I’ve mentioned that I’ve been struggling with dysphoria since high school. 1999-2000. But I kept it all a secret because I was worried about what others thought.
In 2016, all the feelings came to the fore. Still kept most of it a secret… but I started leaking to others that Amber was present and wanted to do stuff.
In 2017, in May, couldn’t keep it a secret any more. Spilled it on Facebook. Got support.
But with the diagnosis of dysphoria, hating my penis and wanting to wake up as a woman, I told my doctor I was ready to transition.
It is time, really. I feel that Bob is pretty well dead. He doesn’t know what to do… he’s not in charge any more, and Amber sits in the driver’s seat and the car is empty besides her.
I told my doctor. I have her support, yes… but she doesn’t know much. She says she’s trying to refer me to a specialist, but I haven’t heard anything back from them. My counselor knows this too, and she gave the diagnosis of dysphoria.
But in terms of being a woman, I don’t like being 6’2″ and having size 13 man’s shoes. Size 15 women’s are hard to find. I don’t like having 5 O’clock shadow and having to be heavy on foundation to hide it. My brows are too furry. So on.
I will tell my doctor about the endocrinologists down here in Holland, and I hope I can get in. To start on estrogen and be free for a change would be amazing. I know I have a long road to go and some people are just plain mean.
The charade is over though. Amber Marie is here, and Bob doesn’t exist. Or if he did, that was in a time long ago. Deal.