There are a lot of areas in which my life interweaves with “the guy”. It makes it difficult at the least and almost insurmountable at it’s worst. Little things add up and can take a toll on your psyche. I spend all day in the company of what is the essential enemy. There are only one or two people who would be sympathetic, but not an ally. The rest would be calling for my resignation (senior management, the whole lot of them) and looking for ways to get me out. So I am there all day, contemplating the price of just being me. It must be nice to be a person who doesn’t have to do this, that can go on blithely through their days never worrying about how others might react to them.
Then I return home, and I want to get comfortable, so I change out of my business clothes and into a pair of shorts and a tshirt. I don’t have long hair, I keep it cut short because of my position. So I would love to put my hair on, to feel just a bit more like me. But now I have to think about how my wife and my daughter will react after seeing me come in as “the guy”. Or if we order pizza, or a vehicle pulls up into the drive looking for directions, a pizza man delivering our pizza, how will they react? I don’t have makeup on, I have a 5 o’clock shadow and I’m wearing a wig, wearing womens shorts and a tshirt. Even I think I look ridiculous.
So, during the entire week I wear only what I can get away with, womens jeans and panties, the rest are mens clothes. I don’t wear my hair, except for a few really early mornings when I have time. I worry about how I look, it bothers me that everyone sees “the guy”. But “the guy” is who they accept as me, while Beth is what they believe (if they know) is some kind of temporary thing or what I might pull out for parties. (I don’t)
If I transition, the fear is that I still don’t get to be me, I get to be some version of “the guy” with boobs and in a dress. If my penis is gone, testes are removed, breasts enhanced, I am still somehow “the guy”. It’s not going to stop me, from transitioning, but it’s a real fear that I have.
I have spent my entire life wanting to be loved for who I truly am. I dreamed about my body magically turning into a woman overnight, or hoped that when I woke that I had this nightmare about being stuck in a boys body. Now, I won’t know if they love me, or the man that I have pretended to be all my life.