Boy To Girl - Man To Woman - Or Something Like That...

Its taken quite some time getting all of this off of my chest, 31 years to be exact. All of this self questioning, wondering if I should go through with transitioning, Wondering if it was going to be worth all of the extra stress and adversity. If you could, imagine leading everyone in your life that you've ever loved through a dark cave as one person. Upon reappearing at the other side of the tunnel, you look completely different to them all. Though, at the core of my being, the same person.. I find it truly amazing when I read such nice words in regards to these thoughts turned digital. It makes such a difference to know that these thoughts are being read and that this idea of how someone can live for so long hiding essentially an unbelievably huge part of who they are to even the closest of people is heard. I am not alone in this. I am not the only one like this.. There are many, many people in a similar state of mind and being that haven't found the strength to be who they "really" are. Stuck for whatever reason it may be, living a life not really their own. I am truly thankful every, single, day, that I can now wake up and leave my bed as myself. I still haven't yet gotten over some of the anxieties associated with my physical transition yet. I am sure that will come with time though as I do notice it less and less. Undoubtedly, a large reason for that has do to the amazing people in my life both friends and family.

Reminiscing my high school days always brings a smile to my face no matter what mood I'm in. As free as a spirit could be is the feeling I still get to this day when remembering those memories. The first couple of years were spent with the sole focus of laughing as much as humanly possible. At that time life offered what I can only describe as laugh attacks! Times spent rolling around hysterically at parties, even unable to physically stop! Then it happened, as it did in so many other lives. You meet someone. Mid-way through high school I began a relationship with a girl. (Which brings up another topic related to this that I'm sure to go over in the near future.) This was someone who I, for the first time, shared this emotional connection with that I'd never had until then. Someone who even after a day spent at school together, still wanted to hear their voice, to hear them breath even. What was this strange feeling, this wanting, this feeling of needing the other person around all the time. This emptiness I felt when they weren't around. I loved this girl, and she loved me. Just as a child grows though, so to does a relationship. I would liken it to a ship crossing an ocean, much of the way being spent cruising across a mirror like surface with the odd ripple or small wave. Occasionally though the sea's do get wavy and the end result is sink or swim. I look back on that pat of my life and in ways feel some feelings of betrayal in the manner to which it ended. I am however thankful at the same time to have made the decision to end it. She was the first person to whom I shared my thoughts in regards to my situation internally and the battle with who I was. She wasn't very supportive of it. And to be honest I understand where it comes from. She didn't like the clean shaven legs, she didn't like the fact that I wanted to look more feminine and she certainly didn't like the idea of me having breast augmentation surgery!  There are many more eyes on you when you differ so much from "the norm" and it takes a strong character to deal with all the attention. As my beautiful girlfriend said to me a month or two ago while in the mall  together for the first time "I feel like celebrity!!" The eyes aren't always on me now, they're also on my girlfriend, friend or , or family even. 

So whats the first thing people always ask me. Well that's a pretty easy thing to answer. Even with all of the LGBT movements going on in in recent years, gender and sexuality seem to still be intertwined for the most part. The first question I normally get is; So do you like men now? Well for me anyway, the answer is no. Ive never been attracted to men on a physical basis. Ive always been attracted to females. Never quite got that feeling of attraction when looking at guys. Gender and sexuality are two completely separate things, I cant stress that enough! I supose if you had to label me, trans-lesbian would fit the bill. man I hate labels!!  Till next time! Birthday to celebrate, maybe the birthday candles will be generous this year and provide some birthday boobies :) One can only dream!!!

To be continued...

From Seeds Of Strength

So here my family was left, as if a member of our herd had been taken by the wolves. A mom and three children to take on the world. Sometimes tragedy can be a path to good things, to greatness even. A life without struggles is like food without any taste, or music that you can never hear.  It really is what YOU make of it when you get down to it. Every time Ive been brought to a point of weakness, its pushed me to get through it. Because past the point of despair lies an even greater happiness. Its proven itself time and time again in my life and the lives of those around me. Whether the struggles be from physical trauma or they be in the form of emotional pain. This trait I feel is one that Ive been blessed with by not only my father, but maybe even more so by my mother.

Due to my fathers disease, mom had to take the reigns financially while I was growing up. I clearly remember picking her up with my dad and brother from work at very young ages in the family car after her day was over. Looking up at her third floor window from the street, waiting on mom to come home. She is one of, if not the gentlest of souls one could ever meet, but a tigress when it came to protecting her children. Her love was clear to see for all, it was never questioned and it never wavered. My mother has been able to keep a part of her inner child with her to this very day. That free spirited outlook to the wonders of this world. To say she is strong would definitely be the understatement of the century. She was her children's pillar. She was our stone to lean against when our feet got tired. Our shoulder to cry on when life got messy. She was our caretaker when life got you down, and the best part is... She is still with us. As a child you grow, and in my case grow fast. I remember stealing my moms running shoes for the simple reason that I could now fit in them. I remember her running down the street with me, racing back home my legs feeling as though they were barely touching the ground. I remember that huge smile she had, happy that she was just, there with me... The days where I would come home, clothes soaked with water and mud she wouldn't say very much. Maybe that was because she knew just how much fun I must have had or because she wished she had been there as well. It must have been very difficult raising three very active children. I'm sure the feeling of needing to be split into three must have crept into her mind. What i think helped her was in fact that connection with her inner child. It allowed her to maintain a connection with her children even though it was impossible to be with each of them at all times. To lose touch with your inner child is to lose the anchor of just who you are. Its what keeps you grounded, its what keeps you driven, its what keeps you honest, kind and caring. Your inner child is what allows you to dream big, it frees your imagination from the traps that life sometimes throws your way. It widens your view and broadens your perspective on life, allowing you to take things for what they are...

When I came out to my mom about how I felt growing up, how I had hidden this part of me for so long from everyone, at first there was shock. Which I have to say, kind of surprised me in the beginning due to her having found some of her clothing stashed in my room at multiple times while growing up. I really thought she may have suspected it but just never said anything. It seems that those times to her were just seen as "part of growing up". We were always close, still are in fact. She is usually the first person I seek counsel from for most everything. Though in hindsight, I'm sure there were signs she now sees. Mïta is now her eldest, and Mike is now gone. I have been blessed with the greatest family that anyone could ever dream of. A group of people that see me for the person I am and have always been even though presented in a different form. I see it as a lesson in my life lived. Perhaps karma is a force, a force of what you make it. Be negative in this world and this force will see you to the end in way filled with pain regardless of shape. Live a positive life however, and treasures will fall upon you landing in your path allowing you to pick the up and continue the circle. Never let go of the childlike brightness inside of you. It will guide you honestly through tough times. And if all else fails.... As a wise man once said "What goes around, is all around!*" Words to live by if I ever heard them.

More to come.... And feel free to comment..



* Ricky of the The Trailer Park Boys

Familiar Ground..

As the school years past by and the calendar pages turned, my feelings began to sort themselves out. By the age of ten I knew that I wasn't one of the boys. I started playing hockey around the age of four. Hockey was a good sport for me, it allowed a release of my overflowing energy as a child. It was also one of the first experiences when I positively knew that my thoughts didn't match boys of my age, not even in the slightest. Boys that seemed so focused on being accepted and part of the group. Boys that were strong when many but broke when alone. It was sometimes difficult for me in the change room on the hockey teams. I felt out of place and in many ways out of character. I played hockey in some ways for me, it was fun some of the time, though my main reason for playing it for so long was in fact because it brought so much joy to my dad. You see, when I had played a good game, the happiness and pride that it brought to my father was beyond explanation. Did I enjoy playing hockey? For the most part I did, but it truly was because of the joy it brought my dad. That for me was the driving force to keep playing. To see him smile, to hear the pride in his voice as he spoke to the other parents. It was difficult some times to find motivation, specially on the those August summer days spent out at the cottage and then having to travel home due to the hockey summer camp starting.

 

 Recalling the days at home in my youth bring many smiles. For a while, there was a time where I was simply a kid. The struggle to find out who I was stopped. Sure there were some times were I would be hanging out with a female friend and my psyche would wonder. This beautiful creature in front of me, so similar and yet so very different. The age of ten came, and strong self discovery and emotion along with it. The nights of sneaking female clothing into my room once again began to flood my mind and will. There was that feeling again, a feeling of fulfillment and of being whole again. Like I had the chance to become myself at night, to be calm
and free. Free of the shackles that bound me to the mold of what normal was. Thankfully, in my eyes anyways, I was blessed with lacking the usual kick of male puberty. It came later for me than most kids  and with much less of a kick, more of a gentle tap I would say. To this very day in my thirties and not taking any female hormones, I can barely grow a goatee, my body has stayed as close to hairless as could be, and actually having less body hair than past girlfriends, much to their dismay I might add. I began keeping my legs clean shaven around the age of sixteen, though even there not having very much to speak of. By this time it wasn't about knowing I was different, it was trying to figure out the extend of just what those differences were. At the age of sixteen though, I was still deeply grieving the passing of my father. It was truly a difficult time on two fronts, having these ever growing feeling of who I was and this other reality of feeling forced to be "the man" in the family. Taking care of the power equipment around the house was now all up to me, watching out for my family and keeping them safe was now on my shoulders. There could be no way that I bring the monster of difference to them, not now, and maybe not forever, or so I thought. This monster of a reality that would affect me till my thirties, bending my character to the point of breaking. In my teens I was fortunate however, to live in an apartment in the basement of my mothers house. A haven of self discovery and freedom had finally come to my life and most probably saved my life...


More to come....

To be one of the girls..

I'm sitting here mid memory, wondering what in my mind clicked to female at such a young age. Could it have been something in my early past or possibly a parental problem? Hmmm... Dad was such a stoic person in my eyes. A person that I really did want to be like. He was strong, yet fairly soft in voice, though there was a point like anyone where he couldn't take things in such a soft breath. He was a man of the greatest of pride in his children, and to the very core of his character loved my mom till the day he passed. When I was five, my dad developed Hodgkin's Lymphoma, a cancer of the lymph nodes. He fought four very hard battles with cancer sending the cancer into remission 3 separate times. Each time he would come back and show everyone around him just how strong of a person he was. Though in the end he did succumb to the disease, he left behind a legacy that will never be forgotten. This was a man who struggled with showing deep emotion in certain ways. I can say that I can only recall my dad crying three times in front of me and I can only recall him saying "I love you" twice. He wanted so much for his children that when he first seen me come home from the hospital with a cast around my leg.. He cried. On the day he picked me up from school to drive to Sudbury for an appointment because of his cancer coming back, we exited the van and I had to catch my dad mid step due to the cancer sapping the strength from him.. He cried. The night he passed was an enchanting night to say the least. The snowflakes fell from the night sky that night like stars floating down from the heavens. I remember them landing on my moms jacket, sitting on the fur that lined her hood like small birds in a tree. That night I said my last goodbye to my dad. I was able to hear the words "I love you", I was able to see his last tear fall and to finally see his pain end. When I think of him now, there are certain pictures that instantly pop into my head from my past. Such as the one where we're proudly displaying our catch of fish from our day out ice fishing. Or the one where he's holding me up in the pool, no more than a year old.. Witnessing my dad pass at the age of fifteen was very difficult to say the least. In ways it was a passing of the torch so to speak. His life, battles, struggles, pride and happiness through the days built a foundation of strength in his kids I believe. As a male roll model, one could have no better....

At the age of three, I had my first encounter with the differences in my gender. Sharing a room with my brother, it was very difficult to experience what was calling me. I felt like it had to be hidden, kept away for fear of what would happen if mom or dad would see me. At the age of three you don't know who you are as a person. How can you really when life has taken a hold of you for so little time. What I did know at that time though, was that I wanted to wear certain things that my mom would wear. It began by sneaking articles of clothing to bed before it was time and playing the waiting game till it was time to go to sleep. The joy and fulfillment I can recall having is very hard to put into words. It was like when I was wearing these clothes, that I was removing a mask that I felt I had to wear. That feeling of comfort when crawling into bed and pulling the sheets over yourself, that's the sense of calm that came over me. Also, a sense of delight, blissful like that slow bite you take from a moist piece of chocolate cake. I did this all throughout my childhood, the same routine of sneaking clothes into bed hoping that no one would find out, and every time it brought these feelings, every time! The nights where I was unable to experience that feeling for whatever reason, brought strong frustration usually followed by a punch to the mattress. Living life as a boy at that age for me had to be done. Those were the times, that was the card I was handed. Scared of what would happen if I were to speak my mind and share these "unusual" thoughts of who I was. Perhaps it was the pressure of wanting to please my parents, not wanting to let them down in any way. In a way, sacrificing who I was just to help maintain a sense of ease and not wanting to create chaos. Did I wish I could be like the girls in my class at school? Every. Single. Day...

More to come....

In the begining...

    So... If  you don't know who I am you may be wondering, just who is this "strange/different" person.  Well, my name is Mïta, up until about  8 months ago I had been living my life as a man. From a very young age I have struggled  with the status of just what gender I was.  This is the story of how Mike was finally able to find the strength within himself to become the woman he/she truly was. This is a story of someone living their life... And living another life at the same time. My story is fairly short, 32 times around the sun to be exact. A life filled with amazing happiness, great sorrow and unforgettable experiences. Since realising my true self, life has thrown positive experience after positive experience onto my path. Helping me realise just how precious life is as well as just how short a time we truly have to live our dreams and see all that we dream of seeing. My goal with bringing this out to everyone is to hopefully gather awareness  of transgender issues, to show people that amazing things come to those who are honest with themselves and good  to others.

    My life as Mike began as any other young boys does. I grew up in northern Ontario Canada. I have two younger siblings. I had two very loving and kind parents whose sole goal it seemed was to bring as much happiness and positive experiences in their children's lives as they could. Mike as a child was very reserved though confident and overly kind to most everyone. A bit of a daredevil at times when out in nature or with a bike underneath. Till the age of around 7 I attended Sunday church with my family, not missing very many masses. I was truly blessed with being able to stay connected with nature as a child. My father was an avid boater and snowmobile enthusiast which led to a life of enjoying all this area had to offer. Whether it was swimming, boating, snowmobiling or fishing, everyday was filled with amazing adventure. I sometimes struggled to fit in at school but realised at a very young age that I would rather lead than follow. I spent a lot of time playing the role of protector throughout my elementary school  years. Defending the kids who struggled more than i did with their peers. In a way that role as guardian may have singled me out, helping me see that being different wasn't a bad thing. I was a tall kid, more often than not the tallest in my class even till the end of secondary school. My mom tells me stories she would hear through teacher-parent  meetings of  my role in watching out for those less fortunate than me. To this day I feel that life really does reciprocate what you put into it. It must! Is has to be this way!  Hard work, helping others in need and staying positive no matter what life throws your way I believe are the major reasons I think why life has led me down this path of happiness and self discovery. So then, at what age did I first struggle with feelings that I wasn't the boy in the mirror? Well, my first ever experience in questioning my gender was at the age of 3. You know its funny how I can remember all of these terrible physical pain experiences at very young ages. Such as putting my hand on the stove element at the age of 3, crystal clear in my mind, or the time I touched the glowing red muffler on the lawn mower. Pain so excruciating, my mind imprinted that memory to the utmost clarity to protect my future self from making the same mistake again. Then there's this memory sans any pain, in fact its a memory of utmost calm and happiness. My wanting to to see what it was like to do what girls did and experience what girls at that age experienced. You have to remember that, in those days(god I'm old lol)there was no computer in the house at all!  You went out and made friends in the neighbourhood and played outside, waiting for my mom or dad to yell out into the back yard to come home for supper or lunch. I remember having strong feelings of envy of my female friends. Wondering what it must be like to be like them.. To be a girl.

To be continued...