Well, I've just trashed the last of Rons old clothes, after 5 years my stepmom finally allowed me to get rid the last peices of him, hes gone now and I am all that's left... I actualy feel a little bit guilty, for 13 years I pretended to be somebody I wasn't, in a way they had become apart of me and ive just killed him with hormones and panties, lol. I think i should have a funeral for him... what do you guys think.(let me know in the comments)
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Comments
personally
I think whether you like it or not. Ron isn't dead. Never will be. You aren't a phoenix rising from the ashes.
He may not be YOU but he is still there. You should make him a part of you that can now grow and show everyone how happy Ron is being you.
I know that sounds wierd... but Ron wasn't entirely an 'act'. Oh there were things you did just to prove that you weren't a sissy but shedding those things don't make Ron "dead." In my not so humble opinion you should think of transition more like a butterfly in the crysalis. Your wings are soft and beautiful and you are only beginning to be ready to fly.
Be a butterfly.
Dayna
thats beautiful
That was a beautiful analogy, and it makes alot of sense, but to me he is dead and I just want to get rid of him.
♥♥
You just made my day!
The name might be different for many of us; some retaining it longer than we'd ever have wished, in fact. But we're the sum of our being. Those things inside us that our families came to appreciate and and like and love make us who we are, no matter how we present. And so many of us get beat up by the undeserved guilt and shame of being transgendered that we often take on the guilt and shame of not presenting who we are. We all take all-too circuitous if entirely necessary paths to the same destination.
That analogy of a crysalis is important to recall; the struggle to emerge from the cocoon causes the wings to expand. Without the struggle there would be no flight. Thank you.
Love, Andrea Lena
Nothing has changed but everthing is different.
My wife who was wanting my transition , to a point , made a big deal of taking my male drag camouflage clothing, I used to hide my transformation, and burning them. It was a relief to let the male in me go. But I still had to go through an emotional transformation, where I was able to make peace with who I was, allowing me to become what I am. My experiences in the past has given me skills that I have needed to stay alive, and if I did not experience being a boyish girl, I would not understand who I was, when I became released to be a women. At this time in my life, I KNOW I am a women, then I believed I could be a women, so I needed to continue on my path until I knew.
It was for me a breaking out of my cocoon becoming a butterfly.
Huggles
Michele
With those with open eyes the world reads like a book
A funeral would be
A funeral would be appropriate. My wife had to mourn the death of Eric before she could fully embrace me, and it was a process. However, it worked out in the end, she rarely misgenders me or has a problem calling me by my name.
saying goodbye
I did not have a funeral, but I did write a eulogy to say goodbye. Ron got you to the point where you were able to be free of him. Appreciate it and put him to rest.
Love & Light,
Cassie Ellen
When I finally became me, I wrote this.
Maybe it might help you in your decision.
Of all of the times in my long lonesome life,
full of anger and sadness and worry and strife,
the now, this moment, holds, it seems,
my hopes, my prayers, my choices, my dreams.
I stand on the threshold of change and renewal,
and I must be bold, and follow new rules.
The past is the past and I bid it adieu,
I welcome the changes, I'll embrace the new.
Filled with fears and with dread, but regardless of strife,
filled with hope and with wonder, I'll begin my new life.
With the help of my friends, both far and so near,
Their love and their caring will assure that those fears,
will vanish like fog, no more strife, no more tears,
and my life, will be filled with their hugs, and their love,
I'll embrace the new me, no longer a hawk, now a dove.
Happy Holiday huggles.
Catherine Linda Michel
As a T-woman, I do have a Y chromosome... it's just in cursive, pink script.
laugh and cry.
Your poem was very moving, I even shed a few tears lol. And I love your signature I had to laugh at it lol
♥♥
Like I tell my kids,
Uncle Bill is not dead. He isn't quite the same person, She is just much happier and more stable, and still loves them very much. For those who don't know me I raised by brothers kids, and it saved my life.
In the LBGT community, where I am very active, we refer to our old selves and our new selves. They both exist, we have just moved on to be much happier people.
I am now Aunt Wendy, that's all.
Welcome!!!
This is something we all go through, how to handle our past and who we used to be.
Some go stealth and pretend that other person did not ever exist. But that means
leaving behind a lot of good thinks with the bad. I was married and had 2 sons.
they all meant the world to me and I need to still be part of their lives. My wife
and I had some bumpy times. But we decided that we still loved each other despite
my changes. We continued together for another 10 years until she passed away. I
sometimes think my sons and I are closer now then before. They say they can see that
I am much happier now and am easier to be close to. I have also used the analogy of
the butterfly. We were caterpillars crawling along the ground and as butterflies we
are soaring out into the bright open world!! Yes there were moments when I missed
being John, but Pamela is so much happier and alive!!! Welcome to our community
we support each other!!!
Hugs,
Pamela
My Star Ship is Leaving
It is like totally understandable needing to explore who you are and the limits you have or will build for yourself. None of us will be where we are today in 10 years, if we persevere. I can remember my first shoes, first bra, first skirt, and first cautious, shy look in the mirror to meet Gwendolyn for the first time. I've actually grown rather fond of her as a companion, though at times she is stiff and unyielding, not brooking nonsense.
Some of us have more bullshit to sort through than others. Some of us will get acceptance from the most unexpected places, while the love we expected just won't be there in others. Some find the journey too hard and stop like some early pioneer out on the snow swept Northern plains to slowly freeze to death. And yes, some of us finally emerge completely star struck, if much battered, into the reality of our dreams and find them completely unexpected and somewhat imperfect at times.
Lately, the attachment of the community is weakened. My ship is leaving. A couple recent stories made me realize that if I can't be supportive then I need to shut up. Those around me need to explore their fantasies unimpeded by boring doses of reality.
To those just starting on your journey, you know the one where the streets are just full of boys aching to be girls, I wish you the best. I'm going to move over now and give each of you your rightful turn to self eviscerate and dig through your own entrails. I've done my best to clean up my own mess before I leave, and the counters are clean and dry but the garbage can still stinks. I hope you have better luck getting the odor out.
Some of you thought I was in stealth before, and now it really starts. Some of you will not move on and do what you need to do as long as you think someone in the community will rescue you. You must start your own journey in earnest. Some of you have a better chance than others. Don't waste your chances. To the rest, I respect your journey and it is not mine and I hope that you will respect my journey.
I'm going to go read.
The Road Not Taken
By Robert Frost
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
wow
That was so powerful, im speechless. Just wow. Gewn, you almost never write more than a sentence or two, where did this dome from and why have you been hiding it. Very few written things make me cry and this is one of them. Thats just... wow. Thank you , gwen.
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