Pride & Opinions

To really understand transgendering/transsexualism, it helps to have an idea of what it really is, and its root cause. The beginnings of transgendering lie in gender dysphoria.

gen·der (jěn’dər), n.:
     1. Sexual identity, especially in relation to society or culture.
     2. The condition of being female or male; sex.

dys·pho·ri·a (dɪsˈfɔriə), n:
     1. a state of dissatisfaction, anxiety, restlessness, or fidgeting.

Breaking down the definitions of those words, gender dysphoria seems like a fairly simple concept: a sense of dissatisfaction or discomfort with one’s gender, whether birth gender or chosen gender. Gender dysphoria is a characteristic of what is referred to as gender identity disorder, though honestly I don’t like that term as ‘disorder’ implies that those who feel gender dysphoria are somehow abnormal.

They’re not.

The feeling of gender dysphoria is often the very beginning of the path towards transition; to make it even simpler, it’s the feeling that one was born in the body of the wrong gender. Your body is male, and yet you feel female. Your body is female, but you feel male - in ways that go beyond mere social identification and rest on a deep psychological level that often cannot be explained but that know, quite firmly, what feels wrong and what feels right.

The sense of wrongness associated with the feeling of being in the wrong body is what can prompt transgendered individuals to begin crossdressing, taking hormones, and pursuing surgical options in order to ease that sense of discomfort and align the physical self more thoroughly with the mental and emotional self.

Because gender can be such a fluid concept defined by more than one’s physical body, it can make transition very complex. More than just modifying or disguising the body to better suit one’s chosen gender, there’s also the matter of filling one’s gender role in society. Male and female gender roles are now more easily blended and interchangeable than they were as little as fifty years ago, but there’s still a matter of perception; people treat you differently based on the gender that they perceive you as, which can either help or hinder in feeling more comfortable with living as one’s chosen gender. It’s as much mental and emotional as it is physical, and yet the three aspects always depend on one another.

Imagine gender dysphoria as wearing a pair of shoes that’s two sizes too small. Talk about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes, eh? Only these shoes you can’t take off. They’re always there, always cramping your feet painfully, making it difficult to walk - chafing, blistering, driving you more insane with every day and yet you don’t know what to do about it, or you don’t have access to a way that might be able to remove them.

Not pleasant, is it? Now imagine feeling that way about your entire body. As if your body was an ill-fitting garment thrust upon the body of the self with no choice given to you in the matter.

And imagine that you were given a choice, later in life, once you came to understand your own gender identity and what you wished to do about it, and the options available to you to find something that fits.

Imagine the relief of taking off that ill-fitting shoe and walking free.

Imagine that pain, imagine that relief, and imagine it affecting your entire life, your happiness, and your concept of self-identity. Imagine it making you question everything, to the point where you can’t even allow yourself to become interested in someone for fear that they’ll want you for the wrong gender, will reject you if they find out who you really are under that wrong skin - can’t even comfortably walk into a public bathroom without feeling as if you’re in the wrong place no matter which one you chose.

Imagine looking in the mirror and seeing a stranger to who you really are, and then you may understand gender dysphoria.

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

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That’s right, today I’m choosing to spotlight a film and not a person. Why? Because if you haven’t seen this, you should.

TransAmerica stars Felicity Huffman as Bree, a pre-operative MtF transwoman, and the chronicles the adventure she faces in reconciling both her past life as a man and the inclusion of a son into her life. It covers a difficult cross-country journey in which Bree first appears to her son, Toby, as a stranger with a yen for helping troubled individuals - only for Toby to eventually discover, over the course of the trip, that not only is Bree M2F…but also his father.

The film does a very good job of covering complex issues that face the trans population of the world when dealing with society, family, and life in general, while handling them in a humorous-but-not-indelicate fashion. Beyond Huffman’s stellar performance, the film also offers a chance to combine education with entertainment and broaden the scope of those unfamiliar with trans issues in a way that makes it easier for them to accept and understand.

What I love the most about it is that it feels very real. There may be humor, but it’s real humor at the drollness of life rather than a slapstick attempt at comedy that would undermine the message underneath an evocative tale of companionship and self-discovery - not just for Bree, but for her son as well, and anyone who can identify with the search to be comfortable with one’s own life and one’s own choices.

Though don’t get me wrong, it is damned funny. And heartwarming, and tearjerking, and…

Oh, just go watch it. You won’t regret it.

My favorite quote from the film: “My body may be a work in progress, but there is nothing wrong with my soul.”

Amen.

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I’m still sorting through some submissions for TTT (Thursday’s Transgender Tales) and don’t have an appropriate one for today…so today, it’ll be me telling you a story. I hope you don’t mind.

Before I ever knew her as Kelly, I knew her as Keith. Keith and I worked together at my first job out of university, suit and tie all the way, a corporate hellhole that killed a little piece of me every day that I walked in and plastered on that false smile and listened to the little buzzwords thrown about like sticky, saccharine candy.

Keith and I were comrades in arms, the office queers. Corporate life is a world of Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell, military secrecy in fine-knit Italian suits, encrypted code and sexual espionage. We’d talk in our off-hours, sleeves rolled up and elbows on the bar at the nearest place to get a good drink, unwind, and gripe about what the weasels on upper decks had passed down to the lowly slums that day. Drinks after work became weekend hangouts, late-night phone calls, inside jokes shared in the office simply by exchanged glances, raised brows, and secretive smiles. After hours we’d be bursting, waiting to laugh, brimming with a dozen “Did you see–?”-s. Camraderie had become friendship, over the course of a few short months. We were brothers, in a way, stationed deep in enemy territory with only each other for support.

It was a few months before he trusted me enough to confide in me, however. A few months of Mai Tais and cigarettes and working weekends meeting deadlines screwed by managerial oversight, a few months of enduring company barbeques and picnics and griping about boyfriends and the local scene before he said, “I’ve got a secret. And you can’t tell anyone at work, Adri. You can’t. Promise.”

I promised, and that was when Keith introduced me to Kelly.

Kelly was a tall woman, redheaded, strong-shouldered, with the softest brown eyes you’d ever see. She carried herself awkwardly, uncomfortable in her skin; under her off-color foundation hints of stubble peeked out, and her clothes never sat quite right, bunched oddly in all the wrong places. Kelly had Keith’s pouting lips, and could have been his sister if Kelly wasn’t Keith peeking out from behind a face that didn’t quite belong to him.

To her.

She was nervous, the first time she showed me. Nervous and shy as a virgin, and even then she was pretty when she blushed, lowering her eyes and afraid to meet my gaze. I don’t know what she thought I’d do. Laugh, maybe. Recoil in disgust. Walk out, refuse to talk to her anymore. All I did was hug her; I didn’t know what else to do, or say. Just because he was now she didn’t change that she was still the same friend I’d known; I was a little confused, yes, trying to reconcile one identity with the other, but over time she taught me to understand, explained to me in the same honest and frank way that she always had.

At first I didn’t understand that she was turning to me for support, and shelter. At first I didn’t know what to do, once she made that fact clear. She wanted to transition fully, and hadn’t the faintest idea where to start – though she was willing to quit her job and start somewhere else anew, to avoid the awkwardness of coming out in the office. That, I knew how to help with. I helped her with her job hunts and dressing for interviews, helped her with looking for transgender resources, went with her to her first meeting of a local transgender organization. I went with her to local trans-friendly bars, made an ass out of myself shaking it on the dance floor with her, made an even bigger ass of myself snarling at the “tranny-chasers” who went after her looking to satisfy a few sexual kinks and use her as a fetish object.

I’ll admit I had no damned clue what I was doing. I’d never seen anyone transition before, and here she was asking me for help – but in the end, she didn’t need my help so much; just the support of a friend. She found her own way, forged her own path, and even when she curled her hand tight in mine while she waited nervously for her first meeting with a doctor about hormone therapy, I knew that despite her shaking fingers she was braver and stronger than I’d ever be.

She was brave enough and strong enough to openly proclaim that she would live her life as she chose to, and unashamedly step from the role that she was born into and into the role that she was meant for. I’ve never seen anyone fight so hard, or bear it so stoically. Over years I watched her change – watched as the estrogen affected her body structure and she softened and curved, watched as she struggled with adapting to feminine behavior, with changing social perceptions towards her, with dressing to flatter her body type, with disappointment on the days when she couldn’t pass convincingly to the general public, joy on the days when she could. Sometimes she was resolute, unwavering.

Sometimes, she was all too understandably human, and fragile. Sometimes she almost broke, almost gave up.

But she never did.

And yet she’d ask me some days, on the verge of tears, “Adrien, am I a freak?”

A freak…she was anything but. Every time I held her and stroked her hair, I told her that she was beautiful, told her that she’d made the right choice, that she was doing what made her happy. I never knew if my words really helped her, if she needed that or just needed someone to hold her while she spent her tears.

But I do know that in time, she stopped asking, stopped needing to be told. In time she began to smile more, began to bud, then blossom, until she was nearly giddy with the relief of discovering life as Kelly, discovering life where Keith no longer existed. Now she’s one of the brightest, most vivacious people that I know, and being in her presence can lift even my dour and humorless spirits. Sometimes I tell her she’s gorgeous just to see her smile, but the best part is that she doesn’t need me to say it for her to know it.

Yet I don’t think even she knows how lovely she really is, or what a triumph her personal struggle has been. To her it’s become normal, as it should be. To her every day is just like any other, a new life and a new world for her to explore, wonderful and yet no less acceptable than hetero life or queer life. I don’t think I even know the words to tell her how much I admire her for that.

But I do know that she’s a beautiful woman, one of the most beautiful that I’ve ever seen. I know that standard conventions of beauty don’t matter when I look at her, because she is every inch what a woman is supposed to be, no matter how she was born, no matter how she looks now. She is a woman’s strength, she is a woman’s resilience, she is a woman’s softness and warmth and dynamic versatility.

But most importantly she is a woman - and to me, Kelly is every inch a goddess.

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

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Today’s Transgender Tale was submitted by Jill, and was originally published in Transgender Tapestry #206 in Winter of 2004.

Rite of Passage

I have a very good friend named Jan, a married woman. We met on line eight or nine years ago. We struck up a conversation in an AOL chat room and were soon writing each other short notes almost every day. At the time I was married to a woman and presenting as male. I was still in deep denial, refusing to confront and come to terms with the gender issues which had relentlessly dogged me since childhood.

Jan and I lived three states away from each other. We corresponded for several months before her family, on vacation, passed through the area where I lived. Jan and I met for coffee. We had planned on talking for half an hour or so. Instead, we spent more that two hours together.

Over time, Jan and I found common interests and shared points of view on many issues. We would discuss religion, politics, her husband, my wife, children, careers, every topic under the sun but one; sex. Neither of us were looking for anything beyond our marriages. It was just not “there” sexually for either of us. We agreed that if there were a sexual overtone to our friendship, it would most likely get in the way. Neither of us wanted to jeopardize the specialness of the friendship. Besides, she could not quite put her finger on it, but she said I was just “different” from any other male she had ever known.

When I finally came out, I was scared to death to tell Jan. We had shared so many things, so many intimacies - but as with my family and other friends, I knew I had to take the risk of losing a relationship with someone for whom I cared for rather than pretending to live differently than who I am. So, over a very long telephone conversation one evening, I told her. She was very surprised but not shocked. After reflecting on the issue for a week or so, she finally said “THAT’S what it is, I KNEW you were different somehow.” Jan has been supportive of my transition ever since.

Prior to my coming out, Jan and I had not disclosed the existence of our friendship to our respective spouses; this was to keep them from thinking there was anything sexual between us. I don’t know where you come from, or how you grew up, but where I come from, a married male just doesn’t make close friends with a married woman unless something is going on on the sly. Now that he knows, her husband thinks I’m totally strange for doing what I am doing. In a way, maybe he’s right.

A year after I came out, my marriage fell apart, and I moved to Phoenix, Jan lives in another community in this same state, but that’s not why I chose to move to Arizona. It’s just a happy coincidence. We see each other every few months when she is in town on business, or when I have gone to visit her. The rest of the time we e-mail, and occasionally call.

Jan has witnessed the various stages of my transition literally from day one. She has seen me as a male; as an “out TS” but still presenting as male; as a newbie starting hormones; as a very rough presentation to the point I was read by the waitress one day when we were at lunch; as a budding woman with a softening of my facial features and small pubescent breasts; and finally as I am now; a confident, post-transitional feminine woman, who lives as such 24/7, and who is fearless about going anywhere in public any other woman would go.

This includes of course any woman’s public restroom - and therein lies the story.

Consciously or not, we interact with others in a way that reflects their perceived gender. Two colleagues go for lunch. It’s strictly professional, but he will still open the door for her. He does not, however, accompany her to the restroom. My relationship with Jan had, until that day, been similar, with the typical male/female dynamics.

On the day in question, Jan was in town to run some errands. We went out to lunch and caught each other up on all the latest gossip and news. After the meal we continued our discussion over coffee. We all know what coffee does. I excused myself to go to the ladies’ room. Jan said, “Wait, I’ll go with you.” So, we, two women, trotted off to the ladies’ restroom, continuing our conversation on the way. We did what we came there to do, each fully aware of what the other was doing in the next stall, yet all the while talking over the partitions. We both then washed our hands, checked our hair and makeup, and returned to the table together.

Neither of us commented on the event, either during or after. The act of doing what she did was very simple; all she did was allow us to pee in each others’ relative presence. Yet by doing so, she forever altered what was left of any male/female dynamics of the relationship.

The act was a subtle, yet distinct acceptance and inclusion of me into womanhood, and into her space as a woman. And for that, I shall forever be grateful more than she will ever realize.

I’m sure many others are grateful to you for sharing this story, and on their behalf I thank you.

~Adri

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

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Why Thursday’s Transgender Tales?

Because I like alliteration. Shut up. Don’t question my alliteration before I’ve had my coffee. I’ll scratch a ho, yo.

Uh. Yeah, okay, I’ve had a little caffeine, you can go back to ignoring my morning crankiness now and move on to the article.

Welcome to the first edition of Thursday’s Transgender Tales. If you missed what that was all about, check out Monday’s post. In the meantime, our first tale comes from Jack/Mary Jane:

Hello,

I came across your call for submissions and thought it would be nice to have a positive story to add to your collection.

I am a very blessed man. I am a transgendered male with a very loving and accepting wife and family. And it’s mostly been that way all of my life.

Probably one of the most touching moments of my life happened one christmas. It was the christmas after my parents fully understood what I was all about. I used to go by pseudonym Mary Jane Capri (out of fear, embarrassment, I’m not really sure) when I first allowed my cross dressing nature to become fully public.

I had visited my parents one christmas. The visit was the usual fun, happy time. When I started to get in my car to leave my dad hugged me (he always does) and said “Tell Mary Jane Merry Christmas.” I told him I would and left. I think it took me a less than a block of driving before I started to cry tears of joy. With that simple wish, my father ensured me that they loved me for who and what I was.

Since then I have had total confidence in myself - which enables me to wear the skirts and dresses I wear (no make up or wigs here.) That’s not to say it’s been a completely easy-going life. There have been issues at times but nothing I haven’t been able to endure…with the help and love of my family.

Thank you for letting me share.

I think I may have gotten a little confused in the terminology used there, but nonetheless, thanks for being the first to write in, Jack/MJ. And thanks for sharing that story of having such a wonderful family. I hope to hear from and share the stories of many others.

~Adri

Are you a MtF or FtM transgender/transsexual/transvestite/crossdresser, or considering/questioning? Want to share your story or motivational anecdote? E-mail your story to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Transgender Tales” or use the Contact Form to send your story in.

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Today is an “Adri’s brain is mush” day (still getting over being sick, and some days are worse than others) so today’s post will be neither deep (ha, like I’m capable of that), insightful, nor amusingly snarktastic. I have a request for you first (other than please pass the tissues and medicate this cold to death), and then just a little informational look at the world of gay-related headlines for the morning, with a few tired attempts at sardonic commentary. So! Here we go!

Transgender Tales: Call for Submissions
After so many transgendered individuals spoke up on this post about dating transgenders, I was thinking about instituting something called Transgender Tales: a post, once a week, featuring a story or testimonial from a transgendered person. There are many assumptions made about transgenders, many incorrect, many unintentionally cruel, and sometimes the only way to educate people is to tell your stories and to make sure they’re seen. So MtF, FtM, questioning somewhere in between…what’s your story? What made you decide to transition, or what was the most memorable moment of your transitioned life? What do you have to say to the world at large?

Please write to me at adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net or use the contact form on the site. If you prefer to use a false name for privacy, that’s no problem. Just make sure, if e-mailing me from an address that uses your first and last name in the sender field, to remind me to use another name.

Daily News Roundup

First, in local news (local for me, anyway): M/M romance writer Laura Baumbach talks about her treatment at the Romantic Times convention at the Houston Hyatt. Apparently her promotional materials were taken down and replaced with het material that was more racy than hers, and yet the content was still named as a reason for the removal by a rather dismissive and insulting hotel employee.

Gay troop proponent serves America honorably: Gay servicemen and servicewomen are rallying at all levels of the military, from in-the-trenches grunt to high-ranking admirals, to prove that gays in the military do exist and serve their country just as well as their straight counterparts. Hell, if you ask me, I’d rather have another queer guarding my butt; he’s much more likely to protect it if he wants to do naughty things to it later.

Former Gay Governor McGreevey to Enter Priesthood: This isn’t really new news as it’s been going around for days, but I couldn’t resist commenting anyway. Am I the only one hoping this isn’t going to give rise to another slew of jokes about gay Catholic priests by people attempting to be clever (and failing)?

Gay nuptial activists in overdrive: Setting aside the fact that for some reason the use of “in” instead of “on” in the article’s title twerks my nerves even though it’s not incorrect, I found the tactics mentioned in this article to be at once amusing and charming. Ice cream socials? Why don’t I get invited to ice cream socials when someone wants to convince me of something? Even when we’re working our bums off to win lawmakers over and block a proposed Massachusetts gay marriage ban, we have to do it in fabulous style, don’t we?

Study shows gay moms make good parents: No, really? You mean those scary lesbian-things aren’t psychotic animals who abandon and/or abuse their young at the first chance? Lesbian parents are just as or more caring and nurturing than straight parents? I’d never have imagined that in all my wildest dreams!

Snark aside, I’m glad to see this kind of news making the media. To me it’s just common sense that gay and lesbian parents are going to love and care for their children - biological or adopted - just as much as straight parents would, but then with me it’s preaching to the choir and I don’t have this strange notion that gay parents are somehow lacking and/or abnormal.

And that’s it from me today. Dayquil. Tea. Tissue. Bed. G’bye.

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Dear Adri:

I’ve been friends with this girl for several years now. She’s on the verge of graduating high school, and since we met, I’ve watched her go from being a very shy and awkward little girl to being a self-confident, mostly outgoing young woman. She’s the sister I never had, in many ways, and I love her dearly.

The only problem? She’s been driving me frickin’ -insane- the past few months. She met a guy through a friend who graduated last year, and now all she can talk about is him. “J this” and “J that”. She’s been putting her grades at risk by staying up way too late every night to talk to J. She has freely admitted her infatuation with him, and how she’s jealous of his other relationships…with men. J is gay.

He’s also leading her on, big time. My friend is head-over-heels for J, and he knows it - which he used to get oral sex from her when she visited him and his friend at their uni last weekend. I guess he’s bisexual when it’s to his personal benefit, though all of his networking profiles have the word “gay” about every three sentences. Anyway, my point is, she’s driving me crazy with this shit. I know that infatuations can happen for no rhyme or reason…but she’s also being totally unrealistic. Her greatest wish is for J to suddenly turn straight.

Now, me, I’m fairly realistic, and I’ve told her in varying ways and with various degrees of tact that she doesn’t have a chance with him, and he’s not just going to start dating her just because she gave him [oral]. But apparently, that makes me “a mean [b****]”.

How can I handle this situation? I’d frankly like to keep doing what I’ve -been- doing and change the subject when J comes up, but she’s started floating away from reality and really needs to be brought back down to earth.

Well, thanks for reading it, at least.

Signed,
Whatever happened to just being a happy fag hag?

First: I didn’t know happy fag hags existed.

Second: Damn, girl. I didn’t need your life story. You talk more than I do, and that’s sayin’ a lot.

Third: Only answer I’ve got for you is to mind your own business. Seriously. J’s not gay, J’s a horny a**hole who’s only gay when it’s convenient to get away from girls like your friend, and bi when he wants them on their knees. The problem isn’t that he’s gay and she’s waiting unrealistically for him to turn straight. It has nothing to do with his sexuality at all; it has to do with the fact that he’s a self-serving jerk who leads people on. You’ll find ‘em everywhere - male, female, gay, straight, bi, etc. He could “turn straight” and he’d still be treating her the same way.

It’s not your problem. Your friend’s an idiot. You said your piece, and later when she gets burned and comes crying to you, you can say “I told you so” even while being a good friend and patting her on the back. You can’t force her to act sensibly, though. If talking to her doesn’t bring her back down to earth, then there’s nothing else that you can do and honestly? If you try to be proactive, in the end you’re going to get screwed over. I’ve seen it happen too many times; whatever efforts you take will, in the end, be blamed for the other person’s unhappiness…rather than their own idiotic decisions. Then she’ll stop being like the sister you never had and start being the person who hates you just for trying to help. Seriously. She’s already calling you a mean b**** for being blunt with her. What do you think is going to happen if you do anything more? Even if you “save her from herself”, as the saying goes…do you really think it’s going to turn out well when she turns on you? Do you think she’s going to appreciate it?

Step back. Mind your own business. Let them be responsible for their own crash and burn, but be there to help pick up the pieces when it’s over; sometimes people (especially teenagers, and man, why is she giving this guy oral when she’s not even out of high school yet?) only learn by experience, and it sounds as if she’s not going to figure out the problem with this situation until she’s already hurt herself and gotten over it. If you’re happy with changing the subject, why are you worrying about this? You did the right thing in advising against it, now stop trying to be Mother Theresa and fixing the world’s problems. You might want to focus on a few of your own first.

And J, if you’re out there? Stop being a dick.

Speaking as one with his own issues,
~Adri

Have a question you’d like to see answered on Ask Adri? E-mail your question to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Ask Adri Question” or use the Contact Form to send your question in.

P.S. Completely off-topic from the original subject of the post, but….dear CNN: if “she” is FtM, then “she” would be “he”, thank you very much. Likewise “her” and “hers” would be “his”, and he would probably appreciate being referred to as Tony and not by anything else. It may be a novel concept to grasp, but I’d think showing that small bit of respect would be fairly easy for a CNN reporter. At the very least do a better job of explaining it and set a better example.

P.P.S. This definitely has nothing to do with the original topic of this post, but if I seem distracted this week, blame it on the PS2. Final Fantasy VII: Dirge of Cerberus and Vincent Valentine have claimed my soul for the next few days. Why yes, I am a game geek. Why does that surprise you?

Ask Adri, fag hag, advice, relationships, gay/straight relationships, Cinthia Covarrubias, Tony Covarrubias, FtM, transgender, prom king, Fresno, Fresno High School

Since the other day’s poll on dating transgendered individuals turned into such a hot topic, I decided to keep with the theme and pull out this little gem from the mail bag for today’s Ask Adri column:

Dear Adri

Im 32M married two kids. I love my wife but i think about wearing her clothes a lot and being a woman. Ive been thinking about this a long time and sometimes I cd but its not enough. Its not just a sex kink. I think I wantto go all the way but I dont want to lose my wife and kids if I become a woman. I dont know what to do. Advice plz?

Thx
Curious2BFem

…man, am I glad I bought a new coffee pot before tackling this one.

All right, Curious. The first thing that I want to tell you is that you’re not alone in this. Many transwomen and transmen don’t come to the realization that they’ve had the need to transition to their chosen gender until after they’ve settled into what some consider a “normal” life as someone’s husband or wife, father or mother. It’s often a result of pressure to follow a preset path, rather than deviating to explore the path of understanding one’s own identity to be happy. To offer encouragement, many transwomen and transmen have supportive spouses and children who stay with them and continue to love them through the difficult struggle of transition and the change in life that comes afterwards. To be realistic, though, things like this can break a family apart. It’s unfortunate, it shouldn’t happen, but that’s life. Where you fall in the spectrum remains to be seen.

Before you think about doing anything, make sure you’re well-educated on what you intend to do. There are many websites (T-Vox.org, TSRoadmap.com, GenderTalk, you’ll find many others via Google) with resources for people thinking about transitioning, already in the process, or well settled into transitioned life.

Transition is a process that can seem both glamorous and terrifying; you’re proposing making a great deal of mostly permanent changes to your body, which either cannot be reversed or can only be reversed with expensive surgery when you’ve already spent a bomb on the initial surgery. Even if you only take hormones without any surgical options, that’s going to cause changes in your body chemistry resulting in adjustments to your physiology and the almost certain growth of breasts that aren’t going to magically melt away if you stop the injections. This isn’t a decision that you can make lightly, or even in a short period of time. You may take the first step towards transition fully intending to do everything possible to make yourself over into a transwoman, and then change your mind along the way about how far you want to go. That’s all right. Take it one step at a time and before you do anything, consult your physician about the effects that this will have on your health.

You know who else you may want to consult? Your wife. Talk to her, and listen to her; she may be angry or upset at first, but try not to get angry in return. Your best bet is to calmly, quietly explain to her how you feel, why, and what you’d like to do. Don’t lay down any ultimatums; you may make her feel cornered in the surprise of the moment, and cause an impulse reaction. If transition is something that you absolutely can’t live without, you are going to have to make her understand that, but ease her into it…and try to be willing to compromise where you can, or take things at a slower pace while she adjusts to the fact that her husband wants to become her wife and she’ll be moving from a heterosexual marriage into what is essentially a lesbian one.

It sounds as if your family is very important to you; if you love them and they love you they’ll often stick by you through just about anything, but that requires patience and communication on both sides. They may be angry at first; try to allow them that, if you can. Anger is a natural reaction when faced with something surprising and confusing, often knee-jerk and causing them to say things they don’t really think or feel. It will pass with patience and understanding, and if you’re willing to talk them down from it rather than shout it out, you’ll find them much more open and willing to accept what you have to say after the initial shock fades.

Understand that while you may be doing this for yourself, it is going to have an effect on your family outside the home and you need to consider that responsibly. If you begin to publicly transition, it will reflect on how people act towards you, your wife, and your children in social environments; some reactions will be awkward but polite, some encouraging, and some downright hostile. I’m not telling you this to discourage you; I’m telling you to prepare you, and so that you can prepare them if they decide to hang on with you through thick and thin. I’m hoping that they do. You’ll be in for many trials, and you’ll need each other to stand against them.

Give them as much information and support as you can; educate them as you educated yourself, so that you’re all standing on even footing. You may want to direct them towards organizations such as PFlag, as sometimes it helps to speak to others with transgendered family members to understand their experiences.

Remember that you’ll also be dealing with your extended family, both by blood and by marriage, and that they may have to be eased into this. There’s also a matter of name changes (should you choose to) and, depending on how far you go, asking a court to grant legal recognition of your new gender status once you’ve met certain requirements. Be prepared to spend quite a bit of money; the court costs will be the least of it. I won’t say it “might” be costly. It will be costly. Often it’s money and little else that stops people from following the transitional path of their choosing.

Once you educate yourself a bit more and come to a decision as to what to do: assuming that decision is to go full-steam-ahead with transition, try to find your nearest reputable GBLTQ clinic, or at least one known to be friendly. Google can again help you with this, and I’d recommend finding a TG/TS/TV group on Yahoo Groups or another social network, as you’ll find many supportive people there with a few inside tips on local resources. You’ll need a physical, blood tests, a prescription, the fortitude to stick yourself with a huge honkin’ needle (I’ve watched one of my MtF friends do it and it still makes me shudder), and most likely a therapist. Sometimes the therapist comes before the prescription, sometimes the other way around; it’s less a chicken/egg issue and more a matter of what your physician requires. Some will administer a prescription for estrogen after having a talk with you and determining that you understand what you’re undertaking and accept full responsibility for it; others require that you seek counseling with someone experienced with issues regarding gender identity.

Regardless of if your physician requires it or not, I’d recommend finding a trans-friendly therapist. You’re going to go through a number of ups and downs, from the novelty and joy of discovery and new experiences to the disappointments of dealing with some less-than-pleasant reactions to your choice…and if you take estrogen that’s going to affect your moods as well as you go through hormone cycles and your body chemistry shifts. You’ll need an experienced guiding hand to help hold you together so you come sailing through in one piece.

If you do go through with it, good luck, and I hope that things work out well for both you and your family. You’ll face a great deal of difficulty and social stigma, and criticism both from without the GBLTQ community and, unfortunately, from within. Remember that no matter how far you choose to go and whatever surgical or hormonal options you do or do not choose…no one can tell you how much of a woman you are except for you. Do as much as you need to make yourself happy, and don’t force anything excessive to meet another’s standards of what makes a “real” transwoman. Even if you wholly disdain hormones and surgery but adopt a female identity through crossdressing and shift of behavior/role, you’re as much of a woman as you need to be, as long as you’re happy.

“You go, girl” as a few people stuck in the 90s are wont to say,
~Adri

Have a question you’d like to see answered on Ask Adri? E-mail your question to adrien-luc.sanders@451press.net with the subject “Ask Adri Question” or use the Contact Form to send your question in.

relationships, ftm, mtf, male-to-female, female-to-male, transgender, transsexual, gay transgender, lesbian transgender, transgender marriages, cross-dressing, gbltq, transition, sex change, gender reassignment

Before we move on to the usual, let’s have a moment of silence for the victims and survivors of the Virginia Tech shooting. I don’t care if it’s topical to this blog or not. They deserve a little acknowledgment and respect.

Back to business and today’s blog topic in the world of the wonderfully gay…uh…well, crud. I skimmed the headlines and found very little that actually roused my interest enough to go on one of my long-winded tirades. Sometimes it really does seem like the same carousel of issues swirled about in repetitive circles, and I’m so sick of talking about yet another wankery regarding the Church (whatever Church it is this week) and homosexuality. So you know what? We’re not. Instead we’re going to get a little personal, tell a bit of a story, and then ask you a few questions.

I have a friend - stop looking so shocked that anyone can put up with my acidic tongue - that we’ll call Jason for the sake of his privacy. Jason, my friends, is gorgeous. He’s also funny, sweet, responsible, and well-educated with a stable job. He likes kids (why, I don’t know) and is dying to meet just that right guy to have and to hold. Hell, I’d date him myself, if I didn’t think I was too mean for him and if I wasn’t caught up in my own conflicted romantic mess. Still, Jason’s not short for suitors…but they never last very long once they get to know a certain thing about him.

Jason isn’t just any other gay guy. Jason is FtM (female-to-male) transgendered.

I’m sure there are some people out there asking “wtf?! Do people do that?!” Most people think of MtF (male-to-female) transgenders when someone mentions transgenders, transsexuals, transvestites, etc. When people do find out that FtM transgenders exist, they usually assume they’re just butcher-than-butch lesbians who decided to just go male.

Not so. There’s a huge difference between a woman who desires other women, and someone born in a female body who nonetheless feels strongly that they should have been born male - strongly enough to take medical and surgical measures to correct it. One’s sexual identity is wholly separate from one’s gender identity…which is why one thing that hurts Jason more than anything is the rather nasty comments that he gets about how if he was going to continue to date men, he should have stayed female.

The thing is, if you understand what it means to transition…Jason was never female to start with. Trust me, it took a lot of long late-night talks over stale pizza for me to understand this, too…but Jason’s my friend and I wanted to know, and he didn’t mind telling me. The way he sees it, he was a man born in a female body. He just happened to be a gay man born in a female body, and that’s what’s causing him the most grief.

Because he’s pre-operative (he’s on hormones, but hasn’t had any surgery and binds his breasts to flatten his chest), most of the men that he dates see him as just a woman, once they find out. It doesn’t matter that Jason looks manlier than I do (and could probably bench-press me for fun). It doesn’t matter that he can grow a beard, doesn’t matter that to all outside appearances while fully clothed, no one would ever take him for anything other than a man. No one cares about that. No one cares about what a nice guy he is, what a great friend he is, all the other winning traits that would have guys falling over him if he’d just been born with the right anatomy. No one cares about him.

Just about what he lacks between his legs.

He’s tried dating bisexual men, but it doesn’t work; they either treat him as a woman (down to calling him by female pronouns) or dump him because his anatomy isn’t masculine enough. It makes me wonder just how shallow we really are - and I don’t just mean gay men, though it’s gay men that have caused Jason most of his heartbreak. Men, women, gay, straight…when it comes to attraction both romantic and sexual, do we care about the person more than we care about their looks and their anatomy? Or do we focus first on physical traits, ignoring everything else about this person until they’ve satisfied some base requirement?

With that thought in mind, I’m curious about you..how you choose, and if a person being transgendered would matter to you. So if you’ve got a moment, I’d appreciate it if you’d take this anonymous poll. Be honest - after all, it is anonymous. Who would know?

dating, romance, relationships, ftm, mtf, male-to-female, female-to-male, transgender, transsexual, gay transgender, lesbian transgender