Are people ever transgender and don’t want to be?

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Bob Juch
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Are people ever transgender and don’t want to be?

#1 Post by Bob Juch » Tue Jul 12, 2022 9:48 pm

A friend of mine wrote this:

I HATE being trans. I’ve had to become proud of it, learned to deal with it, but it’s been a fuckin’ nightmare from the beginning. How I wish I’d been born NORMAL, a woman, just an ordinary woman with a uterus so I could give birth to daughters who could surround me in my old age and comfort me, knowing that a little bit of ME carries on into the future.

But I have no children. I’m sterile. Even when I was married, my wife and I never used contraceptives because we DID want kids, and I could never deliver on that duty as a male.

I’ve hated my body ever since I was young too. I thought that thing down there would wither like a dead leaf and fall off. It looked awful to me; stupid, even. It stuck out and got in the way. It hurt when I bumped it or fell on it.

Childhood. I can’t even talk about it. It’s hard to talk about it even to a counselor. My dad despised me. He thought I was a “homo.” I won’t describe the things he did to me. You might not believe them anyway.

Friends. I used to have a lot of them. Now I can count those remaining on the fingers of both hands and have a couple left over.

Rape. No, we’re not going THERE. I know what it is—first-hand knowledge. ‘Nuff said.

Depression. Yeah, we do have the highest rate of attempted suicide in the entire industrialized world. I tried it, first with drugs and alcohol (the slow kind), then considered the quick, messy ways I could end this fuckin’ charade with a sharp knife and a warm bath. But I guess I’m a coward. I got counseling instead—but even my counselor was terrified that I might do it. She asked me to tell her the truth, so I did—and spent an interesting evening dodging cops because counselors must inform the authorities when a client talks about killing themselves.

Money. Oy vey. I used to have life savings, even after my wife cleaned me out after our divorce. Not anymore. I live paycheck to paycheck and constantly scrambling to pay bills. Fortunately, I’m on Medicare, and they cover my meds—but they don’t cover the surgeries unless I’m willing to settle for a numb little dimple down there.

Travel. I have a bucket list: Japan, Jerusalem, and the Taj Mahal, to name a few. Most of those countries would never let me past airport security. The remainder would take me into custody, and I’d disappear forever. I haven’t been out of America since I was still legally male—but I did live in Tucson for four years (working on a master’s degree) and had my ass handed to me more than once. A lovely state—if one is a redneck male who adores Donald Trump.

No, I don’t like being trans, not at all. I’d give anything to have been born a natal female with the correct plumbing so that the wiring in my head, my entire nervous system, doesn’t tell me, day after day, minute by minute, that this is wrong, wrong, wrong. On good days, it’s barely tolerable, like having an itch between the shoulder blades I can’t quite reach. On bad days, it’s like having an army of fire ants marching around under my skin and a feeling of black despair, knowing that I could have been, should have been, so much more.

That I could have been happy, just being a lovely lady, a schoolteacher who comes home at night to a beautiful little cottage with an excellent wife (yeah, I’m a lesbian, and what’s it to you?), with a couple of big, friendly dogs in a yard planted with big roses of all kinds. In this kitchen, I could create a wonderful meal with my lady and two daughters to share with us. Nights when we could all curl up on the couch and read stories to our girls, watch Disney movies, play board games together, giggle, and feel warm all over.

I must stop now because my eyes are stinging, and my writing goes sideways because I can’t see the damn keyboard.

Do I want to be transgender? Hell, NO! Am I “proud” of it? I can be proud of what I’ve accomplished since I transitioned, but I’m not; I never could be proud of my mistakes when I was male. I was a total loss as a male. I never got it down. It was a role, a horrible part that I was cast in, quite against my will. Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to do this, but I had to do it or die.

No, I don’t like being transgender. But the alternative is much, much worse.
I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.
- Douglas Adams (1952 - 2001)

Si fractum non sit, noli id reficere.

Teach a child to be polite and courteous in the home and, when he grows up, he'll never be able to drive in New Jersey.

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