To set your mind at rest, this is not a public service announcement about birth control or an announcement that I have finally decided to ‘grow a pair’ by renouncing my male status and taking those wonderful little pills in the hope that I’ll, er, ‘grow a pair’ but, rather, the age old question about whether, confronted by a plate containing two pills, we’d take the red one or the blue one. The whole idea originally came from the film ‘The Matrix’ where it was a metaphor for choosing between uncomfortable truth (the red pill) or blissful ignorance (the blue pill).
It’s a question that pops up on trans-themed forums from time to time and it can take various forms – for example the red pill erases all memories of biological sex and the blue pill erases all thoughts of being anything other than one’s biological sex. Many of the versions of this are firmly rooted in fantasy and consideration of one’s preferred option becomes a philosophical exercise. But today I want to consider an interpretation of the question that is not completely without the realms of possibility from a crossdressing perspective. In this scenario, the pills work as follows:
Blue: all urges to CD disappear and although memories of past excursions over the gender divide remain, there is no longer an emotional imperative to act on them. We can think of this as a metaphor for some of the practical strategies we can adopt to deal with the urges and turn our back on CDing.
Red: basically a placebo which has no effect other than to leave the whoever takes it with the feeling that they have made a positive choice.
I’ve been in discussions surrounding this a few times and, each time, my response has been emphatically blue. This whole business has blighted my life and nearly cost me my marriage and I would have gladly taken anything to make it go away.
This would probably be one of the all-time shortest posts on Kandi’s Land if I’d stopped there but I have to confess that I’ve been having second thoughts.
The blight on my life has been real and I’ve always wondered how others in a similar position have declared that their transness is a gift. From the earliest time that I tried on a pair of my mother’s tights/ pantyhose I’ve been fighting a battle. The first salvo happened within a minute of experiencing the wonder of nylon against my still hairless teenage legs – things happened ‘downstairs’, quickly reaching their predictable climax for the first time in my life. That was two firsts within a minute of each other! And that particular battle raged for some years, on the one hand loving the sensation but on the other believing that I was nothing more than a deviant turned on by the whole business. And there was collateral damage too – the fear of getting that sort of reaction when going anywhere near anything vaguely feminine, let alone trying it on. At that time, I would have given anything to get my hands on that little blue pill.
I could perhaps theorise that my transgender proclivities affected my dating drive – the feeling that I wanted to be the girls I admired subconsciously preventing me from pursuing them with any seriousness – although being turned down by the majority of the girls I asked out probably had more to do with it so I’ll move on.
When I met Mrs A, it really did feel like I had taken the blue pill. There were absolutely no urges and a growing sense of relief that I had finally managed to put it all behind me. Seeing Mrs A in a cute dress and heels pushed any thoughts of emulating her right out of my mind and my sense of relief was palpable. But in many respects, that relief was short lived. It would only be a matter of time before a programme featuring some aspect of transgenderism appeared in the TV schedules or a photo of an attractive woman appeared on a double page newspaper spread with the headline ‘I was born a man’ and I sensed that my past was catching up with me. It wasn’t a case of wanting to cross the divide, at least not in the early days, but the abject fear that I would give the game away if Mrs A made a particular comment. Guilt about the whole thing grew and, on occasion, became crushing. How I wished that I had been able to get my hands on that little blue pill as soon as I realised that I was different. That battle would have been over as soon as it started and I’d have nothing to feel guilty about now I was living a conventional life (or at least trying to).
But the battle intensified and after 18 years of marriage in 2009, I once again experienced the joy of CDing. By now, there was no sexual angle, just a deep seated feeling that it somehow felt right. Of course, it was anything but somehow right and led to four years of deception until everything came crashing down in late 2013 and I had no option other than to confess all to Mrs A. That blue pill would have been very handy in 2009 when it all resumed and even handier from mid-2014 when Mrs A issued a cease and desist ultimatum and I had nothing but willpower to help me deal with the urges.
We all know that this never goes away so it was inevitable that, in mid-2019, I couldn’t hold out any longer and picked up where I’d left off leading to another 3.5 years of deception. Where was that blue pill when I needed it? And even when I had to confess for a second time and Mrs A gave her blessing to DADT, I realised that there remained significant challenges – not least because keeping it away from Mrs A (as she wanted nothing to do with it despite giving her blessing for it to continue) remained as hard as ever – and taking the blue pill was still an attractive proposition.
So taking the blue pill should have been a no brainer but, as I said at the outset, I’ve been having second thoughts.
Whilst, to my knowledge, no such blue pill exists, there is an equivalent – psychotherapy. These days, of course, seeking psychotherapy to deal with urges to CD is on rather shaky ground because it skirts around the edges of conversion therapy. Is helping someone deal with the urges to CD by using a strategy other than giving in to those urges conversion therapy? In my book it’s an important therapy for those who want it and, as I am now approaching the time when Mrs A will retire and the already scant opportunities I have to express my feminine side will dwindle to negligible levels, I was starting to give serious thought to seeking a therapist who could perhaps guide me to a place where I no longer need to CD.
But so far, I’ve been able to resist the idea of seeking professional help. Whilst a significant factor has been the fact that psychotherapists charge for their services and the costs soon mount up, I was also hearing a little voice in my head questioning whether I really wanted to walk away from this.
I’ve tried walking away in the past. I’ve lost count of the number of full and final purges I’ve done but it’s at least five and possibly nearer ten. It felt good at the time but then the grief set in and frustration levels rose until I could stand it no more and restocked. Perhaps, in those days, psychotherapy may have helped although I suspect that it would have only postponed the inevitable for a little bit longer rather than enabling me to draw a permanent line under my feminine life.
But in recent times, something more profound has happened. For a long time, my CDing was just about the clothes. I liked the sensation of the softer clothes against my skin and enjoyed letting my mind wander into the hypothetical world where I was female. The scope of my outfit choices was very narrow – just stiletto courts/ pumps and a knee length dress – as that was all I needed to fuel the fantasy. Dressing sessions were usually short – perhaps one hour or less and nothing much to write home about, so to speak. But then something happened that upended every preconception I had about my CDing…
I met Amanda.
I don’t remember exactly when I ‘met’ her for the first time and I would also go as far as to say that it would take further ‘meetings’ before I realised what had happened. No longer were CDing sessions just about wearing clothes for a few minutes, now it was like reconnecting with an old friend, someone who I could recognise and who I grew to love deeply. When I walked to the mirror and saw her smiling back, she looked as pleased to see me as I was to see her. And as I got to know her better, I wanted to show her my world – a world that eventually started to become her world.
I watched with a sense of pride as her confidence grew, taking herself into situations that I never in a million years imagined she could ever cope with. I saw her blossom as she developed her own style and realised that it was her, not just what she wore, that defined her femininity. I felt her yearnings to be seen by others and shared in her delight when her wishes came true. I experienced deep happiness as she was able to experience womanhood in a way that had been denied to her for so long. I saw first hand the way people she interacted with warmed to her. And I’ve never been happier than the day when she was finally able to declare ‘I’ve got this’ and live her life in her own right rather than hiding behind my identity.
How could I even think of consigning her to just a memory?
Of course, the preceding paragraphs were fanciful and poetic in nature but read between the lines and they had more than an element in truth in their message. Giving up CDing was easy – just purge everything and try and weather the storm – and even when the inevitable restock happened, it was a different outfit, different hair and just didn’t feel like reconnecting with an old friend. But now, if circumstances conspire against me, I miss ‘her’. Granted, I’ve got photos and if I want to try out a new outfit, AI comes to the rescue but nothing compensates for being able to experience life through her eyes. And perhaps most telling is what I depicted as her declaring ‘I’ve got this’. Gone are the days when her arrival was in a suitcase, hidden behind my male exterior and her emergence was a hurried dash either out of the house or past a hotel receptionist in the hope that no one would make the connection between my two sides; now, ‘Amanda’ can be a person in her own right, introducing herself as herself and interacting with others on her own terms.
As my life progressed, I’ve often wondered what it really was that I was looking for. I learned early on that wishing I was female is not the same thing as wanting to take steps to become one, at least as far as is possible for someone with XY chromosomes to do that. On the one hand, I looked on women with envy, yearning to be a part of their world, but on the other experiencing the feeling that I didn’t really belong there with perhaps a sense of relief that I always had the fallback of being male. Looking for answers can be hard enough at the best of times but ten- or even one hundred times more difficult when the question isn’t clear.
And yet in recent times, I’ve had a clarity of thought that eluded me for so long. I just wanted to stop suppressing half of my personality and allow it to flourish. I wanted others to see me as I see myself, however I happen to see myself at a particular point in time. I wanted the reassurance that my chromosomes do not need to stand in the way of me living life on my terms. I wanted to experience acceptance for who I am and be reassured that it’s OK to be different. And above all, I wanted to be able to look in the mirror and love what I see.
Life isn’t perfect, though. ‘Amanda’ still has to be hidden from those closest to me and, more often than not, she has to accept that she cannot spread her wings and be free, despite her pleas to the contrary. The blue pill remains the easy way out and like all of the other people who once featured in my life but no longer do, I know that my memories of her would fade in time. But in my heart, I know that I have so much more to experience in her persona and even if I didn’t, why would I even consider drawing a line under something that brings me a level of happiness I just don’t experience in my normal life.
So whilst I could take the ‘blue pill’ or in realistic terms seek psychotherapy to help me overcome my need to openly express my feminine side, my biggest worry now is that it would be successful. I want to embrace the inner woman, not consign her to oblivion because the truth is that, without her, I’m only half a person. And so, in the full knowledge that the red pill is nothing more than a placebo, I’m happy to make that choice and take it. Its benign nature won’t change a thing and I’ll still face exactly the same challenges that I do at the moment. There’ll still be times when the blue pill will seem to be a far better option but there will also be times when I’m able to experience the euphoria of being who I really am.
25 Responses
Oh Amanda, a wonderful article! Thank you. I am somewhat different than you in my understanding of self. I am transgender, and though there is no objective proof to confirm my identity, I identify as a woman. Female I am not, not by any stretch of the imagination, but I would be if I could be, monthly cycle and all of it.
I have had the desire to be the opposite gender; the opposite sex since I was 5. I am 70 now. It has only been 2 years that I finally “figured it out”. Not really figured, but finally acknowledged that “It” equals I am trans and at my soul level (not biologically) I identify as female.
So red (let me think pink) pill and I am a woman, sans any collateral damage to family / friends, I would take it in a heart beat.
Perhaps the most telling reason for this decision is because in reality it honestly frightens me to be a man without my trans identity. Take that away and I have no sense of the man I would be if I wasn’t trans. I cannot seem to “see” it.
However, I know exactly the kind of woman I am and would be if I could be. I can clearly see Charlene, aka, Charrie to my friends. And that’s enough to make me realize I am satisfied to be trans. I have the heart of a woman and staying trans as I am, maybe, just maybe I will have the privilege of being outwardly all day every day who.I know myself to be inwardly. I certainly have the heart for it.
Kindly,
Charrie
Thank you very much for sharing your thoughts and for your kind words, Charrie!
I don’t think that any of us would pretend that this is easy. There’s a lot of frustration, conflict, uncertainty and all of the other things that seem to go with the territory. But I think there’s a real beauty in being able to find ourselves, understand who we really are and, if we’re really lucky, uncover what lies beneath the surface. I try not to use expressions such as ‘true self’ or ‘authentic self’ and whilst I would never assert that ‘Amanda’ is my authentic self, the truth is that I don’t feel inauthentic presenting as her. And I think that the fact that despite all of the challenges she brings to our lives, we protect the inner woman at all costs speaks volumes.
Just expressing an opposite view—-so many articles like this one on various sites are replete with feelings that there is something wrong with the writer-considering therapy etc. My view–there is nothing “wrong” with us. It’s all in the brain. Do you think everyone has a perfectly formed brain which fits to a T? Well you are wrong. One example (proven) is that there are a group of folks who lack any empathy etc.. Turns out that portion of the brain is just missing.This can lead to criminal activity
So with us I’ve seen studies that hold that there is a misfire in the womb and we end up with a female brain. If so-why should we feel guilty for emulating what our brain tells us we should be?
It’s a complex issue. Originally the negative thoughts I had were solely focussed on myself – shame, fear, disgust and all of that sort of thing. But once a wife and then kids were added to the equation, things got a lot more complex. As I tried to convey in the post, I absolutely love who I become/ uncover these days and whilst I can never unequivocally state that I’d transition in some shape or form if I only had to worry about myself (although it’s a pathway I’d be happy to explore), these days I feel the tension between the love of this side of me and its incompatibility with my other life. So what I was trying to say here is that the red pill accepts the compromises I have to make to preserve ‘Amanda’ whereas the blue pill simplifies my life by removing that tension. For a long time I would have taken that metaphorical blue pill but nowadays I love my deminine side too much to consider relinquishing it.
It’s not about being ‘cured’ or anything like that and I’m certainly not the only one here who acknowledges the tension, admits that life would be much easier without it but is prepared to put up with the aggro in order for the feminine side to flourish.
Amanda, thank you for that wonderful essay. I think life is full of changes in each of us a individuals. We define ourselves as we grow older. I feel I have a complex gender identity. I would never give up on my male side, and that had always defined who I was. When I discovered my feminine side it did take me some time to learn what that meant in how I see myself. Now I see myself as a dual gender person. When I present as a woman I want to blend in very much the way Kandi does.
There are many difficulties to be overcome. My wife is still opposed to my feminine side. The problems with our relationship are much more then my feminine side. Life is full of challenges, but I feel strongly about expressing my feminine side. Acceptance is the greatest gift someone can give to another person. I will not ever give up on my loved ones or myself.
I love your insight into our feminine side.
Julie, thank you. So much of what you write resonates with me. The life we lead is far from easy and, as I said above, for most of my life I would have given anything to make all of this go away. But I’ve now come to appreciate the postive effect it has on me and the challenge now is giving ‘her’ enough time to flourish.
And just to pick up on your point about blending in. To me, that’s even more rewarding than the high-glam outfits that I used to go for. Those fuelled a fantasy that was almost impossible to bring to reality; dressing to blend in involves proper planning, decisions on outfits and the realisation that it’s for a genuine purpose that comes to fruition as soon as the front door is opened. And on a practical note, I think we get far more acceptance as a result of being seen to conform than we ever would wearing things that make us stand out.
Amanda,
I’m sorry that I am late to this discussion.
I do really like and identify strongly with Julie’s comments.
But we all know life is not black or white (blue or red). We live in a world of grey, sometimes dark grey, sometimes light grey.
I have been so happy and natural being trans. I am proud of my appearance and the many new friends I have made. But, I also like many of my male-side activities and friends and loved family. Those two worlds cannot come together. And I cope OK with that.
No coloured pill will change any of that. BUT, if I knew when I was twenty, what I know now at 75, my life would have been completely different. Have you got a pill for time travel?
I have enjoyed this post. Thanks for writing it.
Love,
Jocelyn
Jocelyn, thank you and no apology necessary!
As for the world of grey, dark and light is fine, 50 shades, not so sure about!
The ‘if only I knew then what I know now’ question is an interesting one. Times were very different half a century ago and I’ve done a lot of soul searching only to come to the conclusion that I probably wouldn’t have changed anything. What I do wish, though, is that I’d been able to accept and embrace this side of myself rather than fighting an ultimately fruitless battle for so long. What I do wonder, though, is how I’d approach this if I was 50 years younger now in a world where there’s widespread support and it doesn’t automatically signal career suicide.
Sadly no time travel pill and had to sell my Tardis when things got a bit tight last year.
Hi Amanda,
Like you, for the first 50 years of my life I will have taken the Blue pill if asked. As a teenager I was deeply ashamed of my CDing and wished it would go away. It also made me in other ways push my masculinity to compensate and I did many foolhardy things.i did CD in my 20s but at social acceptable things like Rocky Horror or Fancy Dress charity events but either never confided in girlfriend or qive and I sensed they would not want to engage. My wife strongly disapproved and I buried my urges for a very long time focusing on work and sport and ignoring all things trans.
Then around 50 all things changed my marriage broke down and I started a new relationship. My new girlfriend wanted complete honesty, and once I told her she was not dismissive or negative but actually excited and intrigued. We went out dressed one together and had a great time then covid hit but that gave us time to get to know each other and work on what the boundaries for Tanja would be and what each of us were comfortable with. She actually pushes Tanja to do more. So in my 6th decade I am now for the red pill, as despite the self-loathing and negativity of my earlier years, some of the joy I have had in recent ones I would never want to go away.
Tanja, thank you for sharing your thoughts and it’s nice to hear that you’ve found a soulmate to share this side of you with. I know from personal experience how exhausting all of this is in a climate of disapproval – my wife tolerates this but doesn’t want any part of it. That said, I’m happy to keep my two worlds completely separate but I’m increasingly finding that they’re starting to overlap and that will require another conversation with her, something I’m definitely not looking forward to.
In my world she would no longer be my wife.
It is painful to read how your “wife” wants nothing to do with it.
That’s not love and common understanding, that’s a mind and heart that need to go a separate way from yours. They are closed off and full of bogeyman type fear.
She is doing you or herself no favors and in fact doing both of you irreparable harm.
I genuinely wish you luck and courage to be you 100% of the time. <3
Zaya, thank you for taking the time to share your thoughts.
We all cope with this in different ways; for me what works is thinking about my two sides inhabiting two completely different worlds. ‘His’ world has the family, financial responsibilities and all of the usual stuff. Amanda’s world has none of this, just freedom and wonderful experiences. It does limit the time I can spend in Amanda’s world but it also means that there are no encumbrances either. What I can say is that if things were different and Amanda was someone my wife met, I don’t think they’d naturally gel as friends, they’re just too different. I do sometimes envy those in my position who have the full support and involvement of their wives but overall I’m happy with the compromise that we have.
Amanda,
If it were as simple as taking the right pill but of course being transgender is far from simple . I know some people comment that their dysphoria started as early as 4 or 5 , mine started at about 8-9 but then it became complicated because my T kicked early in at about 9 years old so my brain was trying to deal with wanting to wear my sister’s clothes combined with sexual urges I didn’t undestand at that age . It begs the question if suitable pills were available then what would I have taken because I really didn’t understand what I was experiencing . I look back realising that at the age of 10 + I could have fathered a child while at the same time I wanted to be a girl ! Since then the need to dress never left me , I called it a gut feeling , knowing something wasn’t quite right , there has never been a break from it in my life .
Talking of pills and possible therapy sugests we are looking for a cure , you comment on the possibility of curbing your needs through counselling . I’m sure you’re not naive enough to realise counselling doesn’t work in that way , they enable you
to impartially talk through your situation , you then rely on their experience to help you find a workable solution , they won’t attempt to stop or encourage your needs . The problem I ran into and no doubt you might is that they often need to talk to all concerned parties , in my case my ex refused because in her words , ” I was the broken one that needed fixing ” . I met a brick wall because I had no where to go with the help I was receiving from my gender counsellor .
Now the simple question would I have taken a blue pill to subdue those needs or would I have grabbed the red pill with both hands ? Like most I can only answer in hindsight , also as you comment the dressing is only part of the equation , we only realise what the female side feels like when we set foot in the RW , for me it just felt right . I found a contentment , happiness and calm that I hadn’t felt before , I knew it would come at a price but I’d reached a point where I had to finally think about ME , I had to be realistic about the gains and losses .
The simple solution for you if it were possible would be able to dress as Amanda as you wish without restrictions , it could go either way , on the one hand it might burn itself out or it might lead to fulltime . This is why counsellors and the Gender Recognition Panel ask you to experience it for two years before hormones or surgery can be considered . I’ve now been eight years and it that time I realised my life has become normal and complete without further medical intervention , these days transition is flexible , it’s what works for the individual .
Tersa, I shall forgive you for raising the question about my naivety (and draw a modicum of comfort from your reasonable certainty that I am not so afflicted) and hope you will similarly forgive my directness here.
The first thing to point out is that at no point in the post did I talk about counselling. I’m no expert on counselling but from what I understand (and your comment more or less confirms this) it’s designed to help the ‘patient’ come to terms with their dysphoria. It tends to fall under the umbrella term of ‘gender affirming care’ which implies a pathway towards transition in some shape or form (full or part time, medical or social etc.). Psychotherapy is different in that it is generally designed to develop strategies that modify behaviour.
And that gives rise to an important distinction. Things like gender dysphoria, fetishism, autogynephelia and other drivers are conditions, crossdressing is a behaviour derived from one or more of those conditions. Psychotherapy doesn’t seek to cure the condition, just understand its sources and modify the behaviours as a result. To use myself as an example, it was the crossdressing that nearly blew up my marriage, not whatever it is that is the underlying reason for it.
The point of this post was not to document an abortive search for a cure but instead to describe a transition from a state where I hated this side of me so much that I would have tried anything to rid myself of it to one where I am able to embrace it. The pressures are still the same, if anything they have intensified as options that once seemed impossible are now just there for the taking but I will always prioritise my family’s needs above my own. There is no ‘one size fits all’ solution to this as we are all unique and the right answer for one person can be completely wrong for another
Amanda,
Sorry I wasn’t accusing you of being naive , I know some people do have the misconception of counselling as being a cure ( as my ex did ) . On the who;e they may ease the way towards transition but it is important that all parties are on board because a different solution may become evident .
I also know about psychotherapists , through circumstances my GP refered me to private clinic , the guy was well known , I came to the conclusion very quickly that he needed more help than me ! Again we hit the wall very quickly because he insisted my wife attended and again she refused .
My crossdressing was probably the straw that broke the camel’s back with my ex , sadly I discovered through the situation how little she loved me , that cut very deep and almost ended my life . Sometimes we can assume too much with relationships , we feel we’ve done our best but it obviously wasn’t enough , this is why I have no regrets now I did do my best .
I didn’t hate myself , the problem was the depth of shame and guilt and yes on occasions when I felt my head was going to explode did cry out , ” WHY ME !” The only cure was the thought one day I would grow out of it , it was just a carry over from my childhood . This is why I feel it’s so important to know the facts of what drives such a powerful force , it’s impossible to deny it , counselling filled in the blanks .
Don’t worry, I took the naive comment in the spirit it was intended!
The fundamental problem here is that we are dealing with the mind. I know that there is a school of thought that asserts that a flood of oestrogen in the womb had physical consequences in terms of brain development (and I’m inclined to think that’s a plausible explanation) the discomfort comes from thoughts, not the physical ‘defect’ itself. And we have got to the point where treatment for that particular condition is described as ‘affirming’ presenting immediate challenges for those of us who do not want to proceed down an affirming pathway.
And as you have correctly observed, not all ‘professionals’ are competent and there’s also the question of whether a belief in the prevailing gender ideology is a prerequisite for specialising in this particular field. There are exceptions – Az Hakeem being one of the best known at present – but for the most part I suspect that’s the case.
Personally, I’m happy to steer well clear of all of this; I recognise the importance of Amanda in my life but I also know where my priorities lie. I don’t want to lose her from my life but, equally, I don’t want her to take it over.
Hi Amanda, and wow talking about baring your soul. You may as well said this is how Trish and I feel. And after reading your amazing post that hit very close to home I now know why my favourite colour is blue 🤭.
I totally know that had I not married I would have transitioned fully at some point. And the sad thing is the older I get the desire to transition and thoughts of transitioning has increased…….a lot. When I was in my late twenties my wife went on the estrogen patches and I used to take some of them for myself. It even got to the point where I had started to get breast buds and due me playing soccer(football) and my son playing hockey. I had to stop. Now in my later years I had purchased Pueraria Marifica a natural progesterone. They say it can develope breast growth in men. I was skeptical but soon found out it worked. Last summer as I was lounging around the pool my wife said you better quit taking those pills, I can see your breasts are starting to fill out. So again I had to stop taking them too. But the desire to have breasts (the blue pills) has never gone away. As usual, thank you for another well written thought provoking post. Love ya girl ❤️
Trish, thanks for sharing your experiences and for your kind words. The increase in desire as we get older seems to be a common thread in many of our lives and I know that the jury is out as to whether it has a biological or psychological explanation. I know that many report that taking oestrogen has had a calming effect on them but I can’t help wondering whether it’s genuinely therapeutic it its own right, whether it’s seeing the physical effects (i.e. breast growth, skin softening and fat redistribution etc.) that provides the calming reaction or whether it’s just the psychological consequence of taking the pill and a placebo would work in the same way.
As usual, I’m overthinking this and the main thing is that we can come to terms with it and can lead a happy life, whatever form that takes.
Amanda,
Hormones work in different ways on each inidvidual , many of my friends admitted to a calming effect but it was often more to do with the reduction of testosterone . The side effects aren’t to everyone’s liking , while the reduction of hair growth and the possibility of breast growth is great some felt the need to experiment sexually with men , I’m not getting into the rights and wrongs of those feelings but it definitely wasn’t something I needed . This is where being transgender raises complications , at my age I accept good friendships are more important than a possibly unreliable relationship , I cherish my freedom now to be ME .
Ultimately, your final words are all we can ever really ask for, whatever ‘being me’ means in our individual case. We can speculate as to why hormones can work but in the end, the conclusion is quite simple – if they make things better, continue with them, if they make things worse, stop them and if they’re unnecessary, don’t take them.
Amanda,
I hope you don’t mind a further comment on the professionals who may or may not be able to help us .
As you may have gathered I’ve been there and got the T shirt , (perhaps I should buy one and get the words , ” I’ve been shrunk ” printed across the front !) As we realise it’s not an illness so they can’t offer a cure , it’s a medical field where the subjects provide all the information for them to base their findings and assessments on , they need us as much as we need them . As you point out the feelings we need to express are locked inside our heads , we all have a different way of displaying them , that obviously creates problems with the professionals . I found the basic problem with professionals is they have to work with boxes and labels , finding the right box can create problems as we don’t always fit in one box and also we tend to evolve so we have to switch boxes which means our labels don’t always apply .
For that period of my life I had to accept that situation if both the professionals and myself were to move forward , I also accept the thought of professional help was scary at first because I had to believe I was transgender . At that time the norm was assessments followed by hormones and surgery , I was lucky because I ventured out enough to meet other transgender people socially . I really can’t over emphasise how that helps , talking to others on various journeys and also listening to their wives or partners , it was my therapy first hand , not second hand from counsellors or therapists .
I’ve recently applied for a Gender Recognition Certificate simply because of the concerns over the Supreme Court rulings . The GR Panel have asked for further evidence from more pressional bodies , I’m now in two minds to continue because I’m having to take a step back to being professionally placed back in boxes with appropriate labels I feel after eight years full time I’ve moved on from all that . Besides the SC has stated clearly their decision overrules a GRC , so many transgender people have based their lives on the issue of GRCs .
I agree. The particular worry I have about the professionals is that pretty well all of them are affirming in some shape or form. That’s fine if the individual can go on to lead a happy life but not so fine if the individual doesn’t want to land on that particular pathway. And the danger there is that anything other than a fully affirming approach could be branded ‘conversion therapy’ with all of the issues that brings (including possible outlawing). Helping someone develop coping strategies is not conversion therapy but will it be seen that way?
About 5 years ago I’m convinced someone surreptitiously slipped me a “blue” pill. I was deep in this community. I came back from an outing and out my femme stuff away. I never took it back out. I was not toiling about it, wasn’t looking for some kind of deliverance. I didn’t make a choice to stop. It was just something that “happened” to me. I have over 30,000 pictures. All of a sudden I seemed to have no interest in them. Recently I have “tried” to dress. When you break a glass cup into a couple of pieces you can get some super glue and out it back together. It’s as if someone broke her into a million pieces. As much as I have tried, I simply cannot not care to try and reassemble her. There is just no interest. I was 55 when this happened and recently turned 60. For 50 years this thing took me on some of my highest highs and lowest lows. When I now look at the pics it’s as if I’m looking at a funeral program. Part of me is sad however part of me is glad to be done with her. After all the years of trying to get rid of her. Eventually, she apparently just left on her own. No explanation at all. I am tempted to return to my therapist to see if she can help me figure it out.
Karen, thank you for sharing your experience. What you’ve experienced is definitely something I can relate to albeit I’ve yet to experience what you have on a permanent basis. I do suspect that it has a lot to do with the extent to which things in the rest of our lives are promininent. I first CDed in my mid teens but marriage combined with a corporate career led to an 18 year hiatus. It was only after I left the corporate world and had a lot of time on my own at home that things resurfaced.
Karen,
I guess your brain slipped you that ” little blue pill” . We are driven by what is in our heads all based on our chemistry , something changed that pattern for you . The question is do you want Karen back , if so what do you miss about her ?
It’s one of my fears thinking if I can sustain Teresa as I get older , obviously I’m in deeper because I’ve officially changed my name , everything in my life is about Teresa . I can only travel with her passport and drive my car , I have no male clothes .