Chapter 13 - “A gift from God”

Giving myself a female name marked a huge turn-around in my attitude towards my drive toward the feminine.

Up until that point, when I thought about it at all, I referred to this ... girl thing ... as “She” or “Her” and it usually was with a shudder. As I stated, I originally wanted the female name for writing, something I had thought about doing on and off since I was a teen. I found a place online to publish stories and poetry, a site called “Big Closet”, and began to write a little story called “The Saga of E-Girl”.

It wasn’t much, just based on an idea floating around in my head from reading too many comics as a kid - “what if, you could gain superpowers, but you had to change genders to do it?”

To my great surprise, it was really well received.

So I wrote more.

I wrote poems, and stories, and eventually began to share my life story and struggles with the readers of the site, just as I was with the readers on “Daily Strength”.

I spoke frankly about my struggle with my gender, and especially with feeling afraid of being rejected by family, friends, strangers, and worst of all, by God.

Meanwhile, I was in the middle of my last attempt to repress my feminine side, taking anti-depressants, seeing a councilor, and trying everything I could think of.

I even went to a gender specialist, hoping to be told that of course it was all in my head, that with the right treatment I’d be a man and like it.

Didn’t go that way.

In fact, after our conversation he recommended I begin a transition, and even gave me a prescription for a testosterone blocker.
I panicked a bit, and sought help for my rape instead.

But it seemed like I could no longer shut the door on the girl within, and I agonized about what to do.

Then someone from “Daily Strength” recommended I pray as Dorothy, and see what happened.

That prayer eventually became a poem that I have read in public, called “Dear God.”

And it felt like I got an answer to that prayer in the form of a vision - a vision of myself as a girl, being held and swung around by a man who I believe was God himself.

But I had one last crisis to deal with before things could finally start to get better.

I had a reaction to the antidepressants, and actually came very close to suicide.

I was at work, and someone left a birthday cake with a large knife beside it, and before I even knew what I was doing, I had the knife at my wrist, ready to cut.

Somehow, I gathered enough strength to drop the knife, but the incident scared me enough to make me realize I could no longer hold my feminine side in check.

I went back to the gender specialist, took the prescription, and began to make steps toward a transition. My first step was coming out of the closet to my family, and I went into that series of conversations fearing the worst. My mother’s reaction was to tell me “It makes sense” and not long after bought me a birthday card - “From a mother to her daughter”.

And even though my brother and sister-in-law had (and continue to have) doubts about what I’m doing, they are supporting me the best they can.

And even though my ex objects to a transition on religious grounds, she has continued to let me see my daughter.

For a while after taking these steps, I hesitated to go further. I felt sure I would never pass, and so I agonized what I could do about my situation.

Finally, I could stand it no longer, so I took the next scary step, to start going out in public as a woman, so I went to a thrift shop and picked out a skirt, shoes, and blouse to wear, as well as panties, bra, and hose.

After a false start, I went out for gas dressed.

And the lady at the gas station called me “miss”.

Then I went to a bottle depot to return my empty bottles and cans for a refund.

And when my bag spilled, a young man said “Let me help ma’am.”

So the next time I saw the gender specialist, I got what’s called a “carry letter”, basically telling whoever reads it that I have begun a real-life test as part of my transition, and that they should treat me as a woman.

This letter is often called “the bathroom letter”, as it seems that bathrooms are one place people struggle with having someone like me around.

Except when I went to use a ladies room in a mall after getting the letter, I didn’t need it. Nobody seemed to pay me any attention whatsoever.

The next step in my journey was to see if I could find a job that would be okay with me transitioning, so I applied for a job at a call center. Basically the job was cold-calling businesses and asking if they wanted to advertise in this little magazine that was made available for free in doctor’s offices and medical clinics.

They didn’t have any objections to me coming to work as a woman, and to my surprise the other women who worked there totally accepted me, even letting me come with them on their lunch runs.

Unfortunately, I really sucked at the actual job.

So after three days, I was let go.

So I went looking for a job I might actually be able to do.

I went to an agency that was supposed to help people having trouble finding work, and was all set to start some serious training with them when I got a call from Wal-mart, who I had applied to online.

I went to the interview in my skirt, and remarkably, they hired me anyway.

And once again, the tolerance of my fellow workers surprised me. Not only did they seem to accept me as a woman, I was told by one “I can’t even imagine you as a tomboy.”

Then once I had been working the required three months, I was able to get some of my prescriptions covered by the company, and as a result, I was able to start estrogen.

And eventually, I started seeing results, and the more feminine I started to look, the more ... relaxed I became.

Which I think is a pretty good hint I was heading in a good direction.

I also had been able to use techniques I had learned in rape counseling to help make serious progress in dealing with what happened to me, and the other thing that was helping me with that was some of my writing.

Meanwhile I was actually doing well at work, and after working at a store outside of town for a year, I was able to transfer to a location closer to my home.

Then I went hunting for a church to attend as Dorothy, and lucked into a United church downtown that practiced what they called “affirming”, which meant they accepted me as a woman.

It was at this church that one Sunday I read “Dear God”, and afterward several people approached me to tell me they wept at what I had written.

Which brings me to now.

My journey isn’t over yet, or at least I hope it isn’t.

Its my hope to become what’s promised in the name I have chosen - Dorothy - A gift from God.

But We’ll just have to see where my journey goes from here together, won’t we?

End.