Fears
Thailand: Day 27 – The End of One Journey, the Beginning of Another
My last full day in Bangkok, and my last Sunday here. I decided I wanted to attend church at the Bangkok campus of Lifepoint Church. Lifepoint Church is where I gave 6 years of volunteer service to make Sundays a place where people could come worship Jesus, before they told me I was not allowed to come to the church, any campus, dressed as a woman. I thought it would be quite poetic that I was attending a 3rd campus, not only dressed as a woman, but with a full female body too. Oh the irony.
All that aside, I got up, got myself ready, and went down and ate breakfast before grabbing a taxi over to the church campus. The driver had a little trouble finding the place because he had never been there, but Google Maps led us right to the front door and I arrived about 15 minutes before the service started. I walked in, only to be greeted by a familiar face from my hometown. She thought she recognized me but felt like she couldn’t put a name to the face. I told her my name, but it still wasn’t ringing a bell for her. Fair enough, because she hadn’t seen me in about 2 years, a LOT had changed in those 2 years, and she didn’t know my new name.
I then saw another woman that I knew from my hometown as well. She too thought I looked familiar but couldn’t quite place the name or face. It was then that I told them my old name. At that point, both their eyes lit up, their jaws dropped, and they both exclaimed, “WOW!!!!” I love seeing that reaction on peoples’ faces because it reinforces the notion that when I’m being myself, they absolutely can not tell that I have ever tried to be anything else than who they see in front of them. I am natural in who I am.
After a little bit of chatting, I found a place to sit and waited for the service to start. The worship team came out and prepared for the music portion of the service. There was a guy playing acoustic guitar, a girl singing with a shaker, and another girl singing as well. It was very much an acoustic version of what I was used to, but it was nice to have that change of pace for once. The music was great, and the songs familiar. I even got to sing a song in Thai. I have no idea what I was saying, but it was pretty cool just to be able to hear some sing in English and some sing in Thai. Truly a wonder of global worship.
When the music was over, the pastor came up and introduced himself. He would speak a few sentences, then wait for the translator to translate what he said. This was the M.O. of the entire service and was interesting to say the least. I can’t help but think that more sermons would be better understood if the pastor had the same amount of time as always, but was forced to slow down and make sure that every word counted. This is what happens when you have to wait for the translator.
The sermon was on Exodus chapter 2, where it was explained who Moses was and how he came about. The sermon touched on the fact that Moses’ parents knew he was wonderful, not because that’s what every parent thinks about their children, but because they belonged to the tribe of Levi and they had faith that God had a plan. When Moses was a baby, Pharaoh called for the death of every baby boy born within the last month. He did this because he did not want the Israelites to grow a strong army. The sermon also touched on how his parents tried to hide him until they could no longer hide him, not because they were afraid, but because they knew it was what they had to do. Eventually they gave in and threw baby Moses into the Nile River, but first they gave him a little boat to sail in.
This allowed them to follow the edict that Pharaoh had called for, but still allowing for God to work His plan, His way. Baby Moses ended up sailing up to the shore, right where Pharaoh’s daughter had come to bathe. When she found the baby, Moses’ sister was nearby watching to see what would happen. Pharaoh’s daughter noticed immediately that this was a hebrew child, and decided to keep him and make him her own son. Moses’ sister came up and asked if the princess would like her to find a hebrew woman to nurse the child. Being told to do so, his sister went and got his mother, unbeknownst to Pharaoh’s daughter. Pharaoh’s daughter then paid Moses’ mother to nurse and raise him until a time when he would come live in the palace.
There are a lot of parallels between the story of Moses and the story of Jesus, whom the entire bible is about. A king tried to have baby Moses killed, a king tried to have baby Jesus killed. God had a plan that saved Moses, God had a plan that saved Jesus. Moses had a purpose of freeing God’s people from slavery to Egypt, Jesus had a purpose of freeing God’s people from slavery to sin. The parallels go on and on, but what struck me was the irony of it all.
God used Hebrew women and Pharaoh’s own daughter to free the Israelites. Imagine that, in your life are two forces. Those that are telling you what to do that isn’t loving, honorable, or just, and God using you to do something bigger than yourself. What’s more ironic is God using Pharaoh’s own daughter to free the very Israelites he’s trying to keep down. I can relate. Called to follow Christ, everyone loved me as long as I looked like them, acted like them, and they could relate to me. As soon as God called me to work in a way that everyone else thought was wrong, all of a sudden I was no longer worthy to even be allowed into God’s house or to be considered part of a local church body, part of the family. In the end, my faith never changed and my love for others became greater. Sometimes God’s plan is funny, strange, and ironic.
Moses’ parents did not let their fear control them because they knew God had a plan. They fought their fear and stress with faith in God. When I was called to this new journey, I was scared. I wasn’t fearful, just unsure of what would come next, however, my faith in God helped me push through all the stress, allowing me to arrive on the other side. Now, just days away from the 2 year mark of this new journey, my life has become so much more, so much greater than I could have ever thought. I took a risk trusting the voice that I knew was God. Like always, it has paid off in a much greater way.
Every day we take risks. From the food we eat, to driving in traffic, to the people we meet, risk is all around us. Everything in life is a risk, but following God is a different kind of risk. The risk of following God has a huge reward. I can attest to this in my very life. I risked that I would be rejected, ostracized, bullied, assaulted, even murdered. My own family feared for my safety as I began this journey, but I had to use my own faith to assure them that God is in control. I still have my family with me. I still have my kids with me. I still have all the friends that really cared about me with me. I still have the ability to do my job. I am still alive, I am still breathing, I am a new person, not only in my heart, but physically as well.
So today, as I’m ending my journey in Thailand, I am beginning a journey of living out the new life that has been bestowed upon me. I am excited about what the future holds, finally feeling completely at peace with myself physically, and mentally. No longer will I deal with the hormone based depression that plagued me all my life. I am a new creation. No longer will I hold contempt in my heart for those who are different from me. I am a new creation. Compassion will rain down on others, from me, who struggle with this life they live in. I am a new creation.
I am a new creation, ready for this new leg of my journey.
Watch God be glorified in my new life.
A Fearless Existence
There is no such thing as a fearless existence.
Whether it’s the fear of being harassed, name called, physically assaulted, outed in a bathroom, attacked, breaking a heel, falling down and looking like an idiot, whatever it is, the fears will always be there, but with confidence you will stare down fear and you will win.
When you ask yourself what you’re afraid of, then track how often that happens, you’ll find most fears are unsubstantiated. But even after 10 months on hormones, 3 months living full time, and even 3 weeks post op FFS, I still walk into NY&Co and freak the crap out because “I” can see the black hairs trying to assert themselves on my face. I spend so much efforrt not making eye contact and not acting confident and normal that I find myself losing focus on what I’m doing and it’s actually worse than just ignoring the fear, and letting the chips fall where they may.
The Fish Hook
The fish hook is an interesting utensil.
I remember going fishing with my grandfather. I was no older than 5 or 6. Even after his death, I still fished with friends. It wasn’t my favorite thing to do but I got to hang out with other people so that was something. When I think of fishing I think of these memories and I think of the fish hook.
The fish hook always scared me because if you got it stuck in you, it hurt so much to pull it out. In fact, it’s designed not to come out once it goes through. It is a J shaped piece of metal that has a hoop on one end (where you tie the fishing line on) and a sharp point and barb on the other end. It’s a one way only utensil. That is where the scary part comes in. My grandfather told me how to remove a fish hook if I ever got one stuck in me. You take a pair of pliers, cut the loop end off and then push the hook through your skin and slide it out the other side. In other words, push it further through your skin to pull it out.
I never got a fish hook stuck in my skin, but I’ve seen the procedure happen to others, and while it was horrible to look at and painful for that person, they survived it and even better, came out better in the end than if they had tried to back the hook out. The barb on the hook would’ve torn up the skin and left a gaping wound.
So why are we talking about fish hooks Ashley?
I know people are always questioning me. I am always questioning me. I wouldn’t be human if I didn’t. When it comes to my dysphoria, my transition, my life, I am always wondering if I am doing the right thing. It doesn’t make sense. On the one hand it does, but on the other, it doesn’t. I often wondered why I couldn’t just back it out and remove the pain of needing to be a girl. I mean, I got into this somehow. Can I not just backup and be done with it? Can’t I just stop messing with the girl stuff, stop trying to dress like a girl, act like a girl, BE a girl?
Like that fish hook, the less painful and damaging way is to move forward and go through the process. See, if I back up the fish hook, that little barb on the end will tear up my skin. The mess it would leave behind would be big and nasty. However, pulling it out the other way, leaves a small hole where it went in and a small hole where it came out. I know if I would’ve fought my dysphoria more, I would’ve come to a place where I felt there was absolutely no hope in fixing it in this earthly life, and I may have succumbed to the same pressures that cause so many to take their lives before me. At the least, I would’ve been a terrible spouse, horrible parent, and ultimately, THAT, would’ve been my legacy. Moving forward allows me to heal. My body gets the neuro and hormonal chemicals it is expecting. I get to be authentic with others. I get to continue to live. Most of all, my children get a loving parent who is so alive that it rubs off on them and they are light for Jesus in this world too.
Yes, it hurts at time. However, the path I have chosen gives me the best opportunity to live an authentic, honest life with the least amount of damage, that brings the most glory to God above. Now I see why God wouldn’t let me keep trying to “back out”.
Dealing…
Woke up this morning and I am just feeling totally drained and depressed. I’m not sure if it has been staying up and out late this past week, or the being on vacation and not getting up at a decent hour and feeling productive, or the fact that I’m dealing with personal issues in my marriage that are tearing me apart. Whatever it is, it feels like the droning depression I had experienced for most of my life and I don’t like it. I don’t like it at all and want it to go away.
Before I started HRT, I felt this way all the time. Sometime it was negligible and sometimes it was crippling. When I started my HRT, within 2 days it went away and I figured it was a phase or my body getting used to a new chemical, or whatever. However, the feeling of euphoria never went away and 30 days later I was still on cloud nine. It wasn’t until my wife said in therapy that she didn’t love me anymore, she had grieved the person I was, that I wasn’t the same person anymore, and she wasn’t attracted to me and was ready to move on with her life, that the depression came back. I’m hoping the depression I feel now is situational and will subside over time. My dysphoria depression was always there and never went away until my mind was calmed with the right chemicals.
Today it’s getting close to crippling and it’s so hard to want to even think about doing anything. I want to just lay down and sleep the day away and hope that tomorrow will be better. I’m going to go out later and maybe that will make me feel better, but not really sure. Last night I was at a family member’s house and just wanted to be alone so that was frustrating.
It’s funny that my wife always said that I didn’t care who was in my life, as long as someone was. She found it odd that as long as someone was in the room with me, even if we weren’t communicating, it was enough for me. She was wrong and until now, I didn’t realize she was wrong. She always believed that I couldn’t tell her why I loved her and what it was about her that I loved, but I did one day. I have family all around me down here and I’m miserable without my family, without my wife and my kids.
I now know why the Israelites wanted to go back to Egypt and back to bondage after Moses made Pharaoh let them go. This time, in the wilderness, between what we knew and what we don’t know just sucks. Bondage, while sucky, is familiar and easy. I would give anything to have my old life back, but then I know I wouldn’t be happy and healthy and I would miss the wonders and joys the Lord wants to provide me with. I just miss her and want her back.
HRT Month 2:
Well, here we are 2 months into HRT. It’s bittersweet as I do not feel depression and anxiety from just living, but now my depression and anxiety are situational, mainly around specific events going on in my life now. When I have to deal with people who have trouble accepting me, then I wonder if this is worth it and will feel a little down. I just have to remember that it’s a slow, long process, and not everyone is going to get it.
As far as biological changes, I haven’t had much. I may not have balanced levels yet so it’s hard to know, but I do have a doctor appt. next week so we will see what my levels are at that point.
I did notice the past month how soft my forearms are, especially when I shave away all that course hair on them, but to be honest, I never really touched that part of my body before looking for how smooth the skin was so I don’t have a point of reference. I was standing in front of the mirror one day getting ready to get in the shower and I looked up and noticed that my nipples had gotten a little bit larger and I was taken back by it. I watched it for a while for the next few days and it definitely wasn’t just some anomaly. They are getting bigger.
I haven’t noticed much of anything in my hair changing or losing muscles so I guess I have to wait a little bit longer for those changes. When people say this is a long process, they are not lying. So here’s to another month of this journey.
Stayin’ Alive
Yes, can you believe it, I’m still alive.
I know my last post was a goodbye, but a lot has changed in the last 2 months. Shortly after that last post, my spouse and I had a good heart to heart and she couldn’t live with the thought of me suffering through being something I really wasn’t. Instead we decided to take things slow, make changes slowly and see what would help me feel better.
So with that being said, we have been cultivating a relationship of growth and communication for the past 2 months and we’re finally at a place where, I think, everyone is happy. Don’t get me wrong. It’s not all rainbows and unicorns. I sit helplessly by while C grieves the loss of her husband and I feel hopeless to be able to do anything to make her feel better. I know the only thing that will make her feel better is to either let the grieving happen or give up my transition and just force myself to be him. The problem with the latter is that I’m just not a good person when I’m strapped with the stress of my dysphoria. I think of nothing but myself and my worries and my mind can’t focus on other things. It’s tough in the interim to do the hard thing even though I know the future will be so much better. So I persevere through the tough times (Phillipians 3:14).
I am going to start up my status updates as my life is about to change drastically. Yep. I have my first HRT appointment this coming Friday and I am very nervous and excited all at once. I’m not sure what will happen. They may just look me over and figure out a regimen for me and then start something later or I may get my very first shot of Estrogen this week. There is also a chance they may only start me out on androgen blockers for a few months and then start E later. I’d be lying if I said I don’t mind waiting if I had to. The reports I hear from so many ladies that they felt instantly more aligned in their mind is either somewhat truthful or the largest placebo effect in medical history. I’d like to think it’s the former simply because the brain starts receiving chemicals it was designed to have, instead of being flooded with chemicals it doesn’t know what to do with. Also read that Estrogen has been used in people as an anti-depressant so there may be some truth in the medical accuracy of instant calming and aligning. I’ll have to keep you posted.
I’m also going to be starting a special project that will be 2 years in the making but when I’m done (assuming I can even do it), I should have a really great thing that will educate people and bring compassion to people who come to learn of me through it. I’ve always been one that loves to educate and loves to watch the lightbulb come on when someone understands something. I hope this project will give me the opportunity to experience that over and over again.
So here’s to the future!
A Weird Dream
Woke up Friday morning from a weird dream. I say it was weird because it was so realistic yet I remember all the vivid details of it (something I don’t often do).
I was at an amusement park on a date with C. We were going around having fun and we came across the boat ride (it was more like the log flume ride, but they had boats that sat 15-20 people per boat). So I was then all of a sudden the attendant of the ride helping people get on and off the ride and making sure everything ran smoothly. I helped a lot of people while C stood outside the ride, like she was waiting.
Soon it became my turn to ride and when I got on the boat, my boat was more like the size of a kickboard. I had a hard time staying on the boat and kept falling off into the water. I started going on the ride and I kept falling off my boat. I’d get back on, and then fall off. I got on and fell off about 3-4 times in the process of about 1/2 the ride. At that point I decided that it was pointless to keep getting on just to fall back off, because I was spending more time struggling to stay on instead of just enjoying the ride, even if it meant swimming and sliding the whole way.
As I was continuing on the ride, there were a group of people I went to high school with that were sort of like an angry mob running towards me outside the ride. I could hear them saying they were going to make me get on the boat and ride the ride properly. They never did catch me and I got to the end of the ride safely. When I got to the end, my mother was standing outside and she was mad. She kept saying, “Why didn’t you stay on the boat. You were supposed to stay on the boat.” I told her I tried to stay on the boat, but no matter how hard I tried, I kept falling off. C was there with her but C wasn’t mad at me. She was just there. I woke up after this and had to get my day started.
Later this morning, as I was driving, I asked God if that dream meant anything. I didn’t hear his voice like I have in the past, but this interpretation popped into my head.
The river of the boat ride represents life
The boat represents how I maneuver/get through life
The staying on and the falling off of the boat represents my gender dysphoria and the 2 diametrically opposed ways in which I can live my life (based on my biological sex or my gender identity).
The mob of high school people represents my circle of friends and acquaintances
My mom represents my extended family
C represents my marriage and kids.
In the dream I was was with C and then I started helping people get on and off the ride while she waited outside. I always love to help people if I am able. I like encouraging and lifting them up to enjoy life and not get so worked up over the little things that come our way. When it was my turn to ride the ride, the boat I was to use was really small. I think this represents the very rare nature of my dysphoria as it only affects about 1 in 2,500 people. I started by getting on the boat (biological sex) but fell off into the water (gender identity). I would get back on the boat, go a little further in the ride and then fall off again. I did this about 3 or 4 times and then got fed up with trying to stay on the boat and just decided to swim and slide the rest of the way. My whole life has been a huge struggle in this area. Being jealous of girls because I could identify with them, but because my outward appearance was male, I couldn’t really enter their world. I would try to mimic it by crossdressing or sitting and staring at them imagining my life if it was like theirs. It was enjoyable and felt natural but eventually reality would kick back in. I’d get back on the boat and try to stop feeling guilty for falling off the boat. I’d hate myself for crossdressing and feel guilty as the little voice in my head kept telling me I shouldn’t be doing this. It wasn’t God’s voice, it was my voice, my thoughts, my upbringing that was talking. Finally about 1/2 way through the ride, I decided I was tired of trying to stay on this small little boat and was just going to swim and slip and slide the rest of the way because it would be less of a struggle and make the ride more enjoyable, make me a happier and more fun person to be around.
About 3/4 of the way around the ride (at least that’s what it seemed to me), there was an angry mob running toward me in the grass around the ride. They were loud and screaming that they were going to make me get back on the boat. This part of the dream is because I had recently had an encounter with 2 pastors of my church and some people on facebook. They all believe that my gender dysphoria is all in my head (well the people on FB don’t know fully yet, but their attitudes is that being trans is a choice) and that I can just think to change it and it would change (I guess in some way it is because they haven’t done the research to get to where I am in thinking). However, my research has shown that it is most likely a hard-wired part of our neural makeup along with our sexual orientation or how our brain regulates our heartbeat. You can’t stop your heartbeat just by thinking about it and you can’t change your gender identity just by thinking about it. So the angry mob are the friends and acquaintances in my life who will not approve of me living my life according to my gender identity (being off the boat) and they will spend energy trying to convince me that I’m wrong and the best way to live my life is according to my biological sex (being on the boat).
When I got to the end of the ride, my mom was there and she was mad. My mother and I had a phone call this past week that didn’t go so well and that piled on top of the call with my aunt and uncle made this part of the dream come out. My brain was using the image of my mom to represent my extended family (even on C’s side) and her actions were representative of all their opinions about my situation and what I think is the healthiest course of action. She was really mad in the dream, wanting to know why I couldn’t just stay on the boat, but I found 2 things interesting. C was with her and they was still there waiting for me at the end of the ride. The angry mob that represented friends came into the picture and then went away. They didn’t stay around. I totally expect that I would lose most if not all of my friends if I chose to live my life as my gender identity. But at the end of the ride, at the end of my life, my family and my extended family was still there. They were mad at me, but they were still there. Seeing C waiting for me also showed me that my immediately family, my kids, were still around at the end of my life. I’m not sure what her role was in my life as I woke up before the dream could continue but knowing these people were still waiting for me was sort of reassuring (at least that is likely what my mind is hoping for).
So this is the interpretation that came to my mind, as if someone was interpreting and telling me what my dream meant or how my brain was trying to sort things out. Pretty weird and really still not 100% decisive in what to do (though I feel my brain is trying to tell me that living life by my gender identity will bring the least amount of stress and the most fun and adventure). Guess only time will tell.
The end of an era
My wife just sent me a very heartfelt, God honoring letter stating that our relationship as husband and wife needs to end.
So yeah, I don’t really know what to say. I think it’s going to take a while for the feelings to wash over me and for reality to come flying up and smack me in the face, so for now, I’m just going to soak in the waters of this feeling. Not really sure how God is going to redeem this, but perhaps this is what I deserve. This is the consequences of my sin. My hiding my true self because I was ashamed and afraid of who I really was. Afraid that people would make fun of me and not accept me. Afraid I would never be accepted for who I am. I wasn’t 100% completely honest with her before we got married and now the result is my true self being in a marriage with someone who would’ve never picked me, the real me, to begin with.
Feeling…Something…Anything
From my last post, you can see that I had a good weekend and enjoyed my time as myself, even if it was short lived. However, I still feel dysphoric and it sort of sucks because the less I am myself and the more I am how the world sees me, the more anxiety and depression I feel inside. I just want to sleep through life and get it over with. However, the more I am myself and less like the world sees me, the more I get frustrated that I can’t just be me already from head to toe, inside and out.
I feel for women all over the world who feel the need to be completely made up before leaving the house. If I was compelled to wake up every morning and do my makeup, my hair and make sure I was dressed well before I made a public appearance, I would go insane. The frustration for me comes in that I HAVE to do that in order to pass for what my minds eye sees me as. If I had all the right body parts, and my face and hair looked even remotely feminine, then I would be more comfortable just putting on some jeans and a tee, toss on a little blush, eye shadow and lipstick, put my hair back in a ponytail and be on my way. Unfortunately I can’t do that and that makes me more dysphoric. Add on top of that, that only 5 people in my life know I’m transgender (not even my kids know yet) so it makes it hard to STAY as myself if I do get the chance to express it.
I really struggle with this whole new aspect of my life. Before I knew what transgender was, life was simple. Cypher said it right in the movie, The Matrix, “Ignorance is bliss.” Ironic that Lana Wachowski is transgender too. Life wasn’t easy, as I still struggled with anxiety and depression, but at least I thought it was normal, a by product of my ADD. Now I know why and I know what my options are, that’s the part that sucks. I can stay the way I am, and continue life as usual, struggling with the same feelings until I breathe my final breath. I can go the route of reparative therapy (something every other person would want for me I’m sure), but my chances of success are slim to none and I really don’t want to make things worse (physically or mentally). The case history for reparative therapy is so unsuccessful and damaging that some states won’t even let therapists do it. Then of course, there is transition. This brings a whole other world of problems to the forefront.
Being that I gave my life to Christ almost 20 years ago, I struggle with a few aspects of transition. First, my life isn’t my own, it belongs to Christ. I was bought with a price and I only want to please Him and bring glory to His name. Some would say that alone should mean no transition. However, what do I do with my experience I shared in “The Wrong Question”? I have always trusted God when I hear His voice and while life has never been easy, following his voice has never been wrong (even if it didn’t turn out the way I thought). What’s even better is when I have been in the wrong myself, I have experienced excruciating, double me over, pain in my heart about what I was about to do or what I did. This tells me that the Holy Spirit is alive and well in my life and I can continue to trust when I hear His voice. Second, I have my wife and kids. I’m really not sure if they are willing to accept me as a full fledged woman. Also we’d have to both be okay with being in a same sex marriage (I am fine with that, but God knows our fundamentalist church family will have a field day with that. It hurts my brain just thinking about it because we have actually researched in depth more on the history of eunuchs and homosexuality within the contexts of history and the bible and it isn’t pretty for the traditionalist interpretation). The alternative is to transition and end up divorced because C is not comfortable with me transitioning now.
I love my family, but I can see why so many transgender people commit suicide now (I just don’t have the balls to do it…pun intended). The pressure is intense to “not be selfish” and think only of yourself, but at the same time, living in a given life when you know there is a way out and you can’t have it (well, without looking selfish to everyone else) is painful. I love my spouse. Losing her is not an option I want to explore, but then again, mental health is important. Ugh.
I feel with all my heart that transition is the right path for me, but I do not know if that is going to work for everyone else. So on with the dysphoria. Sin sucks, this broken world sucks, I feel stuck.
Shedding Shadows 