Friday, May 20, 2016

Desire for a certain thing to happen while becoming boyant

Lots of things are happening this week/weekend. My Mother and Stepdad are both in town visiting us. They are bringing Martin a car, his first! It was a family car that has been passed around for about 15 years, but it's in excellent condition and once he is ready to move on to another car, we give it back to the family for the next teenager. It's a thing we do with furniture as well. Lots of antiques are passed around the family for any to use. We are odd, I know. My mom just went through a chemo treatment before coming here, so she is weak and I wish she had waited to come so that she isn't feeling horrible. The traveling alone is enough to sap her strength. But her will is strong and she doesn't like to be told what to do. I cried when she and my step- (tell you what, just going to say "dad" from now on, it's just odd saying stepdad) when she and my dad left to go back to their hotel room. She is so weak and frail now. She is such a strong person, but her body is just not having it. She is the center of our family, and she didn't ask for it, she earned every bit of it. She is giving and kind, strict and bull-headed, she is a leader and not a follower. She would have made a great general, and she is the general of this family. So, it's hard to see that person deteriorate. Anyway, I'm crying again and it makes it hard to type.

Also, I finally get cable internet access on Monday! Being IT and having to deal with DSL is like, killing my id. So finally I can download porn at a reasonable rate, not that I download porn, you can just browse it. We are all happy, as we all like to watch TV and movies through streaming, and with DSL this is a very extended endeavor.

Our older son, Alex, who as you know has been living with us and not doing anything is finally going to move out to his other grandmothers who lives in south carolina. She thinks we are being to hard on the 22 year old, that he is trying to find a job and not getting so much as a call back because of bad luck or the color orange, or some other nonsense other than he is lazy and needs to have to face real hunger or being uncomfortably homeless. So, she is welcome to him. She will learn and he will continue being disappointing to us. Which is sad and I will start crying again. He doesn't know about me because he isn't mature enough, not his own person enough to handle this without it becoming another reason for him to not engage in life.

Once Alex is out, I plan on telling our daughter about me. I am hopeful that she will take it as a good thing and not a bad. I don't know with her, she has a liberal streak in her that comes from being a cis girl who is beautiful and popular and only having to deal with her friends who are jealous of each other being her friend. Such a hard life she leads. I hope she understands, I hope she still loves me. I don't want to stop being the person she reaches for when she needs a hug or comfort. It's going to be scary for me, and I was in combat. Life doesn't play favorites or fair, I have the body I have and I had no control over it. I hope she sees that. She has already had a tough time dealing with Martin coming out, twice.


Tuesday, May 17, 2016

Remembering my first night out

When I separated from the Air Force, the first thing I did was grow out my hair. I stayed in the small town in California, where I was based, because I had friends there. I always wore my hair pulled back in a pony tail, guy style. And as I said before, I collected womens clothes, left articles from the base laundry rooms, old girlfriends, and what I could buy in stores for my "wife/girlfriend/sister" any excuse I could convincingly give. So I had a pretty respectable but very random wardrobe. In the area I was in a nice fog would roll in late at night during certain times of the year. One, I love fog! Two, I loved being able to dress in what made me feel feminine. So, one night, I put the two together.

I had always worn clothes that made me feel feminine, but it was restricted to inside my room or as a teenager, in my house or yard but only very very close to the door. I was very afraid of being seen, but I wanted to just feel the air on my skin, to for a moment pretend I wasn't in this body. So, this night I stepped out. I was living with my friends, both of who worked nights so they weren't home. The fog had rolled in and the neighborhood was a quite suburb. I put on the sexiest little black dress that my wonderfully sexy ex-girlfriend had left in my closet after a very long New Years Eve party. I put on a pair of fishnet stockings that I had bought for my (enter excuse here) at an adult store. I had to wear a pair of my combat boots, and I borrowed one of my roommates (female) black leather jacket. I tried my best to style my hair, I am sure it was horrible, but I tried to use it to hide the distinct lack of makeup. I did have lipstick, really bad lipstick left behind by same ex-girlfriend, and violently red. So I inexpertly put the lipstick on and teased my hair like I was going to a hair-band concert in New Jersey.  I had a bra, but after finding I could stuff toilet paper directly into the dress and it held up, I decided not to use the bra.

I nervously stepped out of the back door, where I could walk around the yard and ease out into the street light areas. The fog was just thick enough to diffuse the people 5 feet or more away, but not  enough to keep me from knowing exactly where everyone was to keep them far enough away. Perfect. I walked around the neighborhood, only one or two people out and they were in their garages not worrying about the girl walking down the sidewalk. I branched out after a while, walking into the adjacent neighborhood. The fog stayed, cloaking me just enough. I practiced my walk, in combat boots it's not so easy, trying to be sexy without going overboard, swaying my hips just enough.

At one point, a group of boys, younger than me, walked down the street on the other side. It seemed like the road shrank, like I was too close to them. They were talking and laughing as they walked, a few of them did yell my way. I know, yelling "hey baby" is stupid and would never work, but I felt so good hearing it. Pathetic right? I don't care, my heart was racing and I almost ran, but I forced myself to keep walking and I felt great. I didn't encounter anyone else that night, I walked back to my house and wore the dress and stockings to bed. I wanted my dream to have my outfit in it. I felt so good that night and it wasn't until today, reading a post from itsallaboutmylucy about hair, that triggered my memory of that first night out. How could I have ever forgotten that night?

Saturday, May 14, 2016

Days like these

Today is my wife's graduation day. She has been going to a community college for several years now and today is her day. I am very proud of her, I love her and I know she is so very happy and justifiable a bit prideful. There is a graduation ceremony that will last hours, then we are having friends and family over after for a celebration cook-out. Throughout all of this, I will be in hiding. It has never been so pronounced since I came out to her months ago, my need to be who I am and this feeling of disgust every time I have to hide it.

Each morning, when I have to change into my male work clothes or on the weekend when the kids will get up and I have to change, I hate myself for changing. It's like each time is life declaring that I am a man, and that really hits me hard.

Let me be clear, there is no way in hell I am going to ruin her day with my issues. I don't care for groups of people, even those I know well. I'm not going to let that be an issue today either. I am writing on here, not acting out there. I just want to go to her graduation as her wife and enjoy the people at the party as the proud female partner. I'm so sad right now, but I'll swallow it and compartmentalize. It's not ideal, but my life has been a lot of "it is what it is" situations and I don't have a choice but to deal with it.

I know it's the sad-sack thing that makes some of my posts hard to read. Again, this is one side of my life you are seeing. I don't share everything on here, just mostly what pertains to this facet of my life. My life isn't horrible, it's actually pretty good. I am prone to caution and solemnness, so it can seem like I don't enjoy my life. I don't know if I would be a different person had I lived it as a biological woman, I just know I would have been a happier person overall.

Ok, now I am rambling again. I have to go help put up decorations before we go to the ceremony, so I will bid you adieu for now.

Thursday, May 12, 2016

Mother's Day

I don’t often get to be outside in the sun, just being me. This is because I have not come out to two of the children, one of which is an adult. I want to give my daughter some time through puberty and I am dealing with our adult son, who is completely without ambition and with whom we may very well have to kick out of the house. So, last weekend, when I was able to not only be outside in a cute dress and nice hair, but also spend time on the phone with my Mom, it was the closest to joy I can possibly get in this situation.


Since the children always sleep late on the weekends, I felt no pressure to come in and change my clothes or hide who I am. I was up early, at 4:30am and went outside, which was a nice 65 degrees. (I have always been a winter person. In the winter, layers of clothes hide you. But since coming out to my wife, I find that I love the spring/summer now, completely changed my outlook.) So, I sat in one of the chairs on the patio, which is in the middle of the back yard, and just read an ebook. - It’s amazing how something as simple as crossing ones, smoothly shaven legs while balancing a slipper on a toe, can make me feel. I mean truly feel.  There are moments when the feeling of femininity takes away my breath. - Then around 8am, I called my Mom to wish her a happy mother’s day. I haven’t come out to her. I don’t really know how she would take it, years ago she would have been fine, but I am not going to cause her stress or any issues, as she is struggling with stage 4 lung cancer. We had a very nice talk and I got to present as myself while I did it, walking around our property, with the sun streaming down and no fear of being judged. It was a nice day, though it was tempered by my concerns for my mother’s health.


I find myself thinking about that day on an almost constant basis now. How nice it would be if I could just keep my job while coming out and just move on with being full time.


Tuesday, May 3, 2016

Psychological Imperative

We need to be. The choices we have are driven by the need to be who we are. We aren't choosing to be women and then altering ourselves to fit that choice. We are women and we make choices to try to fit our perception of ourselves. Need drives the transgender. Need drives our choices to change. In the hundreds of small unabashed thoughts per day, where you say to yourself, "I wish I was just a girl", you realize there is no real choice. 

I recently was thoroughly disgusted with everything about me, I was just so pissed off at being a man but not being a man at all. I was angry that I had to shave, that I don't smell like I should, that I've got this thing between my legs that marks me. I'm a woman, god damn it. I'm not this man! I was very very angry. I don't know who I was angry with, myself or god or science or the cosmos. I was just angry and upset and I wanted to cry. I did cry and I felt a little better, but not a lot. It took me a while to shake free of the feeling, but I'm not really free. That anger is still there below the surface. Not mad, crazy anger, more of a sad smoldering.

I first started this blog with an idea that I could just be me on the inside like I always have. I compartmentalized my need, pushing it away from my thoughts. Like all issues that are pushed down, eventually they come back up again. I would have bursts of having to be who I am, of hating myself for needing to be a woman. I hated myself for not just being a normal guy and being happy in that role. Of course that didn't work out at all. It isn't about "wants" or "feelings", it falls down to "need". The inevitable, but regrettably late in life, realization that all the things I have done in my life would have been better, had I lived it as the woman I am and not the guy I pretended to be.

I nearly always laugh when I see someone post about how trannies are guys pretending to be girls. First omitting that there are plenty of FtM (they seem to be forgotten in a lot of Transgender articles lately), and second it is completely the other way around for Transgender. Being MtF is a woman pretending to be a man, with a sadly anatomically correct costume.

As I said, I started the blog wanting to just express that I am Trans, that I am who I am. I didn't want to get any surgeries, I didn't want to go through all of it just to be altered into a facade of what I am on the inside. As I went through all of this, reading others posts, reading my own posts again, I realized I didn't write this blog to stay the same. I wrote this because I needed to change, I needed to try anything to be who I truly am on the inside. Even if it is only a facade, a shadow of who I am.

I don't enjoy this, I wish there was something that made me happier about being transgender. I truly only want to be a normal girl with normal problems. It's all about wishes and dreams with me, I know. 

No, I don't think my life would be better if I were physically a woman. I think it would finally be my life if I were physically a woman. Right now, it's (ENTER MALE NAME HERE) life, and not Beth's. I haven't lived my life, my entire life. It's enough, if you bring down the walls of compartmentalizing, to make one want to end it all. I show only what I allow to show, I laugh when it is expected to laugh, I make jokes to mask over inadequacies. I cry only when I can be alone to do so, or with someone I trust to know who I actually am. My life is about not enjoying anything, not to give any part of me away to anyone. So, despite the things I have done, the places I have been, I have not lived my life at all. So it's sad. The need has always been there, to be me. I am only now coming to terms with that. I should have done this long ago. I truly hope that those who are young and transgender start right away, that they get to live as much of their lives as possible instead of pretending to live.

I want ice cream, I want to be comfortably wealthy. I have a psychological imperative to be the woman I am both inside and outside.