Monday, May 21, 2012

Tell me I'm beautiful

I can't add anything to the inspiring and heartfelt words of the author.


Tell me I'm beautiful...

Tuesday, May 15, 2012

Looking in the mirror - my road to facial feminization surgery

I had equivocated for months now. I knew how harsh a trial it would be, but still. I knew that my reflection was passably beautiful, but still. I heard others express shock at my decision, lending support to what I saw, but still.

When I looked in the mirror I saw every line that was out of place. The hints of my past tugged at my mind, reminding me that no matter how far I walked I would always look back and see where I started.

During yoga class my imperfections screamed loudest. As I stretched into half moon the moving meditation became a pitched battle to silence my demons.

I guess I should've known. My inner self-critic is well practiced. In a world where a woman's body is expected to look like an airbrushed cover of a magazine, my faults were glaring beacons.

As days piled onto weeks my resolve became firm, "I would get facial feminization surgery". I knew from the little research I had done so far that FFS generally required a bevy of procedures to achieve the desired look. It wasn't sufficient to change a nose or a forehead - because a single change could leave one off balance and out of kilter.

I knew the next step would be to find a surgeon and start saving. Facial feminization surgery is not cheap, but paying top dollar for the best surgeon was a must for me. More than anything else, your face is the world's window into your soul. It's what people see every day. Without really thinking about it, it is you - what you taste, and see, and smell and hear. The very life giving breathe all depends on those tiny apparatus on your face. No, skimping on facial surgery was not in the cards for me.

And with that, my story begins. Over the next few weeks and months I will continue to share my journey through transgender surgery after transgender surgery. If you'd like to join me in my journey, please subscribe to Transgender Heaven - you'll need to confirm your subscription by clicking on a link in your email, so don't forget to add to your safe senders list.

I look forward to sharing this part of my transgender walk with you.

Love and blessings,
Photo © Debljames | Stock Free Images

Wednesday, May 2, 2012

Led by my emotions

I guess some people are built to feel things more poignantly - the knife of heartache cuts deeper, the rushing streams of passion run stronger. The highs and lows of life are adorned with vivid sensory accompaniment.  Truth be told, I've always been an emotional person and never held back tears. Yet it seems like this year my eyes have wept oceans of salty sadness - sometimes for a reason, just as often for none that I can discern.

Transgender woman, how have your emotions changed?
For the first time in my life I have cried so furiously that I could not breathe. I remember each texture as I lay curled on my bed hyperventilating from overwhelming sadness. I remember the wash of no-longer-warm water cooling against my skin in the bath, as I wailed with hopeless anguish contemplating a bitter future.

Again, and again, and again the tears have come. Bidden and unbidden. I feel my mind trapped in a cage of emotions. Even as I see myself hurtling towards an irrational action, there is nothing I can do to stop it - the emotions inside of me must be heard, they must play out. So I say things out of hurt, or anger, or grief. I try to rein in myself and act with thoughtful aplomb. When I am centered, and strong this works. But more often it fails to break through, live a wave desperately crashing against the cliff side only to be repelled by an immovable force.

Am I more emotional after transition?

This is a question I've been asking myself for a while now. My past fades into dim memory, but I feel almost certain that I held the reigns of my actions more tightly in the before. Is it the hormones? I remember being joyful earlier in my transition, but perhaps my joy held an equal sway over me. So it is merely the ebb and flow of my inner tides, and not a more emotional self coming through.

Perhaps it is the trauma of my many surgeries that have put me more in touch with the world. They gave me an empathy for those experiencing pain, and a keener ear to hear the drumbeat of my own. I'll be the first to admit that I still feel the aftershock of the surgeries.

It is late tonight, and I feel drained, but I am eager to hear your perspective. How did your emotional state change after you transitioned?