Told Dad

I had lunch with my father on Friday and told him about how depressed I had been. My father called on Saturday and Sunday showing concern. I was working Sunday, filming at the race track. I told him that I would meet him at 10:00PM at his house.

I was not planning on telling him until much later in the transition process but I felt that I needed to tell him now and that the time was right, sometimes you have to follow your instincts. I was incredibly nervous and so scared it was almost physically impossible to get the words out.

My father is also an Anglican Minister (Episcopalian in the USA), his second career. It helped somewhat to think of him in his role as a minister hearing a confession rather than my father. I told him I am Transgendered, however he was not sure of the term, I explained what it meant and he was surprised. As a minister he did not have any real experience with Trans people but the Anglican church is open to gay community. It does turn out that he knew one M2F, an older woman who had passed away two years ago. She had fought in Burma in WWII and transitioned in the early seventies. He had thought quite highly of her.

I told him everything about the hormones, plans for surgery, what my real name is, I even showed him a couple of photos. He took everything quite calmly and asked intelligent and respectful questions. He told me that I had nothing to be ashamed or guilty about and that I am as God made me. He is still my dad so I held it together and did not cry but came very close. He even suggested that once my transition is "complete" that they have a celebration at the church. He was sorry what what I had gone through as a child and that I could not share my feelings earlier on.

I am so relived I was dreading having to tell him, we have not always had a close relationship and I went expecting the worst. I am really surprised but incredibly happy at his reaction to the news. I had a tough weekend dealing with some depression but feel a new purpose this morning.

Hugs,

April

Crappy Car Stuff:

In case you are interested in my automotive adventures. Just had time this morning to drop into an auto glass place, basically they washed their hands of the Toronado, too old too complex. I am trying to locate a terrible sun roof leak, I mean massive. I had the entire interior gutted and this is my daily driver! Feel silly driving around in an empty car with the headliner temporarily taped into place.

Some suggestions on where to look next, means more disassembly and that means car may have to be off the road for a time. As usual up to me to fix.

Getting desperate for a daily driver, Don’t want to push my Eldorado project as it is still a bit of an unknown, think best bet will be to fix trans issue on 76 Lincoln Mark IV as the car is in very good overall mechanical condition. Too bad the paint job is so bad.

Sent the carb for the 1972 Mark in for professional repair, bad news was that it kept leaking but I think I narrowed down the problem to the carb. The 72 is scheduled for storage as it is too delicate for winter duty.

Argh driving me to distraction…..with everything else going on I really don't need all these car problems. I need to save my time and energy for family and transition. Really who needs a double digit collection of 19 ft long cars?

Precious Hours

Ah the weekend, she approaches with endless promise. Family, a fleet of less than perfect “classic” cars and a house to clean does tend to eat up any down time.

True I have been able to dress in a more feminine fashion at home but it is hardly 100% April or for much time. The children have dance class, swimming and there are always chores to do outside. I am not quite ready for the neighbors to meet April.

My slice of suburbia is a real Peyton Place where no secret can remain hidden for long. As soon as one person knows he is planning to become a she the entire street will know about me….as they say, there goes the neighborhood.

Still I am lucky enough to get out once a week for coffee or drinks (mostly coffee, I am not that kind of girl) with a few close friends.

So much planning, preparation and stealth goes into these few precious hours I can be myself. Before I know it the evening is over and like Cinderella I must return to the drab male world for another week. I look ahead to living full time as a woman otherwise I would go mad.

But for a few hours I can be me and the joy is sometimes overwhelming and sometimes a quiet contentment. It is during these precious hours that the guilt and shame are vanquished and depression blotted out by a radiant soul.

This post is dedicated to all my sisters and brothers waiting for the weekend.

Hugs,

April

Hiding the Better Angels of Our Nature

Being Trans means that you are basically living in stealth all the time. Trying to be a man when inside you really are female. Or visa versa of course. Does being female but having to live as man mean I am in stealth mode?

Trans means never doing anything to bring attention to our true selves. To avoid at all costs any hint that we have female characteristics or tendencies.

The mundane becomes torture, I used to avoid shopping malls and still do when in drab. The predominantly female oriented shops caused terrible dysphoria and before I came out to my SO I was afraid my longing sideways glances at the store windows and a life denied would instantly give me away.

I work in a very male environment and have to be a typical bloke (as our English cousins say), laughing at the sexist jokes and mean spirited humor. Inside I recoil in disgust longing instead to be one of the girls.

Being Trans means always feeling apart from our co-workers and society at large, hiding our true selves, playing our cards close to our chest. Never showing the best of ourselves to our loved ones and friends. Hiding the better angels of our nature.

Cracks are appearing in my male persona, my hair is longer, and I wear it differently. Can my co-workers sense anything; do they notice the lack of facial and arm hair? The weight loss, the depression? Perhaps I am paranoid but I think they suspect something they just don’t know what. I know my co-workers already consider me “different”. I guess my eventual transition (not in this job LOL) will not be a total surprise. They will be able to say, “I knew there something wrong with him (her)”.

Extra Bonus Bitch Session:
Sometimes day to day life makes all the Trans issues doubly hard to deal with, work, car problems, home repairs sigh.

Blog absence yesterday was due to some on location filming for work. Managed to find an hour last night while family was out to work on my Lincoln Continental. A little progress on the Mark IV, no more flooding carb but odd exhaust note and lumpy idle remain.

One step forward two back, the family "truckster", Chrysler Town & Country is having mysterious drive train maladies…argh. SO is taking the big white mini-van (is that an oxymoron) to the garage today for a diagnosis.

Have to do more filming on Sunday so I miss the big British car show they have here every year. Although most of my cars come from Detroit I have a soft spot for cars from the old country.

Ok bitch session over. Here is something completely different as a palate cleaner and reward for listening to me whine:

Evelyne Courtois` singing a French version of Sha La La La Lee.




Hugs,

April

The Power of Song

I didn’t come to a love of music until my late teens after most of my contemporaries had already firmly established their musical tastes and were spending lots on albums and cassettes (wow dating myself).



I was searching for a sound but commercial radio and pre-internet media was still a mainstream wasteland. It was not a until I heard an obscure track from Jerry Lee Lewis, Ubangi Stomp, better known by Warren Smith both on the SUN label. Talk about a weird song to change ones life but there you go.



The DJ came on and said that was rockabilly, I now had a name for what I loved. Now you can hear the most obscure and rarest rockabilly 45’s with the click of a mouse. Back then I searched through dusty used record stores for 45s and bought high priced European imports.



Rockabilly has a large contemporary following and has even evolved into a “lifestyle”. Back in the day (geez I sound like grandpa Simpson) it was totally below the radar and being a fan was about as popular as being trans. Please note that the above paragraph does not apply to the UK where they have had a wide spread Teddy Boy/ Rockabilly sub culture since the fifties.



No musical talent myself, my brother is a different story (a great guitarist) but I did have my own radio show at university to propagandize for my eclectic taste in music.



I use rockabilly pretty loosely, I love early country, fifties gospel, sixties garage punk, French girl groups, surf and anything that has that wild rockabilly and innocence of early rock and roll.



I mentioned in n earlier post that I have been wrestling with depression, sometimes we forget how powerful music can be to move the soul. Last weekend I was able to fight of the blues with some new rockin’ tunes. My current favorite band is the Raveonettes, here are two tracks that have raised my spirits and have been keeping me dancing around the living room for the past couple of days.



By the way, Sharin Foo the female part of this Danish duo is very pretty and shows off some great retro dresses. I also love her straight blond hair.



So do yourself a favor, break out your favorite track and dance and sing out loud you will feel better.



Hugs,



April

Random Thoughts from Suburbia

Saturday September 11th, flew Old Glory from my house. It looked so beautiful hanging there the red white and blue against the newly laid sod.

I have tried to make this a tradition; I still feel the terrible pain of that day. No one I knew died that day, one employee of the national bank I used to work for was killed. All Toronto came to a halt and the streets were filled with people trying to get home as the subways were closed.

I stayed late at my desk and left an empty business district at the end of the day to journey home to a waiting family. So many would wait in vain…

Despite being English by birth and having lived in Canada most of my life in my heart I am an American. My family’s first steps in the New World were through New York, like generations of immigrants before (but not Ellis Island which closed in 1954).

I majored in American history at university, the cars, the music I love they are all a product of the amazing democratic experiment across the 49 parallel. The freedom and liberty we enjoy would be impossible with her existence.

A bit of a manic weekend. Saturday saw a return of depression, trouble with my Lincoln Mark IV carburetor, rebuilt it but no joy. Sent me into a bit of a tail spin, will try again this evening.
Went out with my girl friend Marissa last night for coffee, drove a new Mitsubishi Evo press car. Still on such a high, it sooooo good to be out, happy with the photos too! We talked about my progress and for a minute I felt I was in the fast lane. Getting out so builds one's confidence, I wish I could do it more.

Feeling positive hope I can make it last!

My birthday today. My oldest gave me a home made card that said that my present was that she was renaming the character in her "novel" she is writing April, after me! Yes, I was very moved! Best present ever!

Hugs,

April

The Answer in Our Hearts

I was moved by Karen’s recent post on GID diagnosis and have thought a lot about my own experience. (http://shoutingdownthewell.blogspot.com/2010/09/crushed.html)

In our happy Dominion, well the province of Ontario at least the gateway to SRS is through the Center for Addiction & Mental Health. I had initially made an appointment to determine if I really was transgendered. My friend Marissa suggested that I contact CAMH, she could tell.

The waiting list was long at least six months. I was devastated when my initial appointment was cancelled and I had to wait almost another four months to see a doctor for my initial interview and diagnosis.

In retrospect the delay allowed me to make up my own mind and to confidently tell the doctors that I wanted to be a woman and that I would be able to successfully transition. A lot has been written about CAMH locally but my experience was positive.

I knew the diagnosis I wanted and was aware that I would be tempted to subconsciously spin the answers to any questions to reinforce the desired diagnosis. Yes I did get the GID diagnosis I wanted, however then they were at pains to tell me that the next steps were entirely up to me. Transition, don’t transition we don’t care. If you want to proceed change your name and go full time, come and see us again in six months…so long and thanks for all the fish.

It has been challenge, finding a new doctor, starting hormones, seeking out therapist, coming out to friends and loved ones. A difficult road but I keep moving forward because I want to.

When I first contacted CAMH I was still wracked by guilt and shame and I felt that if I had a medical diagnosis I could say, look I am not just some crazy person. The true answer is in our hearts. I spent many nights walking and thinking until I was exhausted in body and spirit. A terrible struggle that saw me go back and forth between continuing to fight the “good” fight and to “give in” to transition.

I think I always knew what the final decision would be and that in the end it is the right
one.

Thinking of you Karen.


Hugs,

April

I know the ad is hard to read but above the smoking woman it says, "Your T-Zone Will Tell You" indeed!

Daddy You Look Pretty

In my prior post I clearly demonstrated how t-girls can be whiney bitches, actually I am a bit old to be called a girl but whiney bitch still applies.

A bit of a roller coaster weekend emotionally. Saturday was really tough but I had a much better Sunday and Monday.

Significant Developments?

I had already told the children about me but they had not seen me as April. They know I am Trans and that I will eventually transition to become a woman. The oldest that is eleven going on thirty understands more and therefore has the most trouble dealing with the changes. That is not to say she hasn't been supremely understanding and caring, she just does not want to loose her dad.

On Sunday I asked the oldest if she would like to see one of my favorite photos of April. She did and was quite surprised at how I looked. The other two girls never wanting to be left out of what their older sister is doing muscled in for a quick peak.

“Daddy you look pretty” was the oldest's first response. Wow, are you sure your mother didn’t pay you to say that! I was very moved. The seven year old asked who the photos were of and did a classic sit com double take when I said me.

I got dressed up in anticipation of going out Sunday evening and the younger two saw me as 90% April, full makeup, jewelry, perfume etc, just in jeans and runners, no wig but my new feminine hair cut. I don’t think the oldest was quite ready.

Can you believe I spent all day Monday as well, mostly as April, jeans, pink t-shirt (bra), female glasses and my long painted nails. Made breakfast and lunch for the children and cleaned the house. Only a short return to drab to change the fuel pump on the Mark IV, no nails were broken just in case you were wondering.

Last night my SO had a bridal shower to go to (borrowed a pair of my pantyhose ;) Later she told me all about it and we discussed the merits of various shoes in our collection....I do miss the husband and wife connection but I love being one of the girls. I guess we are more girlfriends?

Since she was at the shower I made dinner, washed up and got the children to bed...as April, well my favorite jeans, lavender blouse, a bra for the "little" girls and an apron. Shades of Betty Draper again.

I am finding it hard to articulate exactly what I am feeling; I am comfortable being out/being April to my children ...This is a true milestone. April is starting to come into her own, taking the wheel so to speak, no longer the quiet but ever present back seat driver (heck for a while she was firmly locked in the trunk). Excited, happy yes but a little scared. The old male facade, which also had a life of his own, is fading. The male facade meant safety, acceptance and anonymity all of which will be lost. April will have to be strong and confident woman.

Hugs,

April