March - May 1998

It's been a tough few months and I didn't keep up with things as I wanted to. If there is a word which summs up this period, it's Rollercoaster!

There was alot of up and down in my life. Laura and I resolved our differences, which is good. I hate not knowing whatI did to piss people off. My wife and I have had many discussions about my transgendered status and our relationship in general. There were several times when I thought that things were just going to go to hell all together. Somehow, however, we were able to keep things together.

I feel I've made some good progress with my therapist. She has helped me alot to work throught all of this stuff. One thing that we hit upon is the resentment I've developed towards my parents. I don't understand how I could live with them and they not talk to me about any of this. I mean, how could and they not realize that there was anything wrong. End of high school I was ready to kill myself and they had no clue?

Needless to say, I'm pretty annoyed, but am dealing with it. Basically, it's in the past and can't do anything to change it. Oh well, life goes on...

April 8th I made the following post alt.support.crossdressing:

Subject: I'm Tired

I'm tired.

I'm tired of secrets. Keeping them that is.

I'm tired of putting on a front for my friends, family... the world.

I have this almost overwhelming need to let everyone in the world know just what my deal is. Let them all stand there, mouths open, not knowing what to say. I'd start with my parents:

"Mom, Dad... There's something I need to tell you... I'm transgendered."

"You're what?"

"I'm transgendered"

"Is that like gay or something?"

"More 'or something'"

"Oh. So what does that mean?"

"Oh. So what does that mean?"

And so on...

I would tell them "I've been this way all my life, but nobody ever paid enough attention to notice that there was something different."

I'd ask them, "Didn't you wonder why I played with girls all the time? Why I spent so much time alone? Why I was always so moody?"

I'd ask them, "Why couldn't see I was in pain after high school?"

I'd ask them, "How could you *not* know something was going on???"

I'd probably get the response "Why didn't you tell us there was something bothering you?"

And I'd ask them, "Why the fuck didn't you bother to pay attention, as there were ample signs that something was bothering me? Or didn't you care?"

And so it would go, with similar discussions for the others in my life. Some would understand, some would consider it inconsequential, some would be mortified. In the end, though, the secret would be no longer, and I'd be that much more sure where I stand in the world.

Little in the way of immediate good would come of this. Why, then, would I want to do this? Well, for one thing, it would be one less thing which I carry around all the time. To actually come out and say it to the people with whom I assocate on a regular basis would be such a weight lifted. I could stop worrying what people might/do think about me. I could filter out, in one fell swoop, all those who don't like me for who I am. I could move that much closer to just being me, as opposed to the 'me' which everyone else expects me to be.

So, what stops me from doing this?

Fear.

Fear of rejection. Fear of ridicule. Just plain and simple fear.

If I had cancer, I could tell people. I might get the same responses as to telling them I was transgendered, but I could tell them.

See, it OK to be terminally ill. It's OK to become deformed due to an accident. It's OK to have almost anything wrong with you. People will look at you and say "I'm sorry..." They can accept that something has happened to you. They will tell you about how much more you are than your disability or illness.

"No, I don't have an illness. I don't gender myself in a way which matches my sex."

"Oh... ::snickering:: So you think you're a woman?"

"No, but I think *you're* an asshole!"

People just don't get it...

"Damnit! I'm not sick! Why can't you understand this? Why does everyone think I've got some 'desease' which need to be cured???"

"We do understand, really. You're just confused, that's all. Don't worry, we'll help you get through this..."

"Cut the patronizing crap! I can do without *your* help!"

Lose as arm, it's sad. Lose your sight, it's awful. Forget about lose, 'question' your gender, your a sick puppy and need some serious help.

Letting everyone know would be social suicide. Am I ready for that? Am I ready to be alone?

I don't know... But right now, it seems better than where I am.

Will I do it? Probably not... But I want to sooo badly.

So, again, why would I want to do this?

Because this is who I am.

Because if I'm comfortable with it, why the hell can't you be?

Because I'm tired of putting on a front.

Because I'm tired of secrets. Keeping them that is.

Because I'm tired.
--
He who has to do in secret what he does best and most likes to do, with protracted tension, caution, slyness, becomes anaemic; and because he never has harvested anything from his instincts but danger, persecution, disaster, his feelings too turn against these instincts - he feels them to be a fatality. - Nietzsche

Basically, I'm tired of keeping this a secret and just want to let the world know what my deal is. I want to, but have yet to act on this. Well see where this goes.

On an up note, my second daughter was born on April 9th. She weighted in at nine pounds fifteen onuces. Yep, she was a big baby. As if my life weren't complicated enough, it just got more so. It's OK though, as I love her dearly. My goal is still to strike a balance with all of this in my life. So far, it's been very slow going, but I'm committed to making it work.


And that, me droogs, brings March through May 1998 to a close...



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