How I Knew I Should Transition
I was living entirely as Dave - father, husband, small business
owner, and free-lance writer/director/editor in the film business. I had
been married for thirteen years to Mary, with a ten-year-old son, and a
six-year-old daughter. My family life was good, my career growing, my
future bright, but still something was missing.
I had first felt "different" in kindergarten, where all the
other little boys seemed to know instinctively how to act, but I had to
struggle to learn the male role by rote: it did not come naturally. I
never considered the possibility I had the instincts of a female; I
simply thought I had none at all.
By age seven, I was regularly sneaking off to dress in the girls'
clothes my mother brought in as part of her short-lived ironing
business. This was well before puberty and was not an erotic experience,
but rather a feeling of completeness and contentment.
Throughout my teenage years, the need to dress as a female came and went
in waves, sometimes intense, sometimes absent for years at a time.
I was non-aggressive in school, both in sports and dating, and excelled
at neither. My only erotic interests were not in what I could do to or
with a woman, but what it would be like to be one.
I married as a virgin in 1976, and the longings to be female vanished
more than they were there. But, gradually, as I progressed through adult
life, the waves became stronger and more frequent. Only twice in my life
(both times in my early teen years) had I ventured out as a female, both
with such tension from fear of discovery, that I did not attempt this
again until three years before this journal began.
Suddenly, the need to move in society as a woman became overwhelming,
and within two months, I had made nearly a dozen outings, tentative at
first, then growing more bold as I gained confidence in my ability to
"pass" without being "read".
Throughout this period, I was constantly "purging" myself of
this "awful" desire. Full of guilt I would throw away all my
pills, wigs, clothes, and any other accumulations, only to be driven to
rebuild my accouterments scant days later.
Finally, I came to the decision that this secret side, if not dealt with
openly, would lead to self-destruction and the loss of not only my
self-respect, but the love of those I loved. So, at the end of July
1989, I mustered the courage to call a gender "hotline" and
get a referral to a doctor who provided hormone therapy to transsexuals.
This Diary begins with my preparations for that appointment.
From my Transition diary
Copyright Transgender Support Site