Hi Haley Faith!!!

I hope I do not offend anyone with some of the language and descriptions of body function that follows. I have not seen it referred to often, and rather than rewrite and possibly dilute what I have said, I'll leave it with the apology.
I've read through your post a couple of times, and Sally's as well. In both I have seen aspects of my past self, trying various ways to balance my needs versus my fear of losses, which included loss of family, loss of employment, loss of friends, etc. I too built models of various sorts Haley, including buildings which I would populate with toy people, but of course that wasn't playing with a doll house since the figures were cowboys and indians, and the houses were forts and cabins. Nevermind what went on behind my eyes while setting them up and arranging their interiors.

I also made models of planes and ships, which I cared about so much I would willingly sacrifice them to the 4th of July ritual of blowing them up with cherry bombs and firecrackers. They were just something to occupy my mind and hands, and they were miniatures which satisfied a need in me as well. I also would lose myself in books, and comics. I always detested organized sports, and didn't even like to watch it, though I had a basket ball goal and sometimes shot hoops and played Horse with neighborhood kids. I did not initiate the games, but I had the goal, so-----.
I have had and known I have had a body/mind conflict since I was 10. It was hieghtened when I began to enter puberty. I saw changes in my body, felt changes, that I didn't like, most of the time. There were a few times when the effects of mounting testosterone made me feel a kind of joyousness in a new found strength and stamina. I was always small for my age until then, and suddenly I was eye to eye with kids that had been bigger than me and kinda picked on me three months earlier, as I was one of those that suddenly changed just over a summer. I still remember the look of confusion and caution in one kid's eyes when he walked up to give me a hard time and found himself looking up at me instead of the other way around, so it did have an effect. At the same time, I would often wake in the morning and spend a half hour in the bathroom washing my face with cold water trying to stop the tears as I looked at that stranger in the mirror that didn't belong. Those were bad days, and carried over to my day at school. And the "wet dreams", the nocturnal emissions of early puberty; I HATED that. I had a full size bed, but I could not occupy that bed, or at least those sheets, after one of
those. I would have to get up and change my sleep clothes and the bed clothes, in order to go back to sleep, even though I could have just moved over to a different part of the bed. (I wanted my genitals gone, and tried to set up conditions that would cause them to have to be removed, like bike accidents, which wound up causing pain and a few days of funny walking, but little else.) That interrupted sleep usually carried over to the day as well, making for a wasted, depressed day for me at school. I could still make my mask function, and no one really noticed any difference when I was like that, or if they did, cared too little to comment.
I still have days like that. My sense of self when I wake and walk into the bathroom half asleep is often not in sync, and when I see a male in the mirror I get an adrenalin rush, a little spurt of shock, before reality returns and I recognize that person. Some of those days I never look at myself in the mirror again, shaving in the shower, and drying off without ever facing that image. Other days, I just can't look below the neck, and when I am not really in the day, I will feel a moment of confusion when presented with the choice between male and female bathrooms, not sure which I should use.

Some mornings I may dream of life as I should have been, and those mornings I usually just roll over and reach for the dream again, and just let myself be late for work. Depending on the severity, I might be a few minutes late, or half a day late.
Since I found myself pushed to the closet those many years ago, I have gone through repeated periods of denials, attempted to "sublimate" my need with work and other activities and hobbies several times, outright lied to myself, and tried any number and variation of compromises, which is why I was interested, Sally, in whether you might see your way to reassignment later, and in your plans Haley, for an essentially transgenderist way of life. I have gone through the same things you both have to an extent, except that I did know myself well enough to know I couldn't drag someone else into my misery, and so never married. There has been a cost in delaying all this, partly in that I have occupied a half life as far as I am concerned. Hell, there are
always costs, no matter your choices in trying to deal with this crap. After all these years, here I am,
still with the same body/mind conflict, and
still needing to tend to it,
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and now I am determined to do that regardless of the cost.

The costs will be very high in the financial security sense, but have lessened in terms of loss of family; time has taken care of that. Much of the cost will go into just trying to compensate for the effects of damned testosterone, because that stuff did step on me hard when it decided to do it. I expect to be a homely old broad, but I feel I need the reassignment to be able to percieve myself as whole, not for anyone else, just for myself. I do wonder, Sally, if homone replacement might have an effect on that perception, as others beside youself have described being able to find themselves at greater peace with the girl juice. Guess I will have to find out. For now at least, I would rather not wake up tomorrow as continue to live this way for the remainder of my expected life span.
And so it goes.
"It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,"
David Weber – In Fury Born