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keeping up appearences

I had my yearly physical yesterday. My doctor knows I'm transgendered and so , besides taking my blood sample and checking vital signs, we discussed where I am in life with all this. Interestingly he immediately zeroed in on the main crux - my marriage ended over this and now a second one (at least partially). He wanted to know if I intended to spend the rest of my life alone. I started to almost cry as he had really nailed it. I guess I have not really given up hope entirely about finding companionship. After composing myself for a moment I answered that if it came down to my mental health or suppressing my trans nature to be with a woman I would choose to stay sane.

I am still working at voiding myself of the pairing instinct in order to become truly whole. This work needs to be done in order to fully understand myself. Because even if I have abandoned the idea of physical transition, I am still weighing life transition. I might one day desire to live and work full time as the woman I am.

The truth is that as I spend more time living as joanna I am noticing an interesting phenomenon - it's always been hard work for me to be a male. I have had to actively work at creating a facade to meet expectation. This does not happen when I am joanna because I AM joanna. Admitting that you've been a failure as a male is not something to feel ashamed about. After all I've never been wired for it so I had to work extra hard in order not to let others see that I was really female. The problem these days is that I'm tired of working at that facade.

Case in point:

Last evening there was a happy hour for an employee who was leaving the firm. Whereas I never attend these events I accepted this one as I felt I should and this employee had been 8 years with the firm. We ended up at a trendy place with lots of beautiful people and even more beautiful waitresses.

Suddenly I was that awkward boy at the high school dance all over again wishing I was the pretty girl in the dress and heels. Sure enough a well endowed tall bombshell of a waitress approached me to ask what I wanted to drink. She was in a tight fitting black dress and matching pumps. I wished I was her even as I was taken by her striking image. I socialized awkwardly with people half my age and although I was glad I went and enjoyed myself, I was struck by how much effort it takes to play the male me.

The evening stayed with me as I drifted off to sleep last night. My doctor wonders how I am going to balance life between two worlds. I told him I did not know either but that I would find out one day at a time.

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