This post is PART 2 in a guest blogger series following author Rachael's transition from an A.M.A.B (Assigned Male at Birth) individual to that of a self-identified trans woman.
If you are just discovering Queer as me, start the story from the beginning here.
They say that being born is extremely painful and traumatizing, and that’s why you never remember being born, well when you come out to yourself and to your friends and family it can be just as painful, if not more so. So, it was a while before I told anyone of what I found, not because I was fearing a backlash or any terrible suffering, but because I was so very curious.
You see, I had lived a life that was very sheltered in one sense. I didn’t know much about sex or gender, as it wasn’t something that I would have asked anyone about, at least that I could remember in my life. Up until 1998 I had never knowingly met a gay person. I was taught that gay equaled evil, and since the information came from people that I trusted and respected, I never questioned.
That’s what I was taught, you see, that my peers or people older than I had more knowledge of things pertaining to most anything and what they taught me was to trust their judgement. So I learned never to ask, thinking, sadly that if it was important they would tell me. Talk about living with blinders on.
Anyhow, I started searching for a way to find others like myself that I could in some way communicate with. I found a website that had a chat feature, and then became a ghost. What that means is that I sat and read what people like me were texting about themselves and the problems being transgender.
It was amazing and wonderful, the things that they were discussing sounded so different than anything I had ever imagined, and yet the way they talked with each other and what they said sounded like it was coming from inside of me. With each passing day, I became more and more certain that I was right. That I was transgender. Not only that, but that I was a woman.
It’s quite strange, you might think, to jump to that type of conclusion, but it felt right. So much so that I started to talk to others on the chat board, pushing through my usual timid introverted self, and starting asking questions.
You’d think that by this time I would have told someone, but no. I didn’t feel that was something I should do.
But knowing without telling my wife, and the guilt that brought was becoming something I couldn’t justify continuing. So, after six weeks of learning everything I could find, I broke the news to her.
Of course, she thought I was crazy, or at the very least mistaken. The man to whom she had been married for ten years had just told her that they were a transgender woman. She told me to find a doctor in town that I could go to and get proof that I was right. But because I knew by this time that would be her answer, I had already found and made an appointment with such a doctor. It was the start of an amazing future, but before I could reach it, I had to go through hell first.