I wish I could say it was easy. Parts of this transition are. I know who I am, I have hope of how I will change the external to match the internal, but I also have family and friends, work and society. Most of you know what I am talking about…while those of us who are transgender must wrestle with the gender dysphoria feelings, we also must occasionally deal with the desire to purge.
For me it usually follows a setback. Comments that are decidedly negative about the current transgender issues from friends I assumed were much more open minded have been a frequent stumbling block for me lately. One such occurrence happened to me just a few weeks ago, and as I was about to “come out” about my current journey. Talk about being sucker punched in the pseudo-lady bits!!!
The inner dialog always starts with the same question…”Wouldn’t it be easier?” The words that have launched numerous agonizing bouts of self-doubt, temptation to take every “girly” thing I own and treasure and lock them away (or worse throw them away), a thousand mental reminders to cancel my next therapy appointment, let my counselor know by email “I’m cured” and slink back into the same male farce that has made me feel so out of place and “wrong” as I have tried to live it for so long.
Balance is so hard to achieve. If I had my way sometimes I would book my surgeries, disappear without a trace, and start a whole new life as the me I really am inside, but that isn’t fair to my ultra supportive wife, my kids, my parents, her parents who have virtually adopted me as their own. So why not just let things stay as they are, or just deal with my dysphoria as I always have?
Unfortunately the answer is always the same: because it keeps getting worse; because life is short; because the stress and depression that come from not moving forward are often more binding than the corset I try to squeeze into to give myself more of an hourglass figure.
As I write this I’m not experiencing one of those episodes…this isn’t a cry for support. I promised myself when I started writing for this site that I would be honest with the good and the bad. I hope to help others the same way I have found help and encouragement here. Are there days I wish I could stop being Vicki? Would it be easier? I can stop wanting to breathe but it doesn’t mean my lungs or body will allow it. And when the panic hits it’s what I always come back to…when I remember to slow my breathing and calm down.
Vicki isn’t someone I’m trying to become, it’s who I am. I can put on every item of male clothing I own and it will never change the fact that my inner voice is female, or that when I look in the mirror it’s not the reflection I want to see…yet!
The journey continues. In my case it simply has to, but sometimes it’s finding the right pace, the right balance that matters the most.