How I came to know I was transgender

So I’ve come out to some friends online recently (Hi guys!) and pointed them to this blog. They’ve been amazingly supportive. But they, and my parents as well, have some questions. So I’m going to take this time to try and establish the major and minor points that lead me to the conclusion that I’m transgender. Fair warning: this post may be more candid than some folks are prepared to handle. Proceed with caution.

Imagining being a woman vs. wanting to be one

The fundamental part of the conclusion stems from my intense desire to be a woman. Now, there’s probably not a man alive who hasn’t imagined being a woman, and many often find things about such imaginings that would be better than their own lot in life. Most don’t dwell on the subject, rehash it ad infinitium, and generally become privately obsessed about it. I did.

I remember my first “wet dream.” I’m about to explain it in detail, I remember it well enough, so skip down to the next paragraph if this bothers you. I was no older than 15, probably younger. In my dream, I was a naked girl, I was hiding, and I had to pee. I kept moving around looking for a bathroom or some other place to pee, while remaining in hiding. I finally found somewhere, and that’s when I peed. Literally. My first “wet dream” didn’t result in a nocturnal emission, but rather peeing the bed. I’ve never told anyone else this. Subsequent to this, all my “wet dreams” were of the normal type, and in many of them I was female, but none of them stuck in my head like this one.

If you skipped to this paragraph, then the minimum you need to know was that I was a girl in that dream. Since that time, I’ve often daydreamed about how it’d be to be a girl – the good and the bad was all the same to me, I was willing to take the whole package because (and I didn’t exactly realize this at the time) it felt right for me. Through the years I continued to imagine life as a girl, and starting about 10 years or so ago I started imagining ways in which I’d actually be granted this wish, and how I’d dress in various jobs I held if I was a woman.

I imagined just waking up as a girl. I imagined being transformed, sometimes slowly (over the course of weeks or months – still faster and more fully than medical science can manage nowadays) and sometimes quickly (over the course of seconds, minutes, or hours). Sometimes I imagined being enveloped by a beam of light from the sky, that burned away the male “me” and left behind a female version (also left my clothes intact, or sometimes even shrunk them to fit the female version of me). I wanted this to happen. I NEEDED this to happen. But it never did.

Always, in my imaginings, I was thinner, because if I’m going to imagine the impossible, might was well make it the best I can. I even often imagined being short, because really I hate everything about this physical shell I’m in. I even imagined transforming into another race – as in, nonhuman races from video games. I’ve imagined going to sleep and waking up as one of my video game characters, at the start of a new game. Always, though, I imagined myself female.

This pretty much sums up the major part of why I came to the conclusion that I’m transgender. All the other stuff I mentioned in other posts, that’s not reflected here? That’s minor stuff, supporting the contention that I’m a transgender woman. If I took all of them together, and didn’t have this, I would have nothing; I’d be, at most, a sensitive, emotionally expressive man with some feminine mannerisms, but I wouldn’t be transgender. Some of those minor things may just be reflections of societial stereotypes of women that I picked up in my own self, and they may be far more prevalent than I know in cisgender men.

Hopefully soon I can start therapy, and get a better sense of myself; I’m looking into the options of that, but with my recommended therapist fifty miles away, and not knowing a thing about the attitudes of local therapists – or even what kind of doctor to look for – it’s gonna be some work even finding a therapist to work with. I just have to keep my eyes on the horizon, the end result, not on the difficulty of the path that lays before me.

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