I feel pretty lucky. I am in an area: of my life, of Washington, and emotionally, that I can transition and not be to concerned about things. I dress as a myself everyday. The way things look I am 2 and half years from completing my transitions.
yet, I am guilty. I am starting to see the other side of the coin. the health reasons that don't allow a transition, the complications with injury or with medications. the physical boundaries. The being to big, too hairy, to many tattoos. Aside from the limitations of health, society has pretty much laid the ground rules regarding who can transition and who can't. It's unwritten, there was no committee, there were no votes. No one lobbied for or against it. It just happened.
Why is it that society has decided that they know best? Why can't society leave well enough alone and let us be who the hell we are? So what if my shoulders are bigger then an average woman. Or if I don't have the prettiest tattoos. Who really cares? Apparently those in society.
Who is it really that is making these rules. Well, honestly, it's ourselves. We see women in magazine, on TV in real life, on social media. We see them as a certain image and we feel that we have to look like that.
But remember, it's an average. There are plenty of women that have wider shoulders, and tattoos, lots of them.
We get so self-conscious about it, that we can't see past our own fear.
Take a step out, a small step, really small and see how that feels. Do that one thing until your comfortable and it's second nature. Then do one more small thing. Keep doing that.
Obviously, there are things that will keep some people down and unable to transition to their true selves. For them you have my deepest and sincerest apologies.
Sunday, December 18, 2011
Sunday, November 20, 2011
TDOR - Transgender Day of Rememberance
Today is November 20th 2011. It's the day set aside for the transgender day of rememberance. It's the day that we honor those who have been victimized with murder simply because of who they are.
I put in a post: "I believe this day should be to remember those who we have lost out of our community. We have the rest of the year to gear up for change, to be activists, to make the changes that must come. This is the one day we can give to those that have been lost. Lets not take it from them. Lets honor them as we would honor any hero who has died for the cause. *this is my humble opinion*"
As my wife read the thread on FB, she mentioned something that has got me thinking. Although I stick to what I said, that we NEED to honor those who have died, we need to remember two things. Their deaths are not "for nothing". Yes it was senseless, violent and unjust. We should remember them all in our hearts.
Second, my wife pointed out that there is no such thing for those suffering or who have died from spousal abuse, breast cancer or the like. There is no special day for them.
I agree that each "group" should have a day set aside to remember those that have fallen in that specific category. I believe it's a right that each group have their own day to do this in. Those that didn't choose to put there lives on the line for the rights the rest of us now enjoy are entitled to rememberance, and it's the responsibility of that group to make that happen.
So what about those that are not in that group? My wife is a wife of a trans-woman. Me. She supports me in the way I am living my life and the choices I have to make to be the person I am today and will be for the rest of my life, Gods and Godesses willing. She is not a "member" of the breast cancer "club". She is a part of the group that survived spousal abuse. She is a "beaten child" survivor as am I.
We fit into our own groups, not from what we have done in our lives but because of the choices those around us, and often times, trust, have made for us and to us.
What do we do for those souls?
TDOR was started by one person with an idea and put that idea into practice. Can't we do the same for the other groups? Can't we make it more prevalent to the rest of society? Make them more aware? We see things on TV all the time about violence in the home, child abuse, breast cancer, spousal abuse, starvation in other countries as well as our own, homelessness. We have the occupy movements now trying to get the 1% to hear and become more equal to the 99%.
There is no good reason that the rest of society can't be made more aware of the things that are going on.
Transgender is not a new term. It's been around a long time. Those that are transgender, are making strides for advancement of rights and responsibilities.
I think it's time that these other GROUPS recognized.
Tonight we are attending the TDOR in Tacoma. It's a first for me and a first for my family. We do not know what to expect and I have to say that I am a little more than nervous about what will happen and how I will be received.
This morning I woke up excited to go and honor those that have fallen like any other hero, now I go with the thoughts of the fallen transgender, breast cancer, spousal abuse and many more in my heart.
This is not a night for only one group anymore. It may be transgender focused but it will be "ALL INCLUSIVE".
To see a list of those we honor tonight, please go here: http://www.transgenderdor.org/?page_id=1663
I put in a post: "I believe this day should be to remember those who we have lost out of our community. We have the rest of the year to gear up for change, to be activists, to make the changes that must come. This is the one day we can give to those that have been lost. Lets not take it from them. Lets honor them as we would honor any hero who has died for the cause. *this is my humble opinion*"
As my wife read the thread on FB, she mentioned something that has got me thinking. Although I stick to what I said, that we NEED to honor those who have died, we need to remember two things. Their deaths are not "for nothing". Yes it was senseless, violent and unjust. We should remember them all in our hearts.
Second, my wife pointed out that there is no such thing for those suffering or who have died from spousal abuse, breast cancer or the like. There is no special day for them.
I agree that each "group" should have a day set aside to remember those that have fallen in that specific category. I believe it's a right that each group have their own day to do this in. Those that didn't choose to put there lives on the line for the rights the rest of us now enjoy are entitled to rememberance, and it's the responsibility of that group to make that happen.
So what about those that are not in that group? My wife is a wife of a trans-woman. Me. She supports me in the way I am living my life and the choices I have to make to be the person I am today and will be for the rest of my life, Gods and Godesses willing. She is not a "member" of the breast cancer "club". She is a part of the group that survived spousal abuse. She is a "beaten child" survivor as am I.
We fit into our own groups, not from what we have done in our lives but because of the choices those around us, and often times, trust, have made for us and to us.
What do we do for those souls?
TDOR was started by one person with an idea and put that idea into practice. Can't we do the same for the other groups? Can't we make it more prevalent to the rest of society? Make them more aware? We see things on TV all the time about violence in the home, child abuse, breast cancer, spousal abuse, starvation in other countries as well as our own, homelessness. We have the occupy movements now trying to get the 1% to hear and become more equal to the 99%.
There is no good reason that the rest of society can't be made more aware of the things that are going on.
Transgender is not a new term. It's been around a long time. Those that are transgender, are making strides for advancement of rights and responsibilities.
I think it's time that these other GROUPS recognized.
Tonight we are attending the TDOR in Tacoma. It's a first for me and a first for my family. We do not know what to expect and I have to say that I am a little more than nervous about what will happen and how I will be received.
This morning I woke up excited to go and honor those that have fallen like any other hero, now I go with the thoughts of the fallen transgender, breast cancer, spousal abuse and many more in my heart.
This is not a night for only one group anymore. It may be transgender focused but it will be "ALL INCLUSIVE".
To see a list of those we honor tonight, please go here: http://www.transgenderdor.org/?page_id=1663
Friday, November 18, 2011
Finding out Cayleigh was trans.. my perspective
For those who may read this and don't know, Cayleigh and I were high school sweethearts. We were separated and then kept apart through a series of events beyond our control. I never quit loving her, I never quit looking for her, I never quit hoping.
When we were in high school, Cayleigh was James. She was the epitome of masculine to me, reminded me of my grandfather (the only man I ever truly loved and trusted to that point in my life) and was everything I ever wanted. I thought she was drop-dead gorgeous and I fell so totally and completely in love that when we were lost from each other, I felt as if I'd been widowed - my heart violently ripped from my chest. Throughout the years I tried to find her, and finally I did - on myspace. I messaged her.. and never heard back.. so I emailed her wife. I told Tammy that I really had no intention of messing up their marriage, that I was married as well.. and that I really just needed to know that James was okay and to try to find some closure for our relationship since I was still hurting from it almost 20 years later.
The response I got was from a Jayla Wills and she told me that she'd been James and was trans.. and that she had no clue who I was. Hrm. I wasn't quite sure what to do with any of that.. except to back the hell off. Anyone who knows me knows that I have to think everything to death.. and then I'm able to resolve my feelings and I'm okay with pretty much anything.
So.. in thinking about this, my first thought was simply just 'wow.. that's a turn of his life I never expected' - followed closely by wondering if it was PTSD related and more the result of crappy parenting and being told something was 'wrong' with him by his bastard of a father in early childhood when self-esteem is formed. From there, it was guilt. How on earth did I not know something so incredibly important about someone who meant everything to me? How much did he suffer trying to be something he wasn't and I never, ever knew? Then, I moved on to anger.. not over the transition, but on the not knowing who I was part. Seriously? We were engaged and you said you'd love me forever but you had no clue who I was???? Jerk.
A few months later, I decided that I really needed to try to be a friend to this Jayla.. even though I didn't know her. James had been important enough to me that even though we obviously weren't meant to be a couple, I still wanted to offer my support and friendship. This time, the reception was worse. Again, she had no idea who I was.. but wanted to know if any of a series of events she remembered pieces of were with me. Nope, not a single one of them. I knew who they were about, gave her that information and decided I was done. I couldn't open my heart and be hurt again.
Month after month, I drove my children to ballet. Crossing both James street and Willis street.. each and every time. I couldn't stop thinking about her.. and the anger grew and grew and grew. She sent me chat requests.. emails.. wanting to know who I was and why I'd contacted her twice. I ignored her. She joined facebook and sent me a friend request. After thinking about it for a few days, I accepted.. and decided I wouldn't allow any closer of a relationship than posts such as 'happy birthday' or 'get well soon.' I was going to be damned if I allowed this Jayla chick back in my life. I hated the name.. I thought it sounded like a butch bully in a prison yard.. the kind you wanted to avoid at all costs. I figured that was another sign to stay far away.
She went further into her transition.. having the first surgery and posting on facebook that she'd been able to change her birth certificate and gender marker on her drivers license to female. She seemed genuinely thrilled by this. I felt myself start to soften.
Meanwhile, in my life.. my marriage was ending. Painfully, unexpectedly.. just nothing left. Eighteen years, gone in the blink of an eye. In trying to decide what to do, in where to go with my life.. I decided that maybe.. just maybe.. if I were to talk to Jayla and be able to find closure on the only relationship that I'd ever been willing to die for.. maybe then I'd be able to fix my marriage. It was worth a shot at least.
I emailed Jayla on November 2nd, 2009. I told her that I wanted her to know I was fully supportive of her transition, although I was a little concerned as to whether it was really her truth or if it was PTSD related. I told her that I'd been ignoring her chat requests and such because I was so incredibly hurt by the fact that she didn't remember me.. that I really just needed to find closure with her and our relationship and then I'd leave her alone.. but be there to support her on her path if she wanted or needed as a distant friend.
She responded telling me about her beating.. and asking me to tell her our story since she had obviously been so important to me. I did, the memories came flooding back.. and I begged her to forgive me.. while I respected the truth of her being Jayla at this point in time, I needed to find a way to cope with the past.. and I asked her to understand that I had to do that with James. I wasn't trying to minimize her transition or anything of that nature.. but the healing I had to do wasn't with Jayla.. it wasn't with the present, it was totally 1000% in the past. She seemed to be okay with that and we went forward with trying to heal. It was terribly hard for her.. due to the beating, she really honestly doesn't remember and wasn't able to give me the answers I so desperately needed.. so she simply did a lot of listening.. appologizing for the pain I'd been through and telling me she'd never meant to hurt me. She gave me a gift in that.. knowing that I wasn't simply unimportant and forgettable meant an awful lot.
We started talking about meeting. I told her I really wasn't sure how I'd react. I had absolutely no issues with her being female, with dressing in women's clothes or wearing makeup or anything else. However, I was healing from my relationship with James.. and I hadn't reached a point in which the two were one and the same for me. I told her it didn't matter how feminine she was.. I'd be searching for James. I didn't think I could call her Jayla at that point.. and I appologized profusely. I felt so very guilty because I felt like in needing to find healing with the past and in needing to do that with the one and only person who ever broke my heart, I wasn't being supportive of her transition. I felt like if I could just heal with James, I could let go of him and be a friend to this new person.. but I wasn't ready to let go yet. I'd spent 20 years hurting and searching and missing him every day of my freaking life. Being told he no longer existed was like dying all over again. I couldn't accept it. I could accept Jayla.. no problem.. but I couldn't accept losing James when I'd been so close to finding him after all those years. It was selfish and horrible of me, I thought... but I wasn't strong enough to simply let go.
In our talking, she decided that she needed to return to male. She needed to heal from the past together with me, to make sure that she was doing the right thing, etc. In doing this, Tammy kicked her out of their home. She said she'd been fine with Jayla being in love with me.. but she'd gotten her husband 'back' and seeing him in love with someone else.. wanting to put her arms around him and knowing it wouldn't be welcomed... well, she couldn't cope with that.
They got divorced, Eric and I got divorced.. and James and I resumed our relationship where we'd left off 20 years before. I admit that I was grateful to have James back.. although at times I was horribly resentful of things that reminded me of when he'd been Jayla.. the butterfly tattoo on his back, the lack of testosterone, the fact that we'd never be able to have a biological child. Since she's resumed her transition.. all these things just seem natural and right, but at the time, I have to admit they bothered me. It was a reminder of a life without me.. of a place where I was forgotten. Of course, I was resentful of the fact that he'd had a life without me overall.. and terribly, continually afraid that he'd want one without me again.
We married and my health started to take a nose dive. The first year of marriage, blending a family.. not like that's not enough of a challenge. We had to add in my mental status becoming terribly fragile. I was so very happy, so much in love.. but hateful and suicidal. It made no sense, until we figured out the connection with my PCOS and got me started on metformin again. I grew really fearful and terrified of losing James. I got stuck in the past, and I couldn't get out of it. It didn't matter how much he reassured me.. I couldn't stop the fears. Then, I was threatenned at a store and we got into this loop of PTSD/OCD/Anxiety that was so severe that James almost moved out. I'm on a low dose of prozac for this now and all is good, but it was SO horrible for awhile there. I'm amazed our love kept us together through it all.
In the middle of my complete and total mental breakdown described above, James sent me a series of text messages one morning.. letting me know that he was getting more and more angry and depressed and resentful (I'd known this, but figured it was all because of me and my issues) and that he was overwhelmed with wanting to continue the transition to female. My first reaction was to ask him to give me time to accept it.. I was standing on quicksand after all.. and this caused a huge fight. He said I'd accepted it before, so why the issue now.. and that he shouldn't have to wait because my coping skills were non-existant. Absolute truth.. but totally not what I was getting at.
I'm bi. I don't care if she's female or male or anything else because it simply doesn't matter. I love her. I loved her for 20 years and we'd never done anything beyond kiss. Hell, she'd never even felt me up.. and so it's pretty safe to say that my love for her had absolutely nothing to do with gender. When I listed the things I loved about her.. really the only thing that could and would change if she became female was her arm muscles. Beyond that, there was nothing on my list that was going to be any different.
I wanted to be able to get myself back on level ground so that we could face any challenges that came together. I didn't want her to leave me behind as she found herself. I couldn't bear that pain again. I wanted to be in a good place emotionally so that I could adequately suppport her and not leave her alone to deal with her fears and heartaches. I wanted it to be OUR journey, not just hers.
I had a great deal of fears and some misunderstandings we had to face.. I was afraid her therapist would tell her to leave me.. I was afraid she'd decide she was interested in men.. I was afraid she'd no longer want me - emotionally, physically or spiritually. I was afraid of losing custody of my children, afraid of any sort of teasing they'd go through, afraid my son wouldn't have a role model any longer as he learns to become a man. I was terrified our marriage would no longer be legal, afraid she'd shove me away and shut me out and worried I'd cause her harm in my attempt to be supportive and loving. Above all, I was simply terrified I'd lose her and I couldn't handle that.
I'm resistant to change. Not good with it at all... and things were a little hard for awhile. I was afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and making her believe I wasn't supportive. I had to admit I hated the name Jayla.. and told her I really was upset about losing her middle name since my oldest daughter had been named for her. We chose a new first name together and decided to have her middle name match Lindsey's.. and I felt infinitely better. Major decision and we'd made it together. Cayleigh started asking my opinion on things like her hair and makeup.. and I started to feel reassured that I was still wanted and needed. I think she started to feel more secure in the fact that my love for her is honestly unconditional. She's so much happier and healthier emotionally and I have zero doubt that this is her truth. I feel grateful that we're able to walk this journey together. It's been interesting to now be identified as lesbian.. but I'm good with it. The kids are doing great with the entire thing and I think our family has benefitted by Cayleigh's transition as she's more honest, open and present with us now.
I have found it interesting to have found things that make me angry. I get really upset when people refer to her as male or use the wrong name... having to say 'husband' and 'James' on medical forms really annoys me. It might be correct legally.. but it's not truth. We'll get that fixed as soon as we're able to. My biggest pet peeve though is people who believe that people who are trans are so by choice.. that they're 'doing' something to their spouse or family or whatever by coming out. Cayleigh has gone through years of not being comfortable in her skin, of misery and hiding.. and now, by being who she is, she's 'doing' something to us? Sure.. she's showing my children that no matter what they'll be accepted and loved.. she's being happy, which translates into a benefit for our family.. she's being real... she's being true. What about what all the cis-gendered folk are 'doing' to those who are trans by forcing them to be something they're not?? It really bothers me.
I love my wife. She is my world, my universe, my everything. I've loved her from the days we were James and Jodi, to when I found her again as Jayla, through my name change to Breanna.. and now as Cayleigh and Breanna. It's been a long road, but it's taken us 22 years to get here. I'll be damned if I'll lose her again. It's not to say that her being trans is a trivial thing - but to me, it's relatively unimportant. While it's a part of her, so are her beautiful brown eyes and her curly hair... being trans doesn't define her, it doesn't define us, it doesn't define our family. It's simply just another piece of the puzzle.
When we were in high school, Cayleigh was James. She was the epitome of masculine to me, reminded me of my grandfather (the only man I ever truly loved and trusted to that point in my life) and was everything I ever wanted. I thought she was drop-dead gorgeous and I fell so totally and completely in love that when we were lost from each other, I felt as if I'd been widowed - my heart violently ripped from my chest. Throughout the years I tried to find her, and finally I did - on myspace. I messaged her.. and never heard back.. so I emailed her wife. I told Tammy that I really had no intention of messing up their marriage, that I was married as well.. and that I really just needed to know that James was okay and to try to find some closure for our relationship since I was still hurting from it almost 20 years later.
The response I got was from a Jayla Wills and she told me that she'd been James and was trans.. and that she had no clue who I was. Hrm. I wasn't quite sure what to do with any of that.. except to back the hell off. Anyone who knows me knows that I have to think everything to death.. and then I'm able to resolve my feelings and I'm okay with pretty much anything.
So.. in thinking about this, my first thought was simply just 'wow.. that's a turn of his life I never expected' - followed closely by wondering if it was PTSD related and more the result of crappy parenting and being told something was 'wrong' with him by his bastard of a father in early childhood when self-esteem is formed. From there, it was guilt. How on earth did I not know something so incredibly important about someone who meant everything to me? How much did he suffer trying to be something he wasn't and I never, ever knew? Then, I moved on to anger.. not over the transition, but on the not knowing who I was part. Seriously? We were engaged and you said you'd love me forever but you had no clue who I was???? Jerk.
A few months later, I decided that I really needed to try to be a friend to this Jayla.. even though I didn't know her. James had been important enough to me that even though we obviously weren't meant to be a couple, I still wanted to offer my support and friendship. This time, the reception was worse. Again, she had no idea who I was.. but wanted to know if any of a series of events she remembered pieces of were with me. Nope, not a single one of them. I knew who they were about, gave her that information and decided I was done. I couldn't open my heart and be hurt again.
Month after month, I drove my children to ballet. Crossing both James street and Willis street.. each and every time. I couldn't stop thinking about her.. and the anger grew and grew and grew. She sent me chat requests.. emails.. wanting to know who I was and why I'd contacted her twice. I ignored her. She joined facebook and sent me a friend request. After thinking about it for a few days, I accepted.. and decided I wouldn't allow any closer of a relationship than posts such as 'happy birthday' or 'get well soon.' I was going to be damned if I allowed this Jayla chick back in my life. I hated the name.. I thought it sounded like a butch bully in a prison yard.. the kind you wanted to avoid at all costs. I figured that was another sign to stay far away.
She went further into her transition.. having the first surgery and posting on facebook that she'd been able to change her birth certificate and gender marker on her drivers license to female. She seemed genuinely thrilled by this. I felt myself start to soften.
Meanwhile, in my life.. my marriage was ending. Painfully, unexpectedly.. just nothing left. Eighteen years, gone in the blink of an eye. In trying to decide what to do, in where to go with my life.. I decided that maybe.. just maybe.. if I were to talk to Jayla and be able to find closure on the only relationship that I'd ever been willing to die for.. maybe then I'd be able to fix my marriage. It was worth a shot at least.
I emailed Jayla on November 2nd, 2009. I told her that I wanted her to know I was fully supportive of her transition, although I was a little concerned as to whether it was really her truth or if it was PTSD related. I told her that I'd been ignoring her chat requests and such because I was so incredibly hurt by the fact that she didn't remember me.. that I really just needed to find closure with her and our relationship and then I'd leave her alone.. but be there to support her on her path if she wanted or needed as a distant friend.
She responded telling me about her beating.. and asking me to tell her our story since she had obviously been so important to me. I did, the memories came flooding back.. and I begged her to forgive me.. while I respected the truth of her being Jayla at this point in time, I needed to find a way to cope with the past.. and I asked her to understand that I had to do that with James. I wasn't trying to minimize her transition or anything of that nature.. but the healing I had to do wasn't with Jayla.. it wasn't with the present, it was totally 1000% in the past. She seemed to be okay with that and we went forward with trying to heal. It was terribly hard for her.. due to the beating, she really honestly doesn't remember and wasn't able to give me the answers I so desperately needed.. so she simply did a lot of listening.. appologizing for the pain I'd been through and telling me she'd never meant to hurt me. She gave me a gift in that.. knowing that I wasn't simply unimportant and forgettable meant an awful lot.
We started talking about meeting. I told her I really wasn't sure how I'd react. I had absolutely no issues with her being female, with dressing in women's clothes or wearing makeup or anything else. However, I was healing from my relationship with James.. and I hadn't reached a point in which the two were one and the same for me. I told her it didn't matter how feminine she was.. I'd be searching for James. I didn't think I could call her Jayla at that point.. and I appologized profusely. I felt so very guilty because I felt like in needing to find healing with the past and in needing to do that with the one and only person who ever broke my heart, I wasn't being supportive of her transition. I felt like if I could just heal with James, I could let go of him and be a friend to this new person.. but I wasn't ready to let go yet. I'd spent 20 years hurting and searching and missing him every day of my freaking life. Being told he no longer existed was like dying all over again. I couldn't accept it. I could accept Jayla.. no problem.. but I couldn't accept losing James when I'd been so close to finding him after all those years. It was selfish and horrible of me, I thought... but I wasn't strong enough to simply let go.
In our talking, she decided that she needed to return to male. She needed to heal from the past together with me, to make sure that she was doing the right thing, etc. In doing this, Tammy kicked her out of their home. She said she'd been fine with Jayla being in love with me.. but she'd gotten her husband 'back' and seeing him in love with someone else.. wanting to put her arms around him and knowing it wouldn't be welcomed... well, she couldn't cope with that.
They got divorced, Eric and I got divorced.. and James and I resumed our relationship where we'd left off 20 years before. I admit that I was grateful to have James back.. although at times I was horribly resentful of things that reminded me of when he'd been Jayla.. the butterfly tattoo on his back, the lack of testosterone, the fact that we'd never be able to have a biological child. Since she's resumed her transition.. all these things just seem natural and right, but at the time, I have to admit they bothered me. It was a reminder of a life without me.. of a place where I was forgotten. Of course, I was resentful of the fact that he'd had a life without me overall.. and terribly, continually afraid that he'd want one without me again.
We married and my health started to take a nose dive. The first year of marriage, blending a family.. not like that's not enough of a challenge. We had to add in my mental status becoming terribly fragile. I was so very happy, so much in love.. but hateful and suicidal. It made no sense, until we figured out the connection with my PCOS and got me started on metformin again. I grew really fearful and terrified of losing James. I got stuck in the past, and I couldn't get out of it. It didn't matter how much he reassured me.. I couldn't stop the fears. Then, I was threatenned at a store and we got into this loop of PTSD/OCD/Anxiety that was so severe that James almost moved out. I'm on a low dose of prozac for this now and all is good, but it was SO horrible for awhile there. I'm amazed our love kept us together through it all.
In the middle of my complete and total mental breakdown described above, James sent me a series of text messages one morning.. letting me know that he was getting more and more angry and depressed and resentful (I'd known this, but figured it was all because of me and my issues) and that he was overwhelmed with wanting to continue the transition to female. My first reaction was to ask him to give me time to accept it.. I was standing on quicksand after all.. and this caused a huge fight. He said I'd accepted it before, so why the issue now.. and that he shouldn't have to wait because my coping skills were non-existant. Absolute truth.. but totally not what I was getting at.
I'm bi. I don't care if she's female or male or anything else because it simply doesn't matter. I love her. I loved her for 20 years and we'd never done anything beyond kiss. Hell, she'd never even felt me up.. and so it's pretty safe to say that my love for her had absolutely nothing to do with gender. When I listed the things I loved about her.. really the only thing that could and would change if she became female was her arm muscles. Beyond that, there was nothing on my list that was going to be any different.
I wanted to be able to get myself back on level ground so that we could face any challenges that came together. I didn't want her to leave me behind as she found herself. I couldn't bear that pain again. I wanted to be in a good place emotionally so that I could adequately suppport her and not leave her alone to deal with her fears and heartaches. I wanted it to be OUR journey, not just hers.
I had a great deal of fears and some misunderstandings we had to face.. I was afraid her therapist would tell her to leave me.. I was afraid she'd decide she was interested in men.. I was afraid she'd no longer want me - emotionally, physically or spiritually. I was afraid of losing custody of my children, afraid of any sort of teasing they'd go through, afraid my son wouldn't have a role model any longer as he learns to become a man. I was terrified our marriage would no longer be legal, afraid she'd shove me away and shut me out and worried I'd cause her harm in my attempt to be supportive and loving. Above all, I was simply terrified I'd lose her and I couldn't handle that.
I'm resistant to change. Not good with it at all... and things were a little hard for awhile. I was afraid of saying or doing the wrong thing and making her believe I wasn't supportive. I had to admit I hated the name Jayla.. and told her I really was upset about losing her middle name since my oldest daughter had been named for her. We chose a new first name together and decided to have her middle name match Lindsey's.. and I felt infinitely better. Major decision and we'd made it together. Cayleigh started asking my opinion on things like her hair and makeup.. and I started to feel reassured that I was still wanted and needed. I think she started to feel more secure in the fact that my love for her is honestly unconditional. She's so much happier and healthier emotionally and I have zero doubt that this is her truth. I feel grateful that we're able to walk this journey together. It's been interesting to now be identified as lesbian.. but I'm good with it. The kids are doing great with the entire thing and I think our family has benefitted by Cayleigh's transition as she's more honest, open and present with us now.
I have found it interesting to have found things that make me angry. I get really upset when people refer to her as male or use the wrong name... having to say 'husband' and 'James' on medical forms really annoys me. It might be correct legally.. but it's not truth. We'll get that fixed as soon as we're able to. My biggest pet peeve though is people who believe that people who are trans are so by choice.. that they're 'doing' something to their spouse or family or whatever by coming out. Cayleigh has gone through years of not being comfortable in her skin, of misery and hiding.. and now, by being who she is, she's 'doing' something to us? Sure.. she's showing my children that no matter what they'll be accepted and loved.. she's being happy, which translates into a benefit for our family.. she's being real... she's being true. What about what all the cis-gendered folk are 'doing' to those who are trans by forcing them to be something they're not?? It really bothers me.
I love my wife. She is my world, my universe, my everything. I've loved her from the days we were James and Jodi, to when I found her again as Jayla, through my name change to Breanna.. and now as Cayleigh and Breanna. It's been a long road, but it's taken us 22 years to get here. I'll be damned if I'll lose her again. It's not to say that her being trans is a trivial thing - but to me, it's relatively unimportant. While it's a part of her, so are her beautiful brown eyes and her curly hair... being trans doesn't define her, it doesn't define us, it doesn't define our family. It's simply just another piece of the puzzle.
Thursday, November 17, 2011
OMG....Let me tell you about skirts
If your a man.....I'm sorry. I'm sorry because you haven't experienced the love of a skirt. I am assuming here of course.
If your a woman, and you don't know the joy and thrill of the skirt, well I have a theory there as well. I believe that at one point you did experience the excitement that we know as a skirt. Either you were to young to remember it or you have grown out of the magical stage of believing in it. Either way, I beleive as a woman that you did, at one point or another, love the skirt.
If your a grown woman now and don't like skirts.... I'm so very sorry. I hope the pain that caused the hatred isn't to painful for you and doesn't keep you up to many nights. I pray that you will recover some day. If you need to talk....I am here and ready and eager to listen and to help you find your way back from the chasm of no-skirt-land.
Now, why on earth am I talking about skirts in this manner?
For thirty.......four (?) years maybe, I was a man. I dressed as a man, played as a man, worked as a man, loved as a man. This was all a lie in my head, created to make others happy. (if you read my other posts on this blog you would know that. If you haven't, then stop here.......go read them......then come back when your ready to read on)
This year I turned 40 and I am a woman. At this point your doing the math and you come up with a 6 year discrepancy. Yeah, that is true, it took 6 years, count them, 6, to finally come to grips with who I am and what to do about it.
As I am a woman now, I have been wearing womans clothes... DUH!!!!
Today, for the first time EVER, I went to work in a skirt and my awesome slouch boots. No one said a thing and I was received really well. I did get looks but oh well, I chalked it up to them being jealous of what I looked like cause I looked FINE.
So what right???? WRONG!!! This was a huge deal for me. I have worn skirts and dresses at home, but I was always afraid that I would be seen as "the guy in the dress". In the last several months I got to a point where I don't really care what people think.
So today, I wore a skirt all day and IT FELT GREAT!!!! The freedom, the feel, the flowing skirt as I turned around to get something from a shelf. I loved every minute of it.
Even going to the ladies room wasn't an issue. A little odd with the learning curve, but not bad.
So as I said before, if your a man, and you haven't tried a skirt, I feel so bad for you. If your a woman, and have lost the love of wearing skirts, I have an email you can write me and we can talk. If your in love with skirts, you now have a fellow sister that is love with them as well.
I will be wearing skirts more often. The down side is that I will have to shave my legs, but that is ok, I like the smoothness of it.
If your a woman, and you don't know the joy and thrill of the skirt, well I have a theory there as well. I believe that at one point you did experience the excitement that we know as a skirt. Either you were to young to remember it or you have grown out of the magical stage of believing in it. Either way, I beleive as a woman that you did, at one point or another, love the skirt.
If your a grown woman now and don't like skirts.... I'm so very sorry. I hope the pain that caused the hatred isn't to painful for you and doesn't keep you up to many nights. I pray that you will recover some day. If you need to talk....I am here and ready and eager to listen and to help you find your way back from the chasm of no-skirt-land.
Now, why on earth am I talking about skirts in this manner?
For thirty.......four (?) years maybe, I was a man. I dressed as a man, played as a man, worked as a man, loved as a man. This was all a lie in my head, created to make others happy. (if you read my other posts on this blog you would know that. If you haven't, then stop here.......go read them......then come back when your ready to read on)
This year I turned 40 and I am a woman. At this point your doing the math and you come up with a 6 year discrepancy. Yeah, that is true, it took 6 years, count them, 6, to finally come to grips with who I am and what to do about it.
As I am a woman now, I have been wearing womans clothes... DUH!!!!
Today, for the first time EVER, I went to work in a skirt and my awesome slouch boots. No one said a thing and I was received really well. I did get looks but oh well, I chalked it up to them being jealous of what I looked like cause I looked FINE.
So what right???? WRONG!!! This was a huge deal for me. I have worn skirts and dresses at home, but I was always afraid that I would be seen as "the guy in the dress". In the last several months I got to a point where I don't really care what people think.
So today, I wore a skirt all day and IT FELT GREAT!!!! The freedom, the feel, the flowing skirt as I turned around to get something from a shelf. I loved every minute of it.
Even going to the ladies room wasn't an issue. A little odd with the learning curve, but not bad.
So as I said before, if your a man, and you haven't tried a skirt, I feel so bad for you. If your a woman, and have lost the love of wearing skirts, I have an email you can write me and we can talk. If your in love with skirts, you now have a fellow sister that is love with them as well.
I will be wearing skirts more often. The down side is that I will have to shave my legs, but that is ok, I like the smoothness of it.
Taco Time and sensitivity training
What the fuck? I went to taco time yesterday for lunch. Just like I would any other day. This time I ordered the classic chicken burrito. As I ordered, I was referred to as "sir". Now this I understand and can totally forgive. I have a pretty male voice and it's something I really need to work on more frequently.
I went up to the first window and went to go pay. The gentleman that was there looks at me, looks back at, what I assume, was his cash register. He then looked at me again and did that little move where you kind of throw your head back a little, trying to do it where the other person doesn't notice. He paused in his sentence and then continued. Like someone just said something and it's taking your head a few seconds to catch up and in that brief period your mind, body and all good sense shut down and your frozen. Then when it does catch up, you talk fast trying to make up for lost time.
This I was ok with, to a point. I didn't appreciate it and the more I thought about it, the more it really got to me.
In my, not so humble, biased, opinion, companies should have to send their employees to sensitivity training. If that had been done, I don't believe that this would have happened with this gentleman. I can understand seeing someone that presents as a woman, with some manly features. Hell I would just chalk it up to strong features.
So I got done with him, and went to the second window to receive my order. This girl was worse than the guy previous. She was straight rude. The biggest thing among other things I can overlook, was that as I was talking to her, trying to ask for hot sauce, she looked right at me, closed the window and turned her back.
I drove back to the office and stewed on it over lunch. As I was eating my lunch I noticed there was no chicken in my chicken classic burrito. hmmmmm.. seems I was screwed again. I got a veggie burrito not a chicken burrito.
This was the last straw.
I emailed the company and told them what had happened. I don't expect a reply and if I do I swear I will never go back to that store.
I'll go to Wendy's.
Am I being over-sensitive? Probably. Am I looking for problem? Again, probably. Am I wrong in being upset over it? Not at all.
I went up to the first window and went to go pay. The gentleman that was there looks at me, looks back at, what I assume, was his cash register. He then looked at me again and did that little move where you kind of throw your head back a little, trying to do it where the other person doesn't notice. He paused in his sentence and then continued. Like someone just said something and it's taking your head a few seconds to catch up and in that brief period your mind, body and all good sense shut down and your frozen. Then when it does catch up, you talk fast trying to make up for lost time.
This I was ok with, to a point. I didn't appreciate it and the more I thought about it, the more it really got to me.
In my, not so humble, biased, opinion, companies should have to send their employees to sensitivity training. If that had been done, I don't believe that this would have happened with this gentleman. I can understand seeing someone that presents as a woman, with some manly features. Hell I would just chalk it up to strong features.
So I got done with him, and went to the second window to receive my order. This girl was worse than the guy previous. She was straight rude. The biggest thing among other things I can overlook, was that as I was talking to her, trying to ask for hot sauce, she looked right at me, closed the window and turned her back.
I drove back to the office and stewed on it over lunch. As I was eating my lunch I noticed there was no chicken in my chicken classic burrito. hmmmmm.. seems I was screwed again. I got a veggie burrito not a chicken burrito.
This was the last straw.
I emailed the company and told them what had happened. I don't expect a reply and if I do I swear I will never go back to that store.
I'll go to Wendy's.
Am I being over-sensitive? Probably. Am I looking for problem? Again, probably. Am I wrong in being upset over it? Not at all.
Tuesday, November 15, 2011
This is a test of the EMS
This is a test of the emergency broadcast system.....
this is only a test....
if this had been an actual emergency, you would have heard nothing, saw nothing and nothing would have been reported.
In fact this test never would have happened.
this concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system.
I was bored and came up with this. Well not really came up with it as I have heard it a bazillion times in my 40 years of living. I thought it was funny though.
plues I was testing something out for my wonderful wife. Her screen went blank, so I was seeing if she was in the middle of typing something, and she couldn't publish it or save it, will it auto save. Answer, Yes. so she should be good with restarting her computer with no issues.
I hope.
Thank you.
this is only a test....
if this had been an actual emergency, you would have heard nothing, saw nothing and nothing would have been reported.
In fact this test never would have happened.
this concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system.
I was bored and came up with this. Well not really came up with it as I have heard it a bazillion times in my 40 years of living. I thought it was funny though.
plues I was testing something out for my wonderful wife. Her screen went blank, so I was seeing if she was in the middle of typing something, and she couldn't publish it or save it, will it auto save. Answer, Yes. so she should be good with restarting her computer with no issues.
I hope.
Thank you.
comments
Ok. so I am a dufus. i didn't know I have to enable comments on here. it is done now though so if you would like to go back and leave a comment to anything, please feel free to do so.
Thanks
Your friendly plutonic sister,
Cayleigh
Thanks
Your friendly plutonic sister,
Cayleigh
Monday, November 14, 2011
19 and I don't remember
When I was younger, around 19 or so, I dated this girl. We will call her CW. At some point in the relationship I told her that I was going to go look for Breanna and try to make things work with her. This is when things got really bad.
I am not sure and it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense but I stayed with her after that for a period of time that I can't recall. It doesn't make sense because I told her that I was leaving. Anyway, at one point she accused me of raping her. Called the cops and the whole works. This was a bogus claim and later in life she even said so. She said that she was in love with someone else and rather then just simply break things off with me, and move on with him, she called rape.
I got out of jail and went back home. CW called me up one day and asked me to come over so that she could apologize. Again, naive, I agreed and went over. She turned out to be home alone. This should have been a red flag to me. It wasn't. She took me into her bedroom and like a little lost stupid puppy I went. We were talking and all of a sudden one guy jumps out of the closet and another out of the room across the hall.
I started freaking. I had to have. I don't remember their faces but I can remember there silhouette's. They were big guys. Lineman in football size. I am sure that I freaked out.
I was held down and from what I remember each took turns beating me. CW doing the most damage. At some point I started convulsing and they stopped. Then out of the goodness of their own hearts they called 911. I remember getting out of the house and running, if you can call it that, from there house, down the short but curvy driveway, to the freeway, and down the road into town. I know I tripped and fell many time. At one point I saw the ambulance pass me with lights on going to where I just left. Moments, what seemed like days, I passed out. But not before seeing the ambulance again.
They either saw me and turned around or got to the house and turned around when CW and the guys told them I had left. I don't know and frankly don't care.
I spent some time healing and getting better. My physical injuries did finally heal and I am no worse off for them. But something else was injured in all of this. I suffer memory loss and PTSD from it. I can't have my back to the wall of any door or the majority of the people in the room like at a restaurant unless it's a booth with a high back. Other things bother me as well.
My biggest issue is the memory loss. You may have noticed that there is a lot of this story that simpy isn't included. No, I'm not trying a new writing style of being, not so forthcoming, about these events. I simply don't remember them and I have to piece what I remember, together, with what I am told and try to make a solid picture out of it.
Unfortunetely, I have a puzzle with a picture of the white house and I am afraid that I will never have all the piece to see the west wing.
This is what she took from me. CW can never give me back my memories of anything that she took. Of the memory of being beaten, I can live without that. But she took something so much more valuable to me than that, she took my previous memories of Breanna from me and for that she deserves to rot in hell for her entire existence. She took my early childhood from me. It was already destroyed by my father and mother. It was burned, when our trailer with all our pictures caught on fire, it was taken when my father killed my step-mother, raped my step-sister, and molested my brother, sister and me. It was imprisoned right beside my father when he was incarcerated for murder and got off with a lesser charge. Involuntary manslaughter I believe.
It walked out, when my mother gave us all up for adoption and to this day says that she simply couldn't do it.
I have already been beaten, bruised, chewed up, and spit out enough times in my life by this point. CW took what remaining strength I had left, what will power I had to go on, what character I sill possessed and beat it out of me, then stole all the memories of everything else.
I am tired of being scared to be in a crowded room or to go up to someone and say hi cause I am afraid of the charges i will face. Unfounded as that may be, it's a fear.
I am not sure and it doesn't really make a whole lot of sense but I stayed with her after that for a period of time that I can't recall. It doesn't make sense because I told her that I was leaving. Anyway, at one point she accused me of raping her. Called the cops and the whole works. This was a bogus claim and later in life she even said so. She said that she was in love with someone else and rather then just simply break things off with me, and move on with him, she called rape.
I got out of jail and went back home. CW called me up one day and asked me to come over so that she could apologize. Again, naive, I agreed and went over. She turned out to be home alone. This should have been a red flag to me. It wasn't. She took me into her bedroom and like a little lost stupid puppy I went. We were talking and all of a sudden one guy jumps out of the closet and another out of the room across the hall.
I started freaking. I had to have. I don't remember their faces but I can remember there silhouette's. They were big guys. Lineman in football size. I am sure that I freaked out.
I was held down and from what I remember each took turns beating me. CW doing the most damage. At some point I started convulsing and they stopped. Then out of the goodness of their own hearts they called 911. I remember getting out of the house and running, if you can call it that, from there house, down the short but curvy driveway, to the freeway, and down the road into town. I know I tripped and fell many time. At one point I saw the ambulance pass me with lights on going to where I just left. Moments, what seemed like days, I passed out. But not before seeing the ambulance again.
They either saw me and turned around or got to the house and turned around when CW and the guys told them I had left. I don't know and frankly don't care.
I spent some time healing and getting better. My physical injuries did finally heal and I am no worse off for them. But something else was injured in all of this. I suffer memory loss and PTSD from it. I can't have my back to the wall of any door or the majority of the people in the room like at a restaurant unless it's a booth with a high back. Other things bother me as well.
My biggest issue is the memory loss. You may have noticed that there is a lot of this story that simpy isn't included. No, I'm not trying a new writing style of being, not so forthcoming, about these events. I simply don't remember them and I have to piece what I remember, together, with what I am told and try to make a solid picture out of it.
Unfortunetely, I have a puzzle with a picture of the white house and I am afraid that I will never have all the piece to see the west wing.
This is what she took from me. CW can never give me back my memories of anything that she took. Of the memory of being beaten, I can live without that. But she took something so much more valuable to me than that, she took my previous memories of Breanna from me and for that she deserves to rot in hell for her entire existence. She took my early childhood from me. It was already destroyed by my father and mother. It was burned, when our trailer with all our pictures caught on fire, it was taken when my father killed my step-mother, raped my step-sister, and molested my brother, sister and me. It was imprisoned right beside my father when he was incarcerated for murder and got off with a lesser charge. Involuntary manslaughter I believe.
It walked out, when my mother gave us all up for adoption and to this day says that she simply couldn't do it.
I have already been beaten, bruised, chewed up, and spit out enough times in my life by this point. CW took what remaining strength I had left, what will power I had to go on, what character I sill possessed and beat it out of me, then stole all the memories of everything else.
I am tired of being scared to be in a crowded room or to go up to someone and say hi cause I am afraid of the charges i will face. Unfounded as that may be, it's a fear.
Sunday, November 13, 2011
Harrassment
I came out at work some months ago. Since that time I have been keeping them up to date on different things.
In the first open letter, I informed everyone that I would like to be identified as female.
Now I know this is really hard for most people that knew me before my transition. However, there is a new hire now. When he was hired he was introduced to me, rather I was introduced to him as Cayleigh. Female. I wear feminine clothing, I have breasts that are starting to show, I wear make-up and have a feminine name that I go by.
During the training process, I was to train this gentleman in what we do. He is to take over my area, do I had to introduce him to my clients and inform evryone that he would be taking over.
There would be times where he would refer to me as "he", "man", etc... I sent out an email explaining to him that I prefer to be referred to as female.
He still refers to me as male and says, "sorry, I just don't see it."
This is frustrating as hell.
How long do you give someone before you finally just have it out with them? I am pretty close. At what point is it considered harrassment? Or is it simpy idiocy?
sigh........
In the first open letter, I informed everyone that I would like to be identified as female.
Now I know this is really hard for most people that knew me before my transition. However, there is a new hire now. When he was hired he was introduced to me, rather I was introduced to him as Cayleigh. Female. I wear feminine clothing, I have breasts that are starting to show, I wear make-up and have a feminine name that I go by.
During the training process, I was to train this gentleman in what we do. He is to take over my area, do I had to introduce him to my clients and inform evryone that he would be taking over.
There would be times where he would refer to me as "he", "man", etc... I sent out an email explaining to him that I prefer to be referred to as female.
He still refers to me as male and says, "sorry, I just don't see it."
This is frustrating as hell.
How long do you give someone before you finally just have it out with them? I am pretty close. At what point is it considered harrassment? Or is it simpy idiocy?
sigh........
Saturday, November 12, 2011
The Childrens Views on My Transition as told by them.
by Cayleigh Wills on Saturday, July 30, 2011 at 1:15pm
P-R-I-D-E by Lindsey Pilcher 10 year old girl
Diversity means everyone has a right to believe in himself or herself
Artist’s statement: Dare to dream of a world where everyone is accepted for who they are.
P-R-I-D-E
My family went to the Pride parade
And Pride is a big happy family
where everyone can be themselves
And there are no secrets.
And Pride is a rainbow-
The biggest rainbow stretching out across the sky
The greatest wonder of the world-
A mighty bridge to acceptance and eternal gratitude for love
And the people-
The beautiful people
Wild and strong
Walked down the street announcing their freedom
Great and terribly majestic
Amazing and noble and proud
Waiting to be unleashed into the world to speak their minds
Like a caged bird waiting to be set free.
And what makes these people who they are?
They have different beliefs about love
They are Lesbian or Gay or Bi-Sexual or Transgender or Queer
They are who they are- we are who we are
And they wish one wish together
So simply
To be accepted for whom they are
Into this world a one
Together they hold hands
And strive to create to world they see when they close their eyes at night
To struggle against the barrier- the invisible hands separating them from us
To become one
The People.
My family went to the Pride parade
And Pride is a big happy family
Where everyone can be themselves
and there are no secrets……….
Lindsey Pilcher Age 10
Posted with permission
Permission is given to pass along so long as credit is given appropriately.
Artist’s statement: Dare to dream of a world where everyone is accepted for who they are.
P-R-I-D-E
My family went to the Pride parade
And Pride is a big happy family
where everyone can be themselves
And there are no secrets.
And Pride is a rainbow-
The biggest rainbow stretching out across the sky
The greatest wonder of the world-
A mighty bridge to acceptance and eternal gratitude for love
And the people-
The beautiful people
Wild and strong
Walked down the street announcing their freedom
Great and terribly majestic
Amazing and noble and proud
Waiting to be unleashed into the world to speak their minds
Like a caged bird waiting to be set free.
And what makes these people who they are?
They have different beliefs about love
They are Lesbian or Gay or Bi-Sexual or Transgender or Queer
They are who they are- we are who we are
And they wish one wish together
So simply
To be accepted for whom they are
Into this world a one
Together they hold hands
And strive to create to world they see when they close their eyes at night
To struggle against the barrier- the invisible hands separating them from us
To become one
The People.
My family went to the Pride parade
And Pride is a big happy family
Where everyone can be themselves
and there are no secrets……….
Lindsey Pilcher Age 10
Posted with permission
Permission is given to pass along so long as credit is given appropriately.
Are the insurance companies being fraudulent by there own rules?
by Cayleigh Wills on Tuesday, August 16, 2011 at 4:18pm
Are they insurance companies being fraudulent? Are they breaking their own rules?
I read that they will cover "medically necessary" surgeries. So the question is what is "medically necessary"? "Care is considered medically necessary if:
1) It is accepted by the health care profession in the U.S. as approproate and effective for the condition being treated.
2) It is based upon recogonized standards of the health care speciatlity involved.
3) It represents the most appropriate level of care: the frequesncy of serices, the duration of services, and the site of services, depending on the seriousness of the condition being treated ( such as hospital or in the physicians office), and
4) it is not experimental or investigational
*quoted from http://www.tgender.net*
So what is the problem? Why won't the insurance companies cover such important surgeries such as mastectomies, phaloplasty, vaginoplasty, etc?
They are accepted by the health care professionals in the U.S.
They are based on recognized standards of the health care speciality involved.
They represent the most appropriate level of care in most cases. And in those cased that it doesn't, it's because those individuals elected not to have them,
These surgeries are most definately not experiemental or investigational.
In my opinion, the insurance companies are fraudulent.
Life Outside Myself
I don't know when it began exactly. Or why for that matter. I know that at some point I started livig outside myself. I could literaly see myself doing things that I normally wouldn't have done. I dont know why I was doing it though.
So I went through life for many years doing things I didn't want to do and being someone I didn't want to be.
Finally when I reached age 35 I saw myself down there and finally figured out what hell was going on with me and why I wasn't living my own life.
Back when I was 7 I was forced out of my own body by things my father did. Not only to me, but my sister and brother and my step-mother. Probably other people as well. He was a sick fuck.
So it took almost 30 years for me to find a way into my own body again and to start living for me and as me.
My femininity was taken from me at that time and for many years later is was constantly held for ransom from me until I, the one to whom it belonged to, accepted and learned what it was that I was supposed to do.
I learned that I was in fact female. Imprisoned in a males body. Tortured day in and day out and eventually learning to live as instructed rather than as I was.
Many time through the years, specifically a picture that was taken at my 16th birthday, a day I will never get again. I will never get that sweet 16 party I always craved. I was standing there, and in the pic, i was in my own body again. Even if just for a minute or two. I was there. I will remember that pic for always. It is emblazened in my mind. The one moment in my early life that I cherish.
I went away from myself again as the flash erupted in the brilliant light. Not to return, fully, until I reached age 35. At that point I realized that I wasnt held in captivity any longer and that it was ok to be who I am supposed to be.
Now I am released from my cell. No longer tortured. Free to be me and free to be free.
So I went through life for many years doing things I didn't want to do and being someone I didn't want to be.
Finally when I reached age 35 I saw myself down there and finally figured out what hell was going on with me and why I wasn't living my own life.
Back when I was 7 I was forced out of my own body by things my father did. Not only to me, but my sister and brother and my step-mother. Probably other people as well. He was a sick fuck.
So it took almost 30 years for me to find a way into my own body again and to start living for me and as me.
My femininity was taken from me at that time and for many years later is was constantly held for ransom from me until I, the one to whom it belonged to, accepted and learned what it was that I was supposed to do.
I learned that I was in fact female. Imprisoned in a males body. Tortured day in and day out and eventually learning to live as instructed rather than as I was.
Many time through the years, specifically a picture that was taken at my 16th birthday, a day I will never get again. I will never get that sweet 16 party I always craved. I was standing there, and in the pic, i was in my own body again. Even if just for a minute or two. I was there. I will remember that pic for always. It is emblazened in my mind. The one moment in my early life that I cherish.
I went away from myself again as the flash erupted in the brilliant light. Not to return, fully, until I reached age 35. At that point I realized that I wasnt held in captivity any longer and that it was ok to be who I am supposed to be.
Now I am released from my cell. No longer tortured. Free to be me and free to be free.
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