Friends.

I've been meaning to update this thing for awhile now, just haven't had the time. I'm apparently more active now than I was as a guy. And much more to accomplish too. It wasn't so long ago that sedentary activities filled in a sort of morbid boredom. Now, when I'm not fairly exhausted, I have too much to do for the immediate future.

The biggest difference recently has been coming out to the rest of my friends. I've pretty much told everyone except for my family and work and its actually been extremely cathartic and gratifying experience all around. Everyone has been perfectly fine with it, I have not lost a single friend, and in many ways I feel closer to most of them because i can finally let them know me. There hasn't been anyone who has tried to talk me out of it. One friend asked me questions in a devil's advocate type way, and having had decades to think about this I think I had some good answers for him. His concern was that he liked Joe as a person and that he would be upset if I threw that away with contempt. I explained to him that Joe the persona wasn't really a person and that I have only one personality, but the face I've been putting on all these years was more of a defense mechanism than my full personality. This seemed to make sense.

It was difficult getting over my initial fear, but that increasingly faded as I told more people and socialized with them. Another hard part is that it sort of feels like meeting yourself. You show all your friends one persona whom they get to know, and when you show them your new one, the reflection of your old persona is cast back at you. When both halves of yourself meet this way, only one can survive, and i think my new persona will eventually win out in the perceptions both myself and my friends. The clash in the mean time can be somewhat uncomfortable sometimes. It's very much worth it, and valuable to resolving who and what I really am.

I think much of my success so far might have to do with two main factors. The first is just having great friends, which is probably most of this game. The other is that I seem noticeably happier and more social as Shannon then ever as a guy. And for any friends who happen to stumble across this post, I hope they know how their acceptance makes me thankful beyond words.

Many of my friends have known me as Joe for decades. To expect them to see me as female overnight I think is a fairly unrealistic goal. And not even really the most important to me. While several have completely embraced the new me by calling me Shannon and actually treating me differently (in a good way), there are a good number who still call me Joe and treat me exactly as they did before. While it would just be the tits if everyone would see me as I wish to be seen, I'm honestly extremely grateful that this revelation does not effect how some of my friends think of me at all. I think that's more important. Maybe in the future I will earn from them the perspective I would most want. However, I would never dream of insisting. As far as what to call me I tell everyone to call me as they see me and that they can even call me "asshole" if they want (so long as i know they're talking to me). If they can be tolerant of me I think it's only fair to forgive most jokes, honest frank opinions and refusals to use my chosen name. I've always been fairly difficult to offend and probably as a result, very few people try.

So, for the most part, only my family and job is left to tell. I plan on getting a better job. That's also when I plan on telling my family. I may tell them sooner though because the closer I get to full time, the more the obstacles in the way become less effective at impeding me.

Exist.

As previously mentioned, one of the things I've always been terrified of has been discovery. Through the encouragement of a friend who's done the same, I came out to a great friend this week.

At first she thought i might be playing some sort of elaborate prank on her. I even had to send her a pic of my chest... but she eventually believed me. I had to tell this person first... She'd tried harder than anyone to get to know me for YEARS, and as a guy I am completely impossible to know and extremely exasperating to say the least. When I told her, she accepted me perfectly with open arms. More so than any other time in my life, I didn't feel alone. At once my deepest darkest fears and secrets just washed away which is probably one of the most freeing thing anyone might experience. And she wants to go shopping.

We originally met during college orientation, and it's only fitting that we re-met tonight as I re-orientate. She really filled me with confidence, but on other hand, the meeting itself was a bit nervracking for me at first. I think she likes me better this way on most levels, because dealing with me as a guy is so much less open and normal (The extremes I need to go to to be NORMAL! ) It was probably one of the most normal interactions we've ever had and if anything really feel much closer to her than ever, and I think she feels the same. We definitely have more reasons to hang out and talk.

It amazes me how much letting someone know has relieved me of all the pent up fear. For once not to have anything all to hide made me feel like the whole world had suddenly become much more vivid. The way i've felt this week has also shown me how as a guy I was becoming progressively and emotionally dead inside. Almost like my male persona was a filter that would only show a fraction of the color in life. With a convienient dimmer. The only way i had for people to even remotely get to know me was always through action, and beyond that there was nothing _real_ to get to know, just a tin guard. I spent my whole life building a guard to imprison my own joy. Once that guard is dismantled, theres very little of what I was as a man remaining. I'm really looking forward to finally hatching, I think ive been incubating way too long and was on the verge of being a bad egg.

I find suddenly being capable of a whole range of emotions i was closed off from sort of intimidating, but exhilarating. If I never tried, I feel i'd be wasting my soul. I can't wait to really be.

Rape.

My next blog post was going to be about how I came out to a good friend the other day and how amazing it went. And also how happy and for the first time maybe ever not so alone in the world.

Instead I'm going to explain tonight and a couple events it reminded me of.

I went out to a club which i've been enjoying this summer. I went there tonight feeling very confident and probably a bit more dressed up than usual. The bouncer seemed genuinely surprised when he saw my ID, which i suppose at a gay club could be considered props. So i was feeling pretty warm and fuzzy when I hit the bar. I started talking to a Lebanese fellow for awhile and he seemed nice enough. We went for a walk around the club and found ourselves in the corner of the upstairs vacant area and I should know better.

There have been two other times in my life that I have been nearly raped (or worse). If you've ever wondered how to avoid a rape and leave your assailant in possible tears, this is what worked for me.

When I was much younger, I used to go to some areas of NYC which weren't quite so safe. One time I was attacked on a side street in the middle of the night in Hells Kitchen. Go figure... I had a knife to my throat, I was pinned against the wall and I couldn't stand back up because I could barely walk well in the tight shoes I was wearing. Luckily, I've never been the type to panic. I'm not sure if he thought I was a guy or not, but one thing is for sure he didn't know who he was fucking with. I remember in classes about how rape was always described as a "control" issue, and this seemed to be about accurate. However, I think the key to escape relies not in self defense and whistles entirely but instead on something really difficult to pull off in that situation, compassion. He was living some sort of fantasy. So was I in a different way. I tried to pretend to be his fantasy woman, and at first tried to fight him. Then pretended to just get weak and let him hold me to the ground. Then, I kissed him. I forced my tongue into his mouth and pushed his head back. I stroked the back of his neck and grabbed his hair. I bit his neck, flipped him on his back banging his skull on the blacktop. I pulled down my skirt and in a Very male voice told him to SUCK IT. He promptly stopped. I called him an asshole, stood up, fixed myself and walked away.

The next time was in a club called Eidelweiss in NYC. That time seemed much less dangerous. He'd been following me around the whole night, cornered me, grabbed be and wouldn't let me go. I couldn't break his grip. He was clearly erect. And I was very uncomfortable. He was pretty drunk. He kept telling me how beautiful I was, and other nonsensical gibberish. So, long story short, I had to stay there, stroke his bald head and tell him everything was OK for about 20 minutes. And fortunately that was good enough.

Tonight, the guy stood in front of a pillar and pinned me against the balcony edge. I couldn't move. He dropped my skirt and pulled himself out. and rubbed himself on me. I tried to say "stop," "Um, this place is sorta public," 'NO!" and tried to shuffle away from him. He held me closer. Then, I remembered that almost everyone I've ever met from the middle east was at least a slight germaphobe. I told him that this was gross. That he was gross. And he let me go. Whew.

I went downstairs to get a drink. A group of three gay guys surrounded me. They told me I was pretty, that i looked like linsey lohan, started touching my hair, said that they were going to call the cops on me because I was drinking. Then they wanted to see my breasts. They said, "come on, just show us once and we wont harass you for the rest of the night." I asked them if they were ever picked on in high school and told them that thats kind of how I was feeling at that moment and to leave me alone. So one of them grabbed me from the front, another from behind and just started rubbing themselves on me. I held up my hands and pushed them away while the third took a picture. "Great, Lindsey, I'm gonna put that one on my myspace...We love you." Another said, "I think she hates us." and then they walked away.

I went into a different corner by myself and sort of felt like crying. I wonder if that's the hormones.

Tights.

Being Transgendered is not too unlike being a Superhero.

• Both live with secret identities and live exciting double lives.
  


• Both fear that if their secrets are revealed it will end up hurting family
  and loved ones.
  


• Both often need to get changed in odd locations.
  


• Both do things normal people don't do.
  


• Both often find themselves teams or groups to support them (TG's should have
  more teams than they do IMHO).
  


• Both usually have a nemesis which is in opposition to all their goals and
  hopes. (in TG's this enemy is most often themselves).
  


• Both have one weakness which largely defines them.
  


• Both form strange trust relationships and almost no one really gets to know
  them fully (ala Smallville).
  


• Both are often feared as freaks in society.
  


• Both endeavor to correct particular injustices and right wrongs.
  


• Both consider their costumes to be important, symbolic and distinctive.
  


• Both must be extremely brave to succeed.
  


• Both represent the fight for ideals and doing what you are able to achieve
  them.
  
  

I currently live a double life. I am Female pretty much all the time except for when I'm at work, or around people who know me as a male. I have seriously always had major closeted fears that have hampered me for long as I can remember. Increasingly, readjusting my apartment, having 2 schedules, going to work in drab, and keeping it all secret are finally beginning to take effect. In addition, i don't think i've ever felt this happy and well balanced the more and more I transition. This daily inconvenience and joy continues to melt all of the apprehensions I've built over time. I feel myself really looking forward to not having the terrible burdens I've lived with all this time. I am so unbelievably excited about the day when there will only be one me and that it is the me I want.

Balls.

For the most part, I've never been the type who scares or worries easily. In my school days, this contributed to the trouble I constantly found myself in. Bullies avoided me because I was too much trouble. I rarely shied away from a dare and was outspoken enough to say things people wanted to say but were afraid to.

Why?

Balls of course. Balls are a Transgender MTF's primary distinguishing feature in many ways. This is by necessity. Not only just because without them we'd be girls... but also because in comparison to the terrible fear of your trans nature being exposed, everything else is fairly mundane. Most kids go through their rebellious stage in their teens, while TG's need to start much earlier. They need to know how to stash clothes away from prying mothers, find places and privacy to express themselves, put on make-up and remove it without a trace, read their sisters seventeen mags, and always have a plan for when things go wrong. Always be able to hold your composure when your heart is beating in your ears. Practically from birth, TG's are grown to be devious and ninja like. Ninjas might have a wise old master, but in the days before the BBS or internet, a young TG was primarily a support system of one. No one could know. And when you finally are old enough to venture out, you learn from hard embarrassing mistakes. There's nothing quite like being thrown out of a fitting room... So, if your balls are larger than your shame, you too may have a future as a TG.

When I first started going out in public (way back when), I used to get changed in my car. This had led to several awkward moments with befuddled police officers which I talked my way out of. I used to take the bus to New York get changed in a men's room somewhere and explore the city. I have walked many many miles in badly fitting high heels in Hell's Kitchen (before I knew what Hell's Kitchen was) at all hours. I've seen some REAL seedy clubs and surreal places and people. I've had strange romances. I've been followed and threatened by crazy pimps and crack whores. Yep, it can take balls to be TG. Aside from the moments like these and countless others I've had in skirts, I don't think I've ever had cause to be afraid as a man in my life.

I read recently that TG's are on average slightly more intelligent than most people. I wonder if this has more to do with growing up so devious, having so much adventure and having nothing but your wits to get you in and out of all manner of situations. This also, seems to have some commonalities to profiles of serial killers. No regrets though, I'd rather wear panties than torture animals any day.

These days, I'm hoping to retire my balls and be a normal girl. But I'll always have the memories and maybe some scars.

Facade.

The obligatory introduction seems a good way to start this blog. Who I am is an interesting question. I suppose expressing myself in this blog and getting feedback might help me explore the answer to that. I used to think I knew, only to realize my growth as a person has somewhat halted. If it sounds like I'm avoiding the question, that's been part of the problem. The inescapable feeling that you were born the wrong gender sort of encourages this.

The inclination toward changing sexes has always been with me for as long as I can remember. I started going out in public as a female (when I could) in my late teens and eventually stopped in my mid-twenties. I thought that I had finally gotten a grip on myself, and the rationalizations made quite a bit of sense and lasted several years. I'd become much more like a brain in a jar in certain ways in how I viewed my body. I convinced myself that to transition from male to female would be harmful in several ways such as:

1. It would involve destroying parts of my body both surgically and chemically. This seemed at the time to be a bad health decision.
2. My potential professionally was probably better as a male rather than a transsexual. While I like the ideal that business will be so accepting, I do not believe the world is this way.
3. It seemed like a selfish thing to do. It would certainly hurt my family. Although I believe most of my friends would probably be quite accepting of my decision, they would probably not be able to associate with me in the same way as before or might be somewhat upset with me for making them look like freaks by connection.
4. I'd read that in your late twenties, you're supposed to go through a sexual stabilization where who you are gets more ironed in. This turns out not to be a very effective iron.
5. As a normal male, my options are fairly open. As a transsexual, there is a sense of diminishing returns. Almost like I'd be throwing away the life I've been building to make one that didn't have the same potential because it started so late in the game.

Recently, this rationalization has worn off.

I've come to realize that even though my options are open, I have no real desire to pursue any of them as a male. Sure I can... but the ambition has no passion in it. Achieving goals doesn't pay off in any way that matters because the life I'm leading will never lead any where I WANT to be, only to the places I end up at the end of tasks. This might land me in interesting spots, but why should I care if I can't truly be the person who would enjoy such a place. Personal relationships are pretty similar in that no one knows me. Not even me anymore.

I'm just over thirty right now and this does have a decent amount to do with this decision. If I picture myself a 40 year old man or a 40 year old woman, there is absolutely no possibility that I would be a happy man. Even if I were rich and had the best people around me and lived in a peaceful beautiful world... the only thing that would make me happy would be becoming a woman. There is no real choice in the matter and have deluded myself into thinking that the facade I've built over the years would ever become a real person. The only way to become a better person is to allow myself my heart's desire.