A friend recommended that i post something like this, to try to find others similar to me..
Ive been out as trans (to myself) since january 2 years ago. I've just recently started transitioning, I started estrogen in October, MtF. I'm very active in the LGBT community, I even lead my campus' GSA.
In July, I had sex for the first time in my life. It.. well, it didn't feel great... And afterwards, I started sobbing. As I lay there after in the arms of someone i care about deeply(Lets call her B), I realized I had experienced that sensation before. For years and years, Ive been vaguely aware of what happened. Ive had the details, sort of blurry, in the back of my mind. On that night though, it all became clear to me. I cried for a very long time that night. I was molested as a child, possibly raped. The details are fuzzy but there are pieces that stick out.
I talked to my therapist about it a few times after that.. but once the semester started, it kinda got buried away; there was just too much to do. Last week, I was with some friends(B and one of our friends) and the other girl mentioned, rather nonchalantly, that she was raped as a child; she is pretty much past it and thus wasnt upset to mention that. We started talking, and i told her that i was molested too. I gave a little bit of the details. It was the first time I really talked about it since july. Before I knew it, the night was over and our friend left.
Almost as soon as she did, I had a complete nervous breakdown. Luckily, I was still there with B. I was sobbing and spacing out, every noise, every movement scared me to death. It seemed as if people in posters were moving and, when i looked in the mirror, it looked like there was another person on the other side. I spent the night at B's - I couldnt go home. She held me tightly for a few hours as i tried to sleep...
Since then, every day has been a spiral downward. Every night is just full of restlessless and nightmares. I've already been considering doing things I shouldn't. B is currently at her parent's house a state away, and has been since the night I stayed over. I'm trying to just get through this. I see my therapist on the 9th, so Im trying to get through till then. There are lots of people concerned for me right now, due to some facebook status updates I probably shouldn't have sent... as well as a few messages I sent out while, well, under the influence, as there has been a lot of that too.
I feel I can't tell anyone. There is such a social stigma, that all trans people were abused and thats why they are trans. I'm deathly afraid that is true for me, and I dont need more people doubting me. I feel as if I can't join a support group. Yes, I was a boy when this happened... yes, maybe i still look like a boy, but I'm a girl. I dont know.. How do I join any sort of support group?
I just feel really screwed up right now, I dont know how to recover. I was doing so good this semester.. I was able to go into rooms full of strangers and say plainly "Im trans and these are my needs" but now.. now I feel theres no strength left at all.
What do I do? Am I alone?
How many of you have been told this when trying to explain things to friends, family, or professionals? How does it make you feel?
While I do agree with the general concept, I think it's become a "buzz phrase" that people use when someone feels bad about their appearance. However, it upsets me to be told this in regard to my physical sex and gender. It isn't the same as being overweight or underweight; short or tall; having blue eyes or brown. We can't just go on a diet, wear platform shoes, or buy some contact lenses. Physical sex is (arguably) at the core of all things that have to do with our bodies. Every day, we are met with countless ways in which we are treated differently during social interactions because of our gender. It affects the opportunities we are given, the friends we make, the careers we may be pushed toward or away from, the people who are attracted to us (even in theory), and so many other things! And the options we have at our disposal for changing it are limited and financially expensive (but thankfully they are there!).
I have spent my entire life being thoroughly disgusted by what is between my legs, what I lack at my chest, and the shape of my body (among many other things). I feel like an alien. I look in the mirror and feel detached from what I see. "It's not me," I keep thinking, even though I know the unfortunate truth: It is. At the very least, it's my body as it is right now. And as long as I have some method, somewhere--something!--that I can do about it, I am going to pursue it. I think it is an insult to be told that I should just sit down, put my feet up, count my blessings, and be happy for something as life-defining and emotionally / psychologically troubling as this. I have even been told by my very own best (female) friend that I am being "shallow" by wishing so fervently to be female! I'm not sure the last time I have been so hurt and insulted by someone I trust and love so dearly (not counting the things my blood-family has done to me).
I surely hope I am not alone in this. Like I said, I do generally believe that our character is what makes us an individual. However, I don't think it can be argued how our sex defines us (in both our own eyes and in that of the world around us) in a multitude of other ways. This isn't a phase, it's not selfish ambition, nor is it wrong. To be handed the rhetoric we already know to be true in a general sense, we are not only being insulted as transgender people, but also as intelligent and self-conscious individuals.
Thoughts, opinions, and discussion on this topic would be highly appreciated.
I was asked that question over two years ago in a counseling session, and not sure exactly why, my best answer was "To fit in. To be accepted to the group I want to be part of." But this year's end has me reflecting that maybe that was only partially right.
I am quite comfortable wearing minimal makeup and casual clothes. But having been taken advantage of by two men, seeing "that thing" between my legs horrifies and saddens me. What is the link between these two events? It's rather causal and circular. In memoir fashion, I found it easiest to go back one link at a time.
I know what needs to be "down there," and can visualize it quite clearly after visiting Dr. Saran's page. I remember at the age of 16, perhaps even younger, wanting it to go back in. It didn't feel right for me. I tucked the whole thing in the groin skin folds, but it wouldn't stay. It just kept popping out. I tried over and over several times over the years, to just try to get it to go back. At 16, and for many years, crossdressing, even though mostly just underdressing, took second place to relying on my imagination of being female in sexual encounters. I hoped, as a person of faith, that if I wore girl's clothing, especially the underwear, things would go the way I felt they should have been.
As a child and a teenager, I never got along with the majority of children. I found more friends among the girls, and I didn't try to be male or female as a preschooler. I just was. It was the presence of other girls, not the games they played or the clothes the wore (except for one skirt that the little girl made look so beautiful twirling in), and not most of the toys they owned that I was drawn to. I felt more comfortable in the female circles. I have learned over the last year from women's circles, that gender in me is at least 50% resonance. I feel more comfortable in a non-sexual way and more as if I were with my own kind in the room.
Naturally, I was attracted to the kitchen, the enclave of the women, because so much time was spent there preparing food. It was when I was separated from the people I felt comfortable with because I was a "boy," that I began to feel so alone. That loneliness was reinforced by being forced to do things that "men do," further segregating me. Eventually, when adolescence hit, I was at times disgusted with my development, and at other times hoping I could find a way to not be alone "as a man." I used to masturbate to random images from the television, and tried to make myself "feel like a man." But it never worked, and I grew dissatisfied at least half the time with that "thing that stood in my way," and was so annoying and embarrassing. I knew I liked women, but my internal images were always liking them "as a woman." My slow adolescence in a way was a blessing, as I wasn't forced to look like what appeared to me to be 30-year old men in my classmates. I wasn't, at least, physically required to present as a dominant muscle-bound male (at least, not yet).
Of course, I wound up so internally turmoiled that I had few, if any, true friends.
I dress femininely, because at 16 and 44, I would do anything to have my sex fit what I have known it must be, because I still have faith that by doing so, God will put things right. I dress because I have to present as a woman for at least a year before I can have the surgery. I dress femininely to be accepted, but I have learned how to dress comfortably and still be Ma'amed.
Why do I crossdress or live full-time outside of work? So I can have what's between my legs put right and be counted among the women.
Hugs and God Bless,
Sophie