Just the Facts, Ma'am

"Who can be sure of anything, through the distance that keeps you from knowing the truth?" -- Feist--

Two sessions ago, my therapist challenged me to think about how I might categorize myself on the transgender spectrum. She had her own ideas, but wanted me to provide an unvarnished assessment. Given my recent successes, it's time to get into some deeper discussions.

It's been eleven months since this thing took hold and shook me, eight months since I started getting counseling. At first, I could think of nothing but how much I wanted to shed this male body and live a different life. It ate at me, literally, devouring over twenty pounds in four months. Then I got help. I had never met another transgendered person, to my knowledge. I had never spoken to a crossdresser. The internet asserted their presence out there, but I felt very alone.

Since starting therapy , I have gradually grown calmer, better able to see my situation and feelings objectively. I've come to realize that I am not transsexual, at least at present. I was convinced my bell had rung last October. My mission seemed clear. But now, I realize I haven't the fire in my belly to follow through. Transsexuals, in my experience, are an unstoppable force. They try to protect the feelings of others, but they don't let that get in the way. I'm far too concerned with the feelings of others to transform myself completely.

That's not to say that I've stopped moving in that direction. I want to be more feminine than I am. I want bare legs. I want the beard gone forever. I'd love to paint my toenails! Maybe with time, the incremental changes will prove to be insufficient. Maybe I'll baby step my way to womanhood. But the bulk of the transsexuals I know are driven to get to the goal line, but quick. And I just don't feel it. I don't feel the need to invert my genitals. It would seem very alien to me to have breasts all the time.

So for now, I'm going to keep my safe zone. I can be a male anytime, and I pass easily! Yeah, the arm hair is clipped short and bleached, and the fingernails are unusually long, and I wear stuff that's a lot brighter and more feminine than my male peers, and no one's any the wiser. Or, I'm fooling myself, and I will be outed tomorrow by some observant person.

On a related note, I'm feeling very ready to out myself to my brother, and my wife's sisters. This secrecy eats at me. I'd like to be able to be myself with the people I feel closest to. Not to present as Leslie with them, but to be able to drop the filter that I have to run everything through. Say it loud, I'm ambigendered and I'm proud.