So, I took a big step, personal-wise, a few days ago and met with a therapist to discuss and hopefully unravel the convoluted mess that is me.

I had been to see a therapist a couple of times many, many moons ago, when I first started trying to figure out where I truly belonged on the gender spectrum (if anywhere). Unfortunately, that particular provider was the sort who was all about jumping into the deep end of the pool.

She suggested, at first, that if I thought perhaps I was really trans, I should just out myself to my family and "see how they handle it". Which, honestly, scared the living shit out of me. I wanted to do more exploring my thoughts and feelings, as well as try to unpack the history of abuse I'd spent nearly two decades ignoring. Eventually, I was told that if I wasn't willing to "put in the work" (i.e. out myself) then I was obviously exactly where I belonged, gender-wise, and there was no use for further sessions.

Now, let me add that this was 1999-2000, and the resources available today were practically non-existent back then. At least, not in Redneckville, North Carolina. Dejected and ashamed, I simply repackaged my confusion and curiosity back into it's opaque box and shoved it away. Which, of course, has led to zero advancement in dealing with the most important question about myself: Who am I?

Flash forward twenty years. At the prodding of my spouse, I finally hunted around until I found a recommended therapist who checked off all my initial boxes. She is LGBTQIA+ supportive, specializes in childhood PTSD and SA, and (most importantly) takes my insurance. So, with sweaty palms and a nervous belly, I reached out to her. We conversed through email about the peripheral things. Those general "get to know you a little" introductions.

My first session with her was a completely different experience than I'd had with my prior therapist. There was no sense of being judged, only care and concern and an attentive ear. She asked questions only a few times, to get clarification on some things. The rest of the time, she sat there and let me dump a large portion of my childhood baggage on her floor to show her some of what she was going to have to work with. At the end of the hour, even though there had been a few tears, I felt like I had found someone who might be actually able to help me. I never really thought that might happen.

Sorry for the ramble. I just felt the need to share this and this site is one of the few safe places where I can do that.

~ Lily