*Girl Talk Included

   My Mother received a phone call from my Aunt yesterday inviting us up for Sunday dinner. What was more was the fact she wished to have us up more often once or twice a month. We both felt that was nice. We do not get out much and I find it nice to be around family even with the past I have had with many of them.
   My Uncle was the second in my Family to accept my transition. Someone other than my Grandmother was nice. It was just nice to know there was another. They may not show it but I know it has been hard for him and his family to understand what I am going through. However they have surprised me with they're politeness and hospitality. Especially my Aunt.
  Many of my family have been entrenched in the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints (Mormon). This Aunt being one of them. I have learned to respect that of late as I make my own peace with God. However they belonging to the Church makes their reactions to my Transition unpredictable and erratic. Frankly it down right scares me! Why you may ask? Because I do not want to loose any of them.
  Again I keep getting surprised by them. They're eldest boys my Twin cousins flat out said to me in their own ways. They wont cut me off. They wont stop talking to me. Most importantly they don't want to loose the person they grew up with. I practically cried for out of all my family these two people mattered above many.
  Back to yesterday's Sunday dinner we were all hanging about waiting for dinner to finish cooking and the eclipse to begin. I told my Aunt about how I looked in the mirror the other night and saw I had a waist. For the first time since I was five I had a waist! What hit me is what she asked me after I said that. She didn't even hesitate. She asked me if I had a dress to wear to show off that waist! I never expected to hear something like that from her! But I responded in turn and told her no not yet though I have a skirt.
  To be included in such casual Girl talk automatically without a second thought means a lot to me. It means somewhere in their minds I am a young woman. That gives me hope for the future that progress can be made in other areas as well and perhaps with other family members. I have a ways to go and more family to talk to but as Visibly Me Maxine Marie I shall go forth with my best foot forward!

Changing Mindsets...

   It's strange how my own mindset has changed. On many things. One is what I am afraid of or rather how I am afraid of it. I go on evening walks, and have been for over a period of a few years now. Before my transition; before the physical changes took place; I could walk without thinking about what may go bump in the night. That changed however when the Hormones began to change my body. As time wore on I needed to wear a Bra. Even a sports Bra made things painfully obvious something was different about me as I walked down the street. I was not full time and I began to worry I may be hurt or worse for appearing in this limbo like state. Tonight as I went on my walk I noticed I no longer worried about such things. No that worry was replaced with a underlying fear. A fear that hovers on the edges of your mind as you walk along at night as a young woman. A fear of what or who may lurk in the shadows. I have been wolf whistled at and other such things and perhaps that has helped instill such a cautionary fear. I am going to start my walks a bit earlier from now on.
   Another mindset, Sexuality. This one to is strange for me to address mostly because I never really have. For pretty much my whole life I have been struggling with my identity. I have never even gone on a date! I use to believe I was attracted to women. Looking back with hindsight I find that really isn't true at all. I didn't want to be with a woman I wanted to be among them. One of their number. I needed to be. Perhaps that is what I perceived as attraction at the time. Lately as my Identity starts to settle at last on its proper course my sexuality has been saying, "Hey! Hey! HEY!" Waving it's arms about trying to grab my attention. I look about and realize that Men are becoming the focus of my attraction. I just don't know if I can do anything about that at this stage in my Transition. I don't want to. I want the man woman relationship and I don't mean just the sex. I mean the actual relationship. It's something that I just can't do till I have had Reassignment Surgery.
  Emotionally my mindset has changed drastically as well. Before my transition my emotions were nothing more than a summer rain storm compared to the raging Hurricane they are now. They have made me stronger to say the least but the turmoil one can experience within as a woman is unimaginable.
   One last mindset is now that I am full-time and working on changing my name now what? I mean I do not have money for Laser removal yet nor surgery. I suppose I just live and wait for my transition to continue to work its magic. However I feel lost again for some reason. What do I do? I am going to put more effort into my writing but I still am striving for more. I must accomplish the end of Visibly Me Maxine Marie!

Full-Time At Last!

  Yesterday. Yesterday was a Blast! I went shopping with my Mother. After we managed to get the Mother"s Day shopping done we hunted down clothing for my new wardrobe. At last a start on being full-time and a major release of much built up depression and tension.
  We started at Dressbarn in Draper were I found a nice skirt that was practically screaming at me from the rack. The clerk helped us find a nice top to go with it as well. I can't wait to wear and show it off! My Mother while at the counter said she needed some "Bling"; and since they were buy one get one half off I got a new pair of earrings as well; and I love them!
   As we left the store we both were very hungry. Carl's Jr became our next stop for a low carb Turkey Burger.  We are on a special diet but that burger was both delicious and satisfying as usual. As we ate my mother asked me now what, Torrids?
  Off to Fashionplace Mall we drove. I love the style of clothing at Torrids and whats more the clothes fit. When we arrived the clerks were once more immediately helpful as they were on my first visit there about a year ago. They get many Transgender customers and are always glad to help out and making you comfortable while in the store.
  I now have a good start on a wardrobe enough to be me and build on. I know it was hard for my Mother to do what she did yesterday. She has come a long way in a short time in regards to acceptance of my transition. However I now know she wishes to see me happy and move forward in the life I was meant to have wherever it may lead me. At last I am Visibly Me Maxine Marie!



 

Trapped....

 I feel so trapped today my skin, my body the prison. There isn't anything I can do right now to change it. My mind has become once more plagued by the could have been's and the would have been's and most especially the should have been's. The need to's and have to's have joined the mind fray this time as well. I do not know how much more I can withstand.
  I could have been born biologically a girl. Why wasn't I? I should have been. It would have put my life on a course that I see so many acquaintances upon. I should be on that course too. I need to be on that course. I have to be on that course. I should be following that course!
  So people say now I am at least heading in that general direction. I suppose so. Still I need Reassignment Surgery. I have to have it. It is one of the last remaining walls in my head, and the only way I can continue to move forward in my life. I just can't afford it.
   Nine years ago I was diagnosed with a Seizure Disorder. Hit me hard you could say. Many in my family and other acquaintanceship did not really understand and therefore were no help in that situation. They told me to get a job while I was seizing every few hours or so. It took a few years to get it and me under control. By then I had no job history. Has does one get a job let alone money for a Surgery they need with no job history?!
   If I had no job history how did I get money to start my transition you might ask. I had a brief job as a stage tech. It wasn't even part time but I was able to save up enough to see the therapist and later the doctor to get started. Hormones are cheap compared to many other prescription drugs. Once you have your Note to start HRT and get the initial doctors visit out of the way Transitioning isn't all that expensive until you need to get blood drawn again or see your doctor or you arrive at the point of Surgery.
   I shouldn't need to have Surgery. I could have been born the way I should have been born. It would have saved so much more trouble for me, family, and more in the end.
   Why? Why do I need Reassignment Surgery? It will match me entirely as a whole for one. Another reason is Relationships. My Sexual Orientation has made itself known clearly at last. It was never clear I saw my orientation through a fog my whole life until now. I know I was always uncomfortable around guy talk because I wasn't attracted to women the way they were. I didn't see women the way they did. That's right I am attracted to men. I do not know if I can have a relationship with a woman. I think that has been part of my social problem now and growing up. I was expected to and I couldn't.
  At first I didn't know why those OF's popped up every so often like they did today and plagued me so. I do now. It's regret. Regret for a past I could have had, and regret for a Future I may not get to see. A Future I desperately want and reach for with my heart and soul. I will strive for it. I just don't know how to go about getting there. I suppose right there is another reason I feel Trapped.

Passing For Me....

   Funny how things went for me yesterday. The night before I stubbornly bit my lip and put my foot down as I made my mind up to be me the next day. I knew my mother and I would be going around town here in Utah County doing our weekly shopping for groceries and such. That is exactly what I did when I awoke.
   My mother hollered through the house as I was laying in bed that we needed to go to the store. I crawled out of it and went into her room to find her hacking and slashing at things in her game on her computer. I knew I had time.
   I took my time in the shower turning the heat up to ease the aches in my back. My muscles there for some reason keep being pulled and become stiff all through the day sometimes multiple days in a row. Hot water sometimes helps and stops the stiffness from settling in. I also did the usual feminine routine to make sure I was presentable. No girl wants furry legs.
   As I waited for my hair to finish drying and the fog on the mirror to clear. I checked my Facebook. One of the few mediums I have to keep in contact with friends and the local GLBTQ Community. A couple of friends were heading to the Festival of Colors. Damn I wanted to go to that. It sneaked up on me again! Oh well next year I suppose.
   I headed back into the bathroom and started doing my makeup. I can never decide on what Eye-Shadow to use. Only a few shades I have moderately go with my eye color. Finally satisfied I finished applying the rest and went into my mothers room to ask a question.
   I needed socks. Some thin ones, paper thin to be exact. She looked around and handed me a pair. They would do. I needed them for my healed boots. As if I wasn't tall enough already! It was also a mistake to put them on that early.
   My mother wanted to clean up the house by getting rid of all the trash that had accumulated. Spring is here after all and Spring cleaning had begun. I made multiple trips to the dumpster across from our apartment. In those healed boots. By the time we were done and ready to head out my feet and ankles ached. The first person to say I have no stamina for heals gets my heal kicked in their nether region!
   I heaved a sigh of relief as I sat down in the car and we headed off to the store. The employee's at the Orem Harmons were familiar with us. From the cheese guy and gall, the butchers, the bread cutters, down to many of the cashiers. We were valued customers and always recognized us when we came in. Yesterday was no different.
   I got a few double glances but the same smiles I always did from them. However the other customers were a different story. Most didn't even think twice about me when they saw me! If they did double takes I could tell they were looking at my height due to those boots. I was just another average Jane in the grocery store.
   We went to Costco after Harmons. Things there were a little different. I got a few strange looks, but it was not anything I couldn't put up with. I have put up with strange looks before in SLC. Most in the crowds of Costco are intent on grabbing and snatching they're bulks and rushing to get a place in line so they can get the heck out of that mob.
   As we got home and were carrying the groceries in our next door neighbor saw me. I don't know what he was thinking. I know this was inevitable I am me and going to be me for a lifetime. And I stayed me all day Yesterday. I even went on my walk last night as me.
   On my walk a couple funny things happened. I had just left and was at the first light to cross University Prkwy. A group of young adults around my age came and waiting for the light with me. A few kept looking at me. I noticed they were trying to figure me out. Shortly after on another street somebody stopped and asked if they I wanted a ride. This street isn't exactly the place cars should stop to do that. I shook my head and the driver moved on.
   I don't need a Real Life Test. I've already passed. I can pass for people pass me by. I have the confidence to be me. I am now and forever Visibly Me Maxine Marie!

Screaming Me!

                I don’t know if I can do this. Write my story down this way. I want to cry as I type. It is hard to express what I have really gone through in my life. Who am I is where I should begin I suppose. My name is Natalie and I was born a boy.

                I hated that word that phrase, a boy. You’re a boy Nathan. You’re a boy Natalie! I wanted to scream. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Why won’t anyone listen? Why can’t they hear me? I am here aren’t I?

                No for a long time I suppose I wasn’t. For a long time I was someone I was not. For a long time I was Nathan. That hurt me. That depressed me and that practically almost killed me.

                I don’t know what is going through my head sitting here at my computer writing this. How will this help me? I still want to cry. I have to close my eyes and put my hands to my face every so often and breathe just to continue. Keep going Natalie. Keep going.

                I’ve been transitioning for little over a year now. That boy everyone kept telling me to be continues to fade into my past. He still haunts me. Every day more and more I see the real me emerge like a butterfly out of a cocoon.

                I may be all over the place as I write this. I am free-writing my thoughts. Whatever pops into my head I type out. I think it is the only way I can do this in all honesty. I have written blogs about my transition but that seems different than this. Easier even. I am not sure why.

                Natalie keep it together and continue. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! On these pages silent screams. No wonder no one can hear me. My written words have only been shared with a precious few.

                Natalie is not the name I actually go by. It was the name of a Transgender character I made up. One I was using in a story I tried to write of my life before this. It didn’t work out. I don’t know why I brought and kept the name Natalie here. It fits me. Fits me just as well as the name I currently go by.

                Strange how things keep changing in my life and mold around me. How they can go from bad to worse and from worse to good. I am happy. I am a happy girl. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! That’s right I can scream it! I AM A HAPPY GIRL!

                I had to breathe again for a minute. I don’t know why this is so emotional. Why being born a boy would continue to haunt me now that I am becoming the girl I know I am. Perhaps it is because things are coming to a head in my life.

                That is a scary thought at times. I mean where I live I can be hurt easily just for continuing to present somewhat as a man. What do I mean? My transition has reached a point where I can not entirely pass as a man anymore and without a shave and some makeup as a woman. I have some scary encounters none have been while I was fully as me. All have been in that limbo-like state. I am becoming a frightened girl. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

                Lately I go on my daily walks at night. I can wear a jacket still in this warming weather at night. It doesn’t help except to give me a little confidence to be out. Last night however with two jackets on due to the rain they did nothing at all. I was on a section of street that wasn’t well lit at least on my side. The other while well lit had no sidewalk. A car pulled up beside me and its cabin light was on. The guy in side was scruffy mid late 20’s and had a cigg in his mouth and money in his hand. He kept looking at me and following along beside me in his car. He did so for about two minutes before pulling away and I breathed again.

                Hormones do more than just develop your body into a more feminine shape.  Muscle mass is reduced and body fat redistributed as well. What you may have been able to do before transitioning you may not be able to now. Not in the same way. Like opening a can of pickles!

                AHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I have to keep screaming. I have to let it all out. I am so emotionally tense. It has built up all this time all these years. You’re a boy Nathan. You’re a boy Natalie. NO I AM A FUCKING GIRL GET IT FUCKING RIGHT PEOPLE! YOU CAN’T TELL ME WHO I AM. YOU NEVER COULD! You never could. You never could get me.

                You think they can hear me now? Natalie the girl.  No not Natalie. I like the name. I could even go by it, but I am Maxine. Maxine Marie that is me. Although Maxine Natalie Marie has sort of a nice ring to it! Kind of a long name however. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! Perhaps I could use it as a Pen name when I become an Author.

                I suppose this has worked out a little bit. Free-writing a part of me I mean and my experiences. Perhaps I shall put it in my blog. Start sharing it there however I wish certain other people were reading my blog. All in due time I suppose.

                In my blogs I write I usually have a sign off I do when I end something I have written however this wasn’t meant to be a blog. I have Free-written this entire little blurb. I suppose I will just end it with an, AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! 

The Right Life....

  The right life. Is there one? I have always seen myself on a path just next to the one everyone else is walking on. Separated by nothing for I could see the other path and the people on it clearly. Alone on mine I wander. Outcast by God and doomed to a fictional life that was never meant to be. The wrong life.
   Why? I use to and still do ask myself and God this simple question. Why was I born in the wrong body? Was not the hardships I was going to have in life not enough? Did I really need a Gender Identity thrown into the mix? Did I need to be denied the other path and most importantly to me a family of my own one day?
  A family of my own. I would love to have children of my own flesh and blood. That can never be. Due to Hormone Replacement Therapy I am sterile, and I will not go off hormones for the few weeks it would take to become fertile again. There is no guarantee that is possible anyhow. At this point it is Reassignment Surgery or bust. I cannot live any other way. I never could the lifetime of depression I once faced was proof of that.
  My depression. My family nor my doctors never could figure out what was the cause. I remember so many different anti-depressants over the course of many years to help with it. None ever worked and a couple only masked it. I was hospitalized the first time at about the age of five for suicide attempts. Deep down I knew all along the cause of my depression. I was different.
  Different. It took many years to put another term to that word. When I found the term Transgender it hit home  immediately, and just as quickly I denied it. I was Mormon this couldn't be! It meant upsetting my family and at the time my family meant everything to me. Aunts, Uncles, cousins, and Grandparents they all meant the world. They were my world.
   My world came crashing down on me years later. Everyone started having families of their own. Something I never really had and never will. We all drifted apart. I think I drifted even further as my Gender Identity plagued me during all this. What could I do about it? I had nothing to work with and didn't know even where to begin.
  I knew I must find my right life. Living the wrong one all those years had taken its toll. I sought and finally found help. Everything still seemed so hopeless however.
   Hope. I finally had it when I took my first dose of hormones. My depression of nearly thirty years lifted immediately. It didn't take any anti-depressants. It took the simple pills that would help me to become the woman I know I was meant to be in the first place.
   I do not know how my family will see all this. I have never been taken seriously within our family circle. I think that is what really hurts. It's not whether I will be accepted or rejected. It's whether or not they will even take the time to listen in the first place. To them I am still the hyper little boy clutching Grandma's skirts. I doubt they will say anything until they see me wearing a skirt of my own. That is when they will comment and from past experience I doubt it will be pleasant.
  When coming out as Transgender you eventually learn that people surprise you. Many have. A couple have been family. However I can't help but draw a line on many of these people. I have known them too long and they're reactions have been predictable for sometime. Still there is room for growth and understanding and perhaps I may still be misjudging them.
   So am I still living the wrong life? No. At least not entirely. I am getting at least as much of the right life as I can get. One can only go so far when they have been born with the wrong body. I still see myself on this other path. I do not know if I will ever get off it and on to the other one. The right life. Is there one? No not for anybody.

The Merry-Go-Round: A Relationship

   Damn, it's early yet in April and I am already writing my fourth Blog of the month! I have been hit hard this month and it seems to only be getting worse. My life here at home is growing increasingly worse as my mother retreats further into her own little world. Treating me like crap in the process.
   I am practically a stranger she can turn her nose up to now. I believe that is how her mind is seeing it. Her friends in her computer game are closer to her heart than me. Her own child.
   A verse from a song pops into my head. It's from a Hymn from church, "Has given me a Earthly Home with Parents Kind and Dear." Parents, I never had those not in the general sense. As children when that conversation would arise of, "I have a mommy and daddy," I had to respond I only had a mommy. Back then that confused my peers and they asked questions I just couldn't answer. Like, where was my daddy? I only said I didn't have one. For a time I honestly believed I was found under a cabbage leaf in the garden out back.
   My Mother had issues of her own. She didn't know how to be a mother and she never learned how to be one. Her idea of being a good mother was taking me to get fast food and the toy that came with the meal. Which was something that affected my health and my mentality growing up.
   At about the age of eight my therapist and hers told her to leave home. She somehow got it in her head that meant a whole other state! I remember crying begging her not to go and to take me with her. I wanted to go on this trip to. She left and I rarely saw her for a few years. The therapists only meant into her own apartment. I don't know how she made the leap of it being another state. I can only think of one reason. She wanted to get away from me.
   By the age of eleven my Grandmother felt I should be living with my Mother again. I admit excitement at the prospect of living in another state and getting out of Utah. However things were different there. My mother worked nights at the hospital and slept during the day.
  Pretty much that was the next few years despite me going into foster care for a couple of them. My relationship with my mother in Washington was depressing. My family back in Utah met and decided I needed to get away from that. My mothers reaction when she told me was one of the few emotional caring moments I have ever witnessed or remember between us.
  Twelve years ago as we skip over a portion of my life. I came out as Transgender to my mother for the first time. The next morning my Grandmother was immediately at our door to talk to me. Being LDS and Transgender in my mind was taboo back then, a big No No! I believe my Grandmother answering my Mother's call meant, Stop the train! Pull the emergency brake! However I stuck to the tracks for a time and kept moving.
  I remember talking to my mother about me and who I was back then. About how she was feeling about it and how she would feel if I went all the way. She told me,"Your my child I love you no matter who you are or become or what you do."
   Coming back to the present I should have seen this treatment heading my way. It's a merry-go-round relationship with us. It always comes around again only faster with each spin. Things begin to blur and eventually you become sick and need to get off. Yes that perfectly describes the Mother Daughter relationship I have always had with her. As Visibly Me Maxine Marie I suppose it's time to get on another ride. Perhaps I will try the Roller-Coaster!

I am Trans and I am Mormon....

  My name is Maxine, I am Transgender, and I am Mormon. I belong to the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. I was born, baptized, and raised Mormon. I knew by faith I had a testimony of the church, its leaders, Joseph Smith, Christ, and God. However I also knew I was different from the other youth attending church. I was born in the wrong body.
   I didn't know how to communicate at such a young age what I was feeling. What I knew. I remember as little kids when we would talk with each other in primary. The girls would say I going to be a mommy some day. The boys would say I going to be like my daddy. I would think to myself, "I don't have a daddy, but I want to be a mommy." I never spoke this out loud at least to my memory and knowledge. I am sure if I did the Primary teacher would of corrected me and spoke to my Grandmother and Mother about it.
   I have gone over in other blog's about signs I was different growing up. I won't bring them all up here. There is one though that jumps to mind. One while I am in childhood that has always been ingrained in my memory. It concerned clothing, church attire.
   I remember standing in a white shirt, slacks, and my clip on tie. I was at one of the entrances inside the church building. I don't remember if it was before or after, most likely after for everyone was standing around talking and us kids were running around the halls. I was zoned out and observant in this moment, an occurrence that happened at times throughout my life. I watched as girls blew by me in their dresses and skirts. Free and unhindered. While the boys stride was limited do to their dress pants, and their ties flying into their faces. As I continued to look about me I also noticed the adults. They were standing around talking. The women again in dresses, skirts, blouses. Relaxed unless they were trying to control the children running about. The men whether they would admit it or not seemed too hot in their suits. They looked as if they were gasping their last breath and about to asphyxiate. I came to when my name was called I remember that. Before we left I thought, "I won't grow up like those men." I made myself a promise I wouldn't that I would stop it anyway I could. For that was an unacceptable future one I just wouldn't be able to stand. I must be a free me!
  Well like all children in the church you grow older and graduate from Primary. For the boys you become a Deacon. I remember I wasn't really all that excited about becoming one. I didn't like the change imposed upon me. White shirt and Tie was mandatory, and I couldn't get away with a clip on anymore. It began to scare me that I wasn't going to be able to halt it! I had made myself a promise. I won't grow up like those men on that pulpit and sitting in the seats that I passed the sacrament to. I was helpless.
  It was this point in my life I started praying to God. I prayed over and over for him to change me. To make me a Girl. Every night I would do this. Explaining to him why, pleading to him! The next morning I would wake disappointed and at times in tears.
  Before I knew it I was shaving and a Priest in the church. Now I was Blessing the Sacrament. In Priesthood I was being taught how to treat Women. To prepare for a Mission. I was also being taught to one day be a loving and caring Husband and Father that could provide for the family.
  This was all wrong too me. Sure I wanted a family of my own just not this way. I didn't want to be a loving caring Husband and Father. I wanted to be a loving, caring Wife and Mother! I didn't want to serve a mission though I had pressure from family to serve one. It was all wrong to me and my promise to myself was officially and utterly broken.
  I went to Job Corps after that. I wanted my High School and that was the only option for me to get it. I was warned by my Bishop to remember who I was. That too many youth go there and forget and fall away. Perhaps I took his warning to heart for I came out as Transgender for the first time in my life there.
  It was out in public now. Even if it was a closed campus, but two hundred plus students now knew. After a few weeks I had the gumption and guts worked up to tell my Mother. She didn't take it so well, and the next morning my Grandmother was there to "talk" to me.
  I remained out as Transgender and Me while I was at Job Corps surrounded by those supportive friends. After Graduation was another matter. I felt forced into my Bishops office. Things he said made me feel guilty. I tried to be a faithful church member after that. However I no longer felt comfortable there. I felt comfortable no where. I stopped attending.
  A few years would pass and I would make attempts online to contact Transgender community's from time to time. The Bishop's words would always come back and haunt me and I would stop and cut off contact again. Other times I would try and attend church see how old friends were doing. They were happy and I was not. They were moving forward and I was not. They were themselves, and I was not.
  It was around this time that my Home Teacher and former Adviser of the Priest Quarm started coming around. He began Shepherding me back into the church slowly. Eventually I started getting lessons to prepare for the Higher Priesthood. I had been attending church, and reading my scriptures over and over. I worked with the Bishop and when the time came I was ordained. I was an Elder. I still wasn't happy though my family was. At the time I figured that was all that mattered.
   To get into the temple I had to have a job and pay tithing. I strove towards that goal. With all my might I put in effort. I never made it. Oh I made efforts to get a job, but a seizure disorder had other plans. It was a sudden onset. Hit me in the car while I ran a stop sign unconscious and crashed into two others full throttle at rush hour on state street.
  Took them six months to figure out what was wrong with me. For four-five of them I did nothing but lay in a stupor on the couch. Doped up and content to be doped up. I didn't want to to feel anything. Even then I received pressure from Church and Family to get a job. Even while I was passing out in church falling over barely missing chairs and desks and pews.
  A few years later I had moved out of that ward. Church was harder for me to attend where I now lived. I started thinking about God. I started thinking about my Life and all that has happened in it. I became angry, and I blamed the bastard! It really didn't help that a couple years after my move I was enrolled into a school that was founded on Mormon values and Morals. That place was about as Molly as you could get!
  The term Molly Mormon is used at least here in Utah to describe the zealous. Those people who are so obsessed with the church they let it rule their entire lives to the point that it even goes against it's teachings at times. For example when I got there slanderous rumors were still being spread around about a former student that hadn't been there in years! A former Gay student. It took a few months but I found out through overhearing a conversation I wasn't meant to. That those rumors were started by certain staff there. I thought nothing of it at the time, but I did spread around what I had heard. That rumor didn't get told all that often anymore after that.
  It was here at this place I came to a decision at last. I needed to come to terms with my Identity. I told my therapist there I was at a fork in the road. One future leads to Church and Family. The other Estrogen and Gender Reassignment Surgery. I knew though I had to explore the Transgender side of me. I had to get information. I had to speak to others! I can't just live it without doing that.
  So I found a support group to attend. I learned much and reevaluated everything I had thought about before concerning my Gender Identity. Eventually I came to the conclusion despite what the Church thinks and believe this is me. There are things not set in stone. I still hated God at that time. Began to despise him at this point for adding Gender Identity to the list of things going on in my life.
   You see believe it or not I love my Religion. That was taken from me. That is not my choice and I don't believe it is God's. At least not entirely. I do believe it was his words that set it in motion. The Twelve and the Members of the Church did the rest and it will be on they're heads. I cannot comfortably attend nor can I partake of its services even if I live a good life. I guess I do hate my Religion. It is a Love/Hate Relationship.

  It is only now today that I have finally come to make peace with God. I don't know how long it will take to make peace with the Church. I don't know how long it will take for me to pick up the scriptures again and read them with a open heart and contrite spirit. I don't know how long it will take for me to pray every night before bed again. I do not know. I only know that I have knowledge in the fact I am me, and God knows it. And with the peace I have made with him today I have a Testimony that God will not condemn his daughter Maxine Marie Wright.
   

A Family Pioneering....

   I always believed that when the year nineteen hundred hit things in America were changed forever. They were instantly different from the eighteen hundreds. That the west was tamed, everyone had a automobile, streets were paved, and all the major cities were built. I don't know how or why I developed these concepts. Perhaps it was the movies or reading about it in school. I don't know. I do know this I was wrong.
  In the year nineteen hundred people were still crossing the plains on their own two feet if they had to. In the west most streets were dirt even in many major cities. Many towns and cities were still tent towns back then.
   What really blows my mind for a loop is, out here in the west I had family. Family living in one of those tent towns. Pioneering and carving out a life for themselves and their family and future generations to come. Family my Great Grandmother would sometimes tell a story or two about because she knew them. My Grandmother she knew a few of them as well when she was a girl. These people have become legends, heroes to me.
  Back then not sure exactly the year. My Grandmother does. My Great Great Grandfather Lee Mecham lived in one of those tent towns called, Duchesne Utah. He was a striking young man, kind and charitable or so I am told. Perhaps he could have had his pick of any young lady in the area if he had a mind to. However it was Jessie Bernice Peterson that somehow caught his eye.
   She was pretty much the only one in the area educated enough to teach the young. So she became Duchesne's first School Teacher. She lived in a small cabin with her parents and two brothers. Her brothers slept outside on a box spring, the cabin being too small to fit them all. I suppose I could see why Lee Mecham loved her. She was quite beautiful and the west had given her a tough spirit. Personally I believe the tough spirit is genetic. Our family history being what it is and all.
  Well young Lee Mecham would court beautiful Jessie Bernice Peterson at her families cabin. In those days that was the way of things. On his way home he would find her brothers had put molasses on his saddle. They didn't approve of him, and he never complained. Eventually they were married and started a family of their own.
  One story I remember being told to me. After they were married they homesteaded along the Green River. Now Her brother's, and parent's each homesteaded a section down river. Can't remember what Lee was doing either homesteading another section or attending the cattle. But she had to tend a section by herself for a time. There was still problems in the area with the local Indian Tribe so she slept with a rifle under her pillow every night. She knew how to use it too! A tough spirit.
  Grandpa Mecham died in the nineteen forties of a massive heart attack. They had company over and were sitting around telling stories and jokes. He through up his arms like he was about to give out a huge laugh but it never came. I hear tell of people who showed up at his funeral thanking the family for him. People no one in our family knew or had only seen around town. People he had done spur of the moment favors for or helped out occasionally. That was just the kind of man he was, the kind of person I would inspire to be.
   My Grandmother told me she asked Grandma Mecham (Jessie Bernice Peterson) years later why she never remarried. She told her that he was the only man for her. I guess when you have had the love of your life No one else can live up to those standards.
   Grandma Mecham died in the nineteen seventies. She had crossed the plains in a covered wagon and had lived to see man walk on the moon. To have seen the things she has seen in her lifetime. To see the world change around her. I have to wonder just what did she think about it all?
  I do know these stories and photos have giving me a whole new perspective on time, life, and change. Thing's may happen quickly like the industrial revolution or things may stay the same like using a plow for the  last two thousand years or more. I also know it wasn't those things that mattered. It was the people and experiences that were encountered as time, life, and change moved things forward. That's what I Visibly Me Maxine Marie know.

Cute? Me? Huh?

   Cute is a term I never thought people would associate with me. I grew up encased in a very shy shell perceiving myself ugly and therefore ugly to the world. I was never comfortable with myself because I wasn't myself. So how is it now I am suddenly an object of Men's attention?
  I know it is something to do with my recent photos of myself. People have been telling me I look good, pretty even. I don't always agree, but sometimes I see a glimmer of beauty come through.
  I use to daydream when I was young what would it be like to be them. Them being the girls I saw at school. A boy telling me I was pretty in my ear, and if I liked him enough perhaps a kiss as a reward on the cheek. But mostly I just wanted to be able to laugh, joke, talk, and even cry as a girl with a group of friends at the lunch table. I suppose that sounds kind of sappy to some of you, but that was me back then. It was all that kept me going even though I knew deep down that would never be able to be.
   Here I am now though years later. I won't mention how many, and things are quite different. I have been on Hormone Replacement Therapy for little over a year now. Many changes have taken place. Biologically, Emotionally, Mentally, and Spiritually for the better. However I don't think my mind was ready to cope just yet with, Men.
   I have been telling people I am concerned with my Identity first and foremost. My Orientation I tell them when they ask will have to wait in line when my Identity has finished working itself out. That is just it though isn't it. One's Identity is always evolving, growing and moving forward. I can't make excuses anymore about my Orientation. Not in light of recent encounters and more that are likely to follow.
  Recent encounters. Yes encounters as in plural, as in I have had more than one so far. Men have been opening up chat with me on Facebook. Usually it was someone that sent a friend request months ago, and we had friends in common. However I never heard anything from them until that chat box popped up on my screen.
  They start out innocent enough and introduce themselves and say how we haven't really interacted all that much. Though a red flag is raised when after the introduction they immediately say you are so beautiful Maxine. They ask about my transition and again tell me how beautiful I am. I humor them a little by giving nonspecific details and information about myself. Frankly by this point they have already begun to creep me out. The info I give them seems to satisfy them somewhat however they soon get around to wanting to meet me and visit with me in person. I am in no way cool with that!
   During one of these recent encounters I saw a friend online and sought her out as a lifeline. I popped up another private chat window with her and told her what was happening. I asked her "What am I doing to attract this?!" She only responded,"Your cute, people see it." Huh?! Not to mention blush!

   Cute? I will say it again a term I would never think people would associate with me. I have had people tell me even before I started HRT that I will be a pretty girl. I couldn't believe them at the time. Not sure I am entirely ready to believe them now. After all all I am really seeing right now is but a glimmer of beauty in my photos or when I look in the mirror.
   It took me thirty years to get to this point in my life. Thirty years to come to grips and start becoming me. How long will I go before I come to grips with the rest of the world and being Visibly Me Maxine Marie in it?

Destinations......

   When one starts at point A on a map and travels along they expect eventually to arrive at point B. That is assuming that point A was the perfect place to start from in the beginning. For those of us in Transition we don't go from point A to point B and arrive at our destination. Oh no! We have to continue onward for a while longer in a roundabout route to get to the same point on the map of those who don't "need" to transition to feel comfortable in their own skin.
  I was not born Biologically a Girl, but I knew in every aspect of my being I was one from the beginning. Beginnings to Destinations. A lifetime journey of heartache, mental anguish, soul searching, and self discovery.      
    I've watch female friends and family as we traveled through life go from point A to point B. Let's call it Growing  Up. While I had to travel a paralleled road. The wrong road! A dead end.
    My point B wasn't my destination it was Limbo Airport and my Flight was delayed, cancelled, Visa expired. I had to live in that Airport surviving anyway I could. I couldn't go back the way I came, no one can.
   Finally I managed to get a temporary Visa and found a flight out of there but only to land at Purgatory Airways. Point C on my map, and while I still had my Visa I couldn't go any further.
   New concepts came my way here, and I left the Airways from time to time to explore. However I always came back. I had no where else to go.
   Suddenly life there became cruel I had to get out and I bought a ticket. I didn't know where I just had to go. I boarded another plane and left point C and headed to Point D, backtracking a little bit in the process. That made things worse.
   Welcome to Happy Valley! A vacant eyed stewardess with a false smile said as I landed. The phrase was repeated to me many times while I was there, and I too became vacant eyed and had a false smile soon enough.
   Ten years I spent at Point D in a stupor. Ten years that turned Point D into a nightmare. Happy Valley's road sign would flicker in my eyes at times and I would start to seize, and fall to the ground only to wake up and groggily wonder what was going on.
   I moved down the valley to Point E at the end of those 10 years. Not much of a move but it made a big difference in my life. It made it worse. The people here weren't only vacant eyed, they were zealous with Happy Valley! I woke up to my surroundings at this point and the sign stopped flickering and Happy Valley's true name appeared. Hades.
   Hades, how did I end up here? Family and Friends trip's went by so easier than this. I am sure they had their own road bumps along the way, but I am also sure they didn't have to go beyond point B to get there. Now here I am at point E wondering what the heck to do now. Where do I go from here? I was so confused, and not only couldn't Happy Valley help me anymore it scared me.

   I sought answers to Happy Valley and what future it held for me. It was an empty hollow, dark, dirt road with nothing but wind blowing through the trees that over hung it like a tunnel. The trees were lifeless, another dead end.
  However there was another road nearby. It was paved, well lit, and showed promise of answering questions that plagued me. I knew where this road would possibly lead me, but I had spent fifteen years now in Happy Valley, Hades. I had to try something different, something I had not before. I took that first step.
  That first step lead to more steps for I was getting answers. I was changing. Then one day I was happy, for I realized on my own two feet I was getting to a final point on my map. The point friends and family called B, my point F. And when I get there I shall be Visibly Me Maxine Marie!

It Was The Little Things

   In hindsight looking back throughout my life it was the little things. The little signs that I was not like other boys. From certain behaviors that were stamped out of me. To even who I wanted to play with and what particular toy I wanted to entertain me while I did. I remember these things starting at a very young age.
    My first memories ever are around three perhaps four years old, and some of those memories associated with that time make it clear I was different. I remember speaking things around that time. Adopting certain words that seemed right to me to my own clothing. For the other word just didn't fit right in my head. I remember being told that my underwear was not panties and that only girls wear panties and that I was a boy. I know confusion reigned for that didn't feel right to me nor did it sit well. I knew the difference and I knew something was wrong but what? I also called my pajamas jamies and I preferred long shirts to wear if I could get away with it. I was comfortable that way. Time progressed and I got older.
    I had the usual toys any boy would have in his room. Hotwheels and action figures a few stuffed animals here and there. I was about five perhaps six. My favorite cartoon at the time was HE-MAN! I use to run around the house and yard shirtless with a plastic yellow wiffleball bat yelling I HAVE THE POWER! I am sure My Grandmother and Mother were not only amused but relieved. However the only action figures I ever received were the men from the cartoon. I never got Evil Lyn or any of the others, and oh I wanted them. What was more was He-Man had a twin sister SHE-RA! She was secretly my favorite. I really wanted her action figure and her flying horse!
   At that same age I hung out with many girls. The tragic cooties epidemic of the eighties hadn't hit yet. Little girls of course had BARBIES! When I played Barbies with them a Ken doll was always shoved in my direction. I had to say each and every time no I wanted a Barbie doll. I was asked why of course. My excuse, they had actual hair, and so many styles of clothing to switch out and dress up in. As I got older I suppose that got weirder and we all found other things to do. When the girls did play Barbies after that it was in another room and us boys came up with our own amusements.
   Back to clothing I remember throwing fits at having to wear ties. Frankly I never did like the whole white shirt thing. I was totally uncomfortable. I would remember seeing the girls, young women, and older women wearing skirts, dresses, blouses, and how free they seemed to move in them. All the men would stand like they were constipated or about to asphyxiate. I remember thinking I hope that I don't grow up like that. Perhaps that is where I began to perceived that suits are my prison. Specially as I did grow up like that and was forced to wear them.
   A few years later I was about eleven maybe twelve and living in Washington State. Puberty had hit and I was not really liking it. Oh I tried to show a bit of enthusiasm for the peach fuzz I was going to be able to shave. After all the other guys at school talked about growing beards and mustaches. Everyone wanted a goatee. I really wasn't that thrilled. I wanted to remain smooth skinned as I had been. I liked it.
  It was during this time I had a strange but vivid dream. What really stuck out at me was in this dream my foster sister stuck me into a dress. Thing was I wasn't embarrassed, it was me. She tried to make fun of me in the dream but I remember leaving the scene in the dress comfortable and fine as can be. It was this dream that had probably one of the biggest impacts on me.
  I took more notice of how I was changing versus the girls at school. It was all wrong. I felt a barrier go up in my head. I couldn't talk about this I didn't even know what it was. I just knew I was different somehow.
  It was a year maybe two later that I found the word Transgender. I also found the AOL Transgender Community. I was able to get a little information at that time. However this was the nineties and everything seemed so far out of reach and impossible for a young LDS boy to achieve one day.
   Its been many years later since then. I am little over a year into my Hormone Replacement Therapy. I am finally arriving at home in my own skin. I am becoming Visibly Me Maxine Marie.

Limited Limited

  I am down to three shirts, a single pair of pants, limited underwear, and four pairs of socks. That is the result of weight loss when it comes to clothing. My mother had been doing laundry and at the time of my walk it was done. I asked her to please change it over by the time I get back so I could put mine in. A simple and reasonable request under the circumstances. She said she would I was unsure about that considering she was hacking and slashing at things in her game on her computer.
  I left for my walk and found it to be snowing outside, I immediately came back inside and grabbed a second jacket. I told my mother about the snow and reminded her again about her laundry which again received a tedious response. I shrugged and left again for my walk into the snow.
  I did about three miles that day walking in the snow. It wasn't sticking on the ground thankfully but puddles were forming everywhere. I was quite cold and quite thankful by the time I got home. Not to mention soaked.
   When I walked in the house my mother was still hacking and slashing at beasts and monsters on her computer. No surprise there. I simply asked if she had switched her laundry out while I was gone. No came her reply. I'll do it in a minute she said. I replied please do I need to get mine in. Now at times like when she is at work I would of switched it out myself. However it takes only a couple minutes to take clothes out of a dryer put them in a basket and put the batch in the washer into said dryer. Ten minutes later she still had not gone in to do so. I reminded her again by saying Mom get your laundry so I can get mine in. She freaked and yelled at me and stomped up the hallway to do it. She said you have all day to do your laundry. I lost it and yelled back that I didn't have all day. I had no clothes to wear specially now that I had added my pants and jackets to the pile they being soaked. I told her just what my clothing options were which are listed up above. She at least did her laundry went back into her room and slammed her door. Believe she was more mad about the time lost from her game than having to do the laundry.
   As limited as my clothing is right now I really hope she does not get it in her head to take me shopping. She will not face my transition. Every time we are in a clothing store for me it's the men's department and I become depressed. It's like again, mom. Your going to force me to continue to live this way longer? Unhappy and discontent with myself. Not to mention dangerous to dress that way.
   Yes Dangerous! My transition has reached a point where continuing to dress even remotely as a man can get me into a lot of trouble. I know some will argue the reverse to be true as well. However I am more comfortable as a woman and appearing more and more as one.
   Everyday brings new noticeable changes in my Transition. With Spring here and weather sure to turn warmer shortly. I wont have an excuse to wear a jacket to cover up certain changes. It isn't really doing that now and I don't want to cover up these changes. I want to live!
   Perhaps if my mother sees me as me, if she takes her eyes off the computer screen long enough, she can come to acceptance finally. I however cannot spare her feelings on the matter and ignore mine. Right now I'm limited, stuck. I've got to move on specially since I am changing my name and gender marker shortly, and living comfortably full time as yourself is not only a requirement but a necessity. I'm trying but I only have so much to work with and only so many options available to me.
   Finding a job is even more difficult now than it was before. I am writing my book as I look for work and friends are keeping eyes open for me. However I will not get a job here in Utah County. I will not get stuck here of all places. Here where my friends worry about my safety and I worry well about the County in general. This is how things currently stand with Visibly Me Maxine Marie.

Between Me.....

  The County where I live I suppose is safe enough. If you conform to a certain Religious or Heterosexual lifestyle. Good place to raise a family if you fall into the above categories. However as I have stated and mentioned before I do not. I am Transgender and I am Transitioning.
  Lately it has been becoming more evident I am no longer Biologically just a Man. Physically I am appearing more and more each day how I have always felt inside. With the weight I have lost in recent months that becomes even more evident despite my clothes no longer fitting me.
   I remember a couple months ago becoming more aware of my surroundings. I would see men with hunched shoulders heads down. Obvious signs of low self-esteem something I use to have. I realized I was still carrying myself this way. That was not how I wanted to present myself, not anymore! I corrected it immediately. I lifted my head, stuck out my chest, and my posture took care of the rest!
   It was amazing how fast that became habit. I didn't have to think about it specially on my walks. I noticed I could walk faster that way get my heart pumping and burn more calories. Perhaps that is why. My body liked my new posture and it fit me.
   However, as my femininity become more apparent. I started getting strange looks from people. I wouldn't shave everyday or wear makeup. That probably didn't help. It hurt when I did so something I think is do to a worn out razor. But I am getting off track. Strange looks weren't all I was getting. Insults and Bigotry were shouted and thrown my way.
  I started to hunch my shoulders and bow my head again. I had to remind myself where I hadn't to before to keep my head up! I was afraid I can admit that. I still am. Last night in SLC I didn't have to remind myself about my posture it came naturally to me again. But than I was also fully me. Well as much as I was able to be with what I had to work with LOL!
   Looking back in the year and a half when I first walked onto that Pride Center property and attended that first Transgender Group. I am amazed at how far I have come and grown as a person! I am no longer the same person and yet I am. I know that sounds confusing but when I think about the person that I was back then. It's as if they were made from a different mold and it's been thrown away. Never to return!
  Here I am now about what I wanted to write this Blog about. Fear is apart of living no one can escape that. What one can do is not let it get the best of you. I know that living full-time will change much in my life. I've been preparing for it for awhile now. I am at that point in my life, the tip of the iceberg as I described it last night. I just have to step over it. My transition every day changes more and more about me pushing me forward and I need to step up and move with it.
   I have been in this limbo for what has seemed forever, and than BAM! Limbo is suddenly behind me yet for a while there I couldn't let go. I can let go now. I can be Visibly Me Maxine Marie!
 

Pertinent People Of My Past

   This is a Blog briefly touching basis on people who have had impacts on my Past, Present, and for some of them hopefully Future. Some as you will read have faded out of my life with time. Others still walk around or within it.
  Just like any beginning we go back to my early childhood. I think I was around three, and I had met my first friend. Her name was Megan, and we had a lot in common. For one we both had Care bears!
   What ever we were doing those Care Bears were at our side. A symbol of our friendship. Sometimes her little sister would play with us. We gladly included her at times depending on the game we were playing. However we were older and wanted time to play our own stuff by ourselves.
    A little time had passed and another family had moved in. Quite large to say the least and while they lived there they only got bigger. Though at the time they moved in they had only four children, and only one was a girl and around I and Megan's age.
    Our duo became a trio and our range of where we could play expanded. Always under the careful watch of one parent of other. After all we were only about four I would imagine. We lived in Orem a small city full of orchards. Our neighborhood was safe for young kids at least during the day. At night the teenagers were out of control with the night games.
   I remember our friendship remained solid through Kindergarten. At least mine and Megan's. The third party was very charismatic and had made other friends in which sometimes we would play too.
   By first grade Megan's dad had been promoted or found another job in Denver Colorado. I never really saw or heard from her again.
   By than the neighborhood kids in my area had formed sort of a pack. If we weren't in two's at one friends house. We were together playing hide n seek, kick the can, and other such games.
    Around that same time of the age of four or five I formed a friendship with another girl. This one my cousin.  Brittany. I remember when we would drive up to see them in SLC at their apartment being all excited. Oh sure my Aunt and Uncle were cool, but I liked hanging and playing with my cuz!
   There was a really cool intricate sandbox outside their apartment, at least neat in those days! We would be out there playing in the sand being all cool. The other kids had nothing on us.
   Don't remember exactly when, but a year or two later they were living with us while their house was being built. So I may have lost touch with one friend, but I had my cousin to play with now. Our schemes were fun and outrageous! Though our Grandmother always managed to appear if they were to dangerous or got out of hand. Years later at a combined Christmas, our parents were shocked as my cousin and I reminisced about those days.
   When they had moved into their new house. I once more got more involved with the neighborhood kids. I never cut off contact completely. In fact the family of the third party mentioned above was often included in fun and games with my cousin and I.
   Skipping ahead a bit to today. I walk by that old neighborhood often. I look at the old house. Much is different and much still the same. It feels sheltered from the hustle of the City just a short distance from its borders. Safe and naive of things to come.
   In Junior High I was in Washington State. There was a teacher Mr. Moore by name. I had a good relationship with him. Now while I didn't feel like wrestling was my sport I asked if I could be the Assistance Manger. He always had a student as such.
   This meant I cleaned the mats before practice and during if any nasty "incidents" occurred. I also had keys to the gym and other areas of the school. A great responsibility. On top of this, to prevent the Wrestlers from poking and making fun of me. He made it clear If I said extra laps, they ran extra laps. I might mention laps meant around the outside, than inside, and up and down the stairs of the school. I never had to use such authority.
  I also recorded the matches so the wrestlers could learn from them. And I did this throughout the Wrestling season. I guess I just didn't want to be at my Foster Home. Though they made me clean the huge pile of greasy dishes anyways when I got home. My homework suffered while their daughter talked on the phone continuously all night.
   By the end of the Wrestling season at the Pizza party Coach Moore called my name. He told the parents and other school staff there. This is Corey, he's been cleaning our mats of also sorts of "Nasty" things as well as recording our matches and other services. I promised myself I would not let another Assistance Manager go unrewarded for such hard work.  He handed me a School letter and Wrestling Pin in which there was much applause and cheering. Including from the Varsity.
   I was the first to receive a School Letter from my Junior High for Cleaning Mats lol. Though I don't think there was person in that room or at that school who thought it was not deserved. Mr. Moore later approached me and said that thanks to my good recordings, which at first I struggled to do, many wrestlers were able to improve their skills. That made me feel really good that I was able to help them in that way.
    By the time I was fifteen I was back in Utah. Living with a Aunt and Uncle and Seven Cousins. I made eight. Talk about a full house.
   The twins were only a year older than I was. I shared a room with them and I had always gotten along with them. Growing up we had come up with many adventures and in our teenage years this did not change.

   Our adventures in our High School years were elaborate childhood games. Playing tag at night in parks. There was one with large wood structures in shapes like volcanoes and rocket ships connected by bridges. Don't touch the ground or your Automatically it! The variations we came up with were imaginative and fun.
   Another favorite past time we got into was Laser Tag! We would head into down town Provo to CYBORG ASSULT! After a couple matches we would practically be out of money but satisfied.
   We shared however a common love of the arts though each of us expressed it differently. One was good in Drawing, the other music, I loved to write. What we really come together on was our love of gaming. We always wanted to develop our own game. These years however to me seemed safe and sheltered.
   Sitting here and looking back certain things have hit me. I have not had many empowering figures or role models in my life. I seem to judge future friends and mentors on those who have impacted my psyche the most.
   Some of those past relationships now sit on tedious or rocky ground. Both sides at fault. How do we talk? How do we break a tradition of silence in a family that refuses speak on such matters? I don't wish to let things slide and have them gnaw at us. I wish to put them behind us for good.
   Other relationships are gone. Faded into my past. While others only time will tell where they will take me. This has been a telling but brief look into the Relationships of Visibly Me Maxine Marie.

The Transition of Me

   They say when you keep a Journal you will be able to go back through them one day and see how far you have come and grown. Dammit if they aren't right! The same is held true for Blogs.
   This evening I went to a old Blog of mine, one I wrote documenting my first six months of my Transition. As I read them so much past emotions, thoughts, and memories were stirred up that I felt the need to write this blog. Perhaps summarize a few of them and delve a bit deeper into how they have evolved in the latter part of my first year of Transition.
   This first blog was short and brief. It was the only one of January of last year. I had been seeing my Therapist for a while now by this time, and the Note to start Hormones was but a mere three weeks away. I briefly mention how long it took to get to that point, and at last I was about to arrive at it!
  Looking back I can see why I was so ecstatic. It really was the end of one journey and the starting of another. I also want to point out I remember it was here at this point in time that a new friendship formed in my life. One I cherish.
   In February of last year I wrote a few blogs. The first was about one of the final clicks that fell into place. I remember we were going around doing our highs and lows in the Support Group in SLC. It was my turn and I said my name is....Alice and I prefer Female pronouns. I also remember there were a few smiles and heads tilted in my direction. They all new this was a landmark in my Transitional Journey.
   The evening wore on and I was called Alice and referred in my preferred pronouns. It felt great! I think if I had known it would feel so right and apart of me. I would have insisted on such things from the beginning.
   A week later there is another blog. One that touches briefly on things I am still struggling with to this day. It was about me becoming me, the person I should of been from the get go. A Woman.
   I wrote about how most men will look at the beautiful ladies in any given room, and wonder,"What would it be like to be with them?" Basically wanting what they can't have. At least without a little effort and work first, that the woman is all to aware of in the first place. For me I always wondered to myself, "Why wasn't I one of them?"
   I would look at friends and acquaintances of the more expressive gender as I term it occasionally. And I would see them wearing high heels, skirts, dresses, and other such apparel. I would begin to ask myself those why's, and yearn for the day I could wear those things myself as myself.  Meanwhile I was entrenched to watch those friends with that freedom they seemed to not notice or take for granted, laugh and rejoice as they twirled about in the open fields of Womanhood.
   I would become depressed at those times and for awhile afterwards. Hell I just wanted to be me was that so much to ask?! To finally be able to break free and break down this massive wall, a barrier within me that prevents this real expression of just who I really am. The real me.

   I suppose it was too much to ask. At least of God. That is really hard for me to say for I still hate the guy! However I do believe in this freewill we are taught about, and while I didn't choose to be a Woman trapped in a Man's body. I sure as hell don't have to stay that way!
   A few days later another Blog was written. I had seen my therapist. It was the three week mark, I believed I had met my requirements set by her to finally at last get the Note! She agreed.
   She wrote that Note for me to take to a doctor to start Hormones. Estrogen. I teared up, my breath caught, and my head spun! The moment. It was here, now. After all these years, I was starting a journey to full expression of me!
   Full expression. As I think about that and apply it to myself today nearly a year later. It's much more than physically always has been. It just took time for me to registrar that what I was saying to everyone about me expressing me was also about breaking free what was inside!
   By that next week I had another Blog. This one concerning my first doctors appointment. Yes within a week of getting my Note to start Hormone Treatment I had a Doctor and a appointment!
   My new doctor was a very eccentric if not loopy woman by the name of Dr. Nicola Riley. Her office was affordable to someone like me with no insurance and I got a discount If I paid cash.
   She had my blood drawn to see my currant Hormone balance as well as to look at certain organ functions. After all what good would HRT do for me if my body couldn't handle them right? She also did a initial physical something I never look forward to.
  Stating this here and now. I had a appointment for the very next week to get my results and my prescriptions. She canceled on me and moved it a few days later. It wasn't the last time things like that would happen with her and I became very uneasy having her as a doctor in the times to come.
   So it was March the 8th in the next blog, and at last I had finally received my lab results. All was good and I had the green light to start Hormones. At last the day was here!
   I went down to the small pharmacy in the hospital in which my doctor had her office. They happened to have my medications, Woot! A bottle of baby aspirin to prevent stroke and blood clots and my medication was complete.
   The next morning after a much sleepless night. I awoke and hour before my alarm. Immediately looking over to my medication sitting on the table. There they were, the Estrogen and Blockers. I walked over eagerly and took my first dose!
   I hit the button for my coffee to brew and hopped in the shower. Something was already different I couldn't tell what. I dressed and drank my coffee and headed down the stairs. No I bounced down the stairs. That wasn't right either I floated!
   It took me till lunch time to figure out what the heck was going on. All through out the day people were asking me what was going on with me. Telling me I seemed different and where was I getting this energy. So I delved into my mind, heart, and soul and came to a startling conclusion. I was Happy!
   I had never felt true happiness before. It was always clouded, subdued, smothered behind a lifetime of Depression. The Depression, Oh My God! I realized It was gone! In one dose of pills it was gone. it wasn't anti-depressants, but Hormones. Oh My God!
   It was the end of March that my next blog took place. I had titled it A Boy in a Dress? It had been three weeks since the magic of Hormones entered my life. The only real change I seemed to have noticed was my facial hair thinning somewhat, and getting the closest shave I ever had before.
    There had been a incident at a local DMV the previous week that had concerned me. A Trans-Woman had gone to get her Drivers Licence and been humiliated by the staff there.
   It made me think, am I going through all this just to appear as a boy in a dress? But I thought again, that is not why I am doing this in the first place. Who cares what I look like in the end, as long as I am Happy. I was not Transitioning to look pretty. I was becoming a girl because that is who I am.
    April started with me giving a brief life history. Such as hindsight and signs that I was different from the beginning. I plan on going into this more in another blog I wont be touching on this here. Much doesn't seem to happen till the end of April that applies directly to my Transition.
   I had finally told my Grandmother and Mother I was on Hormones so they could tell the doctors at the hospital. I was seizing. They were not happy as I knew they would be. However I needed someone conscious to tell the doctors my medications because I knew I most likely wouldn't be. I was seizing every few minutes. I was in hell, a hell of my own making and folly.
     About a week later after this in another blog I was really excited. My chest was itching like crazy non-stop. Finally at last my breasts were developing. We all look forward to this due to its the one feminine feature most of us achieve and can appear more as the woman we know ourselves to be.
   May was more of the same stuff I had written above, though the last blog in May I had written about something interesting I had noticed. Something other than physical had changed about me, and people, women were noticing.
   I had been getting some strange or ugly looks from women of all ages of late. I began to worry that people could tell I was Transgender already. It had only been a couple months on HRT after all. What was the big deal with these girls and women?
   I wasn't ashamed to be Transgender, I wouldn't of come out in the first place if I was. However this is Utah County, a surreal 1950's bubble contained within the heart of Utah itself. I have to be careful.
   Now I always would receive compliments about my hair and my nails. Strange as that was about my nails many thought I did well and had good taste in the colors I choose. However the magnitude of such compliments started to increase and the time spent on them started to boggle and flatter me at the same time!
   What was going on?! It wasn't until a bus ride to SLC that I finally figured it out. On this particular bus this girl just to the front and the opposite isle of where I was sitting kept glancing back to look at me. Constantly!  I met her stare for stare but didn't care for her expression so kept mine neutral. That seemed to provoke her for she move towards her boyfriend looking back at me all the while. She then put her arm around him and drew him close continuing to look my way. I remember mentally thinking, "Honey I don't want your ugly ass boyfriend or you."
   That's when it all hit me and I grinned to myself. A friend once told me my Pheromones would change and affect me and other differently. I realized that is what was happening. I had entered another world. The man's world was simple tamed at least compared to the Wild Jungles of the Women's.
   Here I was being included weather they knew it or not into this jungle. I was being considered a threat, or an equal, or even the head lioness at times. However I also realized I had an advantage here. I saw all this from a different perspective. I could more than just play I can hunt!
   June. Yes June we have by now come near the end of the first six months of my transition. I have a Blog written about similar things along the Pheromone and Hormonal level.
   I had found by this time that certain foods such as Chocolate now affected me differently. Oh yes! It merely wasn't something you stuffed down your gullet. Chocolate is sensual to the taste emotional to the throat and utter enjoyment to the last bite! Anyone hear bells ringing?
   Another incident occurred involving my Grandmother around this time. I was at her home and she said lean closer to me hun. I did wondering what was up and going on. She said turn your face and close your eyes. I was really curious about what was about to happen now. But all that she did was say I had lovely lashes!
 What?! I became a little boggled as a conversation one in which I was included in started on eyelashes. She told me she wished she had eyelashes such as mine. What I remember thinking of was it was kind of cool being included in such a conversation. One that they probably had similar with various other Female Relatives. That felt good.
    Another blog I wish to touch on briefly is very important to my transition today. For in June I experienced my first round of CRAMPS! And have been every month since. What gets me is I am on the pills not injections, and do not know of any other Trans-Women experiencing such starting that early in their transition.
   I do wish to make a note that in my research puberty in girls starts with one thing or the other triggered by certain Hormones and moves forward from there. This early in Transition and with these symptoms I haven't been able to just shrug off as normal effects of Transitioning. I believe that there maybe a hidden factor in my  case.
   July, nothing of note concerning my Transition in July but a shopping trip. It was a great experience one I hope to repeat one day. A friend from my support group as well as another friend who lived near the mall supported me during this day. They offered advice on clothing and what looked good and what didn't on me. I felt like a girl going shopping at the mall with friends.
   This has been the first six months of my Transition. It is now nearly a year since I started HRT and much more has happened. I stopped blogging for a time and so the latter six months has not been recorded. Here is little of what is going on currently in my life.
   My doctor, Dr. Nicola Riley was arrested for murder, but I found a new and much better doctor in my opinion. One who is taking very good care of me. She adjusted my Medication and my Transition took off once more.
    Emotionally I have been a wreck Mentally as well. What with my transition pushing puberty full throttle I am about ready to throttle someone or something myself! About the only thing that is balanced out is my Spirituality.
    I try to live the best I can. I can only live as me. I know Religion and other organizations and people will struggle with that and put blockades in my path as I go through this life. I'll get through it after all I am Visibly Me Maxine Marie!

The Different Differences of Me

   It's been twelve years since I first came out to the first people in my life that I was Transgender. Friends and later some Family. However looking back that is an entirely different person who did that. I am not just years apart from who I was back then but really a different person.
   The person back then was named Corey, and everyone called him as such. An overweight, insecure, low self esteemed, extremely shy man. He kept walls up to keep people away, other walls were installed by family and society as he went about through life.
   It was these Friends, the core of them anyways, that turned out to be true. They helped break down that shy shell. They told him its okay to be you. Even in Utah. He wished he had listened to them then.
   Instead he listened to Bishops and Family that being Transgender was against the Natural Order of God. He felt guilty at their words.
   Years past as he struggled with this "guilt". He quit smoking, went back to church, played church ball, even received the Melchizedek Priesthood. He felt somewhat happy, and excited at times as he found things in the scriptures. However even the Church and its Temples nor its Priesthood could relieve the lifetime Depression he still carried with him. During this time he lost touch with those friends. It was years and another different person later he would find them again.
    He had moved to Orem. It wasn't as easy here to constantly attend Church and keep his Mind and Emotions  in check. The Depression grabbed him and pulled him under until he was hospitalized. He eventually stopped attending Church altogether.
   This man called Corey had made another friend online. She helped introduce him to Metal. He found his own way from there. This music was his he liked it, no he loved it!
   Looking at his life, he realized he was being controlled and molded. From the clothes he wore, his haircut, even the music he listened to, but mostly his life in general. He started saying No and took control. It took a while for his family to accept that much and most are struggling with that concept to this day.
   It was how this Corey came about. He had long hair now, using the excuse he was a metal head. Though sub-consciously there was a hidden agenda lying underneath. He was a entirely different person from the previous Corey. Stronger no longer shy, but still insecure.
   As time went on this way he was enrolled into a school for adults with learning and social disorders. However they never could diagnose him. It was here he realized that he was at a crossroads and that even straight and narrow paths have multiple courses to travel and purposes in life.
   He asked himself a question. How can he move forward in life if he doesn't know anything about his Identity? He tried the church, and that route was still open to him. However, another route needed to be explored. He needed to talk to others with the same issue and perhaps a professional with background in Gender Identity. He went to a Support Group in SLC the only resource he was able to find.
   No one there sugar coated anything for this Corey. In point of fact they made Corey rethink and evaluate everything they had done and thought of before. Corey came to a conclusion after they had done so for some time. Their Identity was Female.
    Corey had family that wouldn't be happy about this. Due to Church beliefs they think this a choice. Corey though looking back at his whole life knew otherwise. This wasn't a choice in their life, It was their life their whole life! Had been from the beginning perhaps even before their birth.
   A new Corey took shape, as more meetings were attended and he adopted the pronouns there that felt right. She. She was Alice.
    Around this time Alice had established contact with some of those old friends. She would visit them on occasion and notice how happy they were living as themselves. For they were out and about in the GLBT community as well. She took action before the Depression took her.
    Using Facebook as a medium she told all her currant friends and family at once she is TRANSGENDER. She was polite and tried to be as understanding for their feelings as was possible under those circumstances. She felt much better and received much support from various people, some of which surprised her.
   A couple days after that she was with one of those friends again. Smoking. Having a private chat. Alice announced her intentions to start Hormones. That friend just like in the days of old supported her out right but didn't sugar coat it either. Saying this now Good Friends specially one like this are hard to find!
   It's over a year later since then. Alice is gone. Maxine Marie is here and here to stay. My Name Change and Gender Marker papers are being filled out. I am managing my weight, I have Moderate Self-esteem, my insecurity has gone to hell in a hand basket, and if anyone thinks I am shy I pretty much know most of the 70 something friends I have on Facebook in person. This is the Differences of Visibly Me Maxine Marie!