After 40 long years I have decided to take the next step towards my transition MTF. I have known that I wasn't right for as long as I can remember. And I have never felt true to myself as a result. But the time is coming and I have a long and difficult journey ahead of me...
But, the resources that I need are not readily available to me. I work very hard, paying for my wife to go to university and my son to go to the best school available to us. I give up almost everything that I have for the welfare of my family. And I can't take this next step alone.
So, I am asking for help funding hair transplant, laser hair removal, and Facial Feminisation Surgery before I begin Hormone Replacement Therapy. If you can find it in your heart to help a simple person like me to feel better about themselves, it would be greatly appreciated.
Thank you so much!
"In My Navy Blue Suit"
As I sit here in my navy blue suit, French blue dress shirt, and burgundy tie, I remember a childhood lost in fear and abandonment, confusion and shame.
Just like every little girl, all I wanted was to be a beautiful princess swept off her feet by her Prince Charming. I wanted that pretty pink dress with white stockings and the flowing blonde hair tied up in ribbons. I longed, oh I longed, to be rescued by my dashing knight in shining armor. He would take me up upon his steed and bring me to his castle where we would live happily ever after…
But, in such a rigid Mennonite household, how can such foolery be tolerated? And, should I be caught dressing up, the wrath of God would surely be delivered upon me. With one brother calling me a “fag” while flogging my tiny back and shoulders and the other one taking advantage of such a small feminine body whenever the opportunity dawned, what could be expected of me?
For many years I tried so hard to hide my inner nature. It became everything for me to not divulge my secret… This dirty little secret that I was so sure came directly from hell and the devil. This childhood, which was supposed to be filled with excitement at every new thing that came, was forced silent in a vault of fear.
But even when I hid my inner self with success, the abuse didn’t end. I eventually ran away from home and went where a legalistically pacifistic group would never look for me. I joined the army…
Like jumping from the frying pan to the fire. If my sick habits weren’t acceptable at home, they were certainly not welcome in the military. It didn’t take long before my CO found a reason to get rid of me, and he did just that.
And I was broken. Shattered into millions of shiny little pieces… like glitter in the sun, my dreams of completeness were blown away with the winds of shame. And I never tried to be who I truly am again.
Not a single day passes that I don’t mourn my little girl. And I cry at her loss. Her name was Christina and she just wanted to be beautiful and loved, to be someone’s princess. And she was punished because she existed.
And I sit here in my navy blue suit, french blue dress shirt, and burgundy tie. I remember a childhood like a fading dream. I remember a love lost. And I’ve forgotten who I am.
Please help me to Remember who I am once again!