Coming out…

I was really afraid to come out to other people. Think that, once you’ve come out to someone, there’s no coming back. You can’t “unsay” something you have said.

Until there came a day when I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore.

I had this late acne that had started to spread a bit in some patches of my face. I had always had it, but it got worse. So I went to the dermatologist, and he put me on Accutane.

For the people who don’t know what Accutane is, I’ll say that it is a really strong treatment that dries up your skin. It also has some nasty, if rare, side effects, such as extreme photosensitivity (so you shouldn’t expose yourself to direct sunlight), or hair loss. It was the hair loss part, together with the fact that you shouldn’t get laser depilation not only when you’re on these pills, but up to six months later, that got me extremely nervous. One day I couldn’t stand it anymore, and told a friend.

Somehow, the dam that contained all my feelings broke. I was so tired of people telling me that hair loss was no big deal, that lots of men get bald and they look even better then… It is horrible when everybody has such a clear picture of what you should be worrying about, and what you shouldn’t.

So, I came out to a friend. Of course, my girlfriend already knew about all of this, and even encouraged me to go and see a psychologist. But I guess this was how things started to happen.

After this friend, I told another. And then another one. And I started going to the psychologist, who told me that I should start doing life tests. This means, I should start dressing up as a girl. I already had some girl clothes, (thank you, Internet!), so it was okay with me. I enjoyed trying new looks, even though I didn’t look too convincing. I had still my beard, and my skin was horrible.

I told my parents, who live in another city. They were really, really worried. They were supportive, though. But we talked over the phone for hours, telling me that I was making a terrible mistake, that I was going to be alone, that I was going to look strange and ugly. I know this was because they cared (a lot!), but I guess this didn’t help me much at the time. My parents are also very fond of my girlfriend, and feared that I was going to hurt her.

Those days were really hard. The relationship with my girlfriend was about to blow apart. And I felt very restricted, very encased in my male role, so I felt really hard to progress. I couldn’t remove my beard, I couldn’t go outdoors as a girl, (it was too obvious), and I was really scared of somehow being denied treatment. Especially now that I had my mind pretty much clear.

And some of these friends said that maybe I was wrong. That I was probably just a fetishist, that my relationship was preventing me from moving forward, and that maybe I should break up. Or forget about going on. And I didn’t know what to do. And they got tired of me being all stressed out (and telling them), but having no visible progress. So I stopped telling my problems to friends, and I didn’t come out to the rest of them. I didn’t want to worry more people about me.

I became distant, silent at the office. Then, the pressure of the projects became higher, and some projects got delayed. I must say that this was not my fault. I tried to do my best at all times, but my mind had a lot of issues to think about.

And one day, I told my boss.

Yeah, I told my boss. He was the first person in all the office to know. And to my amazement, he gave me the best piece of advice I’ve ever had. He told me that it was not my decision whether my relationship would last or not.

I already knew I didn’t want to split up with my girlfriend. I knew that it was her decision. But I was so tired, that I had come almost to the point of breaking up. I just wasn’t able to do it. I wasn’t able to hurt her that bad.

Yes, I still feel bad about this. I’m a bad person, I know. How the mere thought of breaking up with my girl could have passed through my head?

The thing is, my boss’ advice gave me some strength. And I saw a new way to progress. So I came out to some other colleagues. One at a time. Two, at most. I didn’t want to make a scene of it. And to my relief, everybody was okay with it.

I set goals to myself. First, tell the managers. Then, tell the people in my workgroup. Then, tell the people in other workgroups. I went from the people I was closer to, to the people I didn’t know that much.

And to my joyful surprise, everybody was okay with it.

I even got hugs!

I guess that the chance of someone freaking out, or telling me to go to hell, or something like that, was always there. But it didn’t happen.

And then, act normal.

I tried to be always a close, supportive person with my colleagues. Even when I was about to break down, I tried to. And after I came out to them, I tried to keep it that way.

It took long before I told everyone. In the meantime, I finished the Accutane treatment, and my skin recovered, and the acne was gone for good. I decided that I couldn’t stop myself because I was afraid of hurting my girlfriend, and started being a girl at home at all times. And my girlfriend saw that she could cope with it, and we remained together. And when the time passed, I started having my beard lasered, and I got the courage to start showing myself in public as a girl. Well, I guess that the fact that my beard became not that obvious helped. And the first time I went to the street was the most liberating feeling ever.

That day, my girl was really scared. She was afraid that something could happen to me. And that same day I was approved for the blood tests that would allow me to do the hormone treatment.

From that day on, everything started to look up. From time to time I’d go out as a girl, and even my girlfriend would come with me. I still have a bit of concern every time I go out, but it’s definitely better. Keep in mind, I’m still having my beard removed, and sometimes I have still a bit of this ugly shadow under my nose.

And then we started telling friends again. Everybody was fine with it, and they were happy for us. And everything was better now. Now we came out as a couple, and now my girlfriend also got a lot of support. This was really great for us, and I guess it made us feel that everything was going to be okay.

And finally one day we decided to tell my girlfriends’ parents. That day I was really scared. But nothing happened. They were okay with it. And they told me that I was family. I almost cried.

So, it took almost a year to tell everyone. But now it is done. One person at a time, with a lot of caution. I guess I’ve hurt, or driven some people away in the process, and I’m sorry. I’ve always tried to do my best.

Everything has turned out to be so right, that when I think all that I’ve got now, I can’t help it, and my eyes get wet.

Being lucky…

I must say that I can’t complain.

So far, I’ve got a good job, in which is safe to transition.

I’ve got lots of good friends. Nobody has let me down.

I’ve got the best of girlfriends by my side. She has endured through the tough parts of my decision, and she is still with me, she accepts me and she supports me fully. And gives me lots of love.

I’ve got the best family I could hope for. My own parents, afraid as they are that something goes wrong, haven’t turned me down, and love me. So does my brother. And the same goes for my girlfriend’s family. I have the best in-laws of the world.

Plus, I feel the hormones are working really quick. My skin is much better, my hair grows strongest than ever, my muscles are shrinking and my breasts are already developing. And it’s been only two months since I started…

And I feel great, I feel beautiful and with the strength to do lots of new things.

Life is so good…

Once upon a time…

Once upon a time there was a little boy.

He was sort of a regular boy who lived with his parents and his little brother, somewhere in a sunny town by the sea.

He had never got along too well with the other boys in the school. He was a bit of a swot, to begin with. He was skinny, he was weak, he was afraid of getting hit by the ball. Definitely, he was not the kind of guy you want in your soccer team. But it didn’t bother him too much. Sometimes, though, he was afraid that he was not masculine enough. He was afraid of not being able to do the things he was expected to do when he grew up.

He was bright. Or at least, he found easy to learn things. And he was lucky of their parents noticing it. He learnt to read very soon. And then he got a computer, even when almost nobody knew what they were. And he taught himself how to code in a couple of evenings, reading a book. His computer was his outlet, his hobby, his release. He just didn’t need anyone else.

He had a couple of friends in those days. When he was very small, there was a girl from the kindergarten who would come and play sometimes. And his neighbour, who would be always there, telling jokes. And in school there was also a girl he played hangman with, trying to speed up the class time.

And he had fights with his brother. A lot of them, as it always happens between siblings.

Time passed, and he started to grow. His parents moved to another city, where most of his relatives were. He begun in a different school, he made some friends, and started noticing girls. There was a beautiful girl in another classroom. He became secretly in love with her, but he never got the courage to tell her anything. And he had begun to feel awkward and inadequate.

This boy had a secret. He liked dressing as a girl. He stuffed pillows in his chest, and did his homework dressed like this, locked in his room. Sometimes he would spend entire evenings there, and he would even sleep like that. And he still liked girls, and this freaked him out.

One day he saw a scene in which two girls had sex together, and he felt really awful, because he loved it. And he wanted to be like those girls, and he just couldn’t, because he was a boy.

He went into puberty, and kept dressing as a girl almost every evening, when he retired to study. And kept dressing as a girl for sleeping. And had dreams of being with that beautiful girl from school, but being a girl himself.

He never talked of this to anyone. He felt ashamed, and worried that he was alone in the world. And he didn’t know what he was. A crossdresser? A transexual? Was he gay? But he didn’t like boys… This was too weird. And in the meantime he would wait until he was home alone to dress up with some of his mother’s clothes, and be around the home. And he felt so good, so relieved when he did this, and so guilty…

He passed through high school like this. And got good grades, and went to University. And his parents moved again, and this time the appartment was bigger, and he had no longer access to his mother’s clothes so easily. And he developed a beard, and his back got wider, and his eyebrows thicker. He felt ugly, and he stopped dressing up as a girl. But never stopped wishing he was one.

He discovered the Internet soon, and looked for what he thought was happening to him. And looked for fetishes, and found rubber. And he dreamt of leaving home, and living in his own appartment, and buy some girl rubber clothes. And in the meantime he fell in love very hard a couple of times, but nothing happened, because he still felt inadequate, and the girls found him inadequate, too. And wanted to leave his studies. And sometimes he wanted to kill himself.

He tried to work out, and he swam, in an attempt to become what he thought was a man, what was expected from him. And he started to forget that he was bright, because his mind was busy with other thoughts.

He got his degree, and soon he went to live to the capital city. He found a job and a room in a flat with three more guys. There he had to hide for four years. And he buried his feelings deep. And got another job, and buried his feelings deeper. And dated a couple of girls, and it didn’t work. When he was alone in his room, he would just look on the Internet for other people being what he wanted to be, but he didn’t dare of.

And one day, he left that flat and went to live on his own.

Somehow, the inertia kept him moving in the same direction. He’d go out for drinks with the colleagues, he’d try to date some girls, with not much success, and he’d keep working. And when he was alone, he’d keep looking the Internet, and he’d write some stories about lesbian girls in rubber, and he’d draw some drawings.

He begun frequenting some forums dedicated to rubber fetishism. He would talk to some people there. But he didn’t feel like he belonged there yet. He hadn’t had any rubber himself, and he didn’t feel comfortable just lurking. But he felt it was wrong to do this.

And then he met a girl, and this helped him a lot. The relationship pushed him through his limits, and he found out that he was not happy as a boy. And when it was over, he was in sorrow. He took a couple of balloons and stuffed them in his chest, and he remembered that he liked that. And soon he ordered a latex suit which made him look as a rubber doll, and he had never felt so good.

At that time, more or less, he’d meet someone on the Internet forums. She was a transexual girl, and she was a rubberist, and she was a lesbian. And the boy saw her and something started moving in his brain. And he thought to himself that maybe he was like her. In fact, at that time he had wished lots of times that he had no family, no friends, no relatives, so that he could become a woman without making anyone mad at him.

And he enjoyed dressing up in latex, alone at home.

It wasn’t long since the last relation, when he met another girl. But this girl was completely different. She was attentive and supporting, and he thought he had finally found love. And he started doing some things he wanted to do, because she encouraged him. She became the most important thing in his life. And he wanted to be sincere and open to her, and he told her about his latex fetish. And even though she wasn’t into latex, she could live with it.

They moved together one year later, to another city by the sea.

For the first time this boy felt something like happiness. He got a nice job, with nice colleagues. He was living with his girl, and had new friends. But he still had trouble being a man. He had to move his mind away when he was having sex, and he felt awful for that, because he loved his girlfriend. And he got worse, more anxious, more depressed, because he felt unable to be happy. He, who had everything.

So he talked to his girlfriend. And she was worried, because she liked men. And he would let time pass, because he didn’t want to lose her. But eventually he’d speak again of his feelings. And this is how he finally went to a psychologist, because he wanted to be proved wrong. He wanted to be told that he wasn’t a transexual.

But the psychologist didn’t prove him wrong. And there were difficult days for the couple. She didn’t want to lose him. Neither did he. And he felt with every passing day that he was a transexual. And she felt more and more lost with every day.

And it happened that she decided to stay. And the relationship started to work again, and they were a bit happier.

He continued going to the psychologist. And he started to buy girls clothes, and living as a girl at home. And soon he was diagnosed. He was transexual. And he begun taking hormones, and the girl was still with him as he became she. And he felt he was happy for the very first time of his life.

I was this boy.