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

Black Dogs on my Trail

First of all sorry for the radio silence the last few days, a busy weekend and a holiday Monday followed by an off site meeting all day Tuesday meant no time to properly compose my thoughts.

Saturday was a complete write off; the black dogs of depression had run me down and left me pretty well mauled. I am not a very outgoing personality and had never experienced serious depression until I stated to deal with being transgendered. It has been the depression (that and all the damn cars) that drive a wedge between my SO and I, more so than even being Trans.

I am seeing a therapist and it helps immeasurably but even so the black dog can sneak up on you at any time. "Black Dog" was what Winston Churchill called his depression, a fitting image I think.

Saturday was supposed to be a milestone, my first female haircut at a beauty salon. Up early to make my 8:30 AM appointment, I was giddy with anticipation. I arrived early at the mall and impatiently waited for the salon to open. Unfortunately the recommended hairdresser’s first language was not English forcing me to explain about five times that I was Trans and wanted a female haircut. Any louder and I may as well have announced my Gender Identity Disorder over the mall's public address system! She kept giving me male hair style books to look through until I pulled out a picture of April and showed her who I really am. I think she finally understood and she did the best she could with my long for me but relatively short male hair.

To be fair she did a good job with what she had to work with and I ended up with a gender neutral haircut that will allow me to continue to grow out my natural hair. On the return home my wife was not too impressed with the styling and subconsciously I was also unhappy with the process. For a MTF the idea of a trip to the salon is a fantasized experience and mine did not live up to my high expectations. Coupled with my SO's apparent disapproval I quickly fell into depression. It is a vicious cycle, feeling bad about something as simple as a hair cut or car problems colors your thought process and soon you are questioning your ability to pass, transition or even your self worth. The more depressed I got the more my SO lost patience with me making me even sadder at angering my greatest supporter.

Depressions living dead embrace had me all the rest of the day. All I wanted to do was to lie down and feel sorry for myself. All hope and joy had gone replaced with a vast emptiness that makes ending your life seem like the right thing to do. I took the children out bike riding, went to the store but I was only going through the motions an emotional zombie.

Roller coaster emotions seem to be the lot of the Trans person. We experience such great joy and happiness when we can be ourselves and such terrible lows when we feel that opportunity is being taken away from us.

Sunday and Monday were much better and I have some good news to report but I will tell you about that tomorrow.

Tuesday was back to school for the children and back to work for me. My job can be rather thankless at times and my boss quite a handful, after a tough day I felt that the black dogs were nipping at my heels again. In the morning at the school I look around at all the moms and later in the grocery store at all the GG's and I felt that I could never be one of them, to look that good, that natural, who was I kidding. However this time I was able to shake off my phantom pursuers, perhaps I just didn't have the energy to beat up on myself anymore this week?

I forced myself to go for my nightly walk/exercise as it was a beautiful warm late summer evening. Leaving the iPod behind I strolled with my own thoughts and resolved not to give up but to press on with transition, really what choice do I have? As Winston said, “If you are going through hell, keep going”....he knew what he was talking about.

See you tomorrow,

April

An Experiment

For the MTF Trans person hair is so incredibly important. It instantly identifies you as male or female. The right wig can instantly transform.

I still have my hair so I guess I am lucky but I have a typical male hair line, tall forehead and widow’s peak. Also my hair is amazingly fine and straight. I think I will be able to grow my own hair once I transition but will still need the scalp advanced surgically to look feminine.

A busy work schedule and a favorite barber who is in another town has meant that my current hair is well beyond its male best before date. In fact it is the longest it has ever been. I guess I could have got my hair cut but subconsciously I didn’t really want to.

I usually wore it in an Elvis style duck tail having too use much gel and hair spray to keep my pin straight hair defying gravity. I have worn variations of this style for twenty years or so (ZOMG!). Occasionally getting a flat top in the summer months. Time for a change don’t you think.

The plan or experiment is to see if I can have my hair styled for a feminine look, preferably one that downplays my forehead and can be combed in a male manner for work. That is not too much to ask is it!

I have an appointment with a stylist at a beauty salon early tomorrow morning. She was recommended by a friend. I will of course have to explain the “experiment” to her and that means telling her about me. “You don’t know me but I am Trans,” should be an interesting morning.

And if it all goes south it is all back to short back and sides…

Hugs,

April

A Trans Movie?

The Corpse Bride

The 2005 film by Tim Burton really caught my attention when it was first released. I bought the DVD, the CD soundtrack and even a figurine or is it action figure of the bride (Emily).

For a few months in my pre-out days I watched the film and listened to the music over and over again. Why so obsessed? Just a romantic story with a nice gothic feel or was it something deeper.

I suspect there is something Trans about this movie but I cannot put my finger on it. I have surfed around the net to see if anyone else shared my suspicions but I have never found a review or random comment that mentions transgender themes.

The story is based on an old Jewish tale of a murdered bride awakened by inadvertent vows, recast in Victorian England, all be it an Edward Gorey / Charles Addams sort of olde England.

Film critic Roger Ebert wrote that the film is not a “macabre horror story as the title suggests” calling it a “sweet and visually lovely tale of love lost”. I could not agree more. If you have not seen The Corpse Bride, go buy or rent it right away.

Now, it should be remembered that Tim Burton is the same director who brought us the bio pic Ed Wood, the infamous grade Z mogul who made the movie Glen or Glenda or I Changed My Sex. Poor Ed had a more than passing familiarity with his subject matter in this case.

Just what strikes me as Trans, is it that the groom Victor falls in love with Emily (the eponymous bride) even though she is not a “real” woman?

Emily’s joy at life and love regained, especially evident in the beautiful scene where she dances in the moonlight reminds me of the joy I and I am sure many of you feel when we can be our true selves.

I hope that readers will be kind enough to share their own perspectives on the film. Is there a Trans theme or am I delusional?

Hugs,

April

Words Have Meaning and Names Have Power

April Ashley

I did not struggle or fret over my name, it just came to me from out of the ether of my own experience. I would say a gift from the universe if I wanted to risk sounding like some new age hippie.

I was attempting to sign up for the crossdressers.com forum, my first tentative step in reaching out to the wider trans world beyond my closet.

I needed a female name, something close to my given male name but not a feminine version of it. Suddenly….APRIL…that was it. I had been friends with an April at my old job, actually that was her last name. Great, feminine but not too cutesy, I now had my forum name.

But sometimes things like a name take on a life of their own. April was supposed to be just a place holder, an internet nom de plume. When I came out to my spouse, she asked did “she” have a name, why yes April. When I first ventured out into the real world, it was April who took that first high heeled step. When I went to get my diagnosis of GID, it was April who walked confidently into the doctors office. It is the name my new friends call me and the name I hope that old ones and family will one day embrace too.

I am becoming April and I have no regrets.

It was only later that I realized that April was the name of the first British person to have SRS. (Not sure if Roberta Cowell should also get this honor) . I am sure I must have heard her name from my days at school in the UK or stumbled upon a reference to her in my earlier pre-web surreptitious research.

Not a middle aged transitioner like myself April Ashley became a woman at age 25. She has had and continues to have an amazing life that I cannot do justice to in a mere paragraph.

Instead follow the link below to read her biography, the entire work is on line and free to read. Warning, make sure you have a couple of hours spare! Her story would make a great movie.

http://www.antijen.org/Aprilv1/

See a more recent BBC interview here:

http://news.bbc.co.uk/local/london/hi/people_and_places/newsid_8383000/8383720.stm

“you can be who you want to be…but do it with joy…and be terribly brave.”

So retroactively I am claiming that April Ashley is my namesake, I hope she does not mind.

Hugs,

April (the other one)

The Sound of Fury

Don’t worry its just the title of Billy Fury’s first album in 1960. I am a big rockabilly fan and the more obscure the record the better. Not that Mr. Fury is obscure; he is a legend in the UK but much less well known here in North America.

I have a real soft spot for early British rock and roll and he was the best. Two tunes for your consideration, Don’t Knock Upon My Door (a rocker) and A Thousand Stars, a sappy romantic ballad, yes I can freely admit to liking those now.

In an earlier incarnation I dyed my hair blond to look more like Billy when he starred as Stormy Tempest in the movie That’ll Be the Day. You know come to think of it I do look good as a blond.

Three mini posts:

Sounds like a breakfast cereal, "mini posts the cure for the common breakfast". Blame the corny cereal jokes on the episode of Mad Men I watched last night. Did you see it? Peggy stripped and I still want to be Joan (who wouldn’t?)!

Not Quite April

Presenting as April at home is one of the steps forward that my spouse and I talked about when we were discussing telling the children. For three evenings last week after the children went to bed I have changed into casual April wear, girl jeans, blouse and bra for the slight breast development that the past five months or so on hormones have happily provided.

At first I was quite uncomfortable in this not quite April stage, no makeup, no overtly feminine clothes or high heels. Basically what any woman would wear after work, dishes and bedtime stories. I do feel more comfortable in my own skin and more relaxed but this in between stage is a little hard to look at I the mirror. I want to see the woman I am inside but the guy keeps intruding…and he is not welcome!

My hair is the longest it has ever been and if I don’t comb it back as I do in guy mode I can let my bangs fall naturally over my forehead, hiding the typically male widows peak hair line. I am seriously considering finding a stylist who will have a go at giving me a female cut that could be easily be combed from female to male. If not….back to short back and sides.

My spouse had been great and remembers most of the tome to call me April and even use female pronouns. Next step is to introduce my female wardrobe to daylight hours and the children.

Depression and Frustration

I didn’t get out this weekend and the inability to be fully April, even for a short time weighted heavily on my mind. I am better than before, a few months ago I would be super depressed. Therapy has helped deal with the depression and perhaps I can see a brief light at the end of the tunnel where I will be April all the time.

Prison of Masculinity

Part of the reason I could not get out was the male part of my life had too many demands. The Lincoln Mark IV is still on the disabled list. I pulled the fuel pump and have started to rebuild the carb as both the garage I are in agreement that the problem is fuel delivery related. I didn’t get a chance to finish the job as the shop gave me the wrong fuel pump and filter! Covered in gasoline and grease and feeling anything but feminine I needed a 45 minute shower to get all the crud off me.

No replacement could be sourced Sunday so I finally had to tackle the floor repair on my Oldsmobile Toronado. I had stripped the interior and removed all the wet sound deadening material due to a sunroof leak. Satisfied that I found and fixed the leak (oh god I hope so!) I have to strip off the surface rust on the floor, fix a small hole and repaint before the interior can go back in. I got most of the sanding and painting done last night and reinstalled the power driver’s seat….heavy. The plan is to put a top coat on the floor tonight and drive her to work Tuesday. We had a hot weekend and I was drenched in sweat and covered in metal and rust fragments by the time I was done for the evening. Time for the second long shower of the day.

Sorry, getting carried away with all the car stuff, the point is that I was rather down about having to do all these car repairs, like a guy. I love the cars but don’t really enjoy the getting dirty part anymore. The cars were feeling like a self made prison and I strongly resented the time I was spending on them. The defensive wall I had built out of cars to keep the pink fog out was now a prison forcing me to still be a man.

A rationalization of the fleet is coming. I wish I could keep the most expensive ones but they may well go to finance surgeries.

Peace and Hope

I don’t know if I consciously applied any of the techniques I have learned for fighting depression. But a long shower, shaved legs and then slipping into a soft cotton nightie and a fuzzy robe really helped. I curled up on the sofa with a cup of tea and watched the latest episode of Mad Men. Simple pleasures but everything seemed a better, I felt peaceful, I felt like me and some hope returned.

Hugs,

April