The Worst Kept Secret

On the first visit to my therapist, I was given a questionnaire to complete. One of the questions was, “What is your sexual preference?’ Without hesitation, I wrote, “I want to be a girl.”

And thus it has been for decades. In every fantasy or dream I’ve ever had correcting nature’s disconnect, the measures taken were always complete; the transformation provided the missing internal organs, removed the surplus and added a tittle on that Y chromosome to make it an X. Of course there was also the fabulous figure, great cleavage, stunning gams and thick luxurious hair. :) Sadly, transformation technology that is actually available, regardless of the cost, is a lot less capable.

In regard to my own, real world Transition and Transgenderedness, my ideal state is living my life, fulltime as a woman without ever being “detected” as being born or having lived male. For my personal happiness, I don’t need a “fantasy” transformation to achieve that ideal state. I would have no problem living with the knowledge that I still had a Y chromosome and a prostate and that I didn’t have a cervix, uterus or ovaries. However, to be ideal, those items could never be detectable by others. Unfortunately, that’s not possible, at least not for me. The unexpected, the unforeseen will ensure that someone will know; someone will find out, eventually.

If I had begun my transition in my teens or even early 20’s, I might feel differently. Although the physical issues would still exist, there would be far less “male history” to undo. As it is, I have too much past to elude. Even if I tried to out run it, it would eventually find me. And as things omitted are wont to do, I’m sure they would pop up at the most inopportune times. People feel deceived when they find you’ve omitted key details of your life story and it doesn’t seem to matter that you had good reasons for doing so.

Anyway, I am tired of secrets and I am tired of wondering if the warm smile and happy greeting would change if people knew I once had a penis.

Thus I have come to realize I shall never achieve my ideal state and that’s OK. Bill will never be completely gone. He is the occasional glimpse from the corner of my eye, the not-quite-forgotten thought on the tip of my tongue, that “feeling” that I’m being followed. It may be a comfort to many that a portal to Bill exists; that he lives still and is happy to wander the hills and dales of that past life; that Billie, a benevolent host to a beloved symbiote willingly animates Bill’s existence, bringing it to life with pride and gratitude. After all, though not always apparent, they have been together a very long time.

Is my dream then shattered; that dream to live my life, full-time as woman? A realistic look at my life revealed that everyone I know knows I am a Transsexual. Family, friends, friends of friends, FB friends, co-workers, doctors, hair dressers, nail techs all know; if not from the start, eventually, either from me or someone else. Perhaps the important question to be answered is this, if I am treated like a lady, does it matter that they know I was once a man?

When “just the girls” go to lunch, when my son holds the door for me, when the dermatologist says I have beautiful skin, when I’m chatted up in the ladies room or when my brothers call me “sis,” does what they know about me matter? Should I be concerned about what they might be thinking? I think the answer is “no, it doesn’t matter.” What matters is how we treat each other in spite of what we know.

In fact, it’s better that they know. Then their caring for me is genuine, done with the knowledge of who I am, who I was and who I want to be. There are no illusions for them, no assumptions, only loving interaction despite the truth. They know I once had a penis and despite any uncertainties, they look past them to the person I am, the person I want to be and interact with me on that level. Which, coincidentally, is the level I have always dreamed of achieving; to live my life, fulltime as a woman. And in a very real and practical sense, when I am surrounded by these people who know me and still interact with me as a woman, I am for all intents and purposes, undetectable.

And that my dears, is ideal.

Take Care,
Billie