My Transition Journal

 I now understand what it feels like to both feel pretty and frumpy at the same time. A goodwill princess brand dress, frilled shoulders, a lower cut front. Cute on the rack. And even cute on most of my body. But the full package... Well, a man with very small boobs and a still clear man face is wearing it best they can.  I wonder if I'll ever hit the point where even unflattering dresses still look like they are on a woman's frame. Or will I have to always be very selective in my choices so I can pass as much as possible? It's still early in this process. Obviously I understand that. I guess my greatest fear right now is being left stranded in the middle. And instead of looking like an average man, I ultimately just resemble some lady-man hybrid. Transitioning is a leap of faith, because the only way to truly know how you'll look and feel as your authentic gender requires you to shed the current one like old skin. And with much of these changes, they aren't reversi

You are standing at the gates of paradise. Everything is golden, royal, a kingdom unlike anything you've ever seen. As you step forward, you see people you never met but now recognize. And what surprises you most is most of the people you see were not "righteous" by our standards, but sinners and broken people with dirt covering clean hearts. You expect to see this preacher and that preacher--and sure, many preachers are there. Some notable, some not, but what you notice most is some of the most notable aren't there.  "Why aren't (so and so) here? They were popular and always preaching." "Their hearts were rotten. They had perfected the presentation of godliness but it was never something they truly desired. It gave them popularity and a platform... And for some, it gave them great wealth. Wealth that was fleeting and blinded them to what really matters. The heart is what qualifies you." It's a loved one telling you this. A tour guide to in

 I never would have known that my heart would one day lament for the trans community. The displacement I know so well is an incredibly divisive reality for so many. And most of these people would never choose this. Who would choose to not fit? There are many people who believe that sin looks the same in everyone. But if you read what Paul says, we all have our preset boundaries. For some, the idea of eating forbidden-in-the-old-testament meat was still wrong. And it's made clear because they think it's wrong, if they eat it, it will be sinning. At the same time there were people who lived under the new covenant bought and offered by Christ's death and resurrection, thanked God for the food, and ate it without guilt or condemnation. This tells me criteria is different for everyone. Is transgenderism sin? Maybe in some roundabout way like how mosquitoes and gnats, etc... are a product of the fall. Their existence is proof of brokenness and imperfection. As is mine. I will nev

Electrolysis or laser removal? That is the question. Well I find myself in an unavoidable situation. Since I did two full years of minoxidil to grow a thick beard and give that living as a man thing one more go, now I have to deal with the future prospect of being a transwoman with five o clock shadow. I can deal for a while but eventually I will have to pluck (yes, hair pun intended) away the old. If I'm honest, my beard is about the only part of manhood I will look back on fondly. I looked as manly as possible for me and I liked it fine. But to truly embrace trans-womanhood, it is a thing of my past and I won't miss it when it's gone. Or if I will miss it, it still won't be any real loss when compared to getting to live as my authentic self. To switch to another topic, I'm on a higher dose again and excited for the possibilities. I am well into the budding stage and now have to wear a camisole to help smooth things out when in man mode. My hair is getting longer s

What I haven't really talked about yet is presenting as female in public. I do it comfortably around my wife and daughters but once away from these 4 safe walls, I'm terrified. Some may see it and say, "Well that makes sense" or "I'm not surprised". Others will probably say, "You're gonna make an ugly woman. Why do this to yourself?" I think it's interesting that people base authenticity on how you ultimately look. Yeah, of course in the beginning I look like a man in women's clothing. My body was programmed to follow a certain template. Undoing a lot of that with pills isn't an overnight process. And ultimately, I'd take 'ugly woman' over 'miserable but average looking man'. There are movements out there meant to put our struggles in a broad spectrum light, but the intracacies and differing of details is where you find real humans just trying to be okay in their skin. Obviously when all is said and done I ho

Being born in the wrong body is much like being born deformed. Though you may not be ugly or even bad looking, all you see in the mirror is what you wish you weren't. Ugly is in the eye of the beholder. And when you are a woman who has to wake up everyday as a man, it's debilitating and devastating. Sure, there are moments where you can make the best of it. You can even convince yourself that you can make it through life this way. What I learned watching my dad slowly die across three years was that quantity isn't much if it isn't quality. So yes, you can make it through. I "made it through" 29 full years of life, but I wasn't happy or fulfilled or at peace.  I'm now going to play "believer's advocate" and rebuttle arguments i'm sure I'll hear. "Well, we aren't called to be happy, we are called to suffer for Christ, to daily take up our cross and walk." Firstly, when I say happy, I mean some level of contentment. I a

A common question people seem to ask trans women early on is if they plan on getting plastic surgery later on. My feeling is this. I want to be as authentic as I can and my hope and desire and daily prayer is that I develop in those ways without surgery.  I hope my face changes just enough that I read female and don't need ffs. I hope my body, through the magic of those little pills, gives me the chest I've always wanted. None of my hopes are flashy or to stand out but to instead blend in better. The only people that can understand gender displacement are those who experience it. At all times, our skin is a piece of clothing that doesn't fit right. When you look around and see people in your assigned-at-birth gender, most look like their skin is tailor fit to them. They are comfortable as they are and present it with confidence. It flows from them, much in the same way the right outfit makes a person exude confidence and self assurance. So, when you flip it, the opposite ha

When i think about the future, I think about all the things I'll finally get to do. For example, there will come a day when getting ready for work in the morning means putting on makeup. What few people understand about gender dysphoria and those who transition is all of these little things we missed out on are monumental in our eyes. And, from my own experience, having to grow up as a little boy, every time I would see a woman do these little things, I felt like I was truly missing out. 

Women are oftentimes unfairly viewed as the weaker sex. And so I've noticed when people respond to trans individuals, ftm are almost viewed as taking a step forward, while mtf are seen as voluntarily becoming weak and taking steps back. First of all, I don't know one woman in my life who is weak. Their strength is a different kind compared to men but in many ways a much more impressive strength. It's a strength of resiliency and resolve and overcoming many obstacles. Though there will be those who feel I am only confusing my children, the truth is I'm showing them that the value in a person has nothing to do with gender. And in some ways, I'm showing my daughters that by fully embracing my true identity, I find immeasurable value in womanhood. Though born a man, always chained by it, though born a man, have never fit it, though born a man, have never seen it to be any more valuable than being a woman.  In my eyes I've fulfilled my duties as a man. I have provide

Three months today. And my body is still quite manly but with some teenage girl attributes, primarily in the chest region. It's a journey and it all goes pretty slow in the beginning. Having said that, let me offer my thoughts on transgenderism and Christianity. Firstly, the last thing I want to do as a Christ following and a Christ loving person is try to change His words to fit my life. I honestly don't know if He views this differently than sin and I have wrestled with the idea that transitioning is choosing sin. In my case, I don't believe it is. I believe that I was born this way, which is different than saying God designed me this way. I believe that at some molecular level during those 9 months of development, some wires got crossed and a little boy was born who was really much more a little girl. (I didn't have anymore to say on this day)

Church is rarely a Godly place... I think about my mom and dad as a perfect example. When I was growing up, we were at the church whenever the doors were open. Volunteering. Participating. Helping build whatever they were trying to build. My parents were staples of the church. As I've discussed previously, mom and dad had a terrible marriage overall. Dad, abused pretty much daily as a child, was still just a hurt little boy trying to be heard. And he yelled and yelled and yelled. Probably because he had to be so quiet as a child. He was too damaged to function. And his damage, damaged everyone else around him. The spores of mold come to mind. The poison that was on him spread to everyone in our family. He reduced my mom, a lively, adventurous, outside the box spirit, to someone who finds solace most in being alone, someone who's been torn to ribbons, someone who gave her very best and was only ripped apart for it. This was the reality of their marriage, the reality of my parent

Transitioning is not going to fix my life. I understand that. I don't have some romanticized view of it. I am not seeing through rose tinted glasses. My life will remain on a similar trajectory it has been on since meeting my wife. I'm not becoming a woman to pursue a new and more exciting life. I'm becoming a woman because she is lighter and my life is brighter and I can be a better parent and partner. My story is not one of desiring to abandon my current life. I'd be an absolute fool to want to cut ties with the best parts of my life... the best parts of me. I don't desire a new life in any other way than how I get to live it. I can see two paths for my life as it currently stands. At some point, after the hrt has worked more of its magic and I don't look like a man, I imagine just blending in best I can. A quiet life in the public and a much more adventurous one at home, where my wife and kids explore the world together and make new, albeit unorthodox memorie

Guilt has been my reality lately. Guilt that I can't be the person my children need without transitioning, guilt that my son won't have a typical father, guilt that as a man I'm barely alive. Yes, it would be so much easier to not transition and to stay the person that blends in, the typical man who looks the part but feels very little of it. I could stay him or go back to that person but without a divine miracle where I actually fit the man, I will be just as miserable, just as irritable, just as hopeless.  It's like I'm in a car driving away from a city that's on fire. All of what's ahead is uncertain and scary but turning around isn't an option. The only way this transition would stop is if God Himself gave me the keys back to my assigned at birth gender, only if I would finally fit in such a way that no part of me longs to live life as a female. I know that this isn't ideal for everyone involved. If that is the profound conclusion someone who dis

To my surprise, I've found that the farther I get into my day count on HRT, the less I have to say on the subject. I've found that support doesn't mean what you hope it will. It doesn't mean being there to talk to or present enough to care to check on me. For the most part, it simply means "This changes nothing." With me and most of the people in my life, we are already pretty distant, so the definition of support is, unfortunately, the status quo. ... Except, there is now the added element of taking a path they don't begin to understand. People don't want real. They want the mask. They want the easily digestible facade you put forth. My brothers, for example, don't want to hear that in the fundamental parts of me, I've always been their sister. They'd rather I toil in quiet, put away this decision, and present in a way that makes them comfortable.  In fact, I am convinced that it would be easier for them to mourn my untimely death than try

This is my final night in my twenties. I will wake up tomorrow a thirty year old. Only in my wildest imaginations at 20 would I think that 30 year old me would actually be doing it: transitioning to female. Now that it's in process, it feels natural. I've punched the clock of Nathan for nearly three decades, living the life everyone else wanted me to live. And the longer I've punched that clock, the harder it's been, the sadder I've become, the darker my outlook has grown.  If not for this decision to be authentic to myself, this birthday would be a very sad one. It would be something equivalent to finishing an arduous climb, hoping you've finally reached the summit, only to find the climb continues and the mountain is much higher than you ever thought possible. I've climbed thinking every milestone will be the summit. Marriage. Kids. Turning 30. I thought if I just kept climbing, I'd eventually reach the summit and come to a place of contentment with Na

I turn 30 in 3 days. But due to me working the rest of the week, we celebrated a good portion of it today. It was the first birthday where I got to be me entirely. I got girly gifts, was treated to my wife's expert makeup skills to go with one of her gifts: a cute and comfortable butterfly wing dress. The color scheme was purples and pinks, so she helped do the same look with my eyes. And with my hair, she put in a pink and purple extension, creating a fun kind of punk rockish hairstyle.  I'm very close to that milestone age, where the body doesn't respond nearly as well as when you turn 20. And a lot of me definitely feels older. But this is the first time in a very long time where I don't feel old in a rundown kind of wa. I feel fresh. I feel excited. My world has unfolded to show how much opportunity is out there and that my life doesn't have to be an endless struggle. I got to feel like a girl today. And I was celebrated as a girl. A butterfly theme, both girly

I've been more than a little inconsistent lately when it comes to daily journaling. Busy days at work, somewhat lazy days off, and not a ton to say lately. I'm still in the beginning stages but have now started feeling the nipple pain that comes before breast growth. It's very exciting! Exciting first and a tad nerve racking secondly, understandably so, I'd think. After all, even though I've wanted and imagined having breasts daily for a good portion of my life, that was rarely in the context of early stage trans woman scenarios. So, some of the unknown factors make me nervous. Not really nervous in not wanting it to happen--i do want it to happen! More nerves in how it will happen and how those who don't know will react.  

 I think this is my first official day of feeling an effect! My chest hurts. This is my first feeling that hrt is actually doing something. And it feels great. I'm jumping into this with both feet and this is day one of my boob journey.

If I return to the man, could I do it differently? Could I embrace all the parts that I've rejected? Could I enjoy the fashion instead of feeling bored by it? Can I be the father my children need? Can I be him? Can I be him without desiring her? Can I be him while still staying present and a better partner than I've been? Or will this resolve pass and I'll be left miserable as before? The farther into this transition I go, the more hesitance I find. Not because I don't want to experience life as a female but because I'll never truly be a female. I'll have to take estrogen and t blockers for the majority of my life just to keep my body from returning to how it was born. There's no guarantee my marriage will last. There's no guarantee I won't damage my children. If I can live as Nathan and find it not a miserable chore... Shouldn't I? It's easy to consider but the reality is different... The idea of returning to that place is something like bei

Faith being introduced so strongly in childhood can be a combustible thing. You can get so caught up in what it's supposed to feel like to love God when His presence is in abundance, that when the desert comes you're left lost and reeling. And though He makes Himself real and known to you again, the desert is what you most remember, because it was in the desert where you had to find other ways to survive. It was in the desert where you called for Him but only heard the wind. Now I've had a few people try to argue that God never left me. And I believe that's true. He never left. But He did stay quiet when I needed His voice most. And this was in stark contrast to a childhood where He was in my every moment, forced by my parents and cultivated in a way that, unintentionally or not, served to make me seem more spiritually important than I was. All of this set me up to struggle later on in life, because it made my relationship with God an unrealistic and lifted thing. It wa