I feel like I have lost sight of who I am.
Up until my wife caught me out with my female underwear, I thought I knew who I was and where I was heading.
I had the official diagnosis of gender incongruence and dysphoria and a referral for feminising hormone replacement therapy. I had been wearing female underwear full time for three months, was shaving and waxing my leg and body hair, and sleeping in a nightdress every night. I had pushed the boundaries of being visible presenting female by going out in a dress to a lesbian bar and to a restaurant and even hotel breakfast. The latter was a bit uncomfortable but it felt like part of the journey and an important step so that I almost welcomed the stares and unsubtle comments.
So I knew who I was. I was Nicola. A transgender woman who was working towards coming out and beginning transition.
Then at the end of March my wife found some of my female underwear that I had forgotten to hide. This could have been the crucial step forward in my coming out. The biggest hurdle I faced was having the conversation with her and I kept putting it off because I didn’t know how to do it. Now that circumstance had accidentally started the conversation for me, I could say what needed to be said. Except I couldn’t because she was so upset and talked about suicide. Having calmed her down a little I tried to tell her my story so she could understand but she didn’t want to hear it. After three days of continuous crying, she then stopped and we haven’t talked about it since. She behaves as if it goes away if she ignores it. And she made it all about her and how it affects her. That I have dysphoria or feel unhappy doesn’t seem to matter to her.
Having had to deal with all of that, getting caught out again would have been disastrous so I stopped wearing female underwear and allowed my body hair to grow back and cut my hair which was long and a bit feminine, to short and masculine. To be honest, long hair didn’t suit me and I looked ridiculous, but even so, cutting it felt like giving up on all of my dreams.
Which is what I have done. I have given up on my dreams of being Nicola.
The problem that I now find is that I don’t have any other dreams. Nicola is who I am and the only thing that I want for my future is to be a woman. Trying to look forward and envision myself without that, I don’t know what to imagine or dream of. I don’t think buying a new car is a substitute for living the life I want. Nor is going on holiday somewhere amazing. In fact, if I do imagine going on holiday, I think about going alone so I can present female full time for a week or two and just be Nicola for a bit.
Hence why I feel like I have lost myself. I have tried to close off the one path that I could imagine and give up all my dreams and I don’t have anything to replace that with. It feels like I don’t know who I am as this person who isn’t Nicola. I’m living a lie as a fictional person that I don’t know or relate to or even want to be and I don’t know what to dream of for this person for “his” future.
Then of course there is the fact that dysphoria and gender incongruence does not go away because you decide not to do anything about it for a while. I am still confronted with thoughts of being a woman, still see women and yearn to be like them, wear what they’re wearing, develop a female body shape, be seen as a woman and all that. Constantly. It never goes away.
I didn’t purge my female wardrobe when my wife found my knickers, I have just hidden it away. After a few weeks of leaving it alone, I have begun wearing knickers at weekends again. Not full time like I was, but a couple of days per week gives me some comfort. I was painfully feeling the lack of affirmation that I feel from a bra though. I haven’t worn anything on my chest for two months. This morning I have put on one of my bras and that feeling of comfort of the sensation of the band around my chest just feels so right.
I feel like I lost myself when I put away Nicola and tried to find meaning or something in life as a man. I simply can’t imagine anything in that future and so I don’t know how to be or who I am anymore.
The way I feel now though, wearing a bra and knickers, it’s pretty obvious where to find myself. I am Nicola and there is no way around that.
Just sneaking in the occasional bit of female clothing isn’t enough though. Dressing as a woman isn’t being a woman. Wearing a bra isn’t having breasts. Tucking isn’t having female parts.
But, and I keep coming back to this, if I can’t be Nicola, then who am I?
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