What is YOUR story?

[Just_G]

Years ago, I was lost. I felt like a freak, like I didn't belong anywhere. Then I found a butch/femme site that had threads and threads of stories....real life stories that I could relate to. Stories that made me realize I was not the only person that had been through what I had over the years. That changed my life. In all actuality, it probably saved my life. I read and read for weeks....the more I read, the more I felt at home with these new found friends. There was an instant understanding between us. It was the best feeling in the world!

Since this is a fairly new site, there is not a lot of history to go back through to read people's stories, journeys, and experiences. That is what I would like to start here. What is YOUR story? No matter how you identify....we all have a journey or something we can share that might help someone that is new to this site, or new to the community in general. I am hoping to keep this a very positive space to share.

[Just_G]

This is something I put in a blog elsewhere, but thought I would start out the thread by posting my journey. I realize that not everyone will want to "put it all out there", I completely understand that. I certainly don't mind sharing my life with you:

Being me has been a hard road mentally. I know we all have our stuff, and I am not saying that mine is any worse than anyone elses, so please don't get me wrong. I just want to let you into my head, into some of my thoughts, my past, my journey, and let you see what makes me tick the way I do. Perhaps this explains why I am the forgiving person that I am; something a lot of people have never understood about me.

You see, growing up, I thought I was a boy. For the first ten years of my life, I was a boy. It sucked when mom put me in those dresses, it sucked when I had to wear tights, it sucked when I had to get my hair curled for family functions and school. I was a boy, I wasn't supposed to be doing all of this. Why did all of that have to take place?

Then, it started to happen. I started looking like a girl. Things were going on with my body that weren't happening to all my other guy friends. When this started to happen, they quit wanting to go ride bikes, play ball, climb trees, and go goof off at the park picking on all the squealy girls. I was floored that they didn't want to be my friend any more. To top it all off, my parents divorced. So, now you have a pre-pubescent, confused, pre-teen that thought she was a boy, torn up by a not so pretty divorce. I started pulling my hair, getting little bald patches on the back of my head....all of this stress triggered TrichoTilloMania; a hairpulling disorder that is usually caused by traumatic events in one's life. (www.trich.org) Boy, if I wasn't different before, I sure was now.

I went through jr. high getting tripped, getting the books knocked out of my hands, getting my locker slammed, and getting called every name in the book that they could think of. "baby dyke"..."hello, you are a girl!"...."lesbo"...."freak"....."baldy"....I hated going to the girls locker room, I didn't belong there. I hated school. I quit sports, the one thing that set me apart from all the other girls and made me happy. I didn't have many friends....I was a freak in my own head, I didn't need them to tell me that. I just wanted to be one of the boys going into the other locker room. I didn't want to shave my legs and deal with monthly girl issues. I just wanted to be with the guys.

High school came and it couldn't end soon enough. I tried to grow my hair, put on make up, and carry a purse just so I would fit in with the other girls....it didn't work, it was too late. They all knew....."she's a dyke" I would hear them say. "No I'm not, I am just one of the guys" is what would pound through my head. I wanted to play football and fit in where I thought I belonged. I was a jock, and had no way of proving who I really was. Doing this whole drag routine and trying to fit in with a bunch of girly girls was not making my life easy at all. To compound the problem, I still pulled my hair. I wore hats when I could so nobody would see what they were doing to me when they were so hateful. My own family told me to "just quit it", but how could they understand? They had no idea what I went through on a daily basis!

I have always been a boy in my head. When I look in the mirror, I don't see a female. I see one of the guys. To go through my entire life, knowing I was born in the wrong body has been such a rollercoaster for me. At several points in my life, I wanted to kill myself. I just wanted it to end....all the hate that I had for myself for being so different was driving me to suicide quicker than the hate around me. Then, when I was 21, my cousin Rob committed suicide. I saw what it did to my family, how it tore them up, how they didn't understand why he did it....how it just shattered that part of my family. I could never do to them what he did. He just saved my life without even knowing it. To this day, my family doesn't know it. I want to tell them, but I don't think they would understand. I had to find a way to go on and not think those thoughts, but it was hard. They always sat in the back of my mind.

For years I ran around with the andro lesbian crowd, because we all had that one thing in common, we all liked girls. I happened to look like a girl, so it was a well suited disguise. I never liked the term lesbian; I didn't want to date the butchy looking girls; I liked the femme ones. I still do to this day....

Then, it happened, light had arrived at the end of the depression tunnel. 8 years ago I discovered the butch-femme website, I thought I had struck gold. There were all kinds of butches on there that didn't want to be called "she" either. I developed a brotherhood of butch friends that understood where I was coming from. I met femme girls that thrived on our masculinity. People that I had never met in person understood me and accepted me more than the people in my every day life. "I am not the only person that feels like this....I am not a freak!!" No more suicidal thoughts, I now had the support of this wonderful on-line community. I read and read all of the threads, and I read stories similar to mine. Butches and FtMs that had some of the same experiences....people that felt as trapped in their biologically female bodies as I do in mine. I felt at peace, at home with these people.

For a long time, I thought that the only way I would ever be happy would be to transition to live as a male. I seriously thought about taking testosterone and changing all together.....but, would that truly make me happy? No, because then I would have lost my family and a lot of my friends along the way. I didn't want that. I just wanted to be me. My therapist asked me one day; "what would be the ideal solution for you?" I told him that if I could have a chest reconstruction and a hysterectomy, I could live like that the rest of my life. I want no association with the physical female part of me, the daily/monthly things that remind me that I am not a biological male. My therapist told me to do what it takes to create my own life, then go out and live it. He was right, and that is what I have done. I had a hysto back in April of 2008, and still hope to get my chest done by the time I am 40...getting closer, but it will happen some day.

It has taken years of self discovery, but I finally accept myself and all the qualities that make me who I am. I am not a freak. I am not a male. I am not a female. I am transgender....a perfect mix of both worlds in my eyes. I accept, that in everyone else's eyes, I may be "different", but to me, I am normal. This is who I am supposed to be. I am not sure why I was chosen for this once, really confusing life; why anyone would have to go through their life not knowing who or what they are. I might not find that reason, ever.

I still have to deal with the derogetory terms, the negativity, the ignorance, and the downright hatred. In fact, I still have bad dreams from a recent experience in my life. An experience that has made me realize that some people think they understand, they say they do, but they truly don't. When they say negative things in regard to my transgender identity, I don't fight back or try to hurt them with words, that would only be doing to them what has been done to me all along. I want to pull them aside and explain to them; to help them understand that not everyone is like them. I can't get mad at them, they simply do not understand.

I hate that I have to explain why I don't dress like a girl, why I don't label myself as a "lesbian", why I don't shave my legs, and why I really don't mind when someone calls me "sir". However, it is something I will have to do the rest of my life, I accept that. For the most part, I just let it be, but when I meet new people, I want them to understand that about me. I feel if I do this, perhaps someday they might meet someone that is like me, and be more understanding and accepting of them. It is my own form of 'pay it forward'....

Peace-
G

[atomiczombie]

Right on G, I can relate to a lot of what you went though, including the suicidal feelings. Glad you came through it bud. My story is here:

http://www.butchfemmeplanet.com/forum/showthread.php?p=12960#post12960

[Just_G]

Geez, I didn't even see that thread....guess I didn't look hard enough. My bad.

[Andrew, Jr.]

Yep, I too know about the separation from family and friends because of who and what I am. Life is funny though. It changes when illness strikes. Mine did when my sister got sick with skin cancer. We all had to come together to help her, and her family. We were forced to talk about what was and what is. Then my sister died. And here we all are. Still talking some what. I think life is very different when you care for someone dying. It changes your priorities. Like spending all my free time at the hospital or detailing a car because she vomitted in it. And telling her husband not to worry about the bill. Things like that matter.

Growing up, the depression and suicidal thoughts, and game plan of carrying it out...yes. I too had that. And I still do. Life isn't easy, or fair. Growing up I was called names like retard, stupid, lazy, dumb, and so on because I failed in school. I was good at sports, and that was my saving grace. It was my inner peace. That is why I was so close to my brother Jay. But he suicided when he was 15 yo.

[Bad_boi]

I was always a tomboy. When I was little I would play with mostly boys because we liked the same things- legos, xmen, hotwheels, capguns ect. I was never much into "girl" games. I always wore guy's clothes as often as I could. I never felt comfortable (Physically nor mentally) in feminie clothes. I'd make exuses like pokemon/sports team shirts don't come in girl's.

When I was 14 and in Jr High most of my friends were guys so they did not mind that I had ratty skater hair or guy clothes. I was pretty happy. I was getting more comfortable with myself untill girls started picking on me. I spent 4 years dressing and acting like a girl. At first it was ok. As soon as I started college I decided enough was enough. I just wanted to be me, to hell with the judgemental people. I got my hair cut short and started wearing guy clothes again. So basically my story is back to square one- I was right all along lol.

[swagger]

i'm 40 and the linear version goes a little like this ...

tomboy kid :2butch:
tried to conform :whine:
boi :3butch:
butch :getout:
grouchy middle aged butch :harley: