We don’t want to flip Society upside down. We aren’t doing what we do to affront you. When conservatives rant and rail against us as freaks that want to spy on or rape women, they are being truly evil. When people online claim that somehow we are somehow inconveniencing them by merely existing as our proper gender, they are hiding their hatred behind a thin veil.
Many of you reading this are parents. You want to do me and my people a good turn? Talk to your kids. Tell them about my people. Tell them that we’re just women and men, boys and girls, who want to live and love and work to make the American dream happen for all of us. Teach them not to mock us, fear us, hate us. Describe to them how horrible gender dysphoria is, and that they should give us a hand - say something nice to one of us if the occasion arises. If you see us being bullied or harassed, do something.
Tell your daughters that the transgirl who is using their bathroom is a kid like them struggling to survive each and every day. Treat her like a girl, treat her with respect, because her chips are down, and you will likely never find a more appreciative friend. Tell your sons that the transman on their baseball team is just a kid that wants so much to be normal and fit in and have friends. He’s there to play hard and do your gender credit. If you are Christian, remember Matthew 25:40: "The King will reply, ‘Truly I tell you, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ " Change in Society normally starts with the children, the youth, and if they learn to be tolerant, patient, accepting, loving, so thus will our Society be in the end.
This is the final frontier of civil rights. I do what I can - I speak, I counsel, I give money and time, I meet the haters face-to-face and I don’t back down. And I never go stealth to hide in shame and fear. No, I don’t wear a label on my Alex Marie suits, but if someone asks “I heard you were a transsexual woman?” I smile and say “YES I AM!”
Una - that is powerful - must be some dust in the room - Thank you for sharing and for this thread.
Yeah - fucking allergies. I hope this comes off as supportive, coming from a cisgendered guy, but you know the joke of some years standing where gays and lesbians get a cake when the come out - trans people should get a medal. Thank you for making the right choice for you, and the rest of us. Thank your wife for being there for you at the right moment (as well as every other moment). I am so glad you are with us, and hate to think about a world without you.
I’m a little confused by this:
Am I understanding this correctly? You were born female but had some physical issues that needed to be corrected by surgery? Or did you start out completely as a guy? I think I missed something somewhere.
I think it’s telling that in this poll 92% of the cis-women responding to the poll said they did NOT have an issue with sharing a bathroom with a transwoman. Only 4% were definite about having an issue, the others were uncertain about the issue or had a qualification to their answer. Note that the poll specified this was for pre-op transwomen, that is, transwomen who possessed a penis.
It would seem that transwomen using the Ladies’ is much more a problem FOR MEN than for women of any sort. Interesting, isn’t it? After all, men are the demographic with the least legitimate concerns and rights regarding the human waste facilities designated as belonging to women.
I can’t help but think “OMG! Transwomen in the girls room!” is a hang-up for men. Why is that? Do they think that transwomen are somehow gaining access to “their” women? What the hell do they think goes on in the ladies’ room?
It reminds me of another message board I frequent. It’s a board heavily dominated by young men and eventually the women of the board were given their own sub-forum. Oh, the hew and cry! OMG! And from various comments by the young men you’d think the girls-only forum was a hot bed of lesbian sex and sexy lingerie photos. In reality, the threads tend heavily towards the discussion of when to finally throw out the “period panties”, pregnancy-induced hemorrhoids, and bitch-fest about menstrual and menopausal symptoms. About as far from sexy as you can get and, honestly, stuff men really aren’t interested in hearing about, much less discussing.
Interesting enough, the “girls’ only” forum welcomes transwomen, even pre-op and some of their discussions about their issues have been enlightening to us cisgirls. I had no idea that transwomen immediately post-op have a use for menstrual products although once explained it made a lot of sense (post-surgical bleeding) and the cisgirls were happy to discuss how to select what works for an individual and the choices out there. We haven’t had a problem with ringers because they can’t convincingly act like women, at least not for more than a post or two. We have had the authenticity of at least one cis-woman challenged based on posting behavior, but that was resolved without too much trouble.
Meanwhile, the heavily-male board has a strict policy of referring to people by their preferred gender and non-harassment. And it’s enforced. It’s a little surprising, given how very brutal the board culture can be in other respects - it makes the old BBQ Pit here look tame at times. Members don’t have to like or agree with the concept of transsexulism but they have to treat everyone on the board with respect. Having been there about 10 years I’d say the ratio of male to female objectors follows the SDMB poll - easily 9 out of 10 ciswomen don’t have an issue with transwomen in their “territory” but a shitload of cismen sure do have a problem with it.
Una, your story made me cry buckets. Well, that and my SAD which is fully active on this dreary winter day.
I’m so glad you found the will inside of you and the help from others to do what you needed to put yourself in a new place. Your story will be an inspiration to others. Please write it and publish it.
Una your writing ability is incredible. I think you should write a book and have it made into a movie. 
Interesting about the hormones. My mind pictured a cisgendered woman who is severely deficient in female hormones. I would imagine it’s like low T in a CG male. We need those hormones to feel ok.
I would imagine it’s worse for people like yourself because I’m guessing your body wasn’t making any T? So you just had neither. Seems like that would create so much depression and mood swings.
You never had to take T blockers right? I guess that’s what your therapist saw right away that oh my god, you have no hormones. Of course you are suffering biochemically in addition to your circumstances.
I’m really glad that you found people who could help.
God-damn, Una. Preach it!
I’m suddenly sad that I live so far away from you that I doubt I’ll have the chance to hear you speak. It must be a powerful experience, and if you speak half as well as you write, you’re a damn awesome presenter!
I was sure I covered this somewhere in the long-winded postings. I was born a mix. In the 1960’s doctors, especially small-town ones, would often hope that things would “work themselves out”, so long as urinary and other functions were able to, well, function. My parents raised me male, for reasons explained earlier, somewhat due to family pressure and somewhat due to ignorance and poverty. Later on it was discovered that I produced high amounts of estrogen (but not a full female level) and very low testosterone, at times lower than a cisgender female, at other times varying. This is when suddenly I grew breasts in Junior High. Other symptoms I discussed. Later in life still, I was certified “mostly female” without the need for surgery in a sworn affidavit by a physician. For a while I had government IDs which said “F” but had my male name. My transition was to move from “mostly” or “half” female, depending on which doctor you asked, to as fully as possible.
You nailed it. Invariably, it is the men who are more opposed to transgender persons being in the proper bathrooms.
Many who have speculated on this subject have come to that conclusion. Polls of men who oppose transgender women in women’s bathrooms tend to fall into “public safety” as their excuse. When asked to provide a case of an actual diagnosed transgender person assaulting a woman in a women’s bathroom…well, there just aren’t many, or any. I know of one case where a transgender man was in a boy’s bathroom under suspicious circumstances and was arrested, but no actual crime was committed.
There can also be discharges, long after surgery. One of my best friends who is post-SRS can go into frightening detail on that subject. And often does, at times like while having BBQ. :eek:
I agree.
I have been asked that a lot. I may do it. I’ve been writing, but mostly in private.
Well I can see my writing has a few typos in it (“I was palpable…” good grief, I hope not) but I didn’t have a prepared set of posts, I wrote them on the fly.
There’s a lot to what you say - hormone deficiency is the best way to describe my life, but that deficiency started in the womb.
My body made T in a range, ranging from almost nothing to a low male level. The average was a cisgender female level, though at times it would shoot through the roof, for reasons unknown, to the highest reaches of a male level. Everything was going haywire with me.
I am asked to speak quite frequently, I’m fearless and will speak to any group, and I like to speak. I practice and practice and practice again for every speech. My best experiences have been speaking at high schools. The kids are very interested, ask lots of probing questions, and they can even have ad hoc debates right there at the end of my speech. I’m honest with them and don’t talk down to them, and I think when I describe the bullying - no, let’s call it torture - I went through in High School, along with my rape, it really clicks with an unfortunate number of them.
As a result, I have a lot of hope now, more than ever, when I see the kids of today. It has opened my eyes and educated me.
An excellent thread, Una. By sharing what you’ve been though, I have a much better understanding of the transsexual condition. (Was completely ignorant on this subject before this.)
I do not have a question, but just wanted to say you’re in my top 10 list of most respected Dopers.
Add my voice to the thanks for this thread; it’s been among the most educational ones I’ve ever read on this or any other board.
Two questions, and these are in the “are these things offensive?” category, so I’m asking for your considered opinion and not the Official Answer or anything.
First–you mentioned in passing Rocky Horror. Are campy movies like this kind of the equivalent of blackface, or do you think they’re harmless, or somewhere in between? As a teenager I was a Rocky devotee, but in retrospect it’s looking a bit icky.
Second, our local women’s shelter does a fundraiser every year, Walk a Mile In Her Shoes, in which men get sponsorships to wear high heels and walk a mile in them. A few years ago there was some grumbling about how it was disrespectful to the trans community. I heard about the grumbling secondhand, and didn’t take it too seriously, but I also wanna be careful not to dismiss concerns without understanding them–any thoughts on such a fundraiser?
Good question. This subject actually does come up quite a lot in the community. My experience is split. I’d say among the people I know in my community who have seen Rocky Horror, about half think it’s hilarious and cool, and the other half do consider it like a blackface show. Personally, I’m in the middle leaning towards blackface.
I mean, there are some transpeople who consider drag to be blackface, and who get very offended at drag. I was watching a Christmas musical with one of my dearest friends, a fire-breathing trial lawyer who is a lovely transsexual woman, and she was offended to the point of almost walking out when a version of “Santa Baby” was sang by a gay man in drag. IMO the performance was not campy or insulting, in fact, I thought it was well-done and respectful.
That being said, I do honestly believe that as Society evolves, drag will be treated as blackface in the future. I mean, at its heart, it is, right? Drag is a humorous performance, with part of the humor being based on the performer portraying a highly campy stereotyped representation of a minority. I’m not sure.
We have the same here, and it is well-publicized. While you can always find someone to grouse about something, I’ve never heard anyone in my rather large community here mention the Walk a Mile event in any terms other than complimentary. If it was “dress in drag and run a 10k,” that would be a lot different.
I feel like I’m crazy or something because I thought all of this happened ages ago. I always knew you weren’t born female (I never got the whole intersexed bit; I think I assumed you were born strictly male) but in the 13+ years I’ve been here*, you’ve always registered “female” in my mind.
I’m so sorry it took you so long. 
- Jesus, REALLY?! Now I feel old.
Even people I had told about me I kept the ambiguity thing a secret, because it was too embarrassing and I worried about the mockery I might get from the nonnies and others. I didn’t even fully tell people the extent of my physical issues on my own message board, again, just because it seemed like I should have some secrets. Since everything changed however, I don’t even pay attention to any of that stuff, and as time passed since transition I find I finally reached a point of not caring about what people think about things I can’t control. Hey, it only took a few decades…
You’re not old; you’re young, in an older world.
I’ve seen these name/pronoun tags at events for trans youth. Some of the kids just don’t pass yet, some are very gender fluid, some reject gender binaries (as my daughter would say). I feel pretty silly wearing them, but none of the teens seem to. They’re very interested in pronoun debates.
As the parent of a trans teen, I’d like to clear up one misconception people often have about kids and transitions. Pre-pubescent transitions are social (presentation), not medical–nobody is giving hormones to little kids. The issue arises at puberty, when trans kids start developing the secondary sex characteristics of the gender with which they don’t identify. Blockers can be used to temporarily halt puberty. These are completely reversible–once a teen stops taking them, puberty resumes. Cross hormones do have permanent effects, especially testosterone. As Una has mentioned above, nobody doles them out to teens lightly either. There’s a long period of therapy involved as well as a great deal of medical supervision. Yes, there are risks involved in making such an important decision at a young age. But given the very high rates of suicide among trans teens, and the relief involved in NOT developing the body they don’t want, it can be a risk well worth taking in some cases.
I have to say that even with supportive parents and a supportive school, life is pretty damn hard on trans teens. I can’t even begin to imagine the pain my daughter feels about her body or what she went through before she realized that she was a she and not a he.
Thanks for the thread, Una, and for your work with trans youth.
Thank you Una, and Emiliana too: you both continue to amaze me with your awesomeness & the way you speak about trans-everything!
This is maybe a weird question to you Una:
Do you feel you are healing your relationship to your body? I think, from reading, that I’m getting a sense that you are? Like for a long time you were so unhappy with your body, but the way you describe feeling beautiful now… Wow!! (Oh dear, this isn’t shaping into a question… could you just err… comment?)
Una, since you’ve been on both sides of the fence, have you developed any coping strategies for this? I’ve had these sorts of problems in my academic life, to the point where I was strongly considering leaving.