I was unprepared for how emotionally difficult gender reconstruction surgery would be. I knew it would be painful. I knew there would be a lot of work involved. I knew the recovery process would be long. I was not expecting how emotionally isolating it would be, and was also unprepared for how to deal emotionally with complications to surgery that I knew could happen. So difficult to be a transsexual. I tried so hard to avoid it, but it didn’t seem avoidable at all anymore.
Now I’m six years into living my truth, and I guess at least it is just barely livable now, which is something it was not before.
I’ve been thinking I need to go to my first therapist who said I wasn’t really trans and say “look, you were wrong!”. I’m so grateful I’ve had a friend to take me in. Otherwise my difficulties and healing and my loneliness would be completely overbearing.
I suspect the question in the title is a question I should avoid asking. Otherwise, like Job I may be asked to endure further hardships.
Women are so much more powerful than men. We’ve just been trying to think it was otherwise, when in reality there is no humanity without women. Far too often women are changed to be embarrassed by their abilities, in lieu of being proud of their abilities. Women are Badass!
Finally my lifelong vagina envy has been dealt with. While it may never be as perfect as those beautiful girls in Penthouse and on all the p0rn websites, at least this vulva is my own. While my stuff is not as amazingly functional as so many other women’s, I’m sure that there are many other cisgender women with whom I stand upon an equal footing. I believe it will do what I need it to do. It will certainly be much better than going through life as a woman with a penis. While it may work for some people, I found it a horribly ignoble fate.
She is dressed, seasonably warmly, on this unseasonably warm December 22 day. If she had still been married, today: December 22 would’ve been her tenth anniversary. But that had not come to pass. Winter solstice was no longer the celebration of love, but now of a love lost.
Brilliant sunshine’s and a crystal blue sky across Santa Barbara, her new home. She found herself quite by accident here, surrounded by the Spanish colonial architecture of her childhood she found new strength and a whole new clarity of vision
When her ex-wife left her for becoming a woman, she had completely lost her footing, offer feet she found her some of exiles to the hinterlands of Virginia. There, in Urbanna, without any help without any belief that life whatever get better, she found herself in a nasty motorcycle accident hit by a careless police officer.
Parking her old Lexus sedan on a side street she walked to her gym. Sweat rose on her arms in the heat of bright sun. Santa Barbara was known for its pleasant weather. Her first winter in Santa Barbara have been high in a 500 year drought, which had all the trees blooming in the middle of December.
She wondered if Santa Barbara could burn through all the evil karma, the way the sun burned through the velvet of her blue dress. It burned through a divorce from her soulmate, perhaps she was, would, and will be free.