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My name is Nikki.


Nikki-C

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I'm not good at introductions, but here goes. I am a female imprisoned in a males body.  My name came to be after asking my mother what she would have named me had I been born a girl.  I have known about being a girl since a very early age, but it took many years before achieving a certain level of self awareness as well as emotional maturity to be able to fully accept it.   I grew up in a time when people like me were considered to be mentally ill.  I first tried to commit suicide after my father had came home early from work one day and caught me dressed like a girl. He didn't recognize me , but I had not learned how to sound like a girl and attempted to answer his questions about who I was.  He figured out what was happening and then proceeded to beat me, literally picked me up and threw me in the shower, where I hit my head on the tub and had a horrible headache for almost a month afterwards. He kept screaming at me that no son of his was going to be a GD queer -awesome person-.   This was the summer of 1969.  After resuming school in the fall of that year, everyone in the entire school knew my filthy little secret and I suffered physical and emotional trauma on a daily basis.  Every day I would be beaten, tormented, ridiculed. By Thanksgiving of that year, I had enough.  In order to make the horrible pain go away I tried to kill myself. I was 9-1/2 years old.  I have since resented my parents for bringing me into this world, and then rejecting me for who and what I am.  My family life growing up and as an adult was traumatic and dysfunctional.

 

Cheerleaders3-Cropped.jpg.b2e6e31d4110b905a0e9cfb5024a38d1.jpg

 

When I was older, I had always wanted to be a cheerleader.  In the 70's I had really long hair.  Of course I wasn't a cheerleader in school, but I did have a one friend who accepted me and she had moved across town to a completely different school district.  I would visit her and she would dress me up. I fit perfectly into her uniform. That's me, the girl in the center.  I was able to be in the photo as my friends visiting cousin who wanted to be a cheerleader.  No one else knew.  I think I passed with flying colors.  What do you think?  Thinking back on this, something that happened so long ago, I was so happy.  I was actually smiling.  Something I was never able to really do.  I even went on a few dates.   My BFF and I were horrible little teasing flirts but we both really enjoyed it none-the-less ?  Oh the slumber parties were just so magical ?? ?Unfortunately, I was not able to keep my girly appearance. In those days there was no such thing as puberty blockers or the like. I became more despondent, more suicidal.  

 

Along the way, my pain became too much to bear.  I  turned my back on my true self and put Nikki into the background.  Twice married and twice divorced, Nikki never left me.  At some point the girl that is me, the girl I had suppressed refused to be transparent any longer.  That is the way it always works.  The girl who you really are will always break out of her shell of transparency and demand to be noticed.  Nikki is not my enemy.  She is precious. Because of the trauma I have faced growing up and as an adult, I have not openly come out in public.  I dream I'm safe in my hotel womb.  Soft and soul made, it's a wonderful room. So I  dress as the girl that I am within these four walls that slowly close, getting smaller and smaller until they will eventually crush me.  I have issues. My childhood was taken from me, way before 1969. An ominous cloud of C-PTSD that won't go away no matter how much psychiatry I get, no matter how much therapy I try.  All worthless. Completely utterly worthless for me. Oh how I miss engaging in girl talk. I have never really grown up.  But, I have found myself alone, stranded on a deserted island so to speak. Absolutely no friends, no family. Just bad traumatic memories that won't go away. The past two weeks I have really been scaring myself.  I just don't have the resilience of youth. My physical health worsens.  I think I'm just ready for all this to end, but I remind myself that I have always felt this way.  

 

Well, that is all for now.  I've not even scratched the surface actually.  A psychiatrist once told me that some things are not worth remembering. So true, but some things just will not allow themselves to be forgotten. No matter how much you talk about it, not matter how much you try to desensitize it.

 

 

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  • Admin

Welcome to the Forums Nikki -- As tough as you life has been, there is still hope you can become yourself.  Most of your story has been told by many of us here over the years, and yet here we are living our lives and finally getting some peace and self dignity. 

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  • Forum Moderator

Hi Nikki,

Welcome to Transpulse. I'm glad you're here!

 

You are not alone. I faced daily torment in school. When I'd get home I'd cry. Scars are still left behind from that. I still have great difficulty with trust and making friends.

 

But I have learned that we never know what tomorrow brings. No matter how bleak and dreary things may seem today, things do change. I've learned to have hope for that. I take stock of the good things I've experience as Carla. I place more value on them than I do on the bad memories. As best I can I chart my new life rather than dwell on the old.

 

Lots of love and a big welcome hug,

Timber Wolf?

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@Nikki-C you look so happy in your cheerleader outfit. I graduated high school in 1970 and went through several similar things in my past and finally found this forum a year ago and it has lead to nearly a year of HRT, a gender specialist therapist and legal change of name this past Tuesday and it is still bringing me tears of joy. I hope and we'll I know you will find an amazing group of women here and many your age who will becomes friends and share thoughts and advice from a place of love and acceptance having come from a life not unlike you own.

Welcome

Heather Shay

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Welcome Nikki! I can't undo the past or the pain even though I wish I could. I hope though as I have, that you will find the caring people here who love & accept you for the beautiful woman you are. The support & advice I have found has been so helpful. I'm glad you're here!

 

Hugs!

Delcina 

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  • Forum Moderator

Welcome Nikki.  Having gender issues in the 50's and 60's wasn't easy!   My parents handled me by sending me to all male schools.  Today it is easier but trans folks still often face difficulties.  This site helped me.  Hopefully you will find the same.

 

Hugs,

 

Charlize

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Welcome Nikki. I graduated back in the '70s as well, and while my circumstances were a bit different, there are a lot of similarities we share. My heart weeps for what you had to go through and are experiencing now. As everyone has said, there is still hope you can be your true self. Have faith, be strong and keep in mind that everyone on this website is welcoming, accepting and supportive. You are loved. You are special. You will be in my prayers.

 

Hugs,

 

Marcie

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Thanks to everyone for your nice replies.

 

@Shay, I thought I was too old for HRT. Even if I'm not, it is probably too expensive.  Oh how I wish I could do HRT.

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1 hour ago, Nikki-C said:

Thanks to everyone for your nice replies.

 

@Shay, I thought I was too old for HRT. Even if I'm not, it is probably too expensive.  Oh how I wish I could do HRT.

 

It's surprisingly affordable. Even with my poor insurance, E only comes to $20 a month. It never hurts to check, right?

 

Hugs!

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@Timber Wolf,

Quote

 

You are not alone. I faced daily torment in school. When I'd get home I'd cry. Scars are still left behind from that. I still have great difficulty with trust and making friends.

 

But I have learned that we never know what tomorrow brings. No matter how bleak and dreary things may seem today, things do change. I've learned to have hope for that. I take stock of the good things I've experience as Carla. I place more value on them than I do on the bad memories. As best I can I chart my new life rather than dwell on the old.

 

 

Your post is exactly spot-on.  I have become a recluse as a result of trust issues.   And the no matter how bleak and dreary things seem today comment are absolutely true.  I have to keep trying to remember that.  It is not easy when the pain is so bad, I cannot see past that pain.  You just want it to end and go away.

 

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@Charlize,

Quote

My parents handled me by sending me to all male schools.

 

Mine handled me by simply sweeping my issues under the rug so to speak.  If you ignore the problem long enough, perhaps they will go away.  But I never went away and neither did my problems. My parents were simple country folks from east Texas, and having a son who was really a girl trapped in a males body was just too much for them to comprehend. 

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Hi Nikki,

I started HRT at 62, and my dosage has tripled since I began. Even with the significant changes in my dosage, I'm only spending about $35 per month. BTW, I use GoodRX as my insurance (Tricare) cover it. So, it's never too late to begin.

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@Marcie Jensen,

I think you meant to say you use GoodRX as your insurance  won't cover it.   I have to use GoodRX as I don't have insurance.  That is good information to Know  I'm not sure how to start the process though.  Thank you so much for your reply. 

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To everyone, I made a mistake in the year given in my introduction.  It should have been the summer of 1967 and not the summer of 1969.  Since I do not see any way to edit the original post, I am making that correction here. 

 

Love & Kisses,

Nikki

 

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  • Forum Moderator

Welcome from another loved to have been a cheerleader. I have just recently realized I was a woman just 4 years ago. After finally realizing the clues from my past.  I have worked hard to get on HRT. My medical team was hesitant because I have a history of blood clots. With some diligent work I have finally began in March. I couldn't be happier.

 

Nikki with your age, you are probably able to be on Medicare. I have learned from others on here that they cover a great deal of transition care. It is never to late to become the real you.

 

Hugs,

 

Kymmie

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@KymmieL,

When I was in the 7th grade, I would watch the cheerleaders after school practicing.  Since my ride home would take a while to get there, I was able to watch them practice their routine and I would memorize their moves and practice what I had seen in the privacy of my room when I got home. I looked up to those girls and wanted to be just like them.  I wanted to be a girl and be part of them so bad, I would just cry myself to sleep.

 

I had an older sister, and lucky for me she had a lot of  girl clothes that she had outgrown and well you can guess who adopted those clothes in secret.   One day during the cold of winter, I was at school and was stomping my foot on something that was on the cement during lunch break. Much to my horror a pair of panties that was apparently stuck in my pants leg by static electricity fell right out of the leg of my jeans right on the ground in front of everyone.  I had already been having trouble as it was, but that little episode was so humiliating.  Too hard to explain how a pair of pink girl panties  just happened to drop out of my pants leg. You can be sure after that experience, I checked my pants legs before putting them on ?   I have experienced all kinds of teen nightmare occurrences like that.  It seems surreal thinking back.   I would wear panties and a bra under my clothes, but it was such a hassle because of boy's gym.  I would have to take them off before gym in a bathroom stall and the put them back on afterwards. I was taking a huge, huge chance on getting caught, but the need to feel girly was just so overwhelming....

 

2 hours ago, KymmieL said:

I have worked hard to get on HRT. My medical team was hesitant because I have a history of blood clots. With some diligent work I have finally began in March. I couldn't be happier.

 

OMG Kymmie, I can imagine it was difficult for you and I am so glad that you was able to overcome.  I wish I could be happy, but I am afraid that I have forgotten what that feels like.  But all I can do is keep trying.

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