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

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