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RamesesRadio

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Hi everybody! I tend to write long and in-depth novellas about things that I care about, so if you don't like reading long things then feel free to just skip around.

I'd like to introduce myself, and the best way for me to do that is to give you some back story on how I finally figured out who I was, especially since I'm not "out" to my family, friends, or coworkers and I need someone to vent to since I'm not able to pay for or get insurance for a gender therapist to help me out. So take what you will out of this and let me know if I'm on the right track or if I'm just really screwed up. I can take criticism; I've taken it all my life.

So basically I grew up in a very conservative Mormon family (not in Utah, thank God), and if you know anything about Mormonism, you know I was raised to believe that ANYTHING to do with homosexuality or transgender (things I actually didn't fully understand until college) was punishable by excommunication, and is the third worst sin, next to murder and denying the Holy Ghost. So it never really occurred to me that I might have anything to do with that kind of stuff. I even have to admit that as a kid I was kind of a preachy little brat about such things and thought I knew it all. Anyway.

I was always a 'tomboy', and never really liked 'girly' things. I remember when I was five years old I had a tantrum because my Mom put me into a lacy dress for church. She thought that I just had a sensory problem with the lace, since my younger brother is autistic and sometimes behaviors on the autism spectrum can manifest in siblings. I had the same reaction to silk panties and a pair of corduroy skorts (remember those?). As I grew older, I wore boyish clothes and often acted like a boy, even though I had a girly moment now and again. My parents have told me since that they were sure it was a phase and that I acted that way because I wanted to be the big example for my autistic and Asperger's brothers. I have four brothers, by the way, and one sister. And to some extent I could see their point. My brothers' condition handicaps their ability to interact socially and I was their only social cue. My sister was also a tomboy for quite a while.

But when I was eleven, something snapped. It was a stupid thing, really, but it kind of set me up to figure out that something wasn't quite clicking. I used to chew on my hair when I would get nervous, and the problem had become so bad that my Mom finally decided to teach me a lesson and she cut my hair boy-short. I cried while she was cutting, but after it was over and I looked in the mirror, it was like someone had turned on the light. I have never had long hair (save once) since that time. And sure, when I was in my teen years the hairstyles were short, but still kind of girly, which my Mom was okay with because at that point women with short hair was acceptable. I'm so glad that as Mormons, we never lived in Utah or around a large population of our religion, otherwise I would have been criticized and shunned by my peers even more so than I already was.

Instead the criticism came from my grandmother. When I was 13 she moved to a house down the road from us and every time she saw me she would drop hints about my haircut, my baggy tees, my jeans, my sneakers, you name it. She would tell me how beautiful I would look in a dress and longer hair, or (shudder) makeup. I always either assured her that I was working on it, or just ignore her. That summer I got sent to stay with my Uncle and Aunt in Utah for a few weeks. My Uncle worked for the Church at the time, so I spent most of my days at the Salt Lake Temple Square, soaking in the culture of my religion. Unbeknownst to me at the time, my Aunt had been sent money to buy me articles of clothing that were more 'pleasing'.

I had just turned fourteen that month, and when Mormons turn fourteen, they're encouraged to go to Church sponsored dances so that kids can interact with other Mormon kids of the opposing gender from nearby branches (no dating until 16, and no marriage until after the male of the couple had returned from his two-year-mission). The day after one such dance, my aunt took me to buy some new clothes. They were feminine, tight, and showed off what curves I had at that age. When I got back to New Mexico, those clothes somehow ended up in the local clothing drive.

When I was seventeen, something else snapped. After years and years, my Dad decided that he wanted all of his kids screened for autism, since the youngest twin boys were showing signs of Asperger Syndrome. We traveled all the way to Albuquerque, and the screening took two days. I remember the day of my screening because I was wearing my extra-large Superman tee, some ratty jeans and a pair of secondhand Chucks (we were poor). They took me into this little room with a two-way mirror (I SO know it was two-way) and they asked me questions. I was so nervous I started rocking and stuttering and telling them all sorts of things that I'd promised I'd never tell a soul, like how I liked watching gay porn (a HUGE no-no in the Mormon faith, porn generally being a major sin). Then I got even more freaked out because I realized that they were going to tell my parents and I started crying. Well, to sum up, my brothers were all under the autism spectrum, my sister was perfectly normal, and I was diagnosed with Generalized Anxiety Disorder and Bipolar Disorder, and my parents were told that it would be a very good idea to see a therapist.

After the whole thing, the woman who had interviewed me took me aside and showed me something in her report that she hadn't shown my parents: it was a paragraph about my sexual preferences. She told me that it was normal for some girls to watch gay porn, and I didn't need to worry about it, or worry about my parents finding out about that or any other gender-specific things. But one word caught my eye and it stuck in my head: androgynous. It had been referring to my physical appearance. I didn't know what it meant, and I didn't look into it, because after we left, my father laid into me about how it would have been so much simpler if I'd been autistic, because my behavior now didn't have a crutch and even more, now he had to worry about another mental problem in his children. So I got depressed and my family got angry. My mom started pushing me to wear makeup, my grandmother had more leeway to lecture me about how I had never been on a date in my life. I compromised and wore girly things to shut them up. I even got my ears pierced (they've healed over since then). And to top it all off, I got a lifetime prescription for anti-depressants. My identity was in crisis. I would often lay in bed and think how much better it would be if I were a boy. I even imagined a whole other life for myself as a male.

And then I graduated high school a semester early, and went to work up in the mountains of Utah for six months on National Park trails for Americorps. And ironically, it was in Utah that something else finally clicked. I met my first lesbian, my first gay man, and my first, second, and third bisexual. I was horrified for about a week, then I found that I liked them. And then they became my best friends. Subsequently I found out that I was NOT a lesbian, and that I was oddly very attracted to gay men. It was also where I shaved my head. I remember dumbly sending my parents a picture of me in a cave with a baseball cap on, but it was very obvious I had no hair. My Dad called and asked me why I looked like a (insert word for butch lesbian). I had no idea what he meant until one of my friends explained it.

Dad was very concerned about what people would think of me. Note that up until this point, whenever we would go somewhere to eat as a family (very rarely since we didn't have a ton of money), the waiter or waitress would always call me 'sir'. And I didn't mind. What I did mind was my Mom saying loudly, "SHE would like--" yadda yadda. And then get a lecture for looking like a boy. I found I would be more embarrassed for the person who made the error, rather than for myself being mistaken for the opposite sex. So it was at this time in Utah after my parents freaked out about my "lesbian"-ness that my friends took me aside and told me that they thought I might be transgender. I was floored, because Mormons are taught that gender is eternal, and that you are what you were born to be, end of story. Thus, I disregarded this and went on with life.

I went home at the end of my tour and went to community college while living at home. I had a gay best friend (who my parents hated), but I was never attracted to him because he was a complete queen and I didn't find that very attractive. I had to keep wearing my girl clothes to school and home, and loved it when I had to go to work at the local Subway because the uniforms were unisex and I was inconspicuous. And then I moved to go get my bachelors degree. And for eighteen glorious months I lived exactly how I wanted to. I was an art student, and I fit in so perfectly with the others in my department that I didn't have to pretend to be anything I wasn't. And then six months before graduation, I got a call from my Dad telling me that they were so proud that I was going to get my degree. And then I remembered my grandmother would be there, and she had so wanted to see me with long hair and makeup my entire teen-and-early-twenties. So I decided to grow out my hair for the first time in a decade, and a day after making the announcement on Facebook, five of my male classmates told me that they were going to grow their hair out too. I asked them why they would do that, and my best friend of all time said, "Because we know you're only doing it because you feel like you don't have a choice. If you had cancer, we'd shave our heads. You're growing your hair out for your grandma, so we're growing ours for you." And that was the nicest thing a guy has ever said to me. Anyway! Touchy-feely over with!

To make a long story short, I walked at graduation with hair down to my shoulders, makeup, and was the only girl there to wear pants under my gown. I had my friends take ONE picture of me. I gave it to my grandmother, and I told her that if she wanted the photo, she would have to promise to never ever give me problems for how I wore my hair or dressed. That night at the after-party, I got a haircut and one of my friends told me that I was the only androgynous person that he'd ever met, but I gave them a good name in his book. That was the second time that word came up. And twice was enough of a coincedence for me. I ended up taking a trans quiz online and came up with being FtM, which made sense, until I read up on gender dysphoria, and realized I didn't want a penis. I had never thought about being a boy in such a concrete way before and the thought of having a penis made me cringe. I liked penises, but not one attached to me. My breasts, however, were different. I wanted these boulders GONE. I also wanted to eliminate my curves, but keep my genitals the way they were. However, if I was spurned for lack of resources by every gender therapist I came across, I was laughed at by insurance and my bank account for top surgery. I didn't even bind because for about a year I was living at home and my mom would NOTICE if my boobs disappeared.

Two things happened then that almost outed me. First off, my Dad condemned a childhood friend of mine for being a lesbian and adopting a child with her partner. I stupidly stood up for them and tried to explain that the little boy they had adopted would have a home with two loving parents and wouldn't have to grow up in a sub-par foster system. My Dad was outraged and asked me point-blank if I was a lesbian. Thank God I was able to tell the truth and tell him no, because I love my Dad, and if I had been and told him so, he would have thrown me out that instant and considered me dead. So that was the first near-miss. The second was when I forgot to delete my browser history and my gay-porn was discovered. And the only thing that saved me then was that my parents were so horrified and sad by the fact that I was watching porn that the fact it was gay totally didn't occur to them. I was forced to confess to my bishop at church, and was forced to attend an addiction recovery class (a Mormonized AA meeting) for a solid year.

I eventually found a job (that doesn't involve me getting dressed up every day) and moved away from home and am just now finding out that the androgynous population is far bigger than I thought. About a week ago I ordered my first binder and I hope that wearing it will help me get over a lot of the anxiety I have about it. I haven't come out to my coworkers or roommate yet (my roommate is convinced I'm a lesbian in denial), but I'm hoping that since they're cool with me looking and behaving 'butch', that they'll take it in stride.

Just the other day I went to an outlet mall and was approached by a sales associate (who was male) and he asked me how I was doing, sir. All those feelings of embarrassment and insecurity came flooding back, and then I remembered my Mom wasn't there. In fact, nobody knew who I was. So when the flustered guy saw my boobs and curves and started apologizing profusely, I calmly told him it was no big deal, and that I didn't care if I was called sir or ma'am, because they both fit me just fine. We then had a great conversation about what size shirt I would need to get once I started wearing my binder, and for the first time in my life, that one person knew me for exactly who I was. And it felt amazing.

My family though, is another matter. It will be a long time, I think, before I'm able to tell them. It will destroy them, I'm sure. My parents have been through a lot of disappointment when it comes to the dreams they had for their children being dashed. I have hope that I can tell my sister (who is the perfect daughter they always wanted), and that she will understand. But I'm just not ready to destroy a lifetime of love and faith.

So I guess what I'm looking for here is a community that I can talk to about these things. People who can be my friends and my advisors as I go through this whole transition. I don't know if I fit the perfect mold of androgyny or even if there is a mold. All I know is that I'm me, RamesesRadio, a boy on top and a girl on the bottom, and I'm here looking for acceptance.

Thanks.

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  • Admin

Welcome to the Playground, RR. Relax, hon, you don't have to fit any molds around here, perfect or otherwise. Just be yourself, and you'll be fine. We have many androgynous folks here, quite a few FtM's, and everything else in between. So please look around, make yourself at home, and read any threads that interest you. You found a place to call home.

HUGS

Carolyn Marie

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  • Forum Moderator

Well RamesesRadio you've definitely had an interesting life so far! And you certainly seem to be on top of things. Welcome to Laura's. You'll find lots of caring folks here to talk to. Please join in the conversation.

Jani

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  • Forum Moderator

Hi RamasesRadio

Nice to meet you :)

I found your introduction very interesting as is many ways I am similar to you but from the opposite direction. Luckily in our family religion does not overrule life so is unlikely to ever be a real issue (as well as me being somewhat older anyway). Obviously a lot depends on your actual circumstances but from what you say I think, with care, you can make progress as your physical changes that you are planning are limited.

I did have a thought, as I often do about the relationship between the MTF and FTM routes. You like short hair - what is the thinking among Mormons about wearing wigs? (I am not familiar with their customs and beliefs). Noting that many MTF's wear breast forms, could you after surgery (if you have it). What I am getting at is that with family you could appear as fundamentally female but live outside of their influence as yourself. I am talking about if you are living away from them. It seems that you are doing that to some extent anyway, I have to say that I do this with some family members, especially my mother, who I am not living with. She is elderly and forgetful so I do limit things when I visit her. I dress androgyne but not girly so she can cope. She has commented about my lipstick in the past but I only say I have worn it daily for a few years (true) and gloss over the subject. I do similar things at work as, although they are aware of Tracy and have seen me in my androgyne / female forms at social events, because of the work I wear tougher male attire.

I find an advantage of being androgyne / non binary is being able to relax in almost any position on the gender spectrum - at least for a while. Personally I just don't feel for extreme male, being mentally more female than male

Just a few thoughts that come to me. It is good that you are here as you with find many friendly folk who are happy to share their experiences, and there has been much written which you can read and find guidance.

Take care

Tracy x

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  • Forum Moderator

Thank you for sharing your story Rameses. Accepting ourselves as we are is difficult for many of us. It certainly has been for me. The ability to share here and read the posts others have made has helped. I'm not alone, while i've learned more than this, that has helped as much as anything.

Hugs,

Charlize

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Guest erinanita

Welcome to the playground RR. You are in the right place. Read lots and talk lots about you and your feelings.

I could be considered androgynous but I prefer at this time to present as female. I am an xxy person, an intersex condition, which means that I am not a male or a female. I was raised as a male and tried for years to fit into the role but it wasn't working. I found out when I was 26 I had Klinefelters Syndrome, a condition that nobody really knew anything about. The information I was able to find out at the time said I should either be in jail, in an institution for the mentally insane and that I had a very low IQ. I knew none of those were true but I made sure I stayed clear of what could have happened. When I was 52, I was told by a doctor that my body never produced any sex hormones and it was necessary for me to being taking testosterone. My wife and I both knew in very short order that wasn't right. I switched to oestrogen.

I knew it was the right decision. I had thought often through the years of having female genitals. I absolutely loathed my male junk, which didn't work anyways. The biggest problems were the relationships I had with my wife, my mother and my siblings. Siblings disowned me, my mother says it's okay to be intersex, but you don't tell people. Like I should go through my whole life being ashamed of myself for a condition that is not in my control and that I should enjoy living a lie for the rest of my life. It was my wife that I was mostly concerned about and I didn't transition until it was okay with her. That took a long time and I am blessed to still have her in my life. My mother loves to visit me but she insists on calling me by my male name and can't understand why all my mail is addressed to Erin. My friends and relatives adjust to that. Many of them still relate to me that way but know enough not to out me. But I also could pass most of the time as male or female if I wanted to. I dress female but for my mother's sake I will sometimes wear men's T-shirts.

I like being who I am and I can finally accept myself although there are a few things I'm still working on. You are not alone.

Erin (Thtufus)

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Thanks for all the positive comments! I KNEW I couldn't be alone in all of this.

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