Nerves of Steel…or not.

Ok, I get it. Internal conflict is a natural part of this process. The self-doubt, denial and down right stupidity. I remember it when I first realized I was attracted to women, even worse when I started feeling like I needed to tell people. So I’ve sort of vaguely spoken to my sister-in-law (and as a result my older brother) about everything I’ve been feeling. When I did, I told her I was frustrated with my gender identity and that I wasn’t sure what I’d planned on doing about it. While not totally untrue, I also don’t feel like it fully reflects my feelings and current thoughts. End result? I’m frustrated with myself.

She was supportive. She assured me that they, and their kids, would love me know matter what. I know it’s true from them, and yet somehow I couldn’t muster the courage to really talk to her about it. I’m having trouble really talking to my closest friends about it (fiancee aside) and I’m losing hope in my ability to talk to my younger brother this week while I’m down visiting him. I know I just need to bite the bullet, but that’s easier said than done.

On a plus side, fiancee and I ordered our save the dates the other day, so I’ll call that a win.

Until Next Time,

Ty

Medical Mumbo-Jumbo

So whether we like it or not, if we plan to make any kind of physical transition, we will eventually have to deal with medical professionals. I mean, sure, we can change our clothes, cut our hair and the like without medical intervention, but more than that will require a doctor, a pharmacy or a surgeon. I’ve worked in the medical industry (pharmacy specifically) for the last 15 years. I’m no expert on information outside of pharmacy, but I do consider myself fairly knowledgeable about health, fitness and medicine. So I wasn’t entirely surprised to find that we have a diagnosis.

Continue reading Medical Mumbo-Jumbo

I’m Not Alone, and Neither are You

Thanksgiving is coming a little early for me today….

So I went into this whole blogging thing a little naive. I knew there was a pretty active gay community online. I assumed this had to extend to the trans community as well. I haven’t told anyone about my blog, not because I don’t think they’d be supportive, but because I felt like i needed a space to think out loud, find people like me, and figure out who and what I am on my own terms.

So after a few posts, and a few followers, and some serious digging through blogs last night, I had the fantastic realization that there are way more people than just me that struggled with, are struggling with, or have worked through this weird place that I’m in right now. Most striking to me was the realization that there are others who don’t want to be female, but aren’t totally sold on being male either.

It’s nice to feel like I’ve finally found a place to work through my issues a little and even better to know that I’m not totally alone. So for those of you who’ve shared pieces of your life for total strangers to read on the Internet, thanks. For what it’s worth, you’ve made this stranger feel a whole lot less strange.

Until next time,
Ty

Labels and the World Than Makes Me Use Them

I hate labels. I have having to think of myself as male or female, cis or trans, gay or straight…. and all for the sake of people that aren’t me needing to identify me properly.

Why do I need to narrow myself down to a bisexual trans boy just because I’m not sure that others will feel comfortable otherwise. Continue reading Labels and the World Than Makes Me Use Them

Step One: A Weight off my Shoulders

So if you read the about page, you noticed several references to me being a long-haired girl. I’ve had long hair as far back as I can remember, save a small incident before picture day junior year of high school. And I mean LONG hair, like down to the small of my back.

It’s always been fairly thin and goes up into a bun or short pony tail well and most people didn’t even realize how long my hair was. That pony tail would hide well under a hat, or nuzzle itself into the hood of a hoodie and even with long hair, I would occasionally be mistaken for a boy. For the record, I’m 6’0″ tall, 218lbs. I’m physically built like a boy. Broad shoulders, narrow hips, huge hands.

Continue reading Step One: A Weight off my Shoulders