I’ve been dealing with gender identity for most of my life.
It feels so freeing to say that now.
It was 40 years ago, literally, that I crossdressed for the first time.
I was eight years old and tried on a cute little dress in the basement of a local thrift shop.
And it made me feel so… alive. Almost electric.
But I’ve hidden that part of me from the world, purged it, denied it — if it’s a stage of death and dying — I’ve done it.
So in the past week I decided this is no longer tolerable.
To quote All That Jazz (and Dr. Kübler-Ross on the final stage of death and dying), “I accept!”
I am transgendered, hear me roar… and I’ll be damned if I’m going to be ashamed of it anymore.
So I bit the bullet and made two appointments for this week. One with a gender specialist and a second with a hair stylist to get my hair cut in a more feminine style (finally!).
I am so excited right now.I’m sure the fear will creep in, but right now, I am stupid, giggly happy.
Note: When I began transitioning in 2014, I was known by my nickname DiG, which sufficed until I learned my mom had chosen Jennifer had my birth gone differently. So for historical sake, I leave my posts and podcasts as originally conceived, but know that my name is and apparently always was Jen.