Defective Introspective

Because my thoughts cannot be contained by my skull.


I have found some purpose.  I will lead an openly transgender life. I will educate, and have patience with all those who are curious and willing to be educated.  I do this to better our society for now, and in the future.  I do this because I am unhappy with the world, and will do my best to change it.

I also realize that I am fortunate enough to be in a position to do so.  That is why I feel obligated to be as big a positive  force as I can be.  I’m financially stable, confident, have good emotional support and live in an area where people are willing to listen.

I’m trans, and I refuse to be ashamed about it.  I refuse to live my life in silence and fear.  I’m going to combat ignorance to the best of my ability  I’m going to make this world a better place.

There’s a Girl in the Mirror

Sorry I haven’t updated in a while.  I usually use this as a place to vent, so I’ve just been really happy recently.  I’m getting closer to six months on hormones, and my body has taken to them quite well, I have hips and am almost satisfied with my boobs. More often than not I do see myself in the mirror, now it’s just a matter of not crying tears of joy when I do.

I met a girl, and she’s trans too. It’s quite wonderful. We understand each other really deeply. All one of us has to say is “I’m feeling dysphoric.” and the other knows what to do.  It helps having someone who knows what it’s like.

Not to say I don’t have bad times either.  I get dysphoric about a lot of things. My anatomy, inability to procreate, lost childhood, parents misgendering and saying I need god, and a lot more.  However, I think I’m getting closer to a normal range of ups and downs, and I might be able to just live a happy life. 

I’m really happy I didn’t kill myself six months ago.


So! I decided to really kick the wanting to date someone initiative into gear. While at first it was a little disheartening, bars are not my natural habitat. I settled on trying some online dating, and it’s been a surprisingly good experience.

I set up my profile about two weeks ago, stating I am a bisexual woman, and in my info stating that I am trans. I thought the whole being trans thing would throw people off, but I must be attractive or something because people keep messaging me anyway.  I’ve already been on two dates, and am having conversations with many other promising leads. Do keep in mind that I do live in a fairly nice, liberal area. It was quite the nice surprise that people didn’t seem to mind my trans status so much, and I haven’t gotten anything super negative besides the standard creeps women get on dating sites.

I did meet a boy though. Not in person yet, but we’ve connected on some sort of level I didn’t know possible.  He truly understands what it’s like to have gender issues, and it feels like we have known each other for a very long time…in a word: Familiar.  I know how irrational my emotions towards him are, but I don’t care. These feelings are wonderful and I will enjoy them to the fullest.

So my hair is actually a bit more purple in real life, cameras make it really blue for some reason.  I found out my job wouldn’t fire me for coloring my hair so I did this a week later, with tremendous help from my awesome work friend.  My friends told me that people would stare and that I’d get snide remarks.  I laughed, because people seem to clock me as trans all the time, so I figured having bright hair was the least of my worries.


So I’ve been living full time for about three months now.  It’s only been three months. Ninety Days. 2160 hours.  I pass fairly well and my friends and coworkers see me as a woman. This has brought on many changes, most of which I am extremely happy with.  However, I’ve begun to see the darker side of things as well.

Women correctly see me as the woman I am now, and are now sharing with me information that, pre-transition was not a subject of discussion.  Every woman I have gotten to know even slightly more than as an acquaintance has this kind of story.  Some only have one, others, multiple.  They all have one though, the story about the time they were raped, sexually assaulted, touched inappropriately, feared for their life or similar danger entirely because they are female. That this problem is so prevalent and I had no idea about while I was living as a male, scares and shocks me to no end.  I dearly hope I have not contributed to the problem. I witnessed a situation a few weeks ago that, thankfully didn’t escalate too much.  However, the girl that whose space was being invaded was triggered.  She spent the rest of the night terrified and reliving some terrible memory of her past.  The guy who caused this didn’t even realize that it was his fault, when he left, it was because he thought he was having a fight with someone else.

The girl has a mutual friend with me and we work with the guy in question. This got to me even more, because the mutual friend thought it was her fault. (let’s call her, the mutual friend and my coworker, Natalie) Not only is the girl who got triggered freaking out, Natalie is also afraid.  Natalie is now uncomfortable around this guy as well, but is afraid to say anything about it to our managers because she thinks she will get in trouble for causing friction at work. I’ve never been more furious. I went to work with her to make sure she was comfortable and to inform the managers myself, because she shouldn’t have to back off to make room for a guy who doesn’t understand boundaries.

I have a new purpose in life.  I won’t let any of this stand.  I won’t let anyone be put in these uncomfortable situations.  I won’t let the ones who commit these acts go unpunished.  That these types of things are so common and just swept under the rug is the most infuriating thing I’ve ever heard. There is a lot to say on this subject, and I’m not that educated about it, but I know it’s as wrong as anything can be, and I will do my best to change things.

A Thought.

It makes me really sad that “I live with my parents” is synonymous with “I’m still in the closet”


Voice is just about the hardest thing for me with my transition.  I mean besides having a low bass voice.  It’s one of the hardest things to work on.  It’s hard to practice because just about until you get it down you will sound terrible, and be obviously trans and just be outing yourself to everyone.  It felt really fake for a really long time and just caused massive dysphoria because I felt like a pretender and that I couldn’t really do this.  I’m lucky that I have a job where I talk to people almost nonstop for eight hours a day over the phone, and I never see them ever again.  Every call I take is a chance to improve and if I mess up, then I’m only talking to that person for a maximum of ten minutes. It’s just so difficult too!  I’ve been practicing forty or more hours a week for about two months and I still feel like I sound terrible.

  It’s also difficult to remember to be always trying my voice, I get lazy around friends that know about me being trans and slip into my male voice.  It’s just easier and more convenient, I still don’t know how to get louder or use exclamations either.

I feel like I pass really well, especially for how far along I am, but I get super nervous every time I open my mouth.  My heart goes out to other trans people who don’t have anyone, or maybe even anywhere to practice their voice.  It must be terribly difficult and I wish you the best of luck.

There is one thing that saddens me deeply about my voice though.  I like to sing.  I’m pretty good at it too. I was in choirs for eight years. Singing has been a huge part of my life. I sing to relieve stress and to have fun.  I sing to express myself.  However, I look like a girl and sound like a very manly man. 

Singing now causes dysphoria, and I can’t even type this sentence without crying.  Something I love so much, and have such a passion for, hurts me now.  It’s the only thing I don’t like about my transition.  I can’t sing in public anymore if I don’t want to out myself.  I can’t even sing by myself because my voice doesn’t match who I am.  What kind of cruel joke is this? My teachers and I labored for eight years to get me to sing well, and all that work just causes me pain now.  I’m so sad about it, I can’t think of the right words to summarize my feelings.  Grief, maybe.  I know all the joy singing can bring, and now, nothing but sadness instead.

It’s a new year, and you guys should probably see me at some point, so why not now.  First pic is day one hormones! Other three are from New Years.  Three months hormones next week!


I came back to my hometown to visit some friends for new year’s, and while staying at my parents, I’ve been stricken ill.  It’s not life or death sickness, but I can’t drive home, and I certainly can’t work.

The thing that is peculiar to me is how my parents treat me.  They obviously care in some capacity.  They are feeding me and medicating me, and generally trying to get me better.  Yet, they still disrespect me in the most serious of ways.  They haven’t once attempted to call me the correct name or use the proper pronouns.  I know they think my transition is bad for me, and they don’t want to support it.  However, if they could take five seconds to get their heads out of the sand and stop it with the religious nonsense they could see the truth of the medical world as well as my own personal happiness.

Why must they continue to see me as  something I’m not?  I suppose I played the role of a male too well.   Now my own parents don’t believe just about anything I say.  They believed their son was real, that he existed and was happy.  If only they could see the truth.  They are blinded by grief they have for a mask.


So, coming out on facebook was nice.  I won’t have to lie to family members when I see them for christmas and I get to be myself.  My coming out went extremely well, all my real friends liked and/or commented on the status, saying positive things and making me feel great.  Four members of my extended family said positive things, including my conservative, gun-toting, man’s man of an uncle.  He had the heart to say, that while he didn’t understand, he would respect my wishes.  He even welcomed me to the family using my new name!  I haven’t gotten any negative comments, but my parents haven’t so much as liked or commented.  This is terribly hurtful, and so true to what they do in real life.  They ignore me. 

Oh well, they seem to be the only ones hung up on this, and while it hurts, I’ll either cut them out, or they’ll warm up soon enough.