I am happy to report that I’ve come out to another person I work with and the results were wonderful. I had a feeling that this person would be okay to tell, but she has really been quite amazing since I revealed my “secret” to her. As I come out to more and more of my close friends and acquaintances I’m finding it a bit easier to let go of the fear I’ve had about this for so many years. I cannot discount how the world has changed from 15 years ago (one of my first realizations that I was moving in the wrong direction sex wise) so I can’t say that I would have received such open arms had I come out then, but part of me is wishing I would have done this sooner. With that being said I’m not going to let regrets cast a shadow over such a wonderful development in my life. I now have friends (PLURAL!!) at work who know about the real me, and that is doing wonders for my confidence. Having people who accept and support me makes this so much easier to handle, and I suspect it will make the official coming out process at work go more smoothly (when that time comes).
I find myself dwelling on that day more and more lately. Just as I also find myself dwelling on the conversation I’m going to eventually have to have with my mother. Both of these conversations are worrisome to consider, simply because of the consequences they can have on my life as a whole. I keep envisioning in my mind how they will go, what I will say, and how the others will react. It probably does me no good to focus so far into the future (steals away the present moment) but I can’t seem to help myself from doing it, especially as I lie in bed at night (/yawns, literally). I suspect that when all is said and done, I’ll look back and laugh about all the anxiety I felt about these conversations. Hopefully I’ll be able to look back and shake my head at how I worried for nothing because everything turned out for the best. I know deep down that it will turn out for the best no matter what the outcome is because I’ll be living a life true to myself.
Anyways, I go to see my new therapist for our first official session of counseling tomorrow, (last week was just the initial consultation) and I honestly cannot wait. I’m eager to see what she has to say after (hopefully) reading this blog/online journal and to get some time to talk openly about the things I’ve been thinking about/feeling. Because of her background professionally and personally with transgender issues, I’m anxious to know what she thinks about what I’ve written here and how it reflects on my level of transgenderness (yep, made that word up, you are welcome). I mean, I feel like I already know that I’m definitely a girl trapped in a male body, but having someone outside of me who knows a good deal about the phenomena actually confirm it to me feels important. I don’t know why. Perhaps that means I’m not as trans as I think I am, but I feel like my past record of bouncing around from one religion to the next means that I need some reassurances that I won’t just magically get over this. I don’t know how I could, honestly, not when it’s become an all-consuming obsession over the last few weeks but I still want the confirmation. I wonder if this is something other trans people experience. Do they seek a counselor to tell them, “Yes, you really are a female, my good man,” or is that just me?
Ultimately I suppose it doesn’t matter what anyone else’s opinion is (even a therapist’s) as long as I know it on my own, and I feel like I do know it. I just hope I know it more than I “knew” the book of Mormon was true (/shakes head in disappointment at former self). Actually, the more stories I come across of other transgendered people, the more my whole “religion of the week” phases seem to make sense. It seems that I am not alone in my efforts to find some sort of solidarity through organized religion in an effort to “overcome” my gender dysphoria. I guess hiding a part of one’s self from the world frequently manifests in feeling a need to have something outside of yourself come in and fill the gap. But like a round peg trying to fill in a square hole, “God” never could measure up nor could “he” ever take away the pain I felt inside.
Speaking of that pain, lately I’ve noticed it less, and I’ve been feeling less “incomplete” than I used to. In times past it was always there, even when I was generally happy. There was always this sense of sadness lurking below the surface and now, that sadness is MIA (most of the time. Sometimes it comes back when I become discouraged about how “manly” I look in the mirror). I can’t adequately express what a relief it is to have that sadness/pain mostly gone. I’m hopeful that one day soon, the wound I’ve been burying for years under denial, fear, and sadness will finally heal. I very much want that. I very much want to be free and to be me, the beautiful and amazing Emma.
Much love here right now. =)