Embarking on a "mini" RLE...

[CJ]

Hi all,

Again, your input is super appreciated!

Donna (and to others who mentioned this),

Yes, it's a bit strange to be wearing sandals in winter, eh? But the truth is it seems as though winter is taking its own sweet time in getting here this year (and last year and the year before, etc.). We've had only one very tiny snowfall so far (already gone) and the temperature, though cold, is unseasonably warm for these parts at this time of year. The real cold comes to Quebec in January. You know, when I was a kid, the snow (the "staying" snow, that is) started in late October and, by early December, we could always count on having quite a few days off school because of the streets being buried under two or three feet of snow. Those days are gone, alas! (and I long ago sold my toboggan! ). Blame it on global warming, say the experts currently in town for the international conference on such matters.

Anita, I'm glad you enjoyed what I wrote. I tried to give a subjective slant to the experience so that someone who's never been out and about can have an inkling of what it feels like. Well, of what it feels like to me, at any rate. Public places in the province of Quebec are going smoke-free, come May 2006. Well, that's the theory, anyway. We have the highest proportion of smokers in the country (blame it on the French! ) so I don't know that this will fly. We'll see.

About the mixed gender cues, I'm totally aware of them and I agree with you. It's one thing to be feminine in a bunch of pixels created in a computer program (my avatar, for example) but it's quite another to be so while wearing a sweaty girdle, having a thinning hair mass, and sporting a five o'clock shadow.

Marlena,

You're right; I'm trying really hard not to read too much into the experience. What I'm mostly discovering is that I am, indeed, comfortable when being related to as a woman (or, rather, as someone who wants to be related to as a woman)... more comfortable, I think, than I am in any male role I've ever had to "play." I'll have much to discuss with my therapist.

My boss gave me some time off so I could do this mini RLE. He knows full well that I might be on a road that doesn't include my ability to return to work in my usual boy mode and he's preparing himself to accept that. To accept my resignation, that is. He left that door open for me. A door that isn't open is my working en femme (or even on the more feminine side of androgyny). The clients--emotionally fragile and often desperate for a sense of normalcy about their lives--will always come first, he says. And he's right. They must and they will. It's sort of too bad, though, that they're not given this opportunity to discover that "normal" is a fiction by having it turn out to be true that their own mental health counsellor has no use for the concept. But he's the boss, eh? It's his signature on my paycheck and I will submit to his calls.

Of course, I could try to do a "work-like" RLE, by interacting with people on a professional level. I sort of did this this week, though, by opening a new bank account en femme and by going to a hairdresser. These are professional people--it's not like just going to a bar for drinks. But I understand what you mean and appreciate your thinking on this. Thanks.

Virginia,

Taking a page from the gang at Monty Python, I say this to you: "I pout in your general direction!" I know my lips are my best feature. Thanks for the compliment.

Silver Lady,

The more people on my back, the better. Thanks for all your support. It means a lot to me. And you know it.

To all the others (600 views, eh? I hadn't noticed that ), thanks for the comments and thanks for letting me share this adventure with you.

Love,
CJ

[DonnaT]

The clients--emotionally fragile and often desperate for a sense of normalcy about their lives--will always come first, he says.

And yet, if they were transgendered or were admirers thereof, you'd be a benefit!

[Anita]

Hi CJ--
So I get a feeling for what's been happening. Your posts have been talking about more and more openness for some time, and that openness of course begin to manifest at work. There's only so much freedom of expression you can have as a role model/counselor, so the boss took you aside.

That's quite a turning point, isn't it? No matter what happens in this current time period, you can't undo the progression that's already happened. Your boss has made it quite clear that even androgyny is not going to work here, and I can't see you wanting to go backwards past that.
Obviously, you can do it for long enough to cast around for another position if you have to do so. A set time limit can make such arrangements bearable.

Marlena's point interests me. I don't have a problem with doing routine business or errands enfemme--shopping, opening an account, taking a car in for repair. But if I try to concentrate on an eight-hour stint at my job, the femme presentation would be a distraction for me. I haven't tried it; I'm just "thinking it through."

Either I'd be totally guy-like, thinking about the work, or I'd be trying to maintain my femme frame of mind, and get unfocused about the work. You can see that I'm not fond of that borderland where I'm neither male nor female, but bouncing around inbetween. And that is what focused work would do to me.

It's why I don't dress at home; to get anything done here, I need my focus. It's hard to explain. The dressing is not a novelty for me anymore; I do it often enough that it's familiar. But even so, the dressing keeps calling attention to itself. I'm just aware that "things are different"-- the heel clicks, the dress catching on the arms of chairs when I get up. the way I have to refrain from any hard rubbing of the eyes. If I ignore all these "cues" so that I can focus, then I'm just doing a bad job of being dressed--my makeup smudges, I might trip in whatever shoes I'm wearing, and I won't be sitting in a respectable pose for a dress-wearer.
And yes, women don't deal with this at home--they'd wear jeans, stocking feet, and no makeup. You see my point, though--if I'm going to do that, then I'm no longer really enfemme, for me. I can do my floor sanding work wearing jeans and a t-shirt, just like the women do. Then I'd just be a guy with these puzzling breast forms under my shirt. What's that about?

So a full week of nothing-but-gal would improve my ability to do these things, I suppose. It just reminds me how foreign the world of woman-like moment and mannerisms can be. When I'm playing for a video shoot as a guitarist, I have to be aware of every little movement. I practice for weeks to get used to this kind of "self-consciousness." On camera, I can sometimes maintain a convincing femme appearance for some minutes. When I'm done, though, I feel like I've been holding my breath underwater--I can DO it, but what a strain it can be!

I would hope, CJ, that if you continue to move toward doing a greater percentage of your work enfemme, that you can rise about these quibbles that I'm putting out here. I have to remember that acting enfemme can get easier with constant practice--the TS women around me remind me of that. I don't want to "run away" with your thread, and I'm doing some of that--I got to rambling. Hopefully, it's enough on-topic to be of some use.

[Marlena Dahlstrom]

Marlena's point interests me. I don't have a problem with doing routine business or errands enfemme--shopping, opening an account, taking a car in for repair. But if I try to concentrate on an eight-hour stint at my job, the femme presentation would be a distraction for me. I haven't tried it; I'm just "thinking it through."

There's that, but also experiencing the potential for the more serious "downsides" to being pereceived as a woman: [insert feminist complaint here]. The sort of thing like not being taken as seriously, being perceived as "bitchy" rather than "assertive," etc. In short, the sorts of things an actual RLE seeks to have you confront to make sure transitioning is something you really want to do.

I don't want to rain on CJ's parade, and trying to emulate a "work-like" experience probably isn't appropiate to tackle now. It's just that I've heard of a couple other instances of people doing similar mini-RLE and they were alls done while that person was on vacation (for obvious reasons). So while it can be a learning experience, one just needs to keep in mind that's it's not necessary a realistic example of what life might be like.

From what she's said, I'm sure CJ is well aware of this, so CJ have fun and enjoy her current experience.

[Marda]

... To all the others (600 views, eh? I hadn't noticed that ), thanks for the comments and thanks for letting me share this adventure with you. ... Love,CJ

Hi CJ,
~
You wouldn't have believed me that the CJShow here on TVTV would be such a *HUGE* Hit

Now You Know You're #1 on the ratings !!!
~
h's / Marda

[Kyra]

Hey CJ,
I can't begin to describe the glee I feel right now! I'm so happy for you. Girl, your posts make me feel as though I'm right there with you. Your excitement jumps off the page!

I'm eagerly waiting to read your next one.

Edge of my seat hugs,
Kyra

[CJ]

Hi all,

The experiment is over.

I wish I could say something like, "I'm sad to have to put a stop to this" or some such thing but the truth is, I'm sort of glad it's over. It's a bit of a relief, actually; the week was so full of ups and downs, so full of moments of high anxiety and pure bliss (often within mere minutes of each other), that it just had to come to an end soon so that I could just breathe again without constantly being under high "social tension" like I've been for the past few days.

Friday was Day 7, the last day of my mini RLE. And it only lasted a couple of hours, in the morning. I got up early so I could dress for my very first appointment with my therapist (a "psychodynamic" sexologist by profession who also teaches at one of the universities here and is affiliated to a hospital clinic that helps transsexuals in their transition process). I shaved and showered (shaving my legs while in there--something that took me no more than a couple of minutes now that I do it on a regular basis). After applying moisturizing cream all over (highly recommended if you're going to scrape a blade across your skin daily), I put on a pair of tan support pantyhose and struggled into my newly favourite all-in-one front zippered girdle (the one that keeps me well, uh, "tucked in" and that fits me like a, well, like a breast in a bra cup, I guess). I put on a pair of black slacks, a creamy blouse with a ruffled neckline, and my calf-length boots. I blow dried and styled my hair as best I could (with decidedly mixed results), put on earrings, a touch of makeup, and a spritz of perfume. I grabbed my trusty backpack (no "pursing" today--I had too much stuff I needed to take with me) and left.

This was going to be a test for me. As most of you know, I don't own a car and I don't drive. So I was going to have to take the subway into town. This is something I would rather have avoided (and I did avoid it on Wednesday by taking a cab). Not that the Montreal "metro" (as we call the subway here) is unsafe. It is safe. It's just that, especially at morning rush hour, people are often packed like sardines in there (and this is why I usually avoid it even in boy mode); I'm not super comfortable being face to face with people, standing still, while crossdressed. Can you blame me?

As it turned out, there weren't too many people, though. I guess it was still a little bit too early (about 7:20 am--my appointment was for 8:00). People ignored me, for the most part, although my long red-polished fingernails caught the attention of a few people as I read the paper. But they didn't seem to care. I got off at my station. This station is the hub, the nexus, where all the subway lines intersect. And it was totally jam-packed. I followed the throngs up the escalators and through the pedestrian tunnels to the street exit. Nobody looked; nobody cared. Cool. (Perhaps, nobody noticed. Perhaps.)

I made it to the clinic just in time. My therapist was already waiting for me and was completely unsurprised to see me dressed the way I was. We chatted for about fifty minutes. I felt rather comfortable even though he was putting things out there and telling me things that were making me inwardly scratch my head in puzzlement. As the session wore on, I became gradually miffed and even sad. I got the impression that he had absolutely no clue what the hell he was talking about. I started really forcing myself to remain open about this; after all, he wasn't transgendered himself and he didn't really know me yet. I saw that I'd have to work at giving this a chance.

I left, feeling low, feeling blue, feeling slightly disgusted with myself. I went to a café a few blocks east to try to cheer myself up (a good cup of Joe will usually do that to me). The place was very busy but I did find a table by the window where I could watch the mass of humanity hustling and bustling about outside like so many clueless busy ants. I wasn't feeling good. I grabbed a free internet wireless tablet at the counter and came here, to the forum. I spent over an hour writing what I thought was a good post about what Marda calls "structural vulnerability" (giving it its own topic as a new thread). I was previewing it for proofreading, as I usually do all my posts, when the computer just up and died on me. It shut itself off. Instantly. Apparently, the battery died. I was pissed.

Sighing, I took my novel out of my bag and started to read. But, within a few minutes, I could hear the two "bums" sitting at the table behind me talking and laughing. At one point, one said to the other, "hey, did you see that f***kin' weirdo behind ya?" More laughter as I could feel his eyes on my back. And I wasn't imagining it. I turned around and looked at them. They were grinning at me. That's it, I thought, I'm outta here. I don't need this kind of crap this morning.

I gathered my stuff and left the café, heading back to the metro. Now, I was under the impression that everyone was looking at me, staring at me. And many, in fact, were. And laughing, too, while pointing my way. I just wanted to vanish, to disappear, right then and there. This isn't what I wanted for myself. This isn't what I needed from the world I live in. As I neared the metro entrance, I passed by a homeless young woman standing on a corner with a large wooden crate by her feet in which sat two shivering, blanket-covered dogs. As I passed her, she called out to my back, "hey mister! really! you look like an idiot; it's pathetic!" I continued walking while she continued her ranting. Only much, much later did all kinds of possible replies pop into my mind. Too late, of course.

That metro ride back home was the longest in my life. The cars were packed, much more so than at rush hour. I couldn't figure it out; it was only about 11:30... where were all these people coming from? These whispering, glancing, mocking, scornful people? The words my father told me last summer in our last conversation came back to me like cannon shots: "If you're going to do it this way, prepare to be a martyr."

I got home, totally despondent. I quickly changed. Got out of these damned clothes. Put on my rough jeans and a shirt. I felt like some kind of sick sexual pervert, a piece of meat not fit to live in this world. Carole, with whom I'd had plans to go shopping in the afternoon, phoned just then. She quickly saw that I wasn't feeling too hot and decided to come right over. By the time she got here, I'd managed to remove my nails. As she sat in the kitchen, not sure what to say, I stood before the bathroom mirror, trying very hard to remove all trace of makeup. And crying at the same time. Oh boy, did I ever cry! I cried my heart out as she came in and stood next to me, silently, just caressing my shoulder as the soiled cotton balls piled up on the counter. "F**k! F**k! F**K!" I shouted at the mirror. At the world. At God.

Afterwards, we sat in the kitchen for a long time, talking, Carole and I. She calmed me down as I filed and sanded and buffed and polished away every trace of nail glue on my own fingernails. She brought me back up a little as we discussed what the therapist had told me and what I'd felt regarding people's reactions earlier that morning. Then, we did go do some shopping (groceries, finally!).

I've been keeping away from the forum these last couple of days, just trying to get my own head screwed back on straight. I'll need to digest a bit more the implications of the events of the last week. Now that I'm feeling a bit better (I spent all of Friday afternoon and evening and all of yesterday with Carole), I can see that I'm not sorry I undertook this RLE. I'll just need to mull it over for a little while more. And I will be addressing many of the points you all brought up, especially Marlena's and Anita's. For now, though, this is over. And I'm going to be "decompressing" a bit more today.

Again, thanks for your patience with me folks. I'm trying to be who I am in this world and you all are a very fine and good safety net. I'll talk to you soon.

Love,
CJ

[Anita]

Hi CJ--
I don't know what I'm going to say, but I'm not going to take any time to think it over--I'm going to write. I'm still crying some as I sit here. I haven't read anything that devastating in a long time, and I read a lot of TG accounts. Before I get too analytical here, let me say some other things. I am SO glad that Carole was able to spend all that time with you.
I am glad you're not sorry that you undertook the RLE. I put out all the strong feeling I can from my chair here, to let you know that you are loved, by me and by others here. I am glad you're feeling a little better today.

That experience was about as bad as it gets, CJ. Short of physical violence, which you've been through before, this was the worst that can happen. To get such a concentrated dose of it would have my head spinning, too. I have sat in support group and listened to a lot of fulltime women speak, and nothing I have heard there has ever come close to what you've said here. I have had my bad days out there, too, and one of them I wrote about. But again, nothing like this. Add to this the hundreds of accounts I've read from sisters online over the years, and I think I've got a fairly accurate picture. You will probably not experience anything as extreme as this again.

I don't expect this to be comforting at the moment, and of course I have no hard evidence to back up my statement. But I do feel that I've spent my own time out there in the trenches, and my passibility or lack thereof is probably on the same scale as yours. Add to that we both have "people skills" that we've developed from either being in business or counseling others, and that counts for a lot. You were temporarily "disabled" in your ability to draw on those skills, but they go a long way toward stopping the momentum that started to happen here. I can only explain it that way; that once you are "wounded," then people can sense the vulnerability, and they attack.

The feelings that put you on this path to begin with are not going to go away; that much we know. You'll be out there again, as Christina, and there are no guarantees as to what you'll find when you go. But this is a way of life for you and me, and we do accept all the things that go with it, good, bad, and in-between.

Speaking just for myself, for a moment--I've tried a lot of different paths, and they have led me to this one. As strange and difficult as it is, it continues to work better than any others I came up with in the past.
I think you've come to the same conclusion, so you are going to need to see how best to move forward from here. You may have to rest for awhile; there's no shame in that. I'm glad you've got Marie and Carole around you at this time.

[DonnaT]

Sorry to hear things fell apart the last day, CJ. I reckon a number of transwomen et al. have similar days. Maybe or maybe not to that extreme.

Overall, I figure your mini RLE was quite a success. You got to experience the highs and lows, all in a week. It would have been misleading, had there not been any lows.

Now, you have to do what all those transwomen do every day, find the courage to face the world again, because you know, deep down, you can't simply turn it off and deny your true self.

[SharonRose]

CJ,

I'm glad you decided to take a few days before fully assessing how your week went.

It took alot of courage to take those difficult steps, to immerse yourself in this for a week. You will be a stronger person for having done it.

Now the next step is up to you.

Just remember we are all here to support you.

Big hug,

Sharon

[Marlena Dahlstrom]

CJ, I'm so sorry to hear you last day fell apart like it did. If it's any consolation, I think there's a couple silver linings to be found.

Better that you discovered sooner rather than later that you and your therapist aren't on the same wavelength.

You encountered some of your worse fears and survived. Again, in a way it's better you ran into the issue of not being seen as a woman now, rather than after having made a more substantial commitment to living en femme. It's hard learning experience, but a learning experience nonetheless -- not only how well you think you might be able to handle it if it happens again, but also on what might have caused you to be read.

I'm giving you some tough-love here, and I feel bad about doing so, but I'd ask you to step back if you can and take a hard look at your presentation that day -- not only your appearance, but your attitude -- to see what might have tipped people off. For example, you mentioned people did pick up on your red, long-polished nails. They're attractive and femmy, but also can be attention-getting. It's hard to do this -- I've done it myself after getting read, so I know how hard it is -- but it's how I learned to improve my presentation.

I'd also ask you to take a look at your behavior. When you passed the street person who made fun of you, did you look like someone who was ashamed, someone she could safely make fun of? Were those folks on the subway really being scornful, and if they were, was it because they saw someone who seemed to be feeling worthy of their scorn? I know it's tough to hold your head high under those circumstances, but my experience is that while there's always jerks, most people will take their cues from you. If you act like you deserve respect, my experience is you often get it. It is hard to do under trying circumstances, but that's when it matters the most.

Anyway, I'm not trying to make you feel worse, like you failed to present yourself properly, or failed to handle the situation properly. Rather I'm hoping you can take an obviously painful experience and figure out what you can take away from it for next time.

Just remember, courage isn't the absence of fear, it's being terrified and still moving ahead anyway.

[CJ]

Hi all,

Okay, a few comments... a "debriefing," if you will.

Keeping in mind the excellent and thoughtful comments made here in the last couple of days, I'm coming to the conclusion that people are generally far less comfortable with ambiguity than they are with any type of "either/or" gender presentation--regardless of the "presenter's" sex. In other words, people will more easily "stomach" a man who looks like a woman or a woman who looks like a man than they will an individual of either sex who looks like neither or both.

Wednesday was "successful" for me, not because I passed as a woman (like I said further up in this thread, I have no illusions about my ability to do so--I lack the physique and I lack the experience); no, it was successful because, regardless of my anatomical sex, most people could figure out what "presentation" I was aiming for (i.e., a woman). This is reassuring to them; it inscribes itself into our binary thinking when it comes to gender expression. Thus, they were much more tolerant (as in, "here's someone who's at least trying to look like a woman," you know?). However, I was not trying to look like a woman on Friday morning; I was somewhere in between. Dressed on the feminine side of androgyny, wearing very little makeup, and with my hair not done in any particularly feminine style, I caught people off guard. The way I looked troubled them by jostling their preconceptions about what a man or a woman should look like or how a man or woman should behave. This "in-betweenness" I "wore" on Friday rankles sexual sensibilities much more than full-fledged crossdressing does. It's an outright attack on the binary logic so dear to the sexual fundamentalists we are (and I'll be creating a topic on that subject in a few minutes).

This, for example, is what bothers people about Michael Jackson (I mean, aside from the consideration of any possible sexual misdeeds); in the way he presents himself, he's not a man. But neither is he a woman. In our mind, we try to "make him fit" into one category or the other. And we consistently fail. Miserably so. And this failure generates, first, a certain unsettled anxiety, and then, often, an anger born of our inability to circumscribe the King of Pop's true nature and of our being confronted with the inadequacy of our own stereotypical views of gender presentation. We desperately want him to be one or the other, but not both (or neither, as is most likely his case).

This is what happened to me last Friday. In a way, I became a stand-in for Michael Jackson. The unresolvable ambiguity of my appearance rankled many. Wednesday, on the other hand, it was obvious to most people that, though a man, I was aiming for a recognizable pole of the either/or gender binary logic. Although, to be sure, this bothers some folks, it certainly bothers them less than their not being able to tell what I'm trying to be.

Anyway, I'll be saving further comments for the thread I want to create on that topic.

Anita,

You're right; people skills matter and my own such skills very much come in handy. I know that what I look like (when crossdressed) makes a lot of people uncomfortable. It's exactly at this point that I need to draw on who I am (rather than merely on what I look like) to put people at ease. I'll admit it's easy for me, though. I love people. I really do. We're all so weird, each in our own wonderful way. The kind of experience I had on Friday will have no more power to sour me up on people than did my being assaulted all those years ago while crossdressed.

No, it's not necessarily people's reactions that bothered me on Friday so much as it is the therapist's views of who I am. Within mere minutes of our first introducing ourselves to each other, he managed to reduce my identity to a mere matter of sexual dysfunction. Apparently, my identity longings are nothing a little extra masturbation couldn't fix. His saying this to me floored me. He doesn't even know who I am or what my history is or what I long to get out of life or how I see myself. For a TG counsellor, it seems to me his inability to distinguish between sexual drive and gender identity is an appaling lack on his part. It certainly doesn't inspire any great confidence in his abilities as a counsellor to people who are dealing specifically with gender identity and expression issues. But I'll be patient (and continue to fork over my money) at least until such a time as I'm able to determine whether or not this so-called professional has a flexible enough view of human beings to be able to help them truly.

Anyway, Anita, I want to tell you how much I appreciate your input. I know you put a hell of a lot of yourself in your posts (as do so many others here) and this contributes not only to the richness of the forum itself but to my own personal edification, too. Thanks.

Marlena,

Thanks. I also appreciate your "tough love" (and, trust me, it's nowhere near as tough as you fear it is--the "love" part shines through much more). I think that maybe you were under the impression that I was trying to pass as a woman on Friday. I'm sorry if I gave that impression (and I can see how my post would lead one to believe that) but I really wasn't, even though I was exhibiting slightly more feminine gender cues than masculine ones. You know, I still feel some ambivalence about being "locked in" to either looking like a man or looking like a woman. Both are prisons for the soul, I find. Especially for someone like me, who has no strong allegiance or commitment to either gender. Passing as a woman, for me, is a desire that has much playfulness about it. Now, maybe what I need to also learn is how to be able to engage my own sense of play when "passing as a man." It's doable. My therapist said that I need to learn to "play society's game" and not worry so much about changing the world. Of course, being who I am, I then asked him if I needed to step on my own toes, to forsake my own self, in order to do so. "We'll talk in January," he replied. Indeed, we'll talk.

Again, thanks, Marlena, for your input. It's valuable to me.

Kyra (I miss you, Sis!), Sharon Rose, Donna, and all the others who contributed here... one word: thanks. From the bottom of my heart.

Love,
CJ

[Absaroka]

CJ

Thanks for posting all this. I have enjoyed reading it, even the parts where I really felt for you. SOunds like your RLE has given you a great amount of food for thought which means it was quite the success.

I'm sorry Friday was so painful. I'm also very glad you posted it. Because I imagine these things can happen a lot. We hear so much positive stuff here that it is good to be reminded that doing this is going to be very hard at times.

You are not what people say you are, good or bad. You are who you are.

As for what bums and strangers said, you've probably heard equally hateful things in total guy mode if you think about it. I certainly have and not always from helpless homeless people. Sometimes it's from teenage boys in groups and I have had to really ask myself just how suicidal I feel today as I consider confronting them. These things happen and they say more about the people saying them than the recipient of the abuse. But they still suck.

Thanks again

Andrea

[KarenW]

You had alot of courage to do this mini. Did you get the answers you were hoping for? I have been half-keeping up with your experience. But now am going to go back and read all of your posts. It takes me back to the only times I have really been out, at Eureka Springs and the event there. My, how the first year was a blast. If folks were looking, gawking and pointing, laughing, the excitement of the affair kept me from noticing it. It went downhill from there. The next year, I kind of keyed in on those stares and was somewhat uncomfortable. It was more traumatic than anything. And the third year, it was 'lord help us Jesus' from a family I encountered on the street. Even though I had just recieved two glorious comments from some ladies in another store, that part of it devastated me. Made me want to go waaaaay back into the closet deep.

That whole feeling of being some sick f*&k unworthy to live just got to me. I had to back up and ask myself, is THIS what I want for myself, what in the world am I doing here? For a second , I was 'back in my mind' and the way I was dressed seemed to be some kind of 'temporary insanity', if you will. It was like going from being this totally respected, often accoladed man to being not worth the gum under somebody's shoe. TG has a long way to go.
Sounds like it was 'rolling on you' from early Friday morning. Like there was this force operating against you.
But it still took guts -of-steel to do what you did. I fantasize about doing that but am liable to go to my grave with it being just that, fantasy.

[Carolynn]

Awww, C.J. I just returned to a real functioning computer and checked up on this thread. First, let me say I fully understand how you felt Friday after the therapist visit. I'm not sure I have ever mentioned it, but I went through three therapists to find one that takes me seriously, and who knew their a-- from the proverbial hole in the ground. The first wanted me to "help him learn how to help me" in other words wanted me to educate him even though he advertised transgender as a specialty (he lied), the second sounded very much like your therapist and tried to override my needs with downhome, bonhomme, back slapping macho bull, and the third told me it would take a year of weekly appointments and he could see his way clear to write me the letter I wanted. He did not care about me as a client, I was a pay check every damn week.

I am not sure it is pertinent, but the first three were male, and like it or not, I am challenged by being faced by a male and tend to respond as I have been trained/trained myself to do for the last 60 odd years. My current therapist is a woman, a couple of years younger than myself, and has a track record of successful transitions and is insightful. She has a partner, a psychiatrist (male), who sits in on the sessions often, and will be my second letter. I relate to her far better that he even after a year, and we three have discussed my reactions to him when he is sitting in. We agree that it is something I will have to learn to get over, that automatic response to a male. On the other hand, the good doctor does have the kindest, warm brown eyes, and I can see that in the future I could be enchanted by someone else with similar eyes!!!

I am about 50% full time (not at work), and I have experienced what seemed to be days from hell where I just wanted to go home and go to bed. One was at a mall in Oklahoma City, and I knew I just should have stayed home when I got out of the car, and that was the high point!!! I have always had a self esteem problem, and when I am having one of those days, it seems like everyone else knows it and reacts accordingly to knock you through the floor with snickers, stares, and pointing. So C.J., I do so much understand your feelings. There is nothing more hurtful to me than to be laughed at, when I am sincere. I am wondering if that was your experience Friday? How was your mood, really, when you awakened? It was early, were you optomistic about your day or uncertain? How much did the "therapist" person affect your self confidence?

I like your insights into how you were dressed, but, and this is the big BUT--- at no time C.J. did you deserve the treatment you got because of how you were dressed--you were not asking for it--,and you sure didn't deserve the "therapists" "advice". It bordered on abuse, IMHO!! Based on my own experience, I would not be darkening that quack's door again to waste my time and money, not in January, not ever!!!!!

Most importantly, don't EVEN think it is your fault and you got what you deserved, 'cause you did not deserve that kind of treatment, not from him, nor from the people you encountered.

Do not give credence to your father's words about preparing to be a martry, he is not you nor is he trained nor inclined to help or understand people like you and me. And he is affected by your place as his child.

I have known several folks that tried androgeny, trying to integrate their "sides", and darn it, it just does not seem to work for long. Just a stop gap. You know as well as anyone that your feelings are not going away. They will just be back, and they may well be more intense than before. Don't go back to hiding from them, if you were. Pull up your bootstraps, put on a tasteful dress or power suit, decent heels, tasteful makeup, fix your hair, and go shopping with your girlfriends, and to hell with Friday!! I have learned it's the only way to respond to those days, after a suitable period of crying on a friends shoulder. OK, that enough of that crying, so get with it!!!!


Your a rare person C.J., and I do love you for that.

Carolynn