| my story - part 4 |
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I'd heard about a GLBT center called Phoenix Rising. I grabbed a phone book, found their number and raced to a phone in a secluded part of the building. Just dialing their number and hearing someone answer was a relief! I told the woman my situation and was transferred to Becky who set up an appointment with a therapist named Carol. Becky, if you're reading this I'll never forget that day!
It's
a week later and I'm getting ready for my appointment with Carol. I
took the day off from work (called in sick!) so I'd have a full day
to prepare physically and mentally. I put on a black, cotton skirt (given
to me by an ex-girlfriend) and tan sweater top I'd just bought. Hmm,
looks pretty good! I spent an hour applying and reapplying my makeup.
I used sunlight as my makeup light which is the most unforgiving light
and it brought out every pore and hard edge to my face. I'm nervous.
Am I going to pass?
After checking myself in the mirror for the umpteenth time I grabbed my purse, got in my car and drove downtown. The closest parking space I can find was seven blocks away. Why isn't there anything closer? A final look in the mirroryeah, I look gooda deep breath and I got out. I glanced at my reflection in a building window. I looked like a woman. Those blocks were the longest seven blocks I'd walked! I subtly glanced at people, no one is giving me weird looks. Good! I found the building where Phoenix Rising is, went inside and took the elevator to the 7th floor. The calm I felt from passing turns to nervousness as I enter Phoenix Rising's door. It's a clean, modern office. A woman in the reception area sees me and smiles. I tell her I'm here for my appointment with Carol. She says to have a seat, she'll be with me shortly.
She asks about my life history, family and goals. She's pleasant, kind and sympathetic. I like her. I ask her about my appearance and she said when see first saw me she didn't think I was her client because she thought I was a genetic woman! That's about the best compliment I could get! Our session comes to an end and we agree to meet next week. I take the elevator down and am back on the streets of downtown Portland. As I'm walking back to my car I'm elated! I'm finally doing itI'm transitioning to a woman! I feel confident knowing I'm passing well and look around more and relax. I find myself walking in my long, masculine stride. A Mexican dude seems to be reading me as he's looking at my big feet (I wear size 10 - 11 women's shoes, but wore 12 back then). I consciously change my gait to a more feminine one and don't get anymore stares. I get back in my car, start the engine and think, I'm passing so well why not go shopping? I drive to Nature's, a new-agey, health-food store and buy something for dinner. I think a couple people read me, but who cares? Portland is a progressive, trans-friendly town and another transgender person is no big deal. From then on I worked as a male and the rest of the time lived as Tara. I found this to be very difficult and don't recommend it to anyone! The worst were Mondays after a weekend when I had two full days as Tara and would have to revert back to guy-mode (drab) for work. I found it took a full three hours to psychologically switch genders either way. I was
letting my hair grow again and had to wear loose clothes at work to make
my breasts less noticeable. I was becoming more womanly and knew some
of the customers thought I was female, as they were visibly startled I had a funny experience after work one day when I picked up my hormones at a nearby store. I had to use the restroom and since I was still dressed in guy-mode figured I should use the men's room. I went in and did my thing. As I turned around a guy walked in, took one look at me and stopped dead in his tracks! His eyes got as big as saucershe was reading me as a woman! He stiffened and backed up against the open door to let me pass. I giggled to myself as I left. Needless to say, that was the last time I used a men's room! I was becoming increasingly depressed at work and sometimes felt physically ill. I'd told the owner about my plans for transitioning and finding work as a woman, but didn't know how I was going to do it. Little did I know it was going to happen sooner than expected! One Friday afternoon he called me into his office and handed me my last paycheck. I was fired! I was in shock for about an hour, then a feeling of elation took over. This was my chance to go full-time! My mind instantly cleared. From that moment on I never had to present as male again! I drove to the unemployment office and filed for benefits. The owner tried to have my benefits denied by claiming I'd voluntarily quit, but later reversed himself and they were approved. I'd worked for him for six-and-a-half years and thought I deserved it! When I got home I took off my male clothes and changed into Tara, permanently! A few days later I packed my male clothes in boxes and gave them to charity. (When I announced it at a support group they applauded!) I took five months off and worked on my presentation as a woman. I had a GG roommate (Brandi) and she was a huge help. I also took voice lessons and practiced hours with a tape recorder. Thanks to my friends and support group my transition went well. I have fond memories of that time as it was fresh, new and exciting! Wouldn't it be interesting if we could change sexes at will? Think how much more understanding we'd be of the opposite sex - especially of women by men! The rest of my story will continue in my journal that started in March '97. I had my sex reassignment surgery in Montreal on March 22, 2001. My SRS was paid for by a generous gentleman.
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