What's it feel like anyways?

First I want to apologize to my readers for not posting in a long time. I've slipped back into my fantasy life in the Internet, on games I shall not name. I haven't even been on second life recently so I'm skipping out on both lives, I guess I have no excuse for that.



However my original goal when making this blog was two posts a month so I guess I'm alright.



Anyways instead of focusing on every little trivial detail of my life, I thought I'd try to post something more relevant. I'm going to try to describe what cannot be described. How exactly it feels to be stuck in the body of the wrong sex. People may fantasize about it, thinking it would be fun for a little while, or interesting not really wanting to stay that way, but I guarantee unless you were already feeling this way... there's nothing fun about it at all.

I cannot account for ever gender dysphoric person. I can only offer exactly how it feels for me. Some of this may sound exaggerated but I assure you my goal is to document exactly how I feel before, during, and after the transition, so that I can either prove the positive effects of the transition, or prove myself wrong. None of it is exaggerated.

Its really all day long... The moment I wake up in the morning, I feel the awkward form of my body, and the misery that it means to me. I feel disgusted with myself even on mornings where I'm busy and have plenty to take my mind off the pain. But the real pain hasn't even begun yet.

When I see myself in the mirror I see a deformed girl, rather than a boy. I see a girl with growing facial hair, thick as carpet, and a masculine face. I see a girl's lumbering broad shoulders and a girl's body slowly being covered in hair. I feel gross... disgusting. I've felt this way about my body before I had any understanding of what or who I was. I've honestly looked myself in the mirror and gotten physically nauseated at the sight of myself.

Around people I feel constant pain. There is nothing I can do to escape the reality of my situation. Even if I tell them what I am inside, accepting or not they still see the lumbering hairy male on the outside. Having friends in real life is painful, regardless of how dearly I care for them. All of it involves being the guy, even if they know and tolerate who I am... because I cannot escape from the guy. I have a few exceptional friends who do understand me, but they live far away. Even around them I feel the pain.

Everywhere I go I see reminders, women and men on television capitalizing on the difference between us... If i fit in with men, I feel even less like myself, and so more miserable, if on the other hand I fit in with women, I feel a slight sense of comfort, but I am always always looking for that "proof" of who I am. I spend hours and hours thinking about it to myself trying to justify what I already know to be true. Some people work their whole lives for a title like Doctor or professor... I would just like to be called "She."

However the most debilitating part is when I'm NOT thinking about it. No matter what I always feel it... a sense of disgust, a wrongness... I feel a dull miserable sorrow at all times that never leaves. Its there more than others at times but it's always there to some degree or another.

If this didn't hurt so much that I cannot bear it I wouldn't put my family to so much pain.

I'm sorry I thought I could describe it better than this but in the end, if you believe me you probably already knew... maybe I'm wrong. I hope I can change at least one person's outlook on transsexualism.

None of this is fiction, as much as it may sound like it is. ~Claudia

A Queen for a Day: Reality Check

This is another post thats a bit delayed so a lot of things are clumped up into it. I'll start by talking about my visit back to the clinic on november 15th. I chickened out of wearing my girl jeans but I wore my bracelet that I bought a few nights ago with my friend. When I arrived, I covered it by holding my sweatshirt over it, but when I got to the waiting room, I entered the magical haven again: With a word I am Claudia. Nobody there questions me. One of the nurses referred to me as a "he" by mistake, but remembered to use she all other times, so I wasn't too offended... after all I look like a he. In this place... people respect who I am... as simple as that may sound to some of you reading this... it is truly a dream like to be appreciated as me by total strangers, and friends alike. In real life only trusted friends know who I am, and only a few of those friends really understand it. I don't really take being a girl for granted yet, nor do I know if I ever will. Should I? Maybe the whole point of this nightmare of a life I live... is to know better than to ever take that for granted.

I talked to their therapist... I was honest in how my past experiences with therapists have been... unpleasant at best... but she was very sympathetic, and said she saw me as Sara. She won me over pretty easily... I hate therapists still but I like this woman in particular. Also she was a woman, and younger, maybe not my age, but younger than my first therapist... the reason this helps is because I think age set me apart from the first one I spoke to, and made it difficult to communicate... we were from different generations and different schools of thought. The second one was a man... I have no clue what he was thinking about...

I told her of my consistent worthless questioning. I say worthless because I know I'm past the point of questioning... and that I've known I'm a girl for a long long time now. But I analyze everything I do hysterically in terms of male and female... its a reflex that I force myself into, and it often drives me insane, it hurts so much. My fear is... that having told her this will delay my transition even more...

She told me to stop questioning and to go ahead and be Claudia, advice that is priceless. Friends and my sweetheart have told me the same. I know its pointless when I know the answer is that I am a girl, yet I do it because I doubt... not doubt in my need to transition, or in who I am, but doubts in self esteem. I want to be a girl, therefor I must not be one. I need the self esteem to believe in myself.

I drove home that night holding on to hope as tight as I can... but I can't seem to keep my grip on it for very long. I talked to mom for a bit and she started asking me questions. This time I was certain I wasn't going to let her shake my resolve in believing in myself as Claudia. She said things like she doesn't understand how I can be who I really am by having a fake body. I know she is far from comprehending my suffering but these thigns still hurt.

It was in this... one of many painful conversations that she said something that changed me a little... made me understand HER a little better. She said she didn't know how she is going to live the rest of her life. She started asking me questions about the risks of taking the hormones and crying before I could answer... I realized she needs me to be a boy about as much as I need to be a girl. I feel like I am so selfish... I am taking so much from her... but I can't keep living this way... it just hurts too much. I guess I'm a terrible daughter.

I dont remember when exactly it was I found out I had been outed to my whole family. My uncle I guess was going through some of his own problems, and he ended up blurting it out to everyone behind my back. If I knew what he was going through I wouldn't have told him anything at the time... but apparently my business is everyone elses's and not the other way around. I suspected them but... now I know that many of the comments I thought they HAD to be making in ignorance (IE: boys do this, and you're such a boy because of this) were meant to help close and tape shut the boy box. They have all been talking behind my back about how they do not see it in me and my mom was just thrilled to tell me this finally, that nobody can picture me as a girl.

I'm not looking forward to later today... thanksgiving. I have to pretend to be catholic, pretend to be straight, and pretend to be a boy. I have to pretend even though my existance as claudia is and has been common kmowledge. I have to pretend for their personal happiness at the cost of mine. And I have to pretend to enjoy it. life in general is a chore for me most of the time... It is dreadful to exist in the physical world when I'm being a boy, for everyone else. This chore in particular... however is one of the more tasking ones. I'm not allowed to confront them. So says the great mom, proprieter of my social life... such that it is.

I do love them believe it or not... and I'll forgive them someday for this... but I don't know I'll forget... They are still dear and precious to me, and I do not want to lose them, my Mom my Dad, Grandma and Grandpa, Uncles and Aunts... but I not really look forward to this holiday season with them.

I never finished this post, though reading through it it's about ready to be published. I remember wanting to say, that I wasn't ready to be stared at, and to be looked at as a freak, and that somehow I will have to find the strength within me. Edit and final publish on nov, 20, 2008 day of rememberance

Girl's Night Out

This post is a bit delayed... so there will be extra stuff crammed into it.

I've had so much to say I don't know how to word it.
I went to visit a very dear and supportive friend of mine, one that has been there since the crisis that lead me to coming out as trans, many years before I began this blog. She's been supportive of me since the get-go, but this is only the second time we've gotten to meet in person, due to physical distance.

But I went not just for fun but with a plan on my mind. Call me silly, or whatever you will, but my new years resolution for this year was to buy at least one article of girl clothes for myself... to try to develop the strength to face people looking down on me, and to feel some sense of progress in my lack of a transition. There has been (hopefully) much more progress than expected... but I still wanted to keep this resolution... and I wanted to feel more like me!

I was a nervous wreck the whole day prior to it... I knew I was going to buy girl clothes... and that they were for me... and that I'd probably have to try them on... I tried to remain calm... tried to put it off for the last minute with eating and driving around trying to find a parking space (it was morbidly crowded, which did its job of delaying things but also made me worried I'd end up with an audience)
At the store where I was to try on clothes we were looking at something when the employee there said "hello ladies" before I instinctively turned around and she "corrected" herself. "I'm sorry sir!" "oh it's alright I don't mind hehe" - sigh... you should have gone with your first impression... I was flattered that I pass for a girl at a distance... from behind, in a plus sizes women's clothing store.
When the moment finally arrived I snuck myself into the changing room and my friend waited outside. I tried on a few skirts and some tank tops and an elegant dress... I felt wonderful... and awful at the same time. It felt great to try on girl clothes, and be feminine, but at the same time the ghastly horror that was my slightly hairy (thankfully only slightly) male, hideous body in the mirror, I felt like I was polluting the clothes I tried on. I was frightened with fear... if my friend would walk away to look at more clothes I would shiver on my own, and then eventually try something else on... I think I only tried on a few of the clothes I picked out... I was just too scared to move... My friend was saying something about"she's trying things on" when she was clearly there with a boy... but the lady figured us out, and I guess she smiled at her... I don't know. My friend meant well, but now the lady knows to some extent what I am... or at least what I am doing.
It was a wonderful and horrible experience... the employee that caught on to me, was polite and didn't say anything about my first real cross dressing experience. I bought myself a pair of girls jeans, a tank top, a sweatshirt and a new belt... all of them things I normally wear except for the tank top, but clearly feminine in design. I feel good about my choices... I can't hope to pass for a "real" girl in my current appearance, or even a girl at all... (maybe after a few months of hormones it will be possible... I hope) but with the choices I made I can at least express femininity in my current form, without in my opinion... looking silly by trying to pretend my body is different.
The rest of the day was easier... I bought some necklaces and jewelry, and had a little period of self discovery as I explored my style in things I never got to really try before. I bought nail polish and perfume and other feminine things, other things to make me feel more like a girl right now.

If only I had the courage to use them.

I know that being a girl is not about hair and nails and clothes and make-up. It certainly is about much more than that to me. In my opinion the real difference between men and women is much more subtle. I am foremost myself, and then female. But right now with my body and my family life, and school as a constant provider of negative reinforcement, I need some little ways to express who I am, some ways to FEEL more that I am a girl inside, then simply saying it to myself over and over... And I guess that is why I need to transition, even if there is a risk I'll never pass... to be at peace with myself.

Me and my friend are talking about moving into an apartment together, and she has even extended the offer of staying with her at her parents house while we work on moving out. I have not spoken directly with her parents on the matter, and it doesn't seem certain, but I guess its one more possibility. Things are looking up! My transition is becoming more and more likely every day, and in a lot of ways I'm over joyed...
You'd think I'd be able to take all this positive movement for what it is and not worry about it but... not me.
I can only help but be frightened something bad will happen, or that this is all just a dream... and that reality has it that I will keep living day in and day out with gender dysphoria, using the Internet to pretend to really exist, and dreading facing every day life...
After thinking about it long and hard I forced myself to tell my mom about moving out sooner. As expected we both got carried away and the conversation turned into another fight, about irresponsibility and gender dysphoria... Now she is heaping mad at me and cannot stand to look me in the eyes... and I feel shame whenever I see her face. She says her health is deteriorating, and I can't help but feel guilt. She told me she was coming closer to accepting me before but I guess now I should realize that was a lie... she's still hoping for me to be a boy, and hoping, even if without realizing it... for my misery.


None of this is fiction... not even my cross dressing experience... though I sometimes have it hard to believe I actually gathered the nerve to go out and do that.
~Claudia

Mother and I

I promised myself I wouldn't do any double posts on the same day, but tonight I feel I have to...

Fought with my mom again today... it was stupid and more or less my fault... She reminded me I needed to shave before class, and I got frustrated and decided to comment at how I never forget how disgusting my beard hair is... so another fight ensued.

It turned into an argument about why I'm so depressed because I'm "getting everything I want" now. This is how she interprets medi-cal paying for my hormones and SRS... me "getting everything I want." It still doesn't change the here and now, I'm not depressed because I'm going to transition, I'm depressed because of gender dysphoria. I'm depressed because I can't seem to pull myself far enough out of reality to find pleasure in every day anymore. I'm depressed most of all... because I'm afraid of disappointment... I'm afraid that I've gotten my hopes up for beginning my transition, and something will go wrong that will end it... Medical will discontinue coverage, I'll turn 25 and be ineligible for their help... they will diagnose me a transvestite and cast me out of their care and tell me to go buy some lingerie.

And I am depressed about and at the same time scared of transitioning behind her back... I feel guilt like I've betrayed her, but also fear of being discovered.

She wonders why I don't act faster if I "want this so bad" Truthfully I'm trying... I've never written a resume before and I've not had too many jobs... The ones I have had have been awful, and its just hard to get up and face the day, much less actually accomplish anything in this confusion...
She told me to get out of her room, and go feel sorry for myself, and I did exactly that... I do what I do when it gets too much to handle or live with. I refuse to kill myself, but there is no rule against thinking about it... so when it gets to the point where I want to so badly, I curl up in a ball in my room, hug a pillow pretending its my love, and let the thoughts of suicide cycle through my head until they finally pass, and eventually something more pleasant, even if only mildly... seeps into my head in their place.
She went to get cigarettes while I was doing this... she was trying to quit again.
So I guess I'm killing her slowly.
I didn't want to feel completely defeated so, I forced myself to go to class... to sit there with people who's faces I did not want to see, and do drawings I felt no desire to do. I sat there trying not to look TOO miserable, but right now the pain is just too much to hide it from other people. Still for what its worth... I dragged myself up and drove over there and worked on my drawing, instead of laying there feeling sorry for myself. Still a great deal of self pity took place in the class room... so I don't know if I really accomplished anything by going or if I'm just kidding myself.
I've become a burden on my family, my friends, and everyone who has been there for me. I just cannot think happy thoughts at the moment. Little entertains me... enjoyment of life is a strain at best... and I cannot seem to pull myself out of this funk, so for the time being, I'm going to take a short leave of my friends, and everyone precious to me for a day or so... if your reading this, know I'm alive and I haven't given up... but I do not wish to whine to you, and I've nothing else to say...
Unfortunate for the love of my life... at least in my perspective... for I cannot face this completely alone, and so I cannot take my leave of her...

Not fiction.
~Claudia

The Ugly Duckling: Late onset transsexuality and why that by itself is a source of grief for me.

The ugly duckling is taunted and teased all her life, until she one day discovers she is a swan!
Ahhh such a lovely comparison to the so called "late onset" transsexual.

But such things are not so lovely for me... Do not get me wrong... my female identity means so much to me... I remember when I first did research on the subject of transsexuality... I found the ultimate discovery... that I did not just WANT to be a girl or WISH I was a girl... that all this time... the profound mystery that's haunted me all my life... was simply that I already AM a girl and I have been all along...
Wishing I could understand the female mind even better: gone! I have one! That explains why I'm always in tune with women, not men... (though some of my best friends are still men, and many have been) That explains why I've always found "being really in touch with my feminine side"
But whenever I look for advice or for information from other transsexuals any personal account always seems to start with "ever since I was a child, I knew I was born the wrong sex..."

... not me...

I just have never been that smart. I knew something was wrong... seriously horribly wrong with me as a child. I knew that I didn't want to be what I was, and I was absolutely appalled by being defined by, what at the time I -thought- was my gender. Yet I can also remember a number of times where I'd repress my femininity... not really knowing I was a girl inside or needed to be a girl, but "that cartoon is for girls, I better ask grandma to change it" rather than just watching it if it interests me.

I didn't really play with boy toys, or with girl toys, so I can't really use the old "oh when mother found me playing with dolls" story either, but my rough and tumble cousins were always aliens to me. In fact my experience growing up and some of my experience during adolescence (though by this time my feelings were more that of a transsexual) were much closer to that of what is called an "androgyne," or some other kind of gender variant persons... http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Androgyne http://androgyne.0catch.com/
In some parts of early adolescence it was similar to the experience of a transvestite... that is sexual attraction to women, and my gender identity, were impossible to separate... so I thought it was a natural part of attraction.

... but though I've no problem with transvestites or androgynes, I feel I am neither one... and would not like to be mistakened for either one. My wish, my true wish, is to have been born a girl... though as a child I actually was afraid that my body would magically turn female (other transsexuals told me the felt this fear at one point) I have no doubts now, that given the choice to go back and do it all over again as a girl, I most definitely would.

You'd think this makes me unique, even for a transsexual... but I despise my existence and regret my childhood even more for these things...

If only I'd figured it out sooner I wouldn't have to doubt and keep trying to convince myself, I'm really a girl inside, I'm really a girl inside.
Even the other, who I am closed to told me she never knew how she knew... she just knew.
So why the hell couldn't I figure this out till I did tons of research? Why did it take me so long to figure out the most all encompassing aspect of my life?

Now it seems I am overtly feminine... I like the color pink... I like butterflies and tiaras and faeries... I suppose someone kind would say I'm reliving the childhood I realized I lacked... but my infinite ability for self torment accuses me of being a transvestite, (sorry transvestites, I mean no offense), because I am TOO girlish. I must simply be "trying too hard..." but I really do like these things...

The problem is that the lines are not so solid, even in matters like this... and I'm not proud or happy to be within the blur.

I wish I was at least a little less unique... a little less peculiar.
I do not wish to be special in this way... I just wish to be a girl, whole and complete.

Apparently on Harry Benjamin I'm a 5/6 (http://www.genderpsychology.org/transsexual/benjamin_gd.html note that I don't dress up as a girl in every day life, coz I don't look anything like one yet... or else I would. Also note that this is out of date as Gender Identity and Sexual Orientation are found to be unrelated) "Moderate intensity transsexualism" but there is nothing moderate about this feelings... my feelings right now are either I'm a girl... or die.
I have no misgivings about transitioning... only the infinite doubt and confusion in my mind about what creature I am, and WHY I need to transition. (and the overwhelming fear that I will not pass for a genetic female, and be ostracized from society for all eternity)

I took Jennifer Diane Reitz's COGIATI (Combined Gender Identity and Inventory) and scored 350+ on the high end of the "probably a transsexual" category. That is to say I'm actually more transsexual than most, apparently. http://transsexual.org/TEST0.html I've taken this three times being as honest as I could... but I WANTED it to tell me I was transsexual... and it did. That's what I want... to not have to confirm this for myself anymore... for someone else to just tell me and prove: I am a girl, there's no more doubt or confusion on the matter any more, I'm a girl and that's all there is to it.
My nontranssexual friend who DOES identify as a man in touch with his feminine side... took this test and it told him he was an androgyne... so much for proof.
I suppose the only proof I can ever really have is the ultimate extent of my suffering... and that I've thought this through as thoroughly as possible: I do not like the idea of getting old and I don't really see myself as an old lady... but I'd rather be an old lady than an old man. (no offense to the elderly, I look up to my grandparents, I am just not there yet at age 22)

If only things weren't so complicated... ahh to be unique is not so great. Apparently no wonders are found in the obscure... only horrors like myself


And none of this is fiction.
~Perpetual little girl: Claudia

Clear, concise, direct to the point.

Everything my blog is not.
You may have already noticed the link, but I've been meaning to post this page: http://ftmstraighttalk.blogspot.com this man, another transsexual, female to male, offers a more direct an easy to follow explanation of transsexuality, and his personal experiences dealing with it as a man.
I wanted to share this link because he explains things in a very simple direct and positive manner.
I also wanted to share this link because it gives a man's perspective, as what little positive attention we get in the media is usually directed towareds male-to-female transsexuals like myself.
I wasn't planning on having a daily blog but lately so much is going on that I cannot keep up with my own life. (Yet nothing seems to really change)

Family Matters

"Tension so think you can cut it with a knife"
Ever heard this expression? I've always found it kind of silly, but I guess its the only thing that can describe what I'm feeling with my family right now...

I guess I never should have mentioned to my mom that medical will be covering the hormones for me... I wanted her to try to see this as treatment for something wrong with me... not as an "alternative lifestyle." She told dad the news, and now their both finding it difficult to talk to me. She told me their both upset that I'm going to begin my transition faster than they thought. I know this looks bad on the outside to them, and that they cannot understand what I'm feeling or why it hurts so much, but its hard to get any motivation in life when the two people who I depend on most, who I love, are counting on obstacles, delays, and failure towards my desperately needed goal. I layed down and felt sorry for myself for a little while, but I managed to get a little bit done towards getting a job this weekend... Still they fail to notice that... they are even less supportive of me than normal now...

And they don't know I'm beginning so soon.

I just want to be happy... as a girl... Must it be so forbidden? Must I want this with so much pain?

None of this is fiction.

Another Wasted Halloween

Students everywhere in costumes... families having fun with children... Halloween in my opinion you are never really to old for...

And it hurts like hell.
When it comes to Halloween, there's nothing androgynous or tomboyish about me... I want to dress up as a faerie or a witch or a princess... Halloween brings out the girly girl in me. Even the girl pirate costumes don't really interest me... the tomboy in me is totally gone on Halloween night.
So what did Claudia spend Halloween doing? Nothing at all. Lamenting on my usual pain, and wishing and hoping that some day, I'll be a pretty dark witch or an elegant princess or a beautiful faerie for one night, like the little girl I never was. I didn't draw anything for Samhain... too exhausted. I just went to bed... I went to class, and dropped off a prescription at the pharmacy for Halloween... my favorite holiday.
No boy costumes would have sufficed for any entertainment or fun for me... I have no interest in being a gender dysphoric samurai or gender dysphoric Dracula. I suppose I could go out in "drag" and be myself for a little while... but I'm too ashamed... I can't pass for a girl right now... and the drag would be taken as a joke... and I'm just too serious about it to be ready for that.

A Pact with the Devil

When I woke up it was about 8:30, it didn't take long for me to be hurrying out the door. I thought I'd leave in plenty of time, at 10:00 am, seeing as my appointment was not until 1:00 pm. This is the farthest I've ever driven in my life. I wanted to convince myself that I am taking steps towards Independence, the Independence I need to transition, and I have to admit... part of me really is convinced.

Its amazing how hot it gets in the city, especially when its quite cold out in the desert. The urban heat was sweltering and I was beginning to sweat as I drove from the dirt covered black hole I live in, to actual civilization.

Relative comfort, the concrete jungle I grew up in. I always hated the place as a child, yet now I realize how much I miss its wretched smell and throngs of people, though why I still cannot say. Something about it feels like home. Or maybe I just feel comfortable knowing that there are thousands of other creatures that are stranger than I in every direction...



But desert people are weird enough.



The drive took me two hours. Surprisingly I didn't have as much trouble as I thought I would finding the place. I kept thinking I passed the exit I needed but eventually everything worked out, it was just a long drive.



I got to the bank... yes the bank... In which a hospital is supposedly stashed away and hidden. I looked around nervously, thinking... great I need help with transsexuality... not tax returns. Finally it really was in this building, awkward as it felt looking around in there. (I'm not trying to be silly but typing it out I guess this was kind of a silly experience.) I nervously entered the elevator, and when I reached the desired floor, I was only slightly relieved.



I'm not sure why I bothered with the details up to this point, as nothing up till now really matters. I approached the counter... and told them I had an appointment with Dr. Hope. "And your name is" "It's Guy but the appointment is under a different name... " I thought to myself: Oh great I have to tell her, she's gonna laugh at me and say hahaha you said your name is Claudia, you queer! "Oh okay Claudia, what time...?" She doesn't care? Is she used to this or just polite I asked myself. As I spoke a lovely black woman exited the door talking to someone else. She had a deep voice but was very pretty... I could tell, though only because I was looking and thinking of nothing else... that she was transsexual... in fact I was later to find out, she was in fact Dr. Hope.

I sat down in the waiting room and noticed an androgynous person sitting there... I wondered if it was a girl like myself... she was dressed as and appeared physically to be male, but had a cute hair clip, and long hair, and also a rather high voice... I didn't wanna make any assumptions about any ones inner gender, but as it turned out...

I was right...

they were waiting for a support group that Dr. Hope runs, and I was invited to be a part of this group for a little while, while I waited to have my paperwork sorted out. Dr hope called me by my real name, and introduced me by that name to everyone, and everyone greeted me by that name... almost everyone there was trans, and there was a silent understanding among us all, who was a girl and who was a boy.
One girl was very far into her transition, if I hadn't been in this situation I wouldn't have known... she was a somewhat large girl, but very pretty in my humble opinion, and very comfortable being a girl. She was quiet though. Another girl had the size of a girl, wore girl clothes, and had a pretty hairstyle, her face didn't yet have facial hair removed, but I could tell she'll be so pretty when she's finished with her transition. You get used to seeing who's inside pretty quickly...
Another young woman walked in also male to female, she was clearly physically androgynous, and also went by her male name still... guess she's still deciding. I felt inspired by these young women, you could feel the courage in the room. I couldn't imagine how much emotional strength it takes to be her in her currant state, but I think they will all be beautiful when they make it through the dark tunnel...
This was the first time I've ever been face to face with other transsexual, or transgendered people.
Dr. hope herself was a very pretty woman, though she had somewhat broad shoulders and narrow hips. She is very sweet and kind... and I felt so comfortable talking to her. She explained the whole process I'm going to go through to me... and she gave me a much needed hug.
All this time as Claudia, instead of guy, made me feel almost giddy... It felt like I had been suffocating for so long, and finally came up for air... it was a relief I cannot honestly describe in words. My body became transparent... I felt like a real girl... I've never felt so unquestionably like myself in person, with real people, though I have friends that accept me and treat me as a girl.
Apparently through them... medical will cover my hormones and possibly even the surgery... that is such a huge relief. I was prepared to give up everything
Yet there is still a catch... A weird kind of catch...
I get to start the hormones very soon... possibly in two weeks.
I've no apprehension about the hormones themselves or the effects they will have on my body.
I have no problem with starting right away.
(I'm a little scared, I know the journey will be hard, but I know this is right for me)
The problem is that I'm going to conceal it from my parents...
I've always secretly been a good daughter, sure I get into fights with them but... I've obeyed them this far...
So now this is the second greatest act of betrayal I can commit. The devil will approach me in two weeks with a contract... sign on the dotted line and I'll grant your greatest need in life... I'll absolve you of your most damning and condemning ill... all I ask in return... is a piece of your soul... the piece that never dared to betray them.

Tonight is the night of Samhain... I read this holiday represents death and rebirth... and that creativity is a way to celebrate it. I dunno if I'm going to draw anything tonight as I'm pretty low on creative energy, but I'll try...

This is the death of the boy and my rebirth as Claudia... or at least I deeply hope so...



Sorry mom and Dad...
at least I'm not a drug user serial killer gang member or anything like that...
or is this just as bad to you?

I came home that night and tried to talk the forbidden talk: to try to get her to let me transition while I'm here... She said she can't take it... that she could die of a heart attack seeing me do this... She could be right... she started smoking again... What she doesn't know... maybe it really can kill her?

Metaphors aside none of this is fiction save the names put in place of the real ones including my own.
~Claudia

The Moon Behind a Veiled Masque

This post is primarily about my spirituality, though like all aspects of my life it ties in with transsexuality.
My readers not interested in this aspect of my life may want to skip this post.




It is the night of the full moon again, the first one since what feels like ages. Prior to beginning this blog I tried praying to the full moon. I've had spirituality dying and rising in me lately. I thought my prayers or spells did nothing. My time for mischief certainly seems to be over.

I read online on a Wiccan website (call me a "fluff bunny" I do not care, I shall explore the occult at my own leisurely pace) that the full moon is a time of cleansing. A simple example of a full moon ritual was to write down things I want to be cleansed of, so I thought it'd be worth a try. On the beginning of the list was "maleness" and "my male body..." I felt a strange guilt in this but perhaps that was the old Catholicism coming back to haunt me. It told me that such things do not belong in a "pure" ritual, and that I was being greedy. But this part of my life troubles me more than any other, this maleness. I also included other more "down-to-earth" things like fear, bad habits, and apprehension that prevents me from moving forward in my life.
It was shortly after that I stopped believing, but then shortly after that, that I was taken to the crisis center, which began this whole turning point which MIGHT lead to my transition. Am I making progress? Did my attempts to communicate with astral beings have any effect on that progress? I have no idea, but tonight the full moon is out again, and I shall try once more. If praying on the night of the full moon every night will turn me into a girl, I will do it. If its just "hocus-pocus" I'm not really hurting anything...



But of course tonight the sky is full of smoke and the moon is completely hidden. Will this curse me instead, or am I already cursed anyways?


This isn't fiction per say but I wonder if my imagination is getting the better of me...

~Claudia

Hope on Fire

I awoke uncertain as always, today. Fires are raging everywhere, thousands of people evacuated from their homes. The freeway I had to take was not closed but there were warnings on the news... and I had not been given a time for my appointment. I was determined to drive down there time or no time, appointment or no appointment. After all I'm willing and well aware of the risks involved with taking conjugated estrogen, and I wouldn't be so determined if this was not life or death for me in the first place.
I called the office trying to reach Dr. Hope, only to discover that not only was she not a doctor... but neither was she a man, but instead a deep voiced woman, a "case manager" for the behavioral health section. A deep voiced woman... who I mistakened for a man... this left me with mixed unpleasant feelings... First of all was guilt, for though she is unaware of my error, my whole life is in shreds because of the importance of being recognized as who I am... and second I wondered if this is to be my fate as well... I wondered if there will always be a sign that will give away who I am. Her name will remain Dr. Hope for the purposes of this blog, as regardless she still symbolizes that to me: hope... something I am desperately in need of.
I called again and again to find out she will not be in until 1:00 today, and nobody knew of my appointment. Against my better judgement... I stayed home. I slept most of the day today, temporary suicide, or so I thought, but suicide became my haunt tonight. I dreamt repeatedly of blowing my brains out with a shotgun... and standing outside my male body with its partially destroyed head hearing my mother run outside to investigate the loud noise, horrified to see my lifeless male body... I wonder what this really symbolizes, if dreams are constrained to one meaning or if they mean anything at all. To my sweetheart who has been my support during all of this nightmare since she met me (as it is a never ending nightmare save when I'm with her, and she makes me feel like me): I am sorry for these dreams, but they are dreams... nothing more. I refuse to end my life while you are there for me, the love and support you give me is enough to keep me alive. I love you.


I cannot describe exactly how long seven days feels like right now...


Unfortunately not fiction ~Claudia.

The Hope Doctor... and a Journey into the Unknown

I can't believe it's been only six days since my last post... it feels like eternity. I have been on a roller coaster ride of hope, and no hope. I've come to a realization: all my other dreams and goals in life don't mean much to me... I don't care about animation or art... I don't care about anything else until I can live 24/7 as myself... I guess that sounds greedy... or maybe it sounds stupid. Take your pick. Either one is fine with me. I have been "okay" to some extent for the time I have been... only because I live vicariously through the Internet, and through video games. I drag myself to school... fake interest... keep in mind that I'll be Claudia when I get home. Get home, plug in and BAM! instant female. Sure I'm still at odds with my physical body... sure even then its not as good as being me in real life, but its a quick fix. I can't really focus in school because my goal is to get home plug back in and be treated as a girl by my friends online. Sometimes I'd get brave and tell the ones I trusted most... It felt good when they still accepted me as a girl.



I've dropped both my animation classes already. I don't care about them anymore, I can't even be creative anymore because all I think about is some way to express who I am in terms of female instead of male. So I was faced with this problem and a question: my parents are thinking of kicking me out, and I just don't know what's possible... can I support myself through this transition if I move out now? I decided I need a short term career... but I'm scared that my parents will kick me out before I finish the last few semesters of school for a career certificate... They probably want to make sure I cannot afford this change...



When I went on Tuesday to talk to the instructor he wasn't there, only a student who gave me some information about the software and the money involved in it. It didn't sound too promising for short term though... I plunged again into despair... there is no way out of this... I couldn't figure out how people pay for it... how they accomplish this change... save prostitution and the support of parents... It seemed so impossible... it seemed like I'm going to have to live with this for five more years... I can't deal with that...



I had a list of resources given to me by the crisis center from the weekend of the big fight with mom and dad. Trans friendly clothiers, churches in the relative nearby area. (Nothing really is trans friendly where I live.) The most important resource they gave me however, was a phone number for a supposed clinic which SPECIALIZES in Gender Dysphoria...



Feeling helpless and trapped I called Dr. Hope... Like anything else in this story I will not disclose his real name. He was very gentle over the phone... he asked me if I am currently transitioning from male to female. I explained to him I want to really badly, in a whining voice... almost crying. He talked to me about starting the hormones right away... I replied that my parents do not allow it, and he then explained that I can conceal the transition for up to two years in my parents house... But do I want to risk forsaking whatever chance I have at their forgiveness? He told me he is looking for housing for me and a job for me. My feelings are ambivalent, exited about starting my transition and at the same time afraid of the issues that might occur in consequence concerning family and finances. I have absolutely no hesitation as far as my decision goes to be female.
Housing already? Starting my transition? But what about money? All of these questions are racing through my mind as I head to the little hidden corner of the school to ask the teacher about GIS and its prospects for me as a short term career. He mentioned I could be making 3,700 a month with just two classes. If I live under my means that should be enough to slowly trudge through my transition. Can I really transition otherwise on just a high school education? After talking about it to a teacher I am out to, I decided that is the most profoundly simple question I need to ask.


Still miserable with the usual feelings of gender dysphoria, and weighed down with distractions of uncertainty, this clinic in the city for whatever reason brings to mind the 2001 film "Artificial Intelligence." Perhaps a modern spin on Pinnochio the boy in the film searches for the non-existant blue fairy that will make him a real boy. He tries and tries in vain, getting closer and closer to something that can't really exist, obcessed with a quest which for him can have only one possible outcome.
I can't help but feel this doctor is my "Blue Fairy." I feel I've mistakened something else for the transition I so desperately need. I am to go to this mythic place and think I've found the sanctuary I'm looking for... only to be pointed to the next destination in my helpless, hopeless quest... to be a real girl.

None of this is fiction except for the names that were substituted...
~Claudia

A Flickering Light

So much has happened to me I do not know where to begin... I have reached a turning point in my life, and I finally feel I can actually do this thing, (scared though I am, that I will not succeed). It began miserably... I finally went to my first session with a "therapist" He told me we were gonna fix things... I thought to myself "you mean I'm really gonna be a girl?" He told me there is hope... he got my hopes up... I don't remember exactly what he said when I realized what he meant... that he wanted to kill Claudia... to destroy her, and make the iron shell in which she is imprisoned come alive... He wanted to make me want to be a man... He said it would only work if I wanted it too... thank goodness. I told him every bit of research I have done tells me I am born with this. He told me such research is biased. If it is biased, why does this occur in animals? He told me that I wont be happy unless I accept being a man. I know he was wrong, but I'll get to that. I finally in order to be certain of his foolishness asked him, if I was gay, and that were the problem, would he actually try and make me heterosexual... he said he would make me become heterosexual if I was uncomfortable feeling gay... I wonder how many gay people he's disappointed, especially in this conservative rural area I live in, (mostly desert, arid... dry... depressing... but that's beside the point) He told me, that some people want to keep feeling this way, shrugging and putting them off, I felt sorry for them when he said that, but I took him literally. He meant some people didn't want to try his game of black and white, and know they had to take the road less travelled. Despite knowing all this, his words still stabbed my heart deeply, and injured me. I was terrified driving home. Miserable. I actually screamed, while driving "HE'D BETTER BE WRONG!" at the top of my lungs... I came home miserable and avoided my parents as much as possible because if they knew they would tell me..."he didn't tell you what you want to hear so you left" Right... instead he told me what YOU want to hear. I can't remember if that night or the next night is when I heard my friend passed away... I think it was the next night, every ting is blurry. I was still miserable from what he said. Doubting the existence of Claudia is more painful then the feeling of wanting to be her.





My parents don't like to see me depressed. Hypocritical in some ways, but I know they love me... even if the are my worst enemies in this battle. They cornered me, assaulted me with questions... reduced me to tears. I wish I can remember what they said to me, but in this state of mind I cannot. All I can remember, is that I was out of the closet again and sobbing in my room in hysterics, for a while they wouldn't talk to me. They asked me to go to a hospital I said no. They asked me to go to a doctor I said no. They said I might get the help I need, I said "Their not gonna turn me into a girl at the hospital." That of course, was a in a stupor of rage and depression. Finally I let them take me to the crisis center where we live... it was an awful, silent car ride to the crisis center, full of silent blame and anger. When I got there, I was angry, and i told the therapist there first thing, "I want to be a girl" instead of beating around the bush. Finally, some support... she said to be proud of who I want to be and of who I am inside, She let me cry over my friend's death. She told me it was going to be painful and I was going to have losses but not to let my parents stop me. I felt such gratitude. The nurse came in, and made small chat with me and I offhandedly mentioned that there was conflict with my family. He asked if it's always been that way and I replied "Ever since I came out." I didn't tell him what I came out about but he laughed warmly, and I preferred it this way, since I just didn't wanna seem like a heterosexual boy. Anything to make me feel more like a girl. I talked to the doctor, the psychiatrist, that is, and he told me that for some people Hormone Replacement and Sex Reassignment is the only answer. He told me that Gender Dysphoria is a real psychiatric illness, that there are no psycho actives for it. He told me to keep going to school if i can, but to try to be strong... If I can... oddly reading between the lines made me realize I needed a job, and i needed to do something about this. I still wasn't sure what...



After telling my parents I wanted to get a job... trying to avoid the real issue I focused on moving out, telling them that I wanted to be independent, that I wanted to be on my own. They told me I needed to go to a tech school and learn a trade. I figured I can live with this for another semester or two, maybe two years tops. I realized it will probably be more like two and a half years before I can actually do something real about it, but at least I'm starting. I went to the councilors office the next day at school and tried a little magic spell (because I believe in that stuff or I used to and want to again) that I'd have a councilor that I felt would accept me... so that I can actually tell her my situation, and hopefully she will help me considering the... details involved. I actually did this... I told a complete stranger, my... "problem" and she was helping just like I hoped. She told me about a software program that seem to be in high demand. She gave me a hug, was so kind to me. Was this a spiritual experience?

I got home... Dad showed his first sign that he might accept me. We talked about moving out, I was worried that moving out before taking these classes, despite the constant struggle and pain, might not be a good idea... I made the mistake of saying "I want to move out now but I'm afraid it will slow me down more in the long run" He told me he knew what I was thinking about, we'll figure out what we were gonna do... It's the first time he ever acknowledged I was thinking that in a non hostile way.
I was this day, intoxicated with hope. I had a plan, I am going to do this. I could barely draw during drawing class, I could barely eat, yet for a... what I am... I was actually in a pretty good mood. I had the hardest time sleeping. I told my sweetheart all about it when I got home, she was so exited for me, I felt joy.

Dawn brought the searing rays of a new day. My parents left on "errands" in the morning. Of course later I was to find errands meant them seeing a therapist. I don't trust therapists anymore. I know this is an acute exaggeration but it feels like therapists are out to get me, to kill my soul. They told me the doctors told them to do what's right for them: to evict me in 30 days. They said they would consider laying some rules down and making me sign a contract in order to stay. I could have stayed cool... I could have stayed calm... I could have acted like that was fine. But the conversation started digging to the core of the problem... I was afraid it would slow me down... if they kick me out now I'll never be able to afford any procedures towards my sex change... and that's just what they want... to make sure I cannot.

"Why are the doctors that say go for it always right to you, and you will not try to listen to the doctors that say you can learn to like being a man"
"You'll be able to come back here you know..." is one of the things they said... I cannot recall every word, or at least, don't feel the rest is as important. " You won't let me back" says Claudia and she adds... "because..."
"Because he'll be changing himself and we won't accept him." her mother says...
"The moment I can afford it..." replied Claudia...






Can I really be this stupid?


I just want to be a girl. I don't have to be perfect, radiant beauty, I don't have to be a model on the catwalk. I don't have to be rich, and a singer on the stage. The world doesn't need to know and love me. I don't need a big house, a perfect life, I know people will not always accept me or respect me or understand me... if they know. I know it will be hard... it already is...
I'm not gonna murder anyone, not gonna steal anything. Not gonna beat anyone, I don't want to hurt anyone... not even my parents who I am hurting every day.
I just want to be a normal girl...
I just want to be a normal girl...
I just want to be a girl...






You can pull the weeds out all you want, and try to trim the landscape of my mind... but the agony root is always soiled deep in my heart, waiting to blossom into a garden of pain.
~Claudia
None of this is fiction except the name Claudia

Passing

When I told her about my condition, she said she wished me strength in the mountains I had to climb. She told me this, while cancer ravaged her, and her time left to be alive was short. She was always thinking of others, in fact her life career was helping others. I may be biased through my friendship but others who knew her might agree, at least from what I saw of her, she did not have a selfish bone in her body. As if my mountains mean anything compared to what she has been through, and now she is gone. I never had the chance to get too close to her simply because, there was not enough time. My dear friend who has to deal with this the hardest of all, because you loved her the most of all, because you were in love with her, whatever powers that be, have mercy on your soul. ... None of this is fiction. ~Claudia

Just the basic facts, can you show me where it hurts?

Claudia again. Since I'm pretending this blog is actually doing something for the transsexual community, I figured I should post some facts and not so frequently asked questions about our state of being, and about myself.

Claudia you have a girlfriend in the real world? Then why do you think you are a girl?

First of all give credit where credit is due (Edit: that is a cold sounding way to say I love you sweety, and I'm grateful for you in my life), yes I have a significant other, a girlfriend. The likely hood of getting into a relationship that is satisfying in this state of being is very low, and in this I am actually extremely very lucky. She has an innate understanding of the manner of creature that I am, that to date, no human being I have ever met, save one fellow transsexual, has ever managed. While some people identify with us, it is impossible to truly understand what exactly it is like unless you've lived it... usually.

To answer the question, SEXUAL ORIENTATION and GENDER IDENTITY are NOT the same thing. Despite the stereotype of gay men being feminine, a gay man is still, at heart and soul, a man. If he is a woman in a mans body then he is essentially a heterosexual woman. This works the same way with women too. I for the record currently identify as bisexual, but since I am in a relationship with a woman it makes little difference. You might think that this is convenient, that I look like a heterosexual man, I can sorta act like one and pull it off, why go through all these changes, but it's not. I am her girlfriend and she sees me as such. I couldn't be happy in a relationship as a "boyfriend" and being bi or lesbian makes it even more difficult to convince people I so much as exist. People desire more than anything to "normalize" me, it likes women so it must be a man.

How did you come to be?
The Science that saved my sanity is the science that torments me constantly. The dominant theory is that it is a precongenital birth defect. All fetuses start female, and male development is triggered by a release of hormones. In some cases this is off timing and certain organs are developed before the hormones kick in, this is how hermaphrodites are born. Sometimes it isn't visibly noticeable and the brain is in fact... an organ like all the others. There is also theory towards genetics with a bit less evidence pointing towards it. Anecdotally speaking I have a little cousin that claims she is a boy (I use she for the convenience of reference, if she continues to believe this, she in fact may be a he, and I will respect that identity, though I hope I never have to for one reason: I would never truly wish to damn this curse on another human being, let alone see my cousin I love and care about endure this agony)

I say the science that torments me because I never have had the opportunity to take an MRI scan and prove once and for all that my mind is female. My personality is an androgynous thing. I collect swords and play video games, I like Faeries and kittens and fashion too, (though what goes on my own body doesn't matter much, I refuse to wear anything other than black though till after the sex change... to obscure the shape of my own reflection.) I look at the tormented butterflies on my doodles in math class, and at the cute and perfect flowers on a girls notebook... I wonder do I doodle lines or circles... As much as this curse torments me, the worst thing I could possibly imagine being is a man.

No need to be ashamed of who you are?
Unfortunately while science has told me there is a reason for this madness, modern society as of today still requires shame on my part. My parents do their part in making me feel guilt, I am not allowed to wear makeup, shave my legs, or do anything else blatantly feminine while I live in their house... but it is not limited to them. I know how ridiculous I sound claiming to be a girl with the Carpathian forest that carpets my face at dawn every day, and the horrendous depth of my voice, and my lumbering broad shoulders. We do not choose to be freaks. I would rather have been born a girl, then I would not have to question why I want to be one, or if my brain really is the gender I feel it is... It wouldn't matter if I'm already there. Does anyone ask you why you want to remain in your current gender?

Why did you choose the name Claudia for this blog?
As I said Claudia is not my real name, it is not even my "real name." That is it is neither my legal name nor the female name by which I prefer. It is as I mentioned the little vampire in Interview With the Vampire who was permanently trapped in the body of a little girl. I related to her in how she wanted to look like the grown woman she felt like inside. Also because of irony, as I after all, never got to be a little girl. I never will get to be a little girl. With spirituality and faith flickering out like a dying candle for me, I'm starting to hope less and less for a reincarnation, and I'm realizing, 22 years of my life are gone, and I will never have them back, and I spent those 22 years as another person, and every second that passes is stolen from my life.

You shouldn't do that to your body, its unhealthy, you'll never look normal, and/or you should appreciate what God gave you.
As I said I do not wish to be a freak. It took a while for me to accept that this is even a choice, in the technical sense, while feeling this way, at least, is certainly not a choice. I know people who decided to cope with it, and remain that way. I respect their decision and they respect mine, though I have not acted out on it yet (if I could i would start immediately without a moments hesitation) For me it isn't a choice... not truly... I cannot live with myself this way, it torments me even when I'm smiling and I seem in a good mood. The haunting is always there, and while you who know me in person may read this and remember seeing me pleasant, know that whatever my outward mood is... it haunts me constantly. I do not ever cease to think about it. The ones who remain this way, the ones who choose to keep it, it is not without consequences for them either, they suffer, and are fairly alone in the world. I provide my companionship as best I can but, can you really ask that of me? Is it I who is selfish or is the world who is unfair. Why should I endure this my whole life if I do not choose it. Asking me to remain this way, is asking me to suffer for the rest of my life, and to die an incomplete human being. Shouldn't I at least have the right to make that decision for myself?

As far as God goes I stopped believing in God a long time ago. Why would a perfect being do this to anyone? But some transsexuals need their faith, and have found that perhaps God accepts them, and gays, and other less "Mainstream" oriented people in society, who are hurting nobody. I am not innocent. My parents are emotionally mortally wounded by the fact that I am not their son. But other than regarding this very issue: my gender, I hardly really ever lie. I do not cheat people, abuse people, am I really that bad a person? Surely, la heretique, bizarre, embittered and obsessed with finding answers hidden within the occult, I am the worst example of 'my kind.' But others are not like me. Some are even God fearing Christians who unlike me are nearly devoid of common vices.


Next: My name for our kind, and why it fits too well, for me at least... (edit: this post got delayed by an epic bad weekend described in the next two posts)
~Claudia

On recent times

Greetings emptiness, Claudia again. I thought I'd continue this with a more thorough introduction of myself, or at least, of what's been going on in current affairs. Death. A friend of mine, a very dear friend of mine, is faced with the death of his lover, from cancer. She has maybe weeks to live, if that. She is my friend, and he has been my friend for a long time. I'm not honestly sure which is harder, saying goodbye to her, or seeing him in this state of being. Those of you who know me and did not know that, now you know what the catalyst was that sent me spiralling into the deeper bowls of my depression, there it is.



... but it is hardly the whole extent of it.

What manner of creature am I, that the easiest thing to do for me, is to simply sink within? Instead of thinking about my friends I guess its easier to wallow in my own misery, the misery of being in the wrong body. Maybe its just comfortable for me to feel pain I already understand.



I thought I'd more to say than that... another post coming later today but for now, Claudia signing off.

Burning Cocoons

Hello annonymous void of the internet. I'm starting this blog as an experiment, and as a need to get things out of my system. I'm annonymous, most of the information I provided about myself is false, and the email I chose is only for this blog. Now that that's out of the way the following things about me are true:
I feel I am a woman in a mans body
I am 22 years old
I live with parents that do not approve of my desire to change my body, and so for the time being I am completely helpless...

I know i'm not the only transsexual in the world and I admit that I hope dearly this blog will reach out to somebody. That being said alot of this will be personal too. I cannot write professionally about only my condition, I will branch out into other things, as I am a complex person. (or at least I think I am) Also I have a few friends who will read this knowing who I am. Hopefully that will not comprimise my annonymity but, out of respect for them, and also because through me if I post any secret information about them, others will e able to deduct who I am talking about, even if they do not know me, so I cannot provide any secrets even if they are extremely relevant to the situation I live in and how others may relate. I hope anyone reading this can accept that... if anyone out there cares about this at all. This is not a peachy blog, and I'm going to rant, rave and complain and spew hatred out at the world. I am psychotically depressed IN ADDITION to the comorbidity of being transsexual, and I am searching as well for some form of spirituality, so this will branch into my bizzarre curiosity about the occult, and the hope that there is something more to this life. This is not for everyone, and it is certainly self absorbed... but I do earnestly and honestly hope that this reaches out to someone. That i can create a haven for others like myself to come to me or to each other and talk. This is a lonely world. ~Claudia

PS: Claudia is neither my real name nor the name I consider myself and hope to adopt. It is a name I like and my name on this blog, that is all. It is also the name of the little girl Vampire in Interview with the Vampire. I hope whoever you are reading this, you did not somehow get past that I am bi and trans, and nearly insane, only to turn away because I read Anne Rice novels...