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The Runaway Train By Elaine Copyright 2003. Synopsis This is an autobiographical story of how one transsexual woman's transition went badly wrong. This is a real story about someone who lives as a woman without any way back to be the person she would like to be. She is living a lie to her boyfriend and those around her and she is inside a very lonely person. This story is given as it was told to me. This woman was on a runaway train and although it's stopped now it's on quite unfamiliar and different tracks. Many times she had the chance to pull the alarm cord and didn't do it. Is it her fault? Yes it is but it is also the fault of her parents and the therapists who didn't question her close enough. I hope that like me you will find it interesting reading and will make you think twice about gender roles and issues. Whatever you feel when you read this don't feel pity or sadness because that would compound the problem. I feel that this shouldn't happen again but it will and it does. There are many TS women who are doing this at this exact moment because they find the whole situation sexually exciting and that to my mind makes them like the subject of this story. A man trapped in the body of a woman. The word autogynephilia is described in the internet. I have used false names to give anonymity to certain people that feature in the narrative. Prologue Ever been on a train and it whizzes past your station without stopping? You know the train should stop but it doesn't. If anything it seems to goes faster taking you further away from your intended destination. Then there's the train that takes you on a journey that you didn't ever want to make. You know the kind of thing, you get on the train and then you suddenly hear an announcement about where the train is headed. Of course you instantly realise the mistake that you've made, gather your belongings and rush for the door only to find it close in your face. The train pulls out leaving you with a look of embarrassment. Reluctantly you go back to your seat as the train pulls away down the wrong tracks. You could pull the communication cord but it says ?250 fine for improper use and you're a coward at heart. You decide that you'll wait until it stops again but it's miles away from your original destination! Or you might find yourself on what you knew was the right train and it goes a different route to what you thought or intended. Imagine your life was like that and you found yourself on such a journey. Then every time you wanted off the train you couldn't and wouldn't stop it and you then found yourself on a non-stop express heading for a different world. For some reason the pull chord is easily within reach and yet for some reason you don't pull it. So the train thunders on until it's gone onto different tracks. You could try complaining but no one is listening and you have no way of getting back home because you are stuck. Stuck on a train isn't really a complete way to describe the situation in this story but it comes pretty close. In this situation, the train just doesn't stop again. The story is about a passenger forever inside a train and who has no way to ever get off. The annoying thing is that it's my own entire fault. There's absolutely nothing I can do about it all now and it's like being in a nightmare of my own making. Chapter 1. Early days I haven't been able to write about these things before and I've even tried to deny this to myself many times too. All I would ask is that you try and understand my thoughts and feelings on what is a difficult and now quite painful subject. As I sit here and type this making many mistakes with my long red painted nails touching the keyboard gently, I find these mistakes tiresome and frustrating but there is nothing that I can do about it now. My red lips are freshly painted, my normally mascara-coated lashes are long and fluttering and I have no less than three earrings dangling from each of my pierced earlobes. I have to look down past my real D cup breasts as they strain up and down in a tight under wired bra. I know they are real breasts because the thin straps of my bra cut into my collarbones and they more than anything else are a constant reminder of my big life mistake. On my feet I have on as usual my new pointed spike heeled boots despite being at home and my pantyhose covered hairless legs rub together easily while my long dark hair hangs right down my back. This is my story and it's not for the faint hearted and I hope it'll warn others from doing the same thing that I did. At least not for the reasons I chose. Describing all this will probably be very messy and maybe even freakish to those of you who feel I did the wrong thing. With this story it feels like the plug to my inner soul has finally has been opened up and is pouring out so many things I need to say. The biggest problem is deciding in what way to tell it to you. I will try to put these feelings into text clearly! I'm not sure I really know yet how I'm really feeling deepest inside about it all myself. All I know for sure is that I have had and still have a lot of weird feelings about myself and I desperately would like to sort them out so I can make better sense of them. The best place to begin is at the beginning and I was born nearly 30 years ago. I'm the only child of two kind loving parents. They are two wonderful people who have bent backwards to give me what I thought I always wanted. That I don't see them much these days is also part of my problems. However I was in a mental conflict very early on in my life despite being in a loving environment with my parents and those around me. That mental conflict about all this obviously continues to this day. My feelings started when I was about 5 or 6 when a girl called Loren arrived next door. I did identify very strongly with Loren. We spent a great deal of time together playing and I just saw everything about her as very beautiful and positive compared to myself. She was always dressing in beautiful girlish clothes and I would have loved to wear them too. Her hair was beautiful, long and went almost to her rear. My mother and her mother did a lot together too. So Loren was like a sister to me and I adored her. I remember I was very jealous of her being a girl and I wasn't. I loved all the girl things, like her clothes, her long hair and everything about her. I'm not sure if this triggered my longing about becoming a girl but I'm sure it made a difference. She was also very emotional, but it was OK for her to be emotional but not for me. My parents were always trying to make me tougher so crying and acting like I did wasn't tolerated! I just was somehow obsessed with her and we spent a lot of time together at that time. We went to the same kindergarten before school. I loved playing with her and her toys. We could also spend hours just drawing or playing some board game together. Her personality was just very similar to mine in so many ways and she was also very quiet like me. The only thing that made our lives different was probably gender. To me, her being a girl made it possible and acceptable to be and act and do the things I loved the most. So Loren had a really big influence on me. We lost contact when they moved away from the area and I started school, the contrast was huge between me and the other boys. I seemed able to identify with them so in the beginning I only played with the girls in my class. After a time when the teasing got stronger and, I became more isolated. This obviously was noticed and when I was about 8 years old my father finally took me for a closer mental check up when they thought my self- isolation had become too strong. Before Loren I had been telling people I was Mary so Loren didn't cause my gender identity problem, but she perhaps made it deeper. I have no memory about the time I called myself Mary so this time is a bit of a grey zone for me. Being a doctor, my father knew some basic stuff about gender dysphoria and he thought that was what my problem was, because I had always been openly been claiming I was a girl when Loren stayed beside us and after she'd gone. Although he and my mother must have been alarmed they did the necessary things and made sure I saw a gender therapist. I started going to therapy sessions regularly where my first female therapist just talked about everyday stuff with me to start with. I told her about my fixation about thinking I was a girl called 'Mary'. I won't go into my therapy much deeper than this otherwise this story would be too long. I only have vague memories from here and there before I was 8 and my therapy started. Anyway although my parents and my father in particular suspected I was a transsexual they never gave me any room to play it out before I was diagnosed as being TS by the therapists. Only after that did they reluctantly accept it as a fact and I was able to try out what dressing as a female and all this was about. Until my diagnosis I never did or had any opportunity to do any crossdressing in female clothes. All my fantasies at that time were just happening deep inside my mind where I was constantly thinking of myself as a girl. I was imagining what that would be like. I also felt very excited about it all and wanted desperately to be a girl. Then when my father became convinced I was TS, everything just got going according to agreed plans. I was asked about how I was feeling as the plan proceeded and all that, but I just never told them the truth! So everything kept on going. In hindsight I have always had a strong fascination or even a powerful sexual excitement about my physical change from a male to a female. I think this was the main reason why I wanted so much to become a female. Although I never told this to anyone, it was even existing as a powerful motive to my gender change ambitions when they began and this strong sexual feeling kept me going right through my transition. That was despite the crazy fact that I realised quite early on that I didn't really want to go through with it! When I was at school, I was always feeling jealous of my female classmates. Around that time, my parents were always trying to encourage me to be more masculine and I think my comments about being Mary were the reason why they pushed me into those activities. I didn't feel bad about it then, I just also wanted to be normal and to avoid the bullying I had from the start of school. Although it sounds typical, I never physically looked very boyish or masculine but I wasn't intentionally trying to act like a 'sissy' either. I really tried hard to act as was expected of me including doing male sports. Funnily enough I liked the physical activities and I even liked to play ice hockey but I wasn't tough enough and physically strong enough to be very successful at it. I liked ice hockey but not how you were supposed to act in it to be successful. Because I was so small and girlish, I was beaten up many times on my way back home from junior school. There were a few groups of 'tough' guys who would pick on me and I had a tough time dealing with them. There was even one group of boys in my class but they did just verbal and mild physical teasing. I tried to fight back in the beginning, but that seemed to prolong and make the situation even worse. The reason was because I was always fighting alone and never gained anything by fighting back except more punishment. Later I just tried to get away from them and I mostly locked myself into the toilets or hid myself away during breaks. My worst problems though came from the class above and three boys in particular who shared a large part of my way home were really horrible. I was being tortured by them in all sorts of bad ways but unfortunately I never told my parents or teachers about it. I was pushed into the water filled road ditches a few times and I just told my parents that I had stumbled into them. My school bag was destroyed once along with the schoolbooks inside it. I was punched and threatened by mostly these three bullies throughout my time in that school. It's funny that one of them even landed in my class when he didn't graduate from his own class and had to do it all over again. I always had excuses for my parents about why my clothes were dirty or why my nose was bleeding. I never told them the real reasons and I still don't know why I never told them! After I the diagnosis that I was TS and permission was given to start my transition I felt on top of the world mainly because of the sexual reasons. In the beginning it was really very exciting to just be allowed to dress as a female even though the clothes I was wearing were just plain unisex. To me they were just very important and a great turn on for me. It was like a dream come true to me. This was what I had always wanted! I think I would have been happy to stay that way, just to be able to dress like a girl when I wanted. I never knew anything about the physical changes that were to come. When that was being talked about I never really understood how serious it was, the things just sounded very exciting to me and I wanted to go on with it. Because to me at the time being female, was the thing I was doing when dressing as a girl, even in the not too feminine clothes I was given. So when my father was talking about the need for hormones to 'better' be able to be a female, it all just sounded so natural to me. Chapter 2. Hormones First at age 12, I was given anti-androgen therapy for about a year before the estrogen therapy started. I think my male puberty would have been very late even without the anti-androgens but who knows. I'll never know and I was really looking like an 8-year-old kid compared to all of my classmates who entered into puberty ahead of me. I never really grew up like the other kids in class. Dressing in female clothes became a turn on to me slowly and I must have been in the beginning of my first year on anti androgens when I realised it was a turn on. I learned my limited way of masturbating when I was able to dress femininely, it all just was very exciting to me. But it wasn't sexually exciting in the same way as it turned out later. Just after the age of 13 they started giving me 1mg of oestrogen orally then it was lowered to first 0.5mg and then 0.25mg daily. The anti- androgen continued too but I wasn't quite prepared for the physical effects to start so soon. About 2 months after I started hormones it felt like the changes began very quickly and I very suddenly realised that there were many things that scared me badly. Outwardly there were physical changes in my body that that caused me to be afraid, but at the same time it was also a huge sexual turn on for me. I used to study and admire myself in front of the mirror for hours sometimes just feeling the sexual satisfaction about the changes. But after those sexual feelings were met, my mind would quickly change and I hated the same things that a moment earlier had been such a turn on. I know it sounds weird but I wanted to cover up myself very quickly and to avoid looking at myself. I also stopped thinking about it all until I again very soon felt the sexual desire build up again. Although the motivation for this was sexual, I don't think I ever learned to masturbate very well like I have understood most boys do it. I didn't like touching my penis and I didn't really have any real orgasms that I can remember. I did have wet dreams while sleeping a few times though which was very disturbing when it happened. My masturbating was just by hiding my penis as much as I could and I just pressed my genitals against the floor or anything that was handy without using my hands. I was imagining I hated my penis so that's why I didn't want to touch it. It felt good but never managed to get much cum. I felt a sort of vibrating feeling in it when I had an 'orgasm' through a few pulsating 'beats'. Something was released, but it was clear runny stuff, nothing like the cum I have seen my current boyfriend produce for example. The autogynephilic desire was all based on this masturbation I think, that's what got me going. I have been thinking about this now when reading about other transsexual women's experiences with their autogynephilic feelings. I maybe had some defect in not being able to produce much in my orgasms, but those I had while sleeping must have been very rich, because my pyjama pants were usually very wet and smelly around the time before the estrogens! Anyway the orgasms very quickly disappeared after I'd been taking the female hormones for a few months but I was able to get an erection all the way until my sex change surgery. I was able to get sexually satisfied, but my desire to masturbate also decreased probably because of the hormones. I knew what the hormones would do to my body but I don't think I ever realised how big and dramatic the physical changes would be. That was a huge shock for me and probably for my parents too. My original ultimate sexual fantasy goal was to become just a little bit more feminine so I could better act out the female picture of myself I was in love with. Small firm breasts like my mothers were far more exciting to me than larger ones. That was I guess the only change I was hoping for. I was given my hormones every morning at breakfast mostly by mother. She handled the tablets but it wasn't only my hormones, she took care of all the different multivitamin mix and mineral pills which my parents always saw as very important. I could easily have stopped taking the hormones or hide not taking them later but I didn't do it in the beginning. Later I was skipping my hormones at times, when I became too depressed. So I don't think my body got all the hormones that was prescribed for me, but I wasn't off the hormones long enough make any much difference to see how the changes proceeded. I never noticed much effect from skipping the pills later because by then the changes were complete! The thing that I was aroused me sexually was myself becoming a female and the transition as such was the big turn on. At the same time this was also the thing that scared me the most when part of my mind was in horror with seeing the physical changes taking place. Chapter 3. My body changes The first changes after two months were that I noticed that my nipples became very tender and much larger. The actual breast growth started quite soon after. I felt like the changes happening to me were somehow unreal. That the girl in the mirror wasn't me somehow but someone else. I was also very excited by it, but also was very, very scared that anyone in school would find out. When also my hips started to widen and my waist got smaller, I was really shocked by that. That was something I didn't expect to happen but I somehow imagined this all was possible to be undone later or reversed so I didn't panic. It was all part of a sexual fantasy game or play for me and this power just was too strong. At least that's what I feel I was thinking back then. I was aware of some of the other physical changes like the greater difficulty I had to get my 'orgasm' that always had been weak. But since I was able to get the erections and some kind of 'cumless' orgasm that equalled sexual satisfaction this didn't bother me too much. I was also growing a lot taller during these first 2 years on hormones but not to the size I hoped. I am still quite small. My voice had always been feminine and after the estrogen started it never cracked. One of the things I was being teased about at school was my sissy way of speaking and sounding even before starting on the female hormones. I have tried to search for information about this online but I haven't found any information about pre-puberty male to female transitions. The information I have seen just states that female hormones don't affect your voice nor the body structure. But in my case it effected both. I know it has to do with starting hormones before puberty and there seems to be a huge difference in the effect if you start transition pre or post puberty. Of course my father knew all this and obviously decided that it would be best to start before puberty. He was right because no one would guess I wasn't anything other than a real live girl now. As a kid I always had a very feminine appearance and way of talking and just being. I isolated myself from the outside world as much as I could from the moment I started school until I switched to the new school when I went there full time as a girl. My parents also planned my change of school together with my doctor and the schools because we were due to relocate to a new area. This happened during the long summer vacation because the therapist said I needed that length of time or more in to be able to adjust to the new public gender role. I do agree with that decision still today. However in hindsight I think I was put on the hormones about 6 to 12 months too early. I don't think I would have needed as much physical changes to be able to pass as girl in the new school. The changes by the time I changed school were very fundamental. My breasts were already a B cup by the time I quit going as a boy to my old school. I had to bind them tightly at that time to avoid detection and it was very painful and very uncomfortable. While my breasts were growing, they always were quite sore and the binding them was quite painful. I locked myself in the toilet often during the last spring term in the old school to open up the binding to ease the great pain I was in. I would also rush to open up the binding as soon as I got home, or even often opened it up on my way home. This time was the toughest and one of the most confusing times in my life. I had to hide every bit of my changes in public, but I was able to dress as a female at home. Chapter 4. Clothing I usually changed to just jeans and T-shirt styled stuff. But in front of my parents I was always wearing a tight bra and never tight shirts. I was mostly bra less when home alone. In those times alone during my arousal moods, I would admire my increasing femininity endlessly though one weird thing I just remembered about this time is that while I was in this erotic mood I many times decided to not hide my femininity any more. I decided during those times that I would go to school without the binding and that thought also excited me sexually. But as always the guilt mood swing after just prevented this from ever happening which I'm glad about now. Maybe I was just deep inside somehow wishing someone would find out about me! At that time I had 4 roles I played and wasn't happy in any of them. 1. I was seen as a 'sissy' weak boy in school 2. I was TS for my parents and the medical people 3. The sexual fantasy girl in private 4. And last the old original me hating everything about the TS stuff. The crazy thing was these personalities or roles all had different desires! I think for my mother, me being a transsexual was never very easy. I know she had bigger problems accepting my transsexuality than she ever admitted openly. She first wanted me to dress as a boy at home as long as I was going out as a boy to school but my father eventually set the rules about what to wear at home. Even basic things such as buying me female clothes for home use was difficult for her. Very often she bought me stuff from the male side and I had to insist on getting real female button up shirts as she often bought ordinary male versions. Buying my first real training bra was a very traumatic thing for her too. She didn't have me with her during the shopping because I was not yet out in public as a girl. I felt like a freak when trying them on in front of her, so we both were very uneasy and uncomfortable about the situation and it took a long time before I wanted to use them. I never had the nerves to buy any female clothes myself as long as I was still a boy at school. I bought my first female stuff alone during the summer between the change of school when I'd just started living almost full time as a girl. My mother had a few, in my mind at that time, quite sexy dresses that I loved to dress up in. I played with her heels, skirts and stockings. Then she had lots of A-cup bras including some with padding, but strangely she didn't wear bras herself most of the time, so I really don't understand why she had so many. I don't think my mother noticed I had used her stuff because she never said anything or asked about it. The bras my mother had bought for me were all in my mind ugly, very hard and plain inelastic material, most of them with very wide cups and straps too. So I didn't find my own bras sexually exciting at all. So I used to wear her bras instead during my dress up sessions. Then when my breasts grew too large for her bras, I was quite horrified about that. I wasn't much too large for them but enough to make me feel like an elephant. This triggered a time of 'self dieting' because I felt very fat with these large breasts hanging down from my chest and their movement really disturbed me when going without a bra. I had always found small breasts sexy and now mine weren't feeling sexy at all, only disgusting and that got me even more depressed. Anyway I thought her bras were very sexy and feminine looking and made of soft material and were thin strapped too although they were too wide around my chest, I usually fixed that with a safety pin. I even stole one of her bras, but only wore it when dressing up. I mostly didn't wear a bra at home until my breasts got so large that their unrestricted moving started to make me uncomfortable. Yet in my sexual playing I just loved both being bra less and bra fitted playing sessions. There were many kinds of session and mostly I did them right after getting home from school because I usually had about 3 hours of free time before my parents got home from work. Before the HRT started, I was just fast changing into my own not so female home wear and the only extra thing I did was to use one of my mother's padded bras underneath. This gave me a huge turn on and excitement. I looked at myself in the mirror, posed and just lived in front of the mirror like a girl. I didn't feel the guilt trips as bad before the HRT and I wasn't too happy about removing my mother's bra before my parents got home. I had no bras of my own at that time and the dressing up as a girl was just a big turn on. I generally felt very happy also in front of my parents in these clothes. Chapter 5. Self arousal After the start of the HRT and after I started to change physically, the sessions changed completely. After getting home I would remove the breast binding and all my male clothes, then I would usually stand naked in front of a large wall mirror we had in the entrance hall. I was dressed in only my underwear to hide my penis. I sometimes also bound my penis down between my legs for a correct female look, but having an erection was very uncomfortable so I mostly didn't do it. I sometimes did nothing else except just look and admire and was amazed by the fast appearing physical changes in me. The changes were a big turn-on as I posed and did my things in front of the mirror. I was just in love with the feminine changes I saw happening in myself. I also started to massage my breasts sometimes and especially played with my nipples, which all was more exciting that I had ever expected. But now I also started feeling very guilty about all this and the bad feelings increased as my physical changes got more and more visible. Somehow this guilt trip didn't affect my autogynephilic fantasies. I was dressing on and off in front of the mirror and posing and just getting aroused by what I saw. It was in a way like I was producing my own sex strip show and getting sexually aroused by it. I always felt low after having done it and I felt like a badly mentally sick criminal or something! I did wear skirts and dresses but that started very late in my transition. I wasn't encouraged to wear them by my parents and I felt very out of place dressed in such female clothes in public in front of them since my original intention wasn't to become a female in public. My mother always tried to delete or minimise my feminine appearance, through the kind of clothes she bought me, and how she wanted me to dress and act. This wasn't openly so and I'm not sure she did it on purpose either but I know she was very uncomfortable with my condition and just had a hard time coping with it. Also the negative reactions that soon started to hit my parents from my relatives didn't improve the situation but we told all my relatives about me at the time of changing schools. I talked to my parents, mostly my father about my transition, but I didn't tell him about the problems I'd had. I never told my parents about the teasing problems either, so this just followed that same line I had earlier. There was very much physical openness and contact between all 3 of us until the time of my HRT start. After that the physical contact disappeared almost totally. I know my fast physical change made this difficult. Nakedness was not a taboo before, but through the HRT it became so. We used to go to the public baths together until this time too but that stopped happening. I hug my mother nowadays but not very closely. I have hugged my father only just a few times and I'm very conscious about that. It isn't anything spontaneous between me and my parents but I'm hugging spontaneously other people without any problems. Only with my parents is there some kind of invisible wall between us. They were amazed about the physical changes happening so quickly but somehow it wasn't discussed. I only understood how they felt about me through indirect comments or how they behaved. I realise that I would have had such a good possibility to stop it all by just telling my parents about how I was feeling, but I was too scared for their reaction or consequences for me having fooled everyone this seriously! I didn't realise that no matter what their reaction would be, I would have got out from the crazy situation I was in and still have been able to go back to live a normal male life but maybe as a crossdresser or TV. At that time I was too shocked about the situation I had landed in, so having more feminine changes happening to me like growing my hair longer on top of the physical changes already happening then was just too disgusting to me. I had my last boy haircut before Christmas in my final school year as a boy. So it wasn't very long by the time I finished going to school as a boy that spring. Around that Christmas time I had started to want to get longer hair mainly because of the autogynephilic feelings. In my sexual self playing I felt turned off by my boy hairstyle and I was having problems satisfying myself when I saw myself as the 'freak' in the mirror. The real reason probably was that my libido was decreasing because of the female hormones but I didn't know about that then. I had never talked with my doctor about what effects the hormones would have on my ability to masturbate, because they assumed I didn't have any sexual fantasies or that I would be masturbating! There was a 'BIG' discussion with my father right after I was diagnosed as being TS. He'd accepted the diagnosis because that was what he'd expected as a result of the therapy sessions. He asked if I was OK with the diagnosis and if I really wanted to be female and a girl. I of course said, 'yes that's what I always wanted.' He then promised that they would give me all their support if that was what I wanted to go through and he explained about how he had planned together with my therapist how the transition would happen. He told me what he expected out of me. Also he said that everything would be OK but I would become the female I desired to be but only by following the plans that had been agreed. It all sounded unreal to me at that moment and I don't think I understood at all the seriousness of this talk like I do now. At that time, I had never even dressed in any female clothes. After this initial discussion we talked about it again a few times over time, but after that we never had any big discussions about my transition again. Everything just happened like the plan. The treatment was handled by my doctor who was in contact with my dad and the therapist. These three people probably talked a lot more about my transition together than any of them talked about it with me. I never was active in telling them about my true experiences and feelings so I know they didn't work with the right facts about me. Chapter 6. Guilt trips As my transition advanced, I got more aware of how wrong this all was but I felt such a huge shame and guilt for having fooled everyone about myself so I was too scared to tell the truth. But I always thought, 'I will tell them 'soon' but not right now!' There were so many wasted opportunities to tell anyone about my true inner feelings. I should have told them what I was feeling like. I know now that they would not have stopped loving me or anything like that. At that time I just was too immature to really know what to do, so I just remained silent, because I was scared for telling them, but I'm not sure what kind of consequences I was scared about. But as things advanced and more and more changes in me happened, it became harder and harder. Eventually it became impossible for me to come out with the truth because the changes were by then irreversible. The rapid physical changes were a very big shock for me. But the sexual desire to go on with the transition was too strong to fight along with the fear of telling my parents that the real reason was just to play out some crazy sexual fantasy and not any real desire to become female for good. Socially I had big problems getting along at the old school. When my HRT started, things got even worse as long as I was going to school as a boy. The sissy teasing just got out of hand and I for the first time was thinking about ending my life. I don't think the teasers ever really realised that I was physically changing, because as I said I was wearing very heavy bindings to prevent it from showing. In the end I had to bind my breasts very tight with a special bra or a special vest my mother had made for me. I was on hormones for about 11/2 years while going to that school. During most of the last year, the changes were huge and the hiding went on. I was given permission to quit that school, 3 months before the summer holiday started, because of the difficulty I was having to hide the changes. This time was the toughest and one of the most confusing times in my life. I had to hide every bit of my changes in public but I was able to dress as a female at home. I think this is one of the reasons why I'm still feeling bad in public about my breasts. At school I had to hide my femininity, but at home it wasn't that welcomed either to show it too much for some reason. My mother has a very small bust and it was a very big shock for her to see my bust grow so much bigger than hers in such a short time. I was almost a C cup after only 2 years on the hormones and she always insisted I should wear a very tight bra to try to minimise the effect. The changes were rapid because when you start like me at a pre-puberty age and I had been on anti-androgen therapy from just before turning 12, my body was just waiting for the female hormones when I started on them a year later. The breast growth was the most visible change but then there was the shock that my hips got very wide in a quite short time and that made me very self-conscious. At that time quite narrow jeans were in fashion and I had to buy new sets of clothes frequently especially new pants because my hips flared out. I tried to continue wearing male jeans because I was dead scared that someone would notice if I was using female type jeans. That would have been a lot easier to do it today in these hip-hop fashion times. Most of my physical changes developed in a bit more than 2 years so at 15 my 'female' puberty was more or less over. Only my breasts grew a bit more until when I was about 19 however I had a curvy female figure that I couldn't hide any longer. The reason in the beginning that I dressed in a unisex style was that someone not knowing about me might visit us so that I could be taken as a girl or a boy. I wasn't allowed to grow my hair longer while I was going to school as a boy although there were some boys at my class with quite long hair. So in some ways my parents weren't very supportive to my desires but in other ways they of course were very supporting. They never tried to deny the TS diagnosis I'd been given. In my mind, I was going trough the first serious depressions about my transitioning. In my mind I was aware or I thought I was that I probably wasn't a true transsexual and that this transitioning process was not what I really should be going through. The sexual desire to go on with the transition was also too strong to fight. The autogynephilic arousal was so strong in me in private, I had started to dress in the most sexy clothes I found in my Mother's wardrobe since I didn't have any much of my own. She didn't have very sexy stuff though but for me they felt like playboy clothes and I was endlessly aroused by noticing how I was filling out her clothes especially in the breast area. But always after the sexual playing, the confusion and depressed feelings about what I was doing to myself just hit me harder and harder. Somehow I just wasn't able to do anything about it. I started to hide my femininity in public and at home with my parents however for the sexual playing I was just dying to make myself look as feminine as possible. Then when the arousal was gone I just wanted to kill myself for doing this to the male I really was inside. So it was like a snowball effect just making the confusion bigger and harder to handle, but the autogynephilic arousal was always stronger than all the other feelings so it always won. Some gender identity disorder experts had advised my parents not to make any special number of my gender change and part of that was to dress me in normal female clothes which in my parent's case was the unisex clothes. I was disappointed about that but never made any big noise about wanting to dress more femininely because one part of me wasn't completely ok with my transition at all. So part of me was sort of happy for that situation. The other part of me just realised itself when I was in private and dressing up alone. Chapter 7. Living as a girl After I had started living fulltime as a female the male part in me realised that my possibility to live out the male in me was getting more and more limited. I was accepted completely as a girl in the new school. It was very easy without any problems and thanks to my new friendship with a girl I met called Anne, my transition to living full time as a female went very smoothly. Although everything must have seemed fine to my parents and the therapists, inwardly I had big problems with the new situation. I was very uncomfortable and insecure in my new female role. I felt totally alien to my new public role. Anne's support and friendship was without any doubt what saved me from not collapsing mentally in this situation. In hindsight maybe a collapse might have helped rescue me but she managed to help me and show me what I needed to do to avoid any problems with the other girls and of course the boys. She helped me to act and cope in school as a girl and she always supported me socially in class. So I was never left alone facing a tough situation where I didn't know how to act or behave. The teachers knew about me in both schools and I have only good memories of how supportive they were. The only regret I have with them was I never told the teachers about the bullying that went on in the old school. I was fully accepted as a female by all my class and it felt wonderful not to be bullied like before. However this made the male part in me horrified when I realised I had no way to realise that part anymore. Everyone just referred to me as Jane and saw me as a female and that really tore my inner soul apart. I was still after starting to live full time as girl, wearing semi-male clothing most of the time, however I was taken for a girl immediately after switching the public gender role. I don't remember any situation where I was taken for a boy after the switch. In fact, I had been taken for a girl quite often during my last year as a boy in school, by people who didn't know me. I never took part in physical activities after I started to transition. I was exempted from it by both schools. The cover for it was that I had a heart condition. My clothes by this time came only from the girl's section of stores. I had no female jewellery before the public gender role switch and never had much jewellery before I met my current boyfriend. I got my first female necklace from my parents as a gift when I ended my school life as a boy. I first had my ears pierced when I turned 19 and by that time I'd finally decided I would do my best to accept my new gender role and try to live with it. I started to feel even more frustrated inside about living as a girl full time and I was sure that I was doing a big mistake with the transition. I just couldn't stop it. I was feeling like I'd robbed myself of the chance to find out what a male life really would have been like so I started to crossdress back to a male when I was 16 and it continued until just before my sex change surgery. I think female breasts are beautiful, and I love them in my aroused mode, But in a non sexual situation I just feel freakish about them, something that shouldn't be on my chest. If they were smaller and easier to hide, I'm sure I would feel a lot better about them. I have always liked smaller breasts. I'm pretty sure my current boyfriend Peter would feel very bad about a reduction! I have thought about that a lot especially when I was 16 or 17 when I had depression. Breasts react to changes in hormone levels in a very strange way as I found out at that time, if you suddenly stop taking the hormones. The longest I stayed off them was for a week or so and hormonally that's a similar situation to right after a real female gives birth. Her oestrogen level drops down and that acts as a signal for the breasts to start producing milk. There are other hormones too that make it continue and all that. So I had this happening to me and it scared me stiff. I had for a few days not milk, but a clear stuff milky stuff oozing out of my breasts. It wasn't much but it was enough to make my shirt damp and it freaked me out badly! I thought I had some serious disease or breast cancer or something so I went to see my doctor and he asked me if I had forgotten to take my female hormones. I don't want that to happen again, so I haven't wanted to stop HRT again, but quitting the hormones now after all this time wouldn't really make any difference physically. But in the long term, I will need a hormone therapy to avoid osteoporosis for example. Though the hormones might just as well be androgen because I won't change my shape. I found it strange that even this situation didn't blow my cover. I just told my doctor that I must have forgotten to take them somehow. I don't understand how my parents didn't suspect anything either because I had the hormones under my mother's supervision like I explained earlier. This was just seen as a small mishap and nothing more was talked about it. Now thinking back about that does seem strange to me. There I was seemingly happy to be a girl and I missed a week or more of my hormone therapy and no one thought to ask why or thought it strange. I'm more comfortable about accepting breasts are part of me now, and I'm not that self conscious about dressing and catching someone staring at me but I'm not sure I will ever be able to feel ok about them. I was horrified for the situation I found myself in and I have no strong enough words left to describe it. I felt really out of place and I had a hard time getting used to being reacted to and treated as a girl. Anne was my lifeline really. I was always very quiet in school so I was mostly just following the discussions and not taking part unless I really had to. I felt freakish to hear the girls talk about boys, I never related to that but I just played along with it and always tried to get out of those talks. I was very curious though to hear about the period experiences and that was a very popular subject at about this time among the girls. Also here I faked and just went along without taking active part in any talks like this. Chapter 8. Confused I would go out just walking around the block first during the night just to be able to feel like a male again for a moment. I didn't even have to dress very masculine, just the possibility to be 'feeling male' was enough at first. Later I got more and more frustrated and wanted to play out the male part in me more and more. I got out dressed more often, and also started to go to places hoping people would reply to me as a male, but that didn't happen very often and just made my confusion worse. I started to try and find out better ways of giving myself a more masculine impression but despite all this confusion I still did the autogynephilic playing as before with my new female body. I was feeling aroused about my outward signs of femininity so I was thinking that I was mentally very sick. I felt like wanting to kill myself after I returned home from the 'male dressing' when I had to face myself and see the real physical appearance as this half female I had become. The worst situations were especially in the shower and when going to bed. In bed I felt miserable when just a simple thing like turning around in bed made me very aware of my breasts. I feel really mad about them because of their size and the attention they often always cause. I always feel them and get continually reminded of my situation by them. They are in the way of doing things too. They don't prevent anything but still they force me to do things a bit differently than had I not had breasts. Even a game of tennis with my boyfriend is a problem. They feel very disturbing to me in most situations except when I'm in the autogynephilic aroused mood. They are now full D cup and I think they are much too large. That also makes them just strong symbols of my femininity. As I told you earlier I felt very fat with breasts like this and I was very shy about them in public. At the time I started as girl in school, breasts were the big focus of attention by the guys in my class. There was a lot of joking and commenting flying around at that time and it all made me more self- conscious. Once the guys wrote a list on the blackboard of the girls sorted by the breast size. I was put down as the second largest which felt very freakish to me, since I always tried to hide them from being too visible. Bra strap pulling and that sort of attention also didn't help me in feeling better about having breasts. I know I'm not that big and I'm over reacting to this but still it feels like a problem for me. While together with my current boyfriend, I have tried to get over this and I'm a lot more comfortable now about this than I have ever been before. I don't mind wearing a bra as such because it feels much more comfortable than being bra less. But I have a problem looking at myself both in a bra and bra less, my breasts are a kind of mental taboo to me. Again I have to say that despite all this, I still get the autogynephilic arousal for having breasts and the way they look and move, feel and all that. It all feels like I'm not looking at myself in that mood but just making the 'sex show' for myself. I still had no power to end my transition and to all the therapists I was seeing and the doctors I just 'played' out the happy front of being in the transition and dying to get the final sex change surgery over with! I find it hard now to understand why I never really told anyone. Because now after the surgery I know that things never improved, I was just continuing to make it more and more difficult to get out from my awful situation. At that time I never presented a male front to anyone I knew, except to some of my relatives during the school switch summer and a bit into the new school semester. After that it was impossible. Unless I showed them my penis it would be impossible to convince them I wasn't a girl. I looked like a girl and sounded like one. I was also haunted by not having had any experience of lovemaking as a male would to a female, and I desperately wanted to have that experience before my final surgery. I tried to get into some dance clubs dressed as a male and I had planned to hit on any girl I would be able to get. My desperate plan was I would get her so drunk that she wouldn't mind about my physical appearance just to be able to make love to her! It was a desperate plan I know and I never got into any dance place like that but just managed to get into some bars. However once inside I never had the guts to approach anyone! So this plan was never realised! This was the time I got very depressed and was again thinking of killing myself. I wasn't able to stop the transition and I understood I would have a hard time coping with myself in the future if I didn't stop it. By this time I'd gone through my 'female' puberty long since and my body wasn't physically changing any longer. I had the female body I had wanted, except for the genitals. I also realised though I would never ever be able to end the transition at that time and go back to live as a believable male again. Somehow I had until that moment always imagined in the back of my mind I would somehow be able to undo everything if needed and go back to my real male self again. I had just pushed away the thinking about that until then. Chapter 9. The surgery Everything was set for my surgery and we were just waiting for me to turn 18 to legally be able to have the sex change surgery done. I didn't have the guts to kill myself and I didn't have the power to stop my transition, so I just realised I had no other option than going on with the planned surgery so that it just happened like that! The sex change surgery was planned so far in advance but I would have physically been ready for it when I was 15. The only thing we waited for was me to turn 18 for the legal side to say it could happen. I had realised I had played the game too far at that time and there was just no point in delaying it anymore. I never wanted to hurt my parents like I would have done if I had told the truth at that time. I was also very alone and had absolutely no one to talk about this with. As I said I was able to get a weak erection all the way until the sex change surgery but that wasn't something I enjoyed towards the end. I didn't see any other options for me than having the surgery and I had no other option but to swallow the pain that it was going to bring along. At that time I decided that I would never tell my parents or anyone else about this mistake I was making because I knew that would have broken their hearts. I never wanted to hurt anyone else with this, so in that sense I saw the sex change surgery as an option to finally force myself to accept my life as a female from then on. By then it was much too late, my breasts were almost fully developed, my hips were wide and my waist had narrowed. Because I had gone through a female puberty not only had my outline become female but my height was also much less. My skin was very soft and it's still covered with a thin female hair that looks normal for a woman. By that time I was probably chemically castrated too so even if I had stopped everything then I would never be able to father children. I had the surgery just five days after my 18th birthday in November 1991 and the date was arranged through my father's contacts. The surgery as such didn't make any big change in the way I was acting socially but it had a huge impact inside my mind. I thought that by having the surgery, I would finally and forever force myself to feel good about being a female. That I just had to do it and that was what I have been doing ever since with varying success! I had given up my last bit of hope for ever being able to undo what I had started, so I just had made up my mind to have it over with no matter what I thought about it. Because there were no way I would be going to tell my parents it was a mistake at that late moment. I just hoped I was going to be able to accept my new life as a real female after the surgery. I just felt mentally numb at the time approached for the surgery. I really didn't care any more about anything at that moment and so I just let it happen. Mentally I still thought of myself as being male and I still do. I felt the inner me was male and the surgery really didn't change that feeling of me being male but it caused a lot of frustration though the my change in situation. Afterwards I was physically just numb all over at first then in a huge pain that felt like I was hanging from the ceiling from my penis. It was an indescribable feeling. The first thing I thought was, 'oh great they didn't do it!' That was because I had never felt my penis physically as strong I did then. But that was just the reaction of the nerves to the big surgery of course. The same feeling someone has whose arm has been amputated and they can still feel their fingers! I was always playing down my femininity in public and never dressed very femininely except when going to some school parties. Then I would dress a bit more femininely in a skirt and blouse with moderate heels. I had by that time bought myself a very feminine wardrobe and in private I was always admiring my femininity dressed up in the stuff but always felt so confused by it all afterwards that I never dressed long or in public like that. When my therapists asked about my sexual desires, I had always told them I was attracted to men and would like to be interacting as a female with a man. In reality I never had any much feelings of being sexually attracted to other males or even females, I was just somehow obsessed with myself. I still am. The surgery was a much more painful experience than I had expected and there were a few days with great physical discomfort that caused. Then after that I suddenly had some kind of weird, horrified and aroused feeling that I had no way to ever go back to being a male any more. That I was stuck in a female body and I somehow thought it would make things easier to handle. Chapter 10. Post Op depressions When I got home, I was disturbed about my new body in the shower, in bed and every time it was exposed while I was in a non-sexual mood. Doing the toilet as female is something I still today find very disturbing because I really miss the fast and easy way of urinating. I have always had big problems going to public toilets for hygienic reasons and it's so much easier and better in a standing position. Prior to the surgery my doctor had gone trough everything linked to the surgery and post-op care and all but I wasn't paying much attention to any of that stuff before the surgery. I was just too tired mentally for the situation and really didn't care any more. Afterwards the dilation was a very hard thing to get into. I felt so disgusted by my vagina and just the sight of it made it very hard not to collapse into self-pity. I did long painful sessions of dilating very frequently in the beginning and I was told to be very careful with my hygiene while doing this. They told me a neovagina doesn't have the 'self cleaning' system that a normal vagina has. Well I mishandled my hygiene and got infections twice, the first time I was again taken into hospital for a week because I didn't notice and tell anyone about my physical pain in my vagina because I was in such a bad mental condition. Slowly I got over my worst feelings about my vagina and I took better care of myself too, so this hasn't happened since. Surgically now and cosmetically my vagina is fine. It looks very realistic and I have most of the functions that a real vagina has with a clitoris and the labia or vaginal lips. After the surgery instead of forcing me to accept the situation, I fell into a quite deep 'inner' depression because I was just horrified for what I had allowed to happen. I was able somehow to keep up a happy front to the outer world. I was seeing a therapist at the time before my surgery and continued sometime after, but I never told her about any of my true feelings. So the effect of the therapy was close to zero. My therapist was just focusing her attention to how to cope in the new role and other things that really didn't matter at all to me really. I'm a bit surprised she never saw my depression and in a way I was somehow hoping she would suspect something was wrong and ask me about it but it never happened. I don't have very high opinions about the therapists really, because I feel they should have somehow noticed my situation through the whole transitioning process. I lied to them though and so I take the blame too. I was seeing many therapists from the very first sessions until after the surgery but they all swallowed my 'happy front' without question! Please don't think I'm blaming the therapists for this because I know I didn't play an open game with them so I really just can blame myself for it all. I have read about the big problems many transsexuals have had with convincing the therapists to get approval for the transition, but I'm not familiar with that. In my case there were no stops in the process after it started. It's a bit like a runaway train and after it started it never stopped so to say. All the therapists and experts were just helping me with the transition without many thinking about how it all felt. I have no good explanation why this was the way things started rolling, but I'm sure that the fact my father is a doctor somehow had an effect on it. I think the experts were assuming my father had a larger role and responsibility in my case. So I think they maybe didn't ever want go too deep into the screening process because they assumed my father did it. These are just my vague feelings and thoughts about it and I might be wrong but this was how I felt anyway. So I managed to get my depression following the surgery under control somehow after a few months. I got out of the depression when I just realised there was no way to get out of the situation I was now in and the best I could do was to accept myself as female and start making a life as a female. My male side was pushed aside again but it didn't stay hidden for very long periods though. I was still dressing down my femininity in public as much as possible and I didn't have any sexual desire about myself like I had as a pre-op. So I didn't find myself sexually exciting anymore. I hated my female body and was so confused by having to act a role in public that originally was just meant to be totally in private. And that sexual private desire wasn't there anymore. It took a long time before I even could look closely at my new female genitals without getting upset by them and even longer before I was able to explore them sexually. My breasts have always had a strong mental meaning for me. I had strong mixed feelings about them and by this time I was very depressed by them because they were constantly reminding me of the situation I was in. I felt like I had a wing clipped or something. I didn't have any way to find sexual satisfaction or I didn't want to explore my 'new sexual tools' that I had been given, although my libido was also very close to zero. I just hated myself for everything I had done to myself. In public I was still showing the 'happy front' to everyone and I even managed to finish off school. Then I got into the trade institute and passed the secretarial exam in 2 years. So the front I showed was always good. I think I should have studied something more masculine though and I don't have any good explanation about why I didn't. My first option was to become a doctor and get into medical school but my poor school grades prevented that. I didn't even try to apply to medical school. So I studied languages. At one time I studied on an advanced mathematics line but switched in my final year at school to a less advanced one because my energy was at that time too consumed by the discomfort I was feeling about my surgery and my situation. I don't like mathematics very much but I started the advanced course because it would have given me a larger choice of studying options later. I guess I would have managed to complete it though if I hadn't had the mental problems I had at the time. I like to read about science too and I am subscribe to the Scientific American. It's a great magazine and in one recent edition there was actually an article about Lynn Conway, who is a Professor of Computer Science and a TS-woman who has been post-op for a long time. Her transsexuality was described in a very positive and non judgmental way. She has a homepage too. I also like to read about history and I follow the daily news and politics but only read more if the subjects interest me! I always skip the sport pages unless there is something specific I'm searching about. So I had no real ambitions in life when I was 19 years old. I was still very depressed and confused about myself. I'd just ended school and locked myself out from the world as much as I could and I just felt depressed about everything. Anne had long ago decided to become a secretary, so I just hooked on to her and started studying that too. And even though we continued studying together, I had very little contact with her then. The course was just a way to fill my life with something at the time. I had no ambitions at all right then, so getting into the secretary school wasn't that bad really it gave me something to do. If I would have had more energy at that time, I would surely have started studying something else, but I am not sure what exactly. Maybe I would have applied for university to study journalism. I played out the role of any 'normal' female but I was careful to avoid getting close to anyone at that time. I nearly destroyed my relations with Anne too at that time and I didn't have any contact with her for almost a year. Luckily that friendship survived to this day. Anne is very important to me still and I'm trying to support her with the illness of her son. I saw her last week at the hospital and I have been phoning her too. Anne and her husband have the support from their parents and there isn't very much I can do to help her practically. We have been talking a lot and that's the help I can give to get her thoughts focused for a while to something else. We have actually been talking about her part in my life during recently, as this has been on my mind a lot lately. She knows how important she always was to me. She is the only person I would like get all this out to but I know she woul