Looking back, pushing forward…

I’m starting in a new support group, one directly affiliated with a therapy group. I’ll likely start seeing one of the therapists within the month. It’s a good thing for me, as my last therapist – the one that got me the go-ahead to start hormones – retired. My first therapist got things rolling, but their expertise really isn’t gender issues.

It seems that the Transcendance Groups have all retreated online – I need live people in groups, not video chats. The CoVid 19 virus was not the Armageddon so many feared – and I am not waiting any longer for others to get over their fear of it. I had “Original Recipe”, was off sick for about 5 weeks, and I think I’m nearly at the end of the effects of Long CoVid.

It’s time to move on…..

Today was the 3rd or 4th meeting I’ve gone to – and I got homework …. as I understood it – starting a journal.

So – why not just continue my (often neglected) blog?

I’ve been meaning to re-visit earlier blog posts and clarify things or at least change the tone somewhat. This is as good a time as any to do that…. rather than edit the old posts, I’ll simply post anew……

The journey began in childhood, honestly. I was only able to piece things together once I’d been on estrogen (E2, Estradiol) a couple of years. I didn’t have “flashbacks” per se – but something would simply randomly happen that reminded me of something that happened in my childhood. Thinking about it sometimes brings up other memories.

It’s becoming increasingly obvious to me that the signs I was Transgender were there, and I should have known THEN – but apparently, testosterone really screws me up emotionally. All the signs seem to point to me being on the Autism Spectrum, but I haven’t been tested. My first therapist felt testing me wouldn’t help much – as I’d already developed enough coping skills to more or less deal with reality.

Testosterone makes Autism-Spectrum issues worse, and I’m pretty sure Dad had Asperger’s – so that answers the question of where it came from – Dad was always a little distant emotionally.

It’s very likely that Mom took something called DES – but we don’t have a definitive answer on that. We likely never will. Mom also had at least 2 surgeries while pregnant with me. Such stress during gestation can shift hormone balances enough to cause a child to be Transgender.

Studies have shown that hormone imbalance in the third trimester probably is what causes gender issues.

I’m not going to go through that any more right now. Maybe in future posts…

In September 2010, I started to get what could best be described as ‘episodes’ where I’d get overwhelmingly emotional. I would hit some random trigger – and just start crying. Sometimes so much I had to pull over to the side of the road. The generic antidepressants my general practitioner gave me helped SOME – but had side effects I couldn’t deal with. I started being interested in things that no ‘male’ normally would be…

At least, that I would then admit to then. Now – years later – I’m okay with being attracted to guys or girls, or people that are like me.

Testosterone was likely limiting my ability to feel emotions, starting with the onset of puberty. Looking back, it had started to shut me down cognitively as well – probably somewhere between 10 and 12. It was obvious – in retrospect – that between 12 and 14 I was not as interested in learning new things. Despite that, I had managed to learn about electronic theory just from books in the library.

In March 2012, after two years of chasing after answers on the internet, spirally slowly into major depression. I got an answer – I was transgender, a ‘typical late bloomer’ – and I was (to some extent) bisexual. After a few years on hormones, it’s more accurate to say I could have been functionally gay – but for the fact I don’t run at all well on testosterone.

That initial realization – to put it mildly – caused a mind-bending shift in my worldview. To say I went a little insane for the better part of a month is an understatement. I’d been raised a fundamentalist Baptist, at one time a deacon in a church from another protestant denomination. The horrid concept of fundamentalism was something I then still bought into. I spent a lot of time diving into “Queer Theology” and looking at things in the original language.

I’ve blogged about that before, and I’ll re-visit it at some point.

Because of one concerned soul, I’m still here. I hate to admit to myself how close I was to killing myself, I was that miserable. I got talked to by someone that knew what – to some extent – what was going on.

My friend Zoe literally saved my life – though many of the people she introduced to me I ended up breaking away from.

Anti-depressants (selective serotonin re-uptake inhibitors) never really helped me. If your neurology is at odds with your biology, the problem isn’t serotonin-related.

I have issues – MANY issues – that need attention. My mom’s behavior and the theocratic nonsense I’d been force-fed as child broke things. I don’t interact with her, being around her is something I can’t deal with any more. I really missed HAVING a childhood that was remotely like what many of my peers had.

Here it is, over a decade later, and I’m certain who I am, but still muddy on some of the details. My main blog is somewhere I’m no longer anonymous, perhaps it might open a dialog with other transgender folk like me, pour out my heart – and maybe, just maybe – help someone else that has the same issues.

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The Challenges

She says it differently, but that’s the issue – basically throwing away everything you worked for to make a living. That I wasn’t going to make sudden large changes was something that I was “hated on” for by some people in the Trans communities I used to be part of – oddly, most of them no longer exist – or at least don’t show up on the radar.

Some friends (and former friends) took a chance and transitioned (or are still in the act of transitioning) publicly to a greater or lesser degree. Some had marriages explode, others had them remain intact but they changed.

Some had to change jobs, even go into different fields.

Some failed, and I don’t know what happened to them.

Some died – some 40+% of us seriously contemplate or even attempt suicide.

Some succeeded – but not a LOT of them. That’s sad, but the puritanistic hell I grew up in didn’t even acknowledge that people like me COULD exist. The world that actually exists now is hard to grasp as a reality, honestly.

Technology I understand – not this….

The odd situation I’m in – even for a Trans* person – is something of both a gift and a curse. The physical changes that largely shut down my capacity to see myself as “non-CIS” also kept me shut down when it comes to taking any sort of risk. I describe it as “Chemically Intersex” – <shrug> sure – why not? it’s accurate enough. The thing that shut me down emotionally also limited me in other ways.

I couldn’t see any really workable options that didn’t have fatal or near-fatal consequences. Killing my emotional bonds would have killed ME – that’s the most female thing about me.

It’s why I didn’t have a lot of close friends, it simply hurts too much when people move, or friendships die.

…it’s really amazing what I can see now that my mind works like it should….

By the time my body began to shut down those things that kept my mind locked in that state, I was past the “throw it away” period. There was a very rough patch that almost re-railed my life – it’s scary to think about that.

It is NOT fun to be gender-diverse.

It IS fun to be me now, my life hasn’t unraveled. I still have psychological things I need to deal with, emotional needs that I’d like to see met.

That 40+ years of emotional shutdown sucked – but the emotional expansiveness I experience these days makes me so happy at times I cry for the sheer JOY of it all.

The emotional influx can be overwhelming.

I’m public about all this on Facebook – not so much in face-to-face life. I don’t have to be. No one can MAKE me be – and no one should demand I be. I’m not them – I’m ME.

I’m changing – slowly – fast changes were never a realistic option.

It’s difficult to deal with having boobs changing my center of gravity – I would never of SURVIVED a rapid transition.

I think God KNEW that.

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Spending too much time on Plantface….

A Trans* friend on Plantface asked about “how I figured it out” – why I didn’t know I was Trans* since grade school.

I sort of DID know…

The initial statement went “…I knew I was DIFFERENT – from girls and boys, and could point out many of the different ways by age 10 – I had the vocabulary by then. But I hit male puberty about then, and testosterone broke things….”

The longer I run on E, the more obvious it is that I can’t run on T. Many things just WORK now. They didn’t before. Using too much T gel (to get to minimal female-typical T levels) causes anxiety attacks and heart palpitations. I can REMEMBER things now.

I was a handful as a toddler, but based on the examples out of other people’s childhoods, I got more spankings than most. I didn’t fit in, Mom literally tried to beat me into shape. I can’t EVER remember fitting in, I had to listen to and mimic others to not get punished (by Mom or other kids).

I was essentially a gifted child with emotional issues that grew out of my DES exposure. I have the symptoms, so does mom – but the clinic in question was torn down in the early 70’s – the records were destroyed.

Mom was what I’d call hyper-religious – until she met a guy at her job (Dad made good money). She decided to run away with him and drag my sister and I along.

Running from Dad with the Idiot Boyfriend (Robert Steven Eberle, if that wasn’t a made-up name), we were homeless for a time, we missed a lot of meals, I lost a year of school. That 9 months – until we came back home to Dad (no thanks to mom) – was hell on a self-image that was already poor.

Dad re-married – a nice enough lady, but three BOYS was an environment I had a great deal of trouble with. Dad didn’t “get it”, Pat ( my step mother) tried to weld us into a family, and fix me – using “transactional analysis”.

It’s essentially using “logic” to fix emotional issues – some use perhaps, it only ended up giving me tools (some might say “weapons”) to deal with people. It’s a coping skill I still use, but at the time it wasn’t much use.

I had emotional problems because I was running on the wrong hormones, not because I couldn’t THINK (that came later). The emotional issues over-ran things.

“…Subtler Emotions simply weren’t a part of my life for various reasons – until enough things broke I needed medical intervention…”

…subtler things were there, but because I had emotional issues (probably Asperger’s of some flavor – first therapist was of the opinion I had it, but learning just how bad the condition was would cost money I think much better spent elsewhere) – they usually manifested primarily as Rage, Anger, or Anxiety.

Testosterone makes Autism-Spectrum issues like Asperger WORSE. I was really bad in my late teens and early twenties – to the point Dad sent me to live with Mom. THAT didn’t help anything, but I did realize that I essentially didn’t have a family at that point, I had people legally responsible for me until I was 18, and I likely wasn’t welcome to stay in order to sort myself out.

I made the best decision I had available to me. I went into the Navy. The structure helped, and I learned a trade – not the one I wanted, but one that could keep a roof over my head.

…I realized many years later how bad my dysphoria flared at times – specific instances occasionally come to mind – but generally, it simply kept my anxiety simmering.

I met my first wife – please don’t ask me how that happened – it didn’t last beyond 2 years.

SOMEHOW – I met my current wife – we’re still married – that’s something of a miracle. She understands SOME of what I go through – maybe not WHY. I’m still sorting myself out.

Pre-2000, I only remember bits and pieces. I started to un-ravel. The iron grip I kept on my reactions grew impossible to maintain. The person I was – from high school through about 2010 – was a façade held in place by force of will. You cannot keep that up for decades. I’d been acting as that person for 30 years – and was only beginning to understand bits of all this. The reality was that the 10 year old queer kid WAS who I was, and my mother’s hell-and-brimstone vision was a lie <conscious or not>.

I had a breakdown in 2012 <I think, things are still fuzzy in places, and I don’t have a great memory of events – though it’s better on estrogen>

I “froze in place” for a few weeks, and began to sort out what to do – this blog started shortly after that.

Medically, I believe that – as I aged, T levels dropped off. T is converted to E in our bodies. As I was “feminized” to some extent in the womb, I needed E for mental function. More than most men, because of DES exposure in the womb.

After therapy, some soul-searching, study of the issue (I’m an Aspy, EVERYTHING gets researched) – I fearfully crept up on hormone treatment, I never regretted that.

I’m “Chemically Intersex” – a psychologically feminine queer person. I started life thinking I was male because of obvious primary sexual characteristics. I really don’t like being around guys, they’re too loud, too competitive…. but with a different environment as a child, I can see myself having gone into a long-term gay relationship. I have to wonder how the 2012 breakdown might have impacted me if that had been the case.

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This month’s “State of Things” ….

I found myself needing to update things on DeviantArt a bit, so you can find the personal stuff there…


Interesting article about gender and sex, as if we didn’t know this….


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I don’t HAVE to come out at Work…

Most of my interaction is on Facebook, I do have a MeWe Account. The MeWe people I know tend to lean “politically conservative”. I’m not a fan of the political Right, but then I’m not a fan of the “Left” either. Sorry, both extremes are nuts, and don’t really seem to understand (well, MOST) things well.

Concepts that require they be driven “from the top” too often override our Rights.

I think it’s important here to say the phraseology I use about LGBT people in discussions like this isn’t political, it’s technical. Language changes, just get over your political shortcomings….that said, I have more Trans* friends on Faceplant – probably because of political assumptions and other factors like accessibility.

Those discussions a Facebook led to my decision not to come out at Work, unless forced to.

Males are raised (one might say indoctrinated) to assume they’re superior, it’s the “societal default”. If you think differently, I’d ask you to step back and seriously examine things. Even subconsciously, males mostly tend to assume they’re superior or in charge. Trans* AMAB people tend to be seen by ‘typical males’ as broken in some way. That’s communicated to those of us that are Transwomen from our earliest childhood. Males have a pecking order – a dominance that’s typically established be people I consider Bullies.

You don’t have to beat people up to be a bully, sheer “force of personality” is enough. (and it occurs to me that I’m making what many non-trans people would consider a “Woke” argument – it’s not, but whatever).

This will not change soon.

Family and friends DO abandon you when you admit who you are to them. I’ve heard 80% of friends and family leave – but I don’t think that’s from a study.

I have about 4 years until I retire. I’m in the home stretch. It would be nice to be able to come out – but personalities aren’t always going to align with Corporate Policy, no matter how LGBT-friendly it is.

I’m also not changing very fast so far as looks are concerned – my breasts are indistinguishable from “moobs” still. The “guy gut” is still a thing. I could lose 50 pounds and never miss it.

CoVid impacted me pretty badly. I’m still dealing with “Long CoVid” issues.

I got the J&J vaccine last week. I got sick as a dog that night. I didn’t want to get it, but work demanded it, or I pay a $100/month additional for health insurance – I can’t afford that, I have transition things to do.

I lost a lot of muscle mass/tone when I was sick, and I’m only now getting rid of the nausea and vertigo. I was in bed about 3 days, I was off work 5 weeks. Basically “all ahead dead slow’ transition-wise for almost a year now.

I don’t see a point to coming out at work until I’m forced to – between loss of ‘gravitas’, potential loss of the job (however remote that is), and dealing with whatever shifts in relationships at work might happen – work isn’t a big enough part of life to worry about. I’d still be wearing the same ugly uniform.


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“Some are this way from the Womb”

We really have no idea that we’re playing with fire, do we?

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Where Music and Engineering Meet

A Song of Joy by Caroline Furlong

Mathematics is a universal language. No matter where one travels, two and two will always equal four, one plus one will always equal two, and so on and so forth. Even if you are dealing with a primitive people whose language is unknown to you and the rest of the world, they will still be able to add and subtract.

In the same manner, music is a universal tongue. While certain types of music may not appeal to everyone, people the world over know music when they hear it. And they will react to it as humans will.

So what happens when music and math meet in an engineer’s mind? Take a look at the videos below to find out, readers!

Wintergatan – Marble Machine (music instrument using 2000 marbles)

La valse d’Amelie – Vibraphone Test Melody – Marble Machine X 105

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Coming Out

A friend recently asked me if I plan to come out at work.

Strangely enough, the answer is really dependent on whether or not I can still pass as a GUY before I retire.

I already get quizzical looks, and I honestly get a giggle out of some people’s reactions. While I haven’t been physically assaulted since I was 14, the arguments of some ill-tempered assholes still give me pause. What would they do if they KNEW I was transgender?

The self-righteousness of some people seems to over-ride their insistence that all of us have the same rights.

THEIR rights to not see or interact with people like me seems to be ‘more equal’ in their eyes, and I have zero rights to object, or lay claim my right to exist, expect decent modern medical treatment, etc. The tendency of some to shout me down makes it obvious, that they’re hypocrites of the first order.


It’s Texas, and every time something rains on their sad little parade of personal supremacy, their assholery pops out like mushrooms – ugly, squatty, stinky mushrooms.

From the other side of the room, Other People seem to think their political goals (of which they demand I should be a part) over-rides the individual rights outlined in the Constitution. Sorry, as far as THOSE people are concerned, I’m the Lone Ranger. …and I’ve got a great f***ing theme song.

“are you coming out?”

“…no thanks, I’m staying inside where it’s cool and I don’t get sunburn”

I get it, but I work so much better now, on estradiol, that additional changes don’t seem as necessary – clothes, makeup, surgery, and so on. At my age – 62 – I look back and I’m really rather pleased I’m ALIVE.

I’m too old to PUSH certain things, but not too old to change as the necessity becomes apparent.

…but – if I ever CoPlay as Jessica Rabbit, I’ll make sure to post some photos…..

Three years ago I was still an anxious, depressed older man incapable of basic decision-making. The difference is *dramatic* from my point of view. Posts like this are PART of coming out. We’re social animals, we need interaction, I need feedback.

I’m happy for the first bloody time in my life, I’m not jumping through any hoops to make someone else happy that isn’t themselves actually dedicated to making ME happy. I understand the nature of compromise, I played that game far too long.

“Southern Baptist” isn’t “Christian”, sorry…..

If I were in my 20’s….. even 30’s – maybe I’d push slightly harder at publicly presenting female.

I am not an ‘activist’ – though to some (usually on the political “right”) it might appear that I’m being one simply by not continuing to cower in my closet.

But I’m just a girl trying to sort out life from the inside of a very male and somewhat overweight (still) body. I’m just another human in an unusual situation.

I don’t owe “The Transgender Community” anything, I never PROMISED them anything. I may owe some individuals in said community the return of a few favors (mainly for pointing out where to look) – but if you know me, you know I’m not a Believer in “Collectivist Responsibility”. Human Society has never managed to make Collectivism work.

Human Society has always been about taking care of those next to you in the foxhole. The people throwing shit my direction have never been in my Foxhole. They can jolly well **** off….. If you want my vote, suggest things that are rational – you know, like fixing roads, enforcing existing immigration law, limiting the actual excesses of government.

I know who I am, my coming out isn’t a political goal or a gate-keeping requirement.

My presenting as female would be for MY comfort – not someone else’s. If it’s more trouble than wearing jeans and a t-shirt, I need to profit from it in some (probably emotional) way. I don’t suffer continuous dysphoria from not presenting female.

It’s likely fetal exposure to DES is why I’m “a little different” – my 45+ years of exposure to testosterone and all those years of attempted socialization makes it virtually impossible I’m going to be happy doing or wearing “girly” things if I’m not happy with the way I look….

…and I’m an artist.

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Catching up with a Friend….

Where I continue with an old friend…. she in bold:

“thrilled that you are comfortable where you are!”

…Boobs are bloody awesome.

“..You have the wonderful quality of always being yourself, even as you are evolving. I think THAT is what I saw when we first met, and I am sorry that I did not communicate that to you clearly..”

I can’t imagine being fake. No matter what gender space I occupy.

I might not be politically correct, I may appear rude to some, but I can’t do Fake. I think on occasion that people WANT me to support their thinking, and don’t “react well” when I don’t.

“..In all our interactions, I have had that sense that you are nonbinary, but on the feminine side of it. I did not express this because I was not sure what you were aiming for and I wanted you to have room to explore and discover for yourself…”

I appreciate that.

A former friend basically told me to abandon the idea of Transition, gave me the usual “religious reasons” to stop. At the time, it tore me apart – because I respected her then.

Nothing would have been a bigger mistake.

Yes, Transition complicates our lives.

But we’re complicated – and nothing can change that.

“…I recognized it because for years I was on the feminine side of androgynous even as I continued to gradually blossom into womanhood. I could have “stopped” at any point along that journey (and my spouse would have appreciated this), but each time I removed a masculine gender cue and added a feminine one, I checked myself, and found that as “right” as it felt, I wanted to move further. My “stopping point” is somewhere between “tomboy” and “girly-girl,” so I am comfortable being a Queer Woman with a few dashes of genderqueer…”

This is SO DIFFERENT from what I was told I was, from how I learned to approach life.

But my heart says “keep going, we’re not there yet”

“…Re intersex: yes, I agree with you, AND likewise, I learned that I am XY from my 23&Me…”

There are people that are so militant about us not being a part of their Banana Boat they’re willing to fight pretty hard. We’re “faggots” to them.

But there are many that also occupy this space with us that are demonstrably Intersex and fit into a ‘conventional’ medical classification of same….

“…I am virtually certain that it was DES exposure through 4/5ths of my gestation that put me into the blurry space between intersex and transsexual…”

Mom “took all kinds of things”, but also had two surgeries during my gestation. Stress on the fetus during the pregnancy greatly increases one’s chances of being Transgender. I may be as much a “natural” as a “DES Son”.

“..Whatever anyone can say, I was no more a cis male than I will ever be a cis female: I am transgender, and I am certain that this will be seen to be yet another way to be intersex..”

Once I had discovered the probable reason I never fit into the Binary, I began to see all the many ways I wasn’t male. I continue to see new things.

God calls me “Daughter”.

…that resonates so very deeply with me.

“…Re bisexual: interesting!…”


“…And I can understand that scary bit because I have been asexual/demisexual for all my life..”

I tend to think ALL women are demisexual to a degree.

I’ve always been scared of men to some degree, I think – they were my tormentors all through childhood.

“..and when I got my estradiol levels comfortably into the female range, I suddenly started to have little twinges of interest in both sexes. BUT hormones are pretty profound, and since I generally do not have any testosterone (not even from my adrenals), my interest in sex is lower than it has ever been…”

I’ve been driven like a male all my life – but sex AS a male didn’t ever feel RIGHT. My T is pretty low now – 8-12 ng/dl

When I was on Pregnenolone (200 mg/day for 2-4 years) I was likely driving my T down – I began “guy watching”. That’s only gotten more intense the longer I’ve been on Estrogen. E is in the 600-800 (pMol/liter – IIRC) range.

I’ve woken up thinking about guys – the idea of being on the ‘receiving end’ of a nice guy’s attention is oddly attractive now. Yeah – hormones make us ‘tick’, and no amount of ‘trying to be male’ can overcome that.

Apparently even after decades of testosterone.

I can only bemoan what a waste – other than the birth of two wonderful children – of time that was.

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I’m not a Blogger by inclination apparently….

I friend once said that I presented more or less as who I was – that was 5-6 years ago, I think. That concerned me more THEN, than now. That’s another indicator of how far I’ve improved emotionally. Though I’m not about to shout it from the rooftops, I’m not terribly concerned that people notice I’m a little different. My wife freaked out a little in Walmart when she noticed a guy was PROBABLY staring at my boobs – but that honestly made me laugh.

I might be a B cup at this point, I think people would be more concerned if I acted on the exhibitionist streak that I try to keep under wraps.

I’m not “binary” – and I’m figuring that out now. Both a non-binary identity and being bisexual is complex and confusing. I try to not stare at guys – BUT… I do. I missed that “window of opportunity” for the most part. The single encounter I had with a guy back in Nuke School kind of freaked me out for at least 2 reasons.

I’m – complex – and that puts some people off – see the “non-binary” identity. I think my sexuality – running on estrogen (it’ll be 4 years in October) – is essentially female.

I lean “more female than male” – not sure how far that dive goes. I know I’m simply NOT “male inside”. I run so much better on estrogen.

I think a little T might help – both with hair and muscles, just a TOUCH. I’m running in the 8-12 pg/ml(??) range – and the norm is 20-60, IIRC. CIS women need more, and I think I do too. Having taken pregnenolone early on (essentially from 2013 until 2017) drove T down below 200. That helped emotionally, and it’s why taking E basically drove it into the basement.

The tests on any Intersex issues I might have came up zilch. I’m XY, and came up as not having one of the Androgen Insensitivity issues. If I am Intersex, it’s subtler or uncommon. Frankly, I consider being Transgender an Intersex issue. I’m not the only one that thinks that.

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