To prove the pudding; eat it

What makes a person a transsexual is, and will continue to remain, unknown.

Numerous pieces of research have been undertaken on the mind, its progress throughout the various hormonal changes in the womb, and the influences of cognative development and social pressures on the young child.

I say that it isn't as simple as how big a certain part of the brain is, or whether a child reaches for a doll or a piece of lego. You can't measure a persons soul by any physical means or observation of their personal preferences.

Just because a woman is a mechanic, does that make her any less a woman? If a man likes to decorate a home, or knit, or sew, does that make him any less a man? No. I have known women who sit with their legs apart and are quite happy to burp in public. I have known men who are shy and will not take the lead in conversations. Does that make them any more or less a woman or man? Of course not.

The research that is being done in this area will only provide a generalisation; it will not be able to apply to all humans and as such will not predict if a child is destined to suffer the burdens of transsexuality.

I have had some prety ill educated people hurt me quite deeply when they find out that I have driven trucks, (or some similar generalisation of a stereotypical behaviour) and have used that as the sole basis for challenging my decision to change sex. I frequently conclude that they don't get out much; or if they do, they don't really pay much attention to what is going on around them. Other people have even used stereotypical behaviour to support my changing sex. It's the same boot on a different foot and it just keeps missing the backside.

It is also nothing to do with sexual orientation, either. Whether I have a crush on males or females has no link to whether I am, myself, either male or female. (man/woman - gender; mental - male/female - sex; physical - there is a big difference between the two)

O.K., so we've now torn down the person to the basics. All outside influences can be removed; they are not relevant. We are left with the individual. We can forget looking for certain parts of the brain being certain sizes and we can forget looking for chromosonal abnormalities (although there are some people who are XXY genetic, etc.) because generalisations are just that ... generalisations.

That leaves the soul. Great; the one thing that can't be seen or touched, let alone measured. There is thus no outside force that can prove or disprove that an individual is or is not suffering. But suffering what? Gender dysphoria? No, a transsexual is gender euphoric. They usually know/feel exactly what they are/should be.

The person will grow up with the cues they are given, so no one will typically suspect that anything is wrong, but inside things will be different.

The first thing to do, is to come to terms with a very nasty split. Who is to say that a woman can't have a penis, or that a man can not have a vagina? The physical does not actually dictate the person. Does a man who has been decapitated from the waist down stop being a man? Does a woman who has had a maestectomy and hysterectomy stop being a woman?

Split the mental and the physical. Then you are on the right track. They have to be taken individually.

For those of you who are just coming to terms with someone who completely changes social role and physical sex, I'm now going to take you one further step to splurting your coffee all over your screen. There have been cases of men fooling the psychiatrists in to allowing them to go through the sex change process, and then continuing to live life as men. I don't know of any women doing this, as to fool the psychiatrists woud require other non-reversable changes, such as starting dormant facial hair growth and the breaking of the voice.

Yep, somewhere around the U.K. right now are men who, if you take their trowsers down, have neo-vaginas.

Now clean the splatter off your keyboard before I take you further through what happened to me.

One of the key things I suffered, was social integration. I did not fit in as a man. After a few years of talking to the psychiatrists, counsellors and all manner of people, I changed my social role when I was roughly twenty one. Most of my documentation changed, along with everything else. As far as the world was concerned, I was a woman. So long as I hid the male parts out of sight, no one gave anything a second thought.

The difference was that I had started to taste the pudding, and it tasted right. I proved it. I was much happier integrating in to society as a woman, and I was able to express me. I was happier within myself. Large quantities of female hormones were used to override the male hormones and I could control those urges quite well. The more of the pudding I ate, the more I enjoyed the dish.

Not everything on the plate, however, was to my benefit. I suddenly became a target, like all women do. Talked over in conversations; my oppinions ignored or treated as irelevent by men. The shock to the system was incredible as I suddenly became a second class citizen. If you want to learn a fresh viewpoint on the glass ceiling and the aspects of the male female divide, sexism and all that kind of thing, then ask someone like me ... someone who has experienced both sides of that particular fence.

Physically, things would not change for another ten or so years. Society had this woman walking around, with male parts between her legs. Trust me, it is something you get used to. You learn to separate mind from body, gender and sex ... you've got to; it is the only way to survive without ending up on a mental ward.

The emotional change was complete. I was succeeding in life as a woman. I was happy in myself, and other people warmed to me. I had proven that I could continue my career and be useful in society. It was the right thing for me to have done.

The years saw me do more talking, more research, more thinking. I had to imagine the unknown. I had to make a choice between male and female physical function. For the first few years, I had pushed hard for the sex change, but brick walls were put up in front of me. Then for the rest of it, I had given up, resigning myself to a life of never being able to fully fit in beyond the surface.

Suddenly, the chance came up. After seeing a psychiatrist a few times over a year, the surgery was offered to me.

A wise person once said that when you are too busy for the change, then that is the time you are ready for it. She was right. All these people who push, push, push are risking a bitter dissapointment; the procedure is non-reversible. So I thought. I looked deep in to my heart, and in to my soul. I decided that the change was right for me. So it happened, and I am now both woman and female (well, as near as can be achieved).

And the important thing ... I am happy.

In truth, I have always been a woman, but before the social change, masquerading as a man. I had to eat the pudding to know whether or not it was proven right. The decisions I made, and the consequences that are faced, are for other posts, but this should give you the heart of the matter. The internal conflicts are now gone, and I just face the same problems that everyone else faces, love life, job, bills, etc.

It's good to be "normal" - **giggles**