Pink Essence: Why I Chose to Discontinue My Membership

I was a member of Pink Essence for a number of years and I recently decided to discontinue my membership as did Patty.

There were many benefits that I got from being a member and my decision to end my membership in this community ultimately has to do with a decision that Chloe Prince made to open up Pink Essence access to the World Wide Web.

I have known about this decision for quite a long time and at times worried about what the personal implications for my private life might be. Then again, I have this blog which would throw into question why I might be so concerned about my privacy. After all, I have given a great number of workshops around the eastern U.S. over the past 5 years and I have documented my transition here as well as on Pink Essence.

However, when I decided to write my own blog, I made the decision to be more public. When Ms. Prince made the decision to open Pink Essence up to the internet at large she made a decision that has the potential to harm many people who are not prepared to be potentially discovered by family or employers or by friends. It is a difficult path that we walk and for those who are not ready to deal with being outed at a time when they are just coming to terms with themselves, this is potentially disastrous. When  one considers that we have a rate of over 40% of us who attempt suicide at some point in our lives due to the heavy price we pay for attempting to come to a place of peace with ourselves and the associated losses of families, friends and careers, among other things, perhaps Pink Essence is no longer a safe haven for those who are just coming to terms with themselves.

In my situation, family did discover my presence on Pink Essence and it did recently cost me and Patty some relationships that we held dear. I don't fault Pink Essence for my own losses, but I think someone not as far down the path as I am and who has not worked as hard at self acceptance as I have may not be as emotionally prepared to pay the price that Patty and I just paid by not ending my membership when I first became aware of the new policy opening up Pink Essence to the World Wide Web.

The value of Pink Essence is mostly for new people who are coming to terms with their gender identity. They are also the most vulnerable people on Pink Essence. Having made the decision to open up Pink Essence to the World Wide Web puts the most vulnerable of us at risk.

Unfortunately, I have seen a huge turnover in membership. This is most likely because many of us who have transitioned and accomplished what we set out to accomplish (a successful transition), have no need for what Pink Essence offers. Other people who have successfully transitioned stick around to offer advice on what worked and what didn't on our journey to becoming whole.

I believe that opening up Pink Essence is a huge disadvantage to those who have transitioned and want to live a private life, even if they wish to contribute in a positive way to the lives of others who feel lost and are trying to figure out how to be happy and live a fulfilled life.

It is also a huge disadvantage for those who need a safe and private place to discuss the often painful issues that we face on our way to finding peace and happiness.

I only wish Chloe Prince well, as well as future success. I hope that those who join Pink Essence find what they need on their journey, but I also hope people will be aware of the risks associated with membership on Pink Essence and make a wise decision if the benefits of membership will outweigh the risks involved.

To read an article I wrote about the benefits of belonging to social websites such as Pink Essence that I wrote earlier, please follow this link:

http://twoworldstranstherapist.blogspot.com/2012/08/in-praise-of-pink-essence-and-social.html

Disowned

In the span of a little over an hour, my life took another radical change again. At first, I thought it had taken a serious turn for the worse. It felt catastrophic and I wanted to vomit. Then I felt empty and could not put any words together. I wanted to die, but I had no urge to kill myself. I was not suicidal. I just wondered why my life goes on and why can’t it just be over. I had no answers for those questions, but that all turned around in a rather short period of time as you will see.

What happened was that shortly after I got home from work, my daughter in law called to tell Patty that they (she and my stepson) knew the truth about me and what a pervert I was. She went on to tell her that she was vile and disgusting and that as far as she was concerned that we were dead to them and she would tell our grandchildren that we do not exist. She also said that she would also call Patty’s other two children to inform them so that they would be sure to disown us as well. Poor Patty endured this venomous spew from this unlovely person and never returned an angry word.

Patty, of course, is devastated. We had agreed that I would not present myself to them as I truly am out of consideration for Patty’s feelings. It was a small sacrifice to me for someone I love, as we were pretty sure of this type of reaction as my daughter in law has been a very destructive force in the family dynamics on so many levels over the years. She has ensured that her husband is alienated from his brother and has created major problems in the family relationships with her husband’s sister’s husband, his brother in law, our son in law. Now, when we try to arrange a family get together, our son in law will not attend. Once in awhile, my step daughter attends and I have tried to avoid these occasions because I know my daughter in law doesn't want me around. Patty has sensed the same thing over the years. We are never asked to spend any time with our grandchildren except when my daughter in law is present. We have never been asked to babysit and have never spent any time with them unless she ensures she is present. This is true even if I weren't involved. My daughter in law has always excluded my wife from spending time alone with the grandchildren, unlike the access she has allowed her family.

It seems though in the aftermath of this, it has become a very freeing experience for me. It was a painful sort of rebirth of which I have experienced many such along my journey.

I am free of having to pretend that I feel accepted and a part of Patty’s family. I have almost always felt like an unwelcome outsider, particularly by my daughter in law over the years. That was going on way before my daughter in law’s discovery about me today. Now I will never see them or interact with them again. My daughter in law, once again has shown us her black heart.

However, the pain that my truth causes Patty once again, just by my truth of being me becoming known to others, is heartbreaking for me. I don’t know how I can ever make up to her that her choice to remain in a relationship with me cost her relationship with at least one and maybe all of her children. It may not be possible to do that at all.

In two days we leave to go on a vacation we have both been looking forward to a long time to a place we both enjoy when we visit. I’m not sure either one of us cares at this minute about that vacation any longer. Hopefully though, this will be an opportunity to become even closer through experiencing the unreasoning and ignorant hatred of my daughter in law. I hope we will just forget about this over the next week and focus on us having fun and relaxing together.

What is positive from this horrible experience is that I feel no need to retaliate in kind, though I have first hand knowledge of things my daughter in law has done that would jeopardize her professional career and reputation, due to the same destructive need to maliciously gossip about people.

Her treatment towards my wife shows her to be a low and common person, someone who enjoys inflicting pain on others and she lacks the courage of her convictions to say them to my face over the phone.

However, they failed to recreate the feelings of guilt and shame that are common to people who grow up knowing they are transsexual. This is a reflection of the hard work and growth that I have accomplished in self-acceptance.

My God requires that I forgive her and I have made a lot of progress this evening towards that goal.  In this sense, it is a purely selfish act. It is only for me and not meant to benefit her in any real way. It allows me to feel the full grace of peace and love that God has for me. I bind her from doing emotional harm, something she seems to crave the need to do to others, as evidenced by the many examples over the time I have known her. My most sincere wish is that she is also bound from harming Patty in the same way. I simply won’t think of her in the future.

What I Did For Football, What Football Did to Me

I want to be absolutely clear that the intent of this article is NOT to malign the sport of football, which one might infer from the title. To the contrary, I continue to enjoy watching football to this day and I believe that my prior participation in the game helped me to build the internal strength and courage to successfully face my gender identity issues and finally be able to live an authentic life, despite the consequences I endured from playing the game.

I was 12 years old when I stepped onto the field to play real football with the big boys. I would be entering the 7^th grade that fall, but the rest of the boys who came out for summer practice were mostly 16 and older and no one else was younger than 15. They were for the most part four to six years older than me. We called summer practice “Captain’s Practice” and it began the last week of June for four weeks. We were to get into shape to begin organized practice that began in the last week of July and went on until school started the first week of September and the season began the first Saturday in September.

The Junior Varsity team would not form up until the school started and played their first game in late September. I couldn’t afford to wait that long to begin playing football because I had something to prove. I had to prove it to everyone else but more importantly I had to try to prove a lie to myself about who I really was. In all truth, back then, I secretly wanted to one of the cheerleaders rather than be a football player, but I knew that could never be.

Why else would someone who was outweighed by anywhere from 40 to well over 100 pounds subject themselves to full contact football? The other question that came much later in life, was what kind of judgment were the adults who ran this particular program exercising to allow someone so much younger and so much smaller to engage at this level of competition with the high probability of injuries which were inevitable in this situation?

However, ultimately, the person who decided to do this was me. The more important question is why would I engage in such a foolish and dangerous activity? That is a question that can only to be answered by me. Simply put, it was because I had something to try to convince myself of that was not true. It was something that was not true to convince everyone else who had no idea what it was I was trying to prove, because I was unwilling to face my own truth.

As I’ve written about earlier, I knew I was not a boy and was really a girl, no matter what my biological reality was when I had the language to identify it. That was around age 6. I also knew the word for people like me at that time, but this, the summer of my twelfth year, was also the summer that I began to read the professional books about transsexuals and learn more specific information about myself. What I read terrified me because I was reading about my truth and my reality. These learned professionals were describing me in detail and they had no way of knowing me. Yet they were writing about me in such accurate detail that it was truly terrifying.  I in no way wanted to be one of those people who I was reading about. Yet I could not keep from going back over and over again to read everything there was about people like me. I had to know the truth even if I was a long way from being able to accept that truth and was very desperate to prove to myself and to those that I imagined could see who I truly was, that I was not like those people I read about.

Really, it was far easier to go out every day and endure the extreme physical punishment I experienced every time I played with the others than to face up to and accept the reality of who I was. The older boys seemed to relish every opportunity to hit me as hard as they could since they couldn’t deliver the same degree of physical punishment to boys their own age and size. The coaches seemed to also relish matching me up against the oldest and biggest team members as well. After all, isn’t that what someone like me deserved for being such an abomination? Perhaps I was hoping they would literally beat the transsexualism out of me. Looking back, I realize what a sad mindset that was for a young child.

It’s really no surprise that the first year playing with them that I broke my nose, had a very painful tailbone injury and in hindsight I recognize that I suffered at least three concussions of one degree or another. Eventually, I had to have cervical spinal surgery due to injuries sustained from helmet to helmet hits which were legal at the time. These are particularly dangerous on kickoffs and kickoff returns.

A culture of hazing existed as well, fostered by tradition and encouraged by the adults who ran our program. Instead of garnering respect for what I did, something that I had desperately hoped for, something that no one my age did until we were all 15 and then only two other classmates (in my third year of playing), participated in, I was the subject of physical, emotional and eventually on one isolated occasion the victim of sexual abuse. Because of the emotional abuse and that one incident of sexual abuse I became convinced that they knew my secret, but in hindsight, I know this not to be true. They were simply abusive and probably were acting out many things that had been perpetrated upon them coming up through the same system. The difference between me and them were that some of them were gifted athletes and I was not. They did not , however, to my present degree of knowledge, harbor a secret that caused them tremendous guilt and shame. I did.

What I was able to accomplish was accomplished through my sheer willpower and determination. I was the only one in my class to play football 6 seasons at my school. I was the only one to earn 4 varsity letters in football and three Junior Varsity letters. I was the only one to start offense and defense during my Sophomore, Junior and Senior seasons and I set two school records at the time in my Senior year for fumble recoveries in a game and in a season. Not being a skill player, I accomplished these things as an undersized offensive and defensive lineman. I accomplished this through having learned to take heavy physical punishment and doling out my own when the opportunity presented itself.  I earned my accomplishments through willpower and desire, not through any athletic talent because I am not talented athletically.

Over the years between that first year and my last season, I had probably suffered 4 or 5 more concussions. Nobody paid attention to that back then and hitting each other helmet to helmet was expected. I injured a shoulder, a knee, broke a finger, and one year experienced such severe staph infections all over my body that they nearly resulted in my hospitalization because I hid the extent of them until the season ended and I missed the next two weeks of school because I was too sick to attend after the season was over. Years later I required surgery to fuse my cervical spine as a consequence of way too many helmet to helmet hits, particularly on kickoffs and kickoff returns. That sort of dangerous contact was legal back then.

Really, it was far easier to go out every day and endure the extreme physical punishment I experienced every time I played with the others than to face up to and accept the reality of who I was. The older boys seemed to relish every opportunity to hit me as hard as they could since they couldn’t deliver the same degree of physical punishment to boys their own age and size. The coaches seemed to also relish matching me up against the oldest and biggest team members as well. After all, isn’t that what someone like me deserved for being such an abomination? Perhaps I was hoping they would literally beat the transsexualism out of me. Looking back, I realize what a sad mindset that was for a young child.

It’s really no surprise that the first year playing with them that I broke my nose, had a very painful tailbone injury and in hindsight I recognize that I suffered at least three concussions of one degree or another.

A culture of hazing existed as well, fostered by tradition and encouraged by the adults who ran our program. Instead of garnering respect for what I did, something that I had desperately hoped for, something that no one my age did until we were all 15 and then only two other classmates (in my third year of playing), participated in, I was the subject of physical, emotional and eventually on one isolated occasion the victim of sexual abuse. Because of the emotional abuse and that one incident of sexual abuse I became convinced that they knew my secret, but in hindsight, I know this not to be true. They were simply abusive and probably were acting out many things that had been perpetrated upon them coming up through the same system. The difference between me and them were that some of them were gifted athletes and I was not. They did not harbor a secret that caused them tremendous guilt and shame. I did.

What I was able to accomplish was accomplished through my sheer willpower and determination. I was the only one in my class to play football 6 seasons at my school. I was the only one to earn 4 varsity letters in football and three Junior Varsity letters. I was the only one to start offense and defense during my Sophomore, Junior and Senior seasons and I set two school records at the time in my Senior year for fumble recoveries in a game and in a season. Not being a skill player, I accomplished these things as an undersized offensive and defensive lineman. I accomplished this through having learned to take heavy physical punishment and doling out my own when the opportunity presented itself.  

Over the years between that first year and my last season, I had probably suffered 4 or 5 more concussions. Nobody paid attention to that back then and hitting each other helmet to helmet was expected. I injured a shoulder, a knee, broke a finger, and one year experienced such severe staph infections all over my body that they nearly resulted in my hospitalization because I hid the extent of them until the season ended and I missed the next two weeks of school because I was too sick to attend after the season was over.

Over these six years, I continued to read every professional book that came out on transsexualism. By the time I was in my last season of playing I had lost the enthusiasm for trying to hide by playing football. I didn’t show up for summer practice, preferring to work at my job at the hospital as a nursing aide. I questioned why I bothered playing at all at that point. I simply didn’t care. It was clear to me that I was not like the others

either at the most fundamental level. Football is a game for men and I was never a man. I was a woman. I just couldn’t accept that fact at that time, though I knew it to be true. The only reason I continued to play was to finish what I started. I knew I didn’t have the talent or physical size to play at the collegiate level, though I tried to convince myself otherwise and spoke with several Division III coaches of schools I was considering attending. None of them encouraged me.

Looking back, I am glad that I had the experience of playing football and enduring what I did. I learned to take beating after beating. Sometimes I wonder how I got back up each time after each one, but I know that learning to endure and survive that experience year after year gave me the internal strength and fortitude to be able to finally come to terms with myself and go through a gender transition. Not many people who grew up in the times that I did have been able to do that. Gender transition is probably one of the hardest human experiences one can undergo. Many of the things I learned about myself back then and the willingness to endure what I willingly endured gave me the strength to do what I had to do to live my life authentically. The tolerance to pain, both physical and emotional in nature gave me the courage and emotional resiliency to undergo my gender transition. I paid it forward. It was worth the price.

on my team. I could never be. It wasn’t my fault, and it wasn’t really their fault

either at the most fundamental level. Football is a game for men and I was never a man. I was a woman. I just couldn’t accept that fact at that time, though I knew it to be true. The only reason I continued to play was to finish what I started. I knew I didn’t have the talent or physical size to play at the collegiate level, though I tried to convince myself otherwise and spoke with several Division III coaches of schools I was considering attending. None of them encouraged me. This time I decided to listen.

Looking back, I am glad that I had the experience of playing football and enduring what I did. I learned to take beating after beating. Sometimes I wonder how I got back up each time after each one, but I know that learning to endure and survive that experience year after year gave me the internal strength and fortitude to be able to finally come to terms with myself and go through a gender transition. Not many people who grew up in the times that I did have been able to do that. Gender transition is probably one of the hardest human experiences one can undergo. Many of the things I learned about myself back then and the willingness to endure what I willingly endured gave me the strength to do what I had to do to live my life authentically. The tolerance to pain, both physical and emotional in nature gave me the courage and emotional resiliency to undergo my gender transition. I paid it forward. It was worth the price.

Trans Conventions: Why Should You Go to One?

Each year, there are opportunities to attend one or more trans conferences around the country. As time has gone by, there are more and more conferences available to attend regionally, providing opportunities to learn more about ourselves, meet people like ourselves, have fun and find out about options for medical and aesthetic care. At some conventions there are also continuing education tracks available to educate professionals such as myself. We are taking the responsibility for finding professionals who can educate other professionals who are interested in helping us and providing these important opportunities. I have both given workshops to other professionals and received a substantial amount of continuing education over the past two years. That has allowed me to solely focus on studying sanctioned curricula by my profession and teach to other professionals. Because of these opportunities, I have completed 73 hours of continuing education in the last two years on top of the self directed studies that I have been engaging in over the past 16 years. That is equivalent to 4.5 semester hours in a graduate program.



Since 2009, I have been attending conferences to offer workshops on the history of mental health treatment of transsexualism and what is the present state of the art in transgender care. I do my best to provide education to other professionals and seek out the best education opportunities that I can find, as well as unravel the misconceptions about the WPATH Standard of Care, and myths that abound in the gender community to the members of our community.

I have not been to all the conferences available to go to, but have been going to Southern Comfort Conference each year. Southern Comfort is the largest conference I have attended and is one of the longest running and largest conferences in the U.S. This year will be my fourth time presenting a workshop there. This conference is the most dear to me because Southern Comfort gave me my first opportunity to present a workshop on my area of specialization.



 I have given a workshop at the Trans Philadelphia Health Conference, which is the largest health conference in the world on the topic of transgender care and last year chaired the mental health workshop selection committee for this conference. I have also attended the Keystone Conference in Harrisburg, Pa., TransOhio Conference in Columbus, and Chicago Be- All and I have to say, I have enjoyed them all. Besides the opportunity to give or get these educational opportunities, I have treasured the friendships I have made at the conferences and the opportunity to spend time with many wonderful friends that I have across the nation thanks to the Internet and through the past four years that I have been a member of Pink Essence. I attended five conferences last year.

What can you expect at these conferences? Be prepared to meet all sorts of people from every walk of life and from all over the U.S. It is not unusual to meet people from all over the U.S.



You will have an opportunity to attend workshops on various topics that include counseling, etiquette, how to move in a feminine manner, fashion styling, medical health issues such as hormone regimens, aesthetic and gender reassignment surgeries, voice therapy, how to transition at work, improving family and spousal relationships, sexuality, spirituality, substance abuse, laser and electrolysis hair removal, legal issues in identity management, advocacy and participating in the legislative process. There are many more topics too. If you are a female to male transperson, there are plenty of topics for you too!

Just as importantly there is time for FUN!! Usually there will be organized activities and excursions to see local points of interest, to shop, and get pampered in salons.



The conferences provide special attention to first time attendees, so they will not feel frightened. For some, this will be the first time she will have had to be in public and this can be very overwhelming. Some conferences will offer a "big sister or big brother" to help first time attendees. There are sad stories about people coming for their first time who were too afraid to even come out of their room and hid the whole time they were there. Often there are 12 step meetings available for our recovering brothers and sisters.

An illustration of the important role conferences play in some of our lives can be seen frequently on the last night. You will see many people who stay up all night that last night with friends who they wont get to see for another year. Most poignant is watching those who are sad that they will not have an opportunity to express who they truly are for another full year. They look so forlorn, it is heartbreaking. That is exactly how important these conferences are.

If for no other reason, this is an opportunity to learn more about yourself and sometimes you will learn a little bit about other people, different from yourself, but in some ways the same.

I hope to see those of you who I have met and meet many of you I have only met through the Internet this year!

Are You a Sissy?

Are you a sissy? That is a very loaded question and an emotionally charged topic as well in the world of transgender identies and trans politics. It is an issue that sharply divides those who identify as transsexuals from the rest of the gender community and also can divide the rest of the transgender community from those who identify as sissies. I hope that this article will shed some light on this gender identity in a respectful manner. I believe that while I can't relate to these individuals from my own experience, there are people who identify as sissies and have the right to do so.

So what am I talking about here when I speak of sissies? I'm speaking of those people who usually identify as male, but enjoy dressing and appearing as little girls or in a hyperfeminine way that a woman would not appear. There is no way these individuals are going to pass in public, which is part of the piquancy. A google image search of "Sissy" turns up a lot of pictures of Sissy Spacek. She is an awesome actress.

 But pertaining to the topic at hand, the images retrieved are all closely related to female domination, humiliation and other D&S themes. Again, that's fine. I think however they express their sexuality and identity is not my business and everyone has the right to be who they are.

Two years ago, I met a pair of sissies at a transgender conference. They stood out in a convention of people whose identity is that of women with no qualifiers attached to that identity and who are doing everything they can do to blend in with society. In talking with them, I found them to be very nice people.  They told me they weren't really enjoying the conference because no one was being especially friendly or attempting to be inclusive in the activities that were going on in the hotel. I doubt that I will see them again at the conference I was attending.

But I couldn't relate to the experience of a sissy identity in the everyday world. I worry about how the public percieves the woman of transsexual experience and if the public sees me and those who identify as sissies as being one and the same. While there is an intersection on the axis of gender identity, just as there is an intersection in the mathmatical model of the X and Y axis, for me, sexuality is not an issue. For the sissy, sexuality is up front and integral to the sissy experience. It includes strong elements of being shamed and being degraded by others. It is an identity that is less than the genetic woman and definately less than a man.

I wonder if this is for most who identify as a sissy a developmental stage in forming a transsexual identity or is it a stable identity of its own? Some women of transsexual experience at some point experience some attraction to the fantasy of forced feminization, usually early on in their life when they are coming to terms with who they are. For them, this is about not being able to take responsibility for who they are and at a point when they feel ashamed of who they are. If it does occur, it is a transient event that fades to black and disappears. It goes away when the woman of transsexual experience knows that there is nothing wrong with her identity as a woman. As a result, feelings of shame and guilt have no place in her identity. Simply put, for the woman of transsexual experience who is comfortable with her identity, the old addage "You can't rape the willing" is true. She sees herself as no different than the woman who was assigned at birth as a female and is comfortable living her life in mainstream society. This is the basis for women (and men) of transsexual experience not viewing themselves as part of the transgender spectrum, but understanding themselves to be very different and not part of a spectrum of gender identities.

Just as sissies have the right to claim their identity, so do women of transsexual experience. We also have the right to claim our own identity as unique and not part of a spectrum. We have the right to our own uniqueness.

I'd be very interested in hearing the views of readers of this blog. I think this is a topic worthy of discussion and reading your comments.

But Enough About Us, Sherri! How About You?

Well my dears, I've had a lot of things to talk about lately, but I haven't been sharing about what I'm doing and what's going on in my life. It's time to catch up!

It's been a rollercoaster in some ways, I have been involved more with my mother and father since my father's heart attack in the beginning of May. We were told that he likely would not live more than six months and more likely two months due to the extent of his decline over all from old age and the failing of several organ systems. He has been ill for years and never recovered from his heart valve replacement which resulted in vascular dementia due to having some strokes during the operation. Because of this, I  have been grieving him for years as I watched him decline and was quite prepared for this perhaps being his last illness. That has been a rollercoaster in that it appeared he was near the end and since then he has rallied, to all of our surprise and it appears possible that he may be able to return home in a month or so. That is where the emotional ride gets bumpy for me as I become more hopeful that he will get better and be more active when he comes home, rather than slide back into his decline. It seems that perhaps being in the nursing home rehabilitation unit has given him much better care than he was getting at home with Mom. I have been making comments to my mother about how well he is doing and that he should stay there until he has gotten the full benefit of his rehabilitation potential, or at least until I return from vacation in mid July. My mother is in significant denial of his health problems and particularly of his dementia. One of the big problems for someone with dementia is apathy and she see's this as his being petulant or wanting to be catered to, which is not the case. He simply has no volition to engage in anything active and the structure of the rehabilitation unit pushes him to be active. As a result, he is more active than I have seen him in the past year. He is appetite is much improved and he is beginning to walk again when he wouldn't move out of his chair at home. I hate to have to say this but I think both he and my mother will both live longer if he stays there permanently. They tend to feed off each other and they both seem highly anxious together. Mom seems to have benefitted with him being away and being under less stress. she is more relaxed and more pleasant.

All of this has taken my full attention and much of my energy.  I have to help Mom more with her home and visit with him, which I don't do enough because after a full day of doing therapy, I have little energy to visit during the week. I do a fairly good job of keeping healthy boundaries and taking care of myself. I do enjoy mowing, being out in the sun and this is my time to meditate, enjoy the sunshine, watch wild life and pray.

What is frustrating about this situation, is it has slowed down my coming out at work, which is the most major task left to accomplish before I can transition there. My therapist Dana, who has helped me so much with managing a lot  the coming out process. She suggests that I start applying for jobs as myself and if I get a job offer then I have a bargaining chip in case the hospital decides they no longer require my services. I think this makes sense. I would like to stay at the hospital, I've been there almost 11 years and have 14 to go so I can have a 25 year pension there. I would also not wish to lose my transsexual patients. I want to be able to continue to coordinate and build upon the comprehensive health program I developed. It would be a loss for me. But it would allow me to live as who I am in that aspect of my life. That is important to me. A lot of my friends will be frustrated to see me throw up a road block delaying my journey. I do have to think about Patty who is unable to work due to disability. I bring home a majority of the income and provide the health care insurance, so it is important to me that I take care of her as best I can. We have huge medical bills.

Of lesser concern is the ongoing and growing realization that there will be a low likelihood of any kind of stealth while I live in this area for a variety of reasons. Not long ago I was introduced to a retired therapist who knew me as a male and is good friends with my department head. That was very uncomfortable to me at the time and I am concerned that my work situation could turn into another coming out at a time and on a field not of my choosing.

Interestingly, (to me anyway) was the fact that last weekend my High School had a reunion of multiple classes with many people with who I went to school. I had absolutely no desire to attend. There are only three people I care to keep up with, three women from my class. The experience of high school was very painful to me as I suffered years of physical and emotional abuse there and no one intervened to stop it, though it was quite visible in such a small school. It has taken years of therapy to deal with it. Therapy helps; I have nowhere near the guilt, shame and anger that I carried for years, nor do I suffer to the extent I have with the severe depression I've had over the past five years.

I was quite interested in the idea of going to one of the events held in a restaurant as myself so I could watch the dynamics and not have them see me. Then I decided they weren't worth it. I would most likely become angry/ sad/ depressed over thinking about what happened to me, so it would serve no good purpose for me.

Looking at the pictures posted on Facebook from the reunion, it dawned on me that if I had gone, it could have been a disaster. It turns out that one of the people from school who was a year or two behind me also goes to my church and is a member of the Vestry (that is a Deacon, for those of us with a Southern Baptist heritage). He knows me now as Sherri and not as who I was. If I had gone, he likely would have recognized me from church and then I would again be in a situation of coming out at a time and a field not of my choosing again and I find that very wearing, as I have written about in the past here.

Soon I do intend to let my three women friends know about me soon and I expect that at that point it will work its way around the alumni of my High School, and that will be ok. The difference being that I told who I wanted to tell who matter to me and if at that point, the rest of them find out, I don't care really.

What I don't like about the situation is my lack of the right to privacy, which we refer to as stealth. I become more and more aware that stealth for me at my age and situation is mostly not going to be. So I have been readjusting my thinking about how important is stealth in my life. After all, even if people do know about who I was, is it really a problem if I am treated as a woman and people interact with me as the woman I am? Is it realistic for me to expect any more given my dual professional identity and my presence in the community I grew up? I think that the expectation of my having a lifw where no one knows of my male past is unrealistic. It sets me up for feeling bad about myself, rather than enjoying the life I should have taken responsibility to have made happen literally decades ago.

The obverse of that coin is that I can't afford to dwell on the "wasted" years. Really? Wasted? No, not really. I have accomplished a lot, both personally and professionally. Rather, it is much better to be living in the moment of now, which is a much happier time in my life and look towards the future in which I will be who I always was, but hid so well.

So what about the man at church I know who went to school with me all those years ago? I think it is time to tell him. That will be good thing, I'm sure.

Further Along the Long and Winding Road

                                                                                       

 Recently, I have had a few unfortunate personal circumstances and these have been needing my full attention.  As a result, I have not posted as frequently in the last few months. I have two other articles I have been working on for this blog. I also have not been working on a text for clinicians that I am writing. It's about providing care for transgender patients from the perspective of a transsexual who is also a well seasoned psychotherapist.

That is ok, it will get done in the future and it won't disappear. I have too many things happening to worry about things that will take care of themselves. I do have a strong desire to continue these projects.

I spoke to my own therapist today and we mainly spoke about the present unhappy circumstance. That's an external issue. I also have had my desire to speak to my supervisor put on the back burner because of the last three months of what has been going on. Today I had a very unusual conversation with two of my female coworkers who included me as another woman and not as a male. It could not have been as a female teasing a male. It was a simple female to female conversation about a subject of feminine interest. I simply answered honestly and felt quite comfortable.

However, this does seem to make informing my supervisor imperative considering another development. I had a second encounter with another professional in my field who knows my male presentation professionally. I reintroduced myself (for the very first time) as my female true self. It was evident that he recognized me. Turns out he calls my supervisor from time to time as they are friends. I would rather be able to present this information to her first.

In any event, I'm feeling close to being ready and when I feel the time is right I will set up that appointment. I do want to process it a bit with my therapist and have wanted to for about 8 weeks, these things keep getting in the way darn it!

Hopefully I will get a chance to talk to my therapist to fine tune my game plan next week and the nest couple sessions and then go forward with speaking with my supervisor. She is a fair minded person and has always been my best supporter of transgender care at the hospital. I'm very proud of my front office staff coworkers (two of who were having that conversation with me today). They are always especially kind to my transgender patients, NEVER make mistakes with names and NEVER mix up the pronouns. How cool is that?!

In any event, I am close to the tipping point with my employer and feel ready. Just please please please let me get through the external tough things going on, so I can get this accomplished

Virginia makes it easier to "Let Mama Drive" (from Trailer Bride's song of the same name)

On April 24th 2012 a new regulation to protect our freedoms as transsexuals went into effect. The Commonwealth of Virginia has simplified  the process of getting your gender marker changed on your drivers license to reflect your gender identity. In a landmark policy change, the Commonweath of Virginia has amended it's regulation so that an individual may have their gender marker changed to reflect one's gender identity without regard to a time frame when one anticipates having a surgical procedure. Indeed, one may not even be on Hormonal Reassigment chemotherapy to qualify to have her gender marker changed. Prior to the enactment of the new regulation, one had to be within 18 months of a planned surgery.
This new regulation has untold value for us and is such a leap forward for the Commonwealth of Virginia in becoming one of the states with cutting edge policy in protecting Transsexuals' rights on Aril 24th 2012. It is a powerful tool to ensure our rights are protected just as anyone else enjoys as a citizen of the Commonweath. It opens up a tremendous number of opportunities for us if we are
willing to experience new challenges. No longer will be we subject  to discrimination for using the appropriate bathroom publicly. Your identification supports your use of the appropriate bathroom legally. It also is a passport to a new job or career, or simply going back to school.

Here is the release that I got yesterday from the Virginia Trans Health Initiative, another agency of the Commonwealth. It has the link to get the Commonwealth of Virginia Department of Motor Vehicles to obtain the proper form.

"Virginia embraces a SIMPLE mechanism for changing one’s gender marker on a driver’s license. As of April 25, 2012, the Virginia Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) implemented a new, and much simpler, policy for changing one’s gender marker on a VA driver’s license.  Individuals can now use the Gender Change Request form, known as DL-17, which requires only a signature from a licensed provider, including a doctor, psychiatrist, nurse practitioner, social worker, or counselor attesting to the fact that the applicant is a patient of the provider and that the applicant’s “gender identity” is either female or male and “can reasonably be expected to continue as such for the foreseeable future.”  The form does not require proof of surgery or even proof that the applicant is engaged in hormone therapy.  Link to form:  http://www.dmv.state.va.us/webdoc/pdf/dl17.pdf 

Until now, the VA DMV policy required proof of sexual reassignment surgery (SRS) evidenced by a letter from a surgeon or a court order recognizing a gender change.  In most states, such a court order depends on proof of SRS.  This requirement made it very difficult for many individuals to obtain a VA identification card accurately reflecting their gender."

We are living in a time where we women of transsexual experience are being allowed to take our place in society on an equal level. It is early, things are not perfect, but we should also rejoice in the progress as we gather ourselves to identify the next significant human rights advance to be confronted.

HAPPY MOTORING!!                                               

Transitioning, Passing and Stealth

Most of us have thought at one time or another that when we transitioned we could live in stealth, living our lives without others knowing of our transgender past. When I was in second grade, I had a fantasy after reading The Box Car Children that I would run away to another town where no one knew me.  The Box Car Children had lost their parents and had been in an orphanage. They learned that they were going to go live with their grandfather who they had erroneously decided was a mean old man who didn't care about them. So they ran away and found a railroad box car on an abandoned spur off a railroad track in the woods that they came across in their travels. This turned out to become a wonderful home for them! They fixed it up nicely so that it was homey and comfy. There was a creek close by that they dammed up and had a nice place to play and swim. And of course, they went to school and had everything they needed. Eventually, their grandfather did arrive on the scene and turned out to be kind and loving, so they went to live with him. If I remember correctly, he was pretty wealthy too. He had the box car moved to his home so they would have that forever.

 I decided this was a pretty good plan for me to become the girl I knew myself to be! I would live in a cave and go to school as the girl I really was! PERFECT!! (Only I hadn't thought about where I was going to get an adult to enroll me in this new school in this new town, or buy me all these new clothes, and I wasn't particularly mindful about where my meals would come from or who would take care of me when I got sick or was afraid, or had a nightmare.....).

I thought that when I finally would run away, I would have all the clothes I could want or need to be the perfect little girl! To that end, I poured over the Sears and J.C. Penney catalogues looking at the clothes a 2nd grade or 3rd grade girl would wear and picked out the pretty dresses I liked. I would draw pictures of pretty girls wearing the clothes in the catalogue with my colored pencils. I wonder if my mama ever saw those pictures that I drew? I was careful when I did this that she was elsewhere in the house doing mama things while I was doing Michelle things. That was my first name I picked for myself and that was the name my BFF Christina Lang knew me as when she met me in an IRC chat room in either 1996 or 1997. At some point I decided that Michelle was way too close to my male name and really didn't reflect my personality anyway! Thus, Sherri Lynne was born (already all grown up)!

I don't know why I never ran away but I guess as I got a bit older, I realized that there was no way I could, as a child, make this plan work. I mean, really, how was I going to afford ALLLL those clothes?? I didn't get more than about a quarter a week allowance back in the day (NO, I'm STILL not going to tell you how old I am!!). Even into my adolescence and young adulthood, I held out the thought I would finish college and transition, go to graduate school and transition, graduate from graduate school and disappear as I transitioned. In those days there were no resources available where I lived or where I eventually moved to in order to accomplish this thing I wanted so badly, so it never happened. I knew there were others like me. By this time I had read literally dozens of books and hundreds of journal articles, but where could I find the help I needed within a reasonable distance? I couldn't. I knew that if I did move somewhere where no one knew me that I would have to break off my relationship with my family to accomplish becoming the person on the outside that I was on the inside. I would disappear and my friends would never know what happened to me. I would start life all over again and that this would be the price to be paid in order to live my life in stealth.

So for one reason (or was it an excuse?) and another and another, I chose not to transition until three years ago. As time goes on, my transition picks up the pace. I've come to the realization over this period of time that there is no perfect stealth for the vast majority of us. I'm sure some people have been able to establish perfect stealth, but I think they are far and few between. Given that we are such rare people to begin with according to best estimates, the numbers of us who have achieved perfect stealth are even infinitely rarer.

For instance, if I were to achieve perfect stealth, I would have to lose all of the following things: my family; all my present friends; my career; my home; my community; ties to the college and universities I attended. In other words, I would have to move somewhere where I have never been, have no contact with those I left behind, and likely give up a career in which I have been very successful in and not be able to claim all the years of experience that I have in my career. That would be a very steep price to pay for a chance at something that might be successful for a while, but I would always be looking over my shoulder in fear that I would run into someone who knew my past or knew someone I knew who had a story about someone they knew who...  You understand what I'm saying here. Is it farfetched that it could happen after all that sacrifice?

Consider this experience I had one time. I was flying back from Kansas City after taking part in a substance abuse treatment conference. The first interesting thing was that Richard Petty of NASCAR fame was on the same plane, but then something even more amazing occurred. The flight was bound for Charlotte where I had to make a connection. I became engaged in a conversation with a man from Florida seated next to me. He had been out west on a business trip and was on his way home, also changing planes in Charlotte. We got to talking and I told him I was on my way to Charlottesville. He told me that he grew up there and of course my curiosity was piqued. I asked him where he went to elementary school as I had gone to school there and it turned out that not only had he gone to the same school, we were in the same class in first and second grade, were playmates, and later were in Scouts together. Small world, huh? That's an example of why I don't think perfect stealth will ever be an option for most of us and certainly not for me.

Rather, I think that stealth exists in degrees or like layers of an onion. There will be people who will always know that you once lived in a different gender you are today. I wonder if any of them can really see me as a woman and not quickly think of the person I used to be in my former gender. My guess is that at some times that will happen and others they will remember who I used to be. That isn't my ideal, but I can accept that reality, as long as I am treated with dignity and respect and as the woman I am. I think the younger a person transitions, the degrees of stealth increase. My reasoning on this is that there is much more life to be lived and many more new people coming into one's life who never knew the young person in a differently gendered life.

 For some people this will be important to them, for others not at all. When I think of those who it is unimportant to, I think of those folks who identify themselves as "gender queer". Perhaps it is a function of the times I grew up in, but I can't relate to that identity, personally. I have always had a clear identity as being female, and view my male body as a birth defect. I don't loathe the body I was born in as the stereotype of transsexuals that exists, I just have always known it wasn't the one I was supposed to have.

It would be really difficult to continue in my chosen profession if I were to disavow my past professional life in order to live in stealth. I have too many years in my profession, too many accomplishments that I would have to leave behind, and with that decision the prospect for a job that is commensurate with my knowledge skills and abilities and with my salary requirements would all but be impossible to obtain. I wouldn't have any references and wouldn't be able to list prior work experiences because the person I am interviewing with may possibly know another professional I used to work with. Any google of my name would also lead to my prior identity because of the types of psychotherapy I practice as well as my true identity. Instantly, my illusion of stealth would be shattered. For most of us in the age of the internet, stealth is becoming more and more of an illusion.

When one considers stealth and what it means, we are often talking about our transition and passing. In the first few years before I seriously considered transitioning, I did go out as myself, with generally unhappy outcomes. Though I dressed nicely, I didn't pass. So at that time, stealth wasn't even on the table as something possible. I would catch funny looks out of the corner of my eye or people frankly staring and that was really painful for me, to feel that something that seemed so right to me, made me at best a curiosity and at worst the target of derision or being seen as a freak.

Eventually though, with enough experience in being out and about, and as the hormones changed the way I looked, the way I carried myself publicly, and the more comfortable I became in social interactions, people stopped staring and I became able to go about my business and became comfortable interacting with people, I realized that I was "passing", even in situations with close contact, such as shopping in the Bare Escentuals store for makeup or dining out by myself or with my friends. Even in the most difficult tests of all, being in proximity with teenage girls (notorious for being able to scope us out) and in the ladies room.

Now if it is the case that I am passing well, then I have accomplished a level of stealth that in many ways is the only stealth most of us will ever experience. Even if I am being read as a transsexual woman, the fact that I am being treated with dignity and respect as a woman is really all that is necessary for me to live my life in a manner that allows me to be who I am.

I also have a new church that is welcoming to transgender people, though to my knowledge I am their only trans woman. I don't mind it because they have all been so nice to me, made me feel at home and wanted as part of the congregation. They treat me as a woman and I don't have to think about being a trans woman at this point there which is always a nice way to live. I've spent way more time than I ever wanted to thinking about my gender as it is.

To continue to work in my career at the same health care system, means that there will be no stealth for me whatsoever, as I interact with nearly every clinical service that is available there. However, the important thing to me, again, is that I be treated respectfully and with dignity. To me it’s that people get the name and the pronouns right when they speak to me or about me. I certainly have no thought " they won't know". Indeed, it is the colleagues closest to me where I work who will have the most difficult time with the transition. Patience on my part will be required as they will not get it right 100% of the time in the beginning. As long as they are making the effort to try to get it right and are improving, then I can roll with it during the learning curve.

 I would hope that new professionals who join us as others leave will only know me as a woman. I also know that it would be unusual if there weren't one or two who know me and said to the new coworker, "Yeah, and you won't believe this but Sherri used to be a guy!!" Such is human nature. I'm sure in most cases it wouldn't be meant maliciously either, knowing the people I work with. I wouldn't be happy if it occurred, but in the grand scheme of things I could handle it. I would be assertive in asking the person involved not to do that again. I think I know my coworkers well enough that if that were the case they would stop after being asked.

Dealing with family is an entirely different subject. It is my hope when I engage a patient for therapy who is transgendered if problems within the family system over a family member's transgender status develop that I have an opportunity to intervene. My hope would be to prevent people becoming estranged with their family of origin. I'm almost certain that almost no family member will ever think of their relative other than their birth gender, even if they are loved and accepting of that relative. It's almost impossible to forget all that shared history. But it is possible to accept and embrace their relative. More and more often, even if there is a period of estrangement, families are staying close to their transitioned family member. The bonds of family are very strong. Even in the cases I've worked with where children are abused or neglected, they more often do remain close to their families, even after having been removed and placed into foster care until the age of majority.

I think that in more public situations is where stealth exists and perhaps in business situations when dealing with other businesses and perhaps even in the place of employment if different from the place of employment where one transitions. As relationships become closer, the degrees of stealth diminish. Is that necessarily a bad thing? I think not. I want the people who are closest to me to really know me for who I am. Even this most painful part of my life (my prior male existence) after my transition is complete. After transition, I believe that I will simply see myself as a woman; being in a "trans" state will be over. I could very well be wrong about that though.  This is not to say I think that when my transition is complete I have arrived at the destination. Life is a voyage, a journey. The arrival is when we reach the end of our time here and go on to what’s next. I'm rather thankful that life is that way too.