Journal-December 2001

2001-12-01; Bury my past in the backyard.........

Early on, when I was first contemplating transition, I decided that I would never hide my past. I had this noble thought that if I allowed people to know me - allowed them to know my past - I could actually make a difference in the world. Maybe I could help to change people's opinions about gender reassignment.

I recall writing to a transwoman back in February of this year. We not only exchange experiences, but also our thoughts of what the future would hold for us. I remember how she thought it would be so great to finish transition and then just blend into the this binary world of ours. I remember thinking to myself that I would never do that. I would never hide who I was to anyone. I would show the world I was proud to be trans.

There was such a difference in our ages. I figured she was so young. She didn't really have the life-experience I had, and therefore, wouldn't miss a whole lot by burying the past in her backyard. I, on the other hand,felt I had probably spent half of my life in a woman's body. There is no way I could hide that, nor did I want to.

Now, my feelings have changed. Now I don't think I can stand to see the reactions of people discovering my status. Even though the people I am meeting now never knew me as a girl, I think they would recoil. I think they would push me away. I just know they would treat me differently. While I still feel a great deal of pride in my choice, I don't want to be have people feel they cannot relate to me. I don't want to be treated like a freak.

This causes a great deal of anxiety for me. I think it is preventing me from really making friends here. I watch everything I say. I worry that it will slip out that I'm trans, and then I'll be in the same situation as I am with people from my past.

I hold back who I am. I am reserved and untrusting. I don't think you can make friends if you act in this way. And if I do make friends in this manner, they will only know a fraction of who I am.

So I have a dilemma. Do I hold back who I am - keep my thoughts and feelings to myself - bury my past deep in the backyard - just for the sake of having a social life? Or do I just be myself and not have social connections?

I'm very confused about how to continue from here. I don't even want to think about how all this will effect dating.

2001-12-02; Dig up my past and dust her off......

I got a call from my mom last night. She told me that I would never guess who called her. After a few wrong guesses she finally tells me that my best friend from when I was 10 years old had called.

In 1977, I lived in a small village in the Southern portion of Germany. When I arrived, I didn't know the language, but the boy next door spoke fairly good English, and he was excited to have someone to practice it on. We became friends very quickly. We both liked to woodworking, hiking, and dreaming about what the future held for us. Though we went to different schools during the day, we were rarely apart in the afternoons and on the weekends. I remember thinking of him as the older brother I had always wished I had.

I always felt a deep connection with Gerald, and so when I returned to Germany in 1999 to visit a girlfriend, I made sure to travel to Southern Germany to see if he might still live in that same village. As I walk from a neighboring village to the one I lived in as a child, I passed many of the fields that we hiked and rode our bikes through over 20 years ago.

Once in the village, I found the home I lived in just as easily as if I were just getting off my old school bus. I knocked on the door of my former landlords to find them still living in the same home we rented an apartment in. After a joyful reunion, I was rushed off to the backyard to see my long lost friend. There, after two decades, was my friend, Gerald, repairing a fence

I had a wonderful time meeting his wife and new baby daughter. We talked about future visits and once again dreamt about what the future held. But at that time I never imagined the future that I'm living now. I had no idea then that I would transition. In fact, at the time I visited with him, I was trying very hard to be a girl.

When my mom called to tell me that Gerald was looking for me, I was excited - I wanted to know how he was, how his faamily was,  and if perhaps he was coming to the US. Then my mom told me that his wife had died, and that he felt his life was shattered. She also told me that she sensed he was seeking me out for more than just getting in touch with an old friend. She thought that perhaps he had romantic intentions as well.

I wasn't surprised by my mom's suggestion. In fact, once while we were kids, he slipped me a love note. I remember hating him for a while after that. I remember thinking, "how could my 'brother' give me such a note", and I recall being shocked that he didn't see me as a boy. So, I wasn't surprised that some of those feelings still existed.

Of course, my mom didn't say anything to him about my transition. She didn't even tell him I had a new name, but she did give him my phone number.

I told her that this one will be a hard one to explain to him. There is a bit of a language barrier, and I was already trying to pick out the language I would need in order to tell him about my life now. I could hear my mom's hesitation on the phone. Then after a pause, she said that perhaps I shouldn't tell him. She said that maybe I should just be a girl. She kept mentioning how uncomfortable it would make him feel, especially if he had feelings for me. I told her that I wasn't sure how I was supposed to hide it. My voice isn't exactly that of a woman. She said nothing and changed the subject.

How am I supposed to be a girl again? Should I do it for a friend in pain? Do I alter my voice, and pretend I'm a girl? God, I don't want to hurt anyone, especially a friend that is grieving, but I lived for over 30 years trying to be someone I wasn't. Now that I am who I feel I was truly supposed to be, I don't think I have it in me to go back. 

I've had several hang-ups on the phone. I can't tell who it is, or even if it is an overseas call. I bet it's him. I bet he hears my voice, and doesn't reply cause it's some strange guy's voice. My mom should have gotten his phone number from him so I could call him instead. Hmmm, perhaps I'll just write him a letter.

2001-12-07; Health MAYBE Organization.....

I've spent the last two weeks writing, calling, and emailing doctors listed as Primary Care Physicians by my HMO. So far no doctor has been willing to take me as a patient. Some just have closed practices, but others are open, but have not responded to my inquires. I've gone through all the Adult Medicine and Internal Medicine people, and I've made my way through nearly all the Family Practice people. I'm frustrated.

I'm telling them up front that I'm trans. Perhaps that's a mistake, but I don't want to waste time with a doctor that isn't trans-friendly, or at least trans-understanding. I don't want insurance paperwork to be started by someone who will not look out for me. I fear if my treatment and paperwork is not handled well from the beginning, it will haunt me forever. As it is, so little transition costs are covered by insurance, I don't need even less covered.

At this point, I'd just be happy with a doctor that is willing to give me a check up. So far no luck. I'm tired of leaving messages for people that will not return my calls. So, I finally just started writing letters instead. No one has answered my letters either. I'm going to keep hounding them. They don't have to treat me, but they are going to have to tell me why not.

2001-12-16; Does this hood match my shoes???

It's finally official. While everything was done by the end of July, I wasn't able to officially graduate until yesterday.

I wasn't even sure I would attend my graduation. I thought I'd like to do it so my nieces and nephews could see some sort of reward for hard work in school, but my sister wouldn't allow the kids to attend. So, after long thought, I decided I would do it just for myself - To celebrate my accomplishment, and to have an excuse to wear a suit.

I had planned to buy a new suit for graduation, but I'm really starting to grow, and I can't see buying a suit today that won't fit in two months. So I just made due with what I already had. With the gown on, all that was seen were six inches of pant leg, shoes and my collar. After being hooded, no one could even see my collar. So there's a couple hundred bucks saved. (I'll post some pictures soon).

My mom came to the ceremony, which I think is a big step for her. I think it's hard for her at times to be seen with me, but ultimately I think she was proud of my work and perseverance. I'm glad she came.

I also brought a picture of Marc with me. In the photo, he's surrounded by many of his friends, and he's got that slight grin that he usually carried when he was amused. I placed his picture in the breast pocket of my suit, and thought of him throughout the ceremony. He would have graduated yesterday as well, but instead his major professor was presented with his diploma and hood. His parents didn't want to come. I've decided to send this photo to his family. I want them to see him with his friends, and I want them to know that we didn't forget what a special man he was.

All and all, I enjoyed going - for myself.

2001-12-17; Oh and let's not forget, no adam's apple.....

I just spent four days with my mom, and for the most part it was fun. We got to hang out, talk, and eat. I think she enjoyed graduation, and meeting some of my friends. She even bought me cool jacket that she saw at the university bookstore, and she baked me some Christmas cookies to bring back to IL. Much of our time together was like it had been before I transitioned. It gave me hope that things are improving. I had even thought it might mean that I could come home for Christmas, but that now seems to have not been the case.

Perhaps it's good to limit our interactions. I think she probably sees me more than she'd like to, but enough to see steps in my transition, though she doesn't acknowledge any changes in my appearance. Instead she points out what remains female in me. She's quick to point out that I have slight hands, a small head, wide hips, and narrow feet for a man. Oh and that I don't have an adam's apple.

Perhaps the limited interactions are good for me as well. I feel less secure about my appearance after I visit with her. I tend to feel more like an imposter, and I hate that. I hate feeling that I need validation from others to feel secure in my physical self. I tell myself that I should never let someone's opinion of what a man is interfere with my internal vision of what I define a man to be. However, I do take in 'data' from my environment, and if I spend enough time with someone telling me what features aren't male, I begin to let those visions seep into my mind.

Though I don't like the area I'm living in a great deal, at least no one here picks apart my physical features, and places them in categories defined by degree of masculinity. No sooner did I return home did someone, who discovered what university I attended, ask me if I played football for them. I figure that's a pretty decent compliment for a guy with slight hands, a small head, wide hips, narrow feet, oh and let's not forget, no adam's apple.

2001-12-19; Captain Alteredboy's inseam is shrinking.....

A few noteworthy physical and emotional changes this month.

Emotionally, I don’t feel quite as depressed as I did last month – or even as I did two weeks ago. I don’t really feel my depression is due to my hormones necessarily, but I do want to comment when my sprits are down.

I’ve been throwing myself into my work, and I think the challenges that my project presents takes my mind off of other things. I’m also less lonely. I think I’m growing on the people at work – at least a couple of them. Some days I defiantly greet everyone I pass during the day warmly and pleasantly. I’ll teach these Yankees a thing or two about hospitality! Sometimes I think these people up here weren’t hugged enough as children or something. So I’m making myself feel better.

Physically, it’s just more of the same. With each passing week, I can see significantly more hair. My chest hair is really starting to kick in, and I also noticed some new hairs on my shoulders and ass cheeks – no back hair though.

My beard seems to grow differently than it does on most men. The hair on my chin and under my chin is growing very fast, and getting thicker with each passing week. I actually think if I wanted to suffer through the scraggly phase, I could have a decent patch in that area.

In the past couple of weeks, I also noticed that areas on the side of my jaw are starting to grow more rapidly and the hair is becoming thicker. Most of the hair is blonde, and not very noticeable visually, however, I can usually get a scraping sound if I stroke those areas the morning after I shave.

But here’s the weird part, and the reason I think my beard differs from most men, my sideburns refuse to grow. Nothing I’m telling you! I don’t even have to shave that part of my face. It’s so frustrating because that’s all I really wanted during the first part of beard growth. Serves me right for wishing.

Muscle development is still going on. I had to go through my clothes recently to see what still fits me. It’s a good thing that I bought my jackets and coats from goodwill for a mere few dollars, but I hate having to get rid of some of my dress shirts – some I’ve only wore a time or two.

I had to take pictures of my chest to send to Menard a week or so ago, and I was impressed when I looked at the photos and saw how muscular my shoulders have become. I could still use some upper body work, but all and all, I like how my shoulders are turning out.

Likewise, my hips are continuing to be shaped by my hormones. I still think I have more hips than I’d like, but they are slimming down. My inseam is shrinking. My pants are finally settling down on my hips the way they should on a man. So I’ve gone from a 34” inseam to a 32”.

Since switching back to my original face wash, acne is not a problem. I still get a couple zits now and then, but what I’m really noticing now is that the zits I get are tiny, and shallow – not large, deep, red infected areas like before. Now I don’t think T has made my zits better, rather I think I’m taking better care of my skin. I really make sure I wash my face three times a day. The funny thing about my transition is that I find I want to take better care of my body now. I take care of my skin. I floss everyday. I cut my hair more carefully and more often. I eat better. I dress nicer. I sleep more. I guess I like my body more and want to show it my appreciation.

Body acne still has not been a problem. I think so far I’ve had one zit on my chest and one on my back. I haven’t done anything special to prevent them, so I think my T dose must be just about right. My endo told me that if body acne became a problem it’s a sign to cut back on T. I feel comfortable knowing I’m getting all the testosterone I need without getting too much.

I finally feel like my sex drive is becoming manageable. I still become preoccupied with sex at times, and I still masturbate a couple times a day, but it doesn’t seem overwhelming. I even canceled one of my subscriptions to a porno website. I’m not sure if this is an adjustment of my body to the testosterone, or if I’m just so busy with work that my mind is diverted from nasty, lusty and perverted thoughts that I love so much.

2001-12-20; In just over 10 million seconds .....

A beautiful French Canadian voice greeted me, by way of my answering machine, yesterday when I arrived home. My file has been completed, and I was informed that all I needed was to return her call and a date would be set for my surgery. I called first thing this morning, and was given the date of April 23rd. Even with Menard’s waiting list, it’s likely not that earliest date I could get, but it’s the earliest I’ll have the money.

This wait will also give me an opportunity to get into better shape. I’ve been working out with weights, but I’ve not been running at all. My neighborhood isn’t a jogger’s paradise, so I guess I’ll start bringing my running shoes to work.

As soon as I get a confirmation letter outlining the dates of my visit to Montreal, I’ll try to find a cheap flight. I also have to find a doctor here to clear me physically. I still haven’t heard back from any of the doctors I wrote. So that’s basically all I can do for now, except count the passing seconds.

2001-12-23; A card from a slightly homophobic chap who is devoted to his transwoman wife .....

I smiled today when I found a Christmas card in my mail from a fella I met at Southern Comfort this year. Back in September when I attended Southern Comfort, I came across several characters, but this fella was the one that stands out the most. The story about our meeting is something I had wanted to write about in my journal, but had forgotten to do so.

On the day I attended Southern Comfort, I had an hour or so to kill before the next seminar I wanted to sit in on. I wandered around in the lobby for a while before deciding to find a place to sit and people watch. I saw an older guy sitting in a chair. There was a small table next to him, and on the other side of that, another chair – an empty chair. I walked over to him and asked if the chair was taken. He smiled nervously and told me that it was mine if I wanted it. For a few minutes I sat there watching people go by – especially the transwomen! Never had I seen so many tall women in all my life. I then turned my attention to the fella sitting next to me. He didn’t strike me as a transman. In fact, he looked like a businessman visiting Atlanta. I figured to myself that this must be a sight to behold for him. I even envisioned him telling all his buddies at work all about the things he saw sitting in that hotel lobby.

Then he leaned over to me, and his first words to me were, “I’m not gay. I’m not trying to pick you up, but do you want to chat?” I laughed to myself, and said sure. He then proceeded to ask if I was gay. I told him no, and while I think that brought him some relief, he still seemed nervous. He commented a bit on all that was going on in the hotel. I could tell that he understood it was a conference of trans people. I was impressed that he didn’t think it was a bunch of drag queens instead. He even commented on how brave the women at the conference were. I agreed with him. Wrong or right, I have always believed transition is harder for transwomen – mostly because being male is so prized by our society.

He looked at me curiously, and asked why I was there. I told him that I was a transman. He didn’t understand, so I went through the basics. “I was born female, but now I’m male”, I told him.  He seemed shocked and surprised. Almost tongue tied even. “But you’re not gay, right?”, he asked again. I told him that I wasn’t gay, but I was a transsexual.

He sat back quietly in his chair, and I thought that he’d probably stop talking to me now. I grinned.

After pondering what I had said a bit, he sat back up in his chair and asked me to explain it again. I told him the same thing again. This time it seemed to sink in a bit more (but he would ask me twice more if I was gay in our conversation). He then revealed to me that he was married to a transwoman. This time it was my jaw that hit that ground. I never thought he was associated with the conference in any way. I really thought he was sitting down here to amuse himself, but I came to find out he was just some poor guy waiting for his wife to change her outfit upstairs.

We talked about the many jobs he had in Atlanta and the surrounding areas. We talked about a bad car accident he had that still affects him to this day. We talked about football. We even talked a bit about transsexuality. Throughout our conversation I was struck me by one thing. Obviously, he was a man with many traditional values. I actually think he was extremely conservative, but regardless of those beliefs he was completely devoted to his wife. She truly made him happy.  It gave me hope that if a transwoman could melt the heart of a conservative, then it is possible for this transman to find someone too.

When it was time for me to leave for my seminar, I shook his hand, got his address, and promised to send him a baseball cap from my university. Cool guy. I’m glad I got to talk to him, and I’m glad I got a Christmas card from him and his wife.

2001-12-26; The pressure is off.....

I’m so glad Christmas is over. I feel like a ton of bricks have been lifted off my shoulders. God, our culture puts too much pressure on us this time of year. I felt like a total loser because I had nowhere to go on Christmas. I felt alone – abandoned. I had to change channels on the television every time they showed some sappy family gathering around Christmas dinner or exchanging gifts.

I didn’t necessarily want to go home with the way things are, but I felt like a failure for letting my relationships with my family get to this level. I resented my family as well. I was angry at my mom and sister for not letting me come home. I wonder what message it sends to the kids. Maybe the kids just think I don’t care about them anymore.

I’m glad it’s all over with. Maybe things will be different next year.

2001-12-27; Finally .....

I heard from one of the doctors I wrote. She seems nice, and says she has no reservations in seeing me. I’m extremely relieved knowing that I won’t have to continue searching.

2001-12-31; If I were to resolve .....

Well, the only resolution I've ever been able to keep was the one I made nearly ten years ago. I resolved to never make another New Year's resolution. However, if I were going to make a few this year I suppose they would be as follows:

1. See a Cubs game shirt-less.
2. Don't take the actions of others so personally.
3. Grow sideburns!
4. Continue to work on my website.

Happy New Year

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