I had a fun morning at the Ballet. It was nice to see them again after all this time. (There's a picture in the Gallery that was taken today.) I could put in only three hours because of my early afternoon VA appointment.

My friend, the nurse practitioner, had a colonoscopy last fall that revealed the presence of colon cancer. Surgery was successful, and she didn't have to endure chemotherapy. News like that sure puts my "problem" into proper perspective.

I talked with her about my options. The local VA center doesn't provide hormone replacement therapy for treatment of gender issues, so the alternative to continued self-medication is to seek a cooperative endocrinologist in private practice.

I heard the same words from her that I hear from everyone else: "You have to do what makes you happy."

Okay. I will.

I'm dropping the "Yes, but..." and "What if..." thoughts from further consideration. I'm accepting at face value the premise that people who support me now will do so later as well. In essence, I'm giving up trying to manage the future. If things go bad, they go bad.

This one time - maybe for the first time - I'm going to be selfish.

There's no going back...no keeping it bottled up.

My name is Kay.

I am a transsexual.

I feel as if someone reading this - many reading this - may want to reach through the web and smack me upside the head. And I deserve it.

What a waffler: Yes, I will. No, I won’t. Yes, I do. No, I don’t.

Make a decision, already! Choose a team and suit up! Get back to writing fun stuff!

I overanalyze. Any major decision without a clear solution must be dissected, examined and discussed ad infinitum. My poor wife must be thinking, “I don’t care if you paint on stripes and party with zebras. Just do something and stop talking!”.

(The zebras thing is just an outrageous example. Don’t get me wrong; I adore zebras - just not in that way.)

Here’s the problem. I love my life - which is to say my marriage. It doesn’t matter how much reassurance I get. I just can’t shake the feeling that changing the status quo will lead to problems down the road. It will have been my fault. I will have made a choice
that caused it to happen. And then nothing else will matter.

I’m scared.

The answer I keep hearing is, “You have to do what makes you happy.” But I don’t. I can choose not to. I can live out my life secure in the knowledge that there’s nothing else I would or could do to threaten what I have - what’s of such vital importance to me.

I’ve been left before. Despite my very best efforts, I’ve found myself watching cars and lives pull away, crying my eyes out. I’m a bad memory...a mistake...something from which to learn and move on. It hurts me to know that.

I’m so stoked right now. Being myself is a powerful drug. Now, I’m twenty years younger, full of joy, incredibly energetic. I want so much to hold onto this.

But...

I know that's a trite phrase. But it feels so good to say it. And to be it.

After two full days at the office, it's as if I've worked there for months. As I'm sure you can tell, I'm still a bit stunned by the fact that I can be treated just like a woman by other women. There has not been a single misuse of pronouns. These people are genuine, kind and very friendly. There's not a hint of awkwardness as they include me in conversations between themselves and with others who stop by.

Consequently, I've quickly become more confident. Around Noon, I went outside to get some fresh air. After a few minutes, I realized, "Oh, yeah...I'm dressed as Kay." I felt no apprehension, though people were around. And because I was calm, I'm sure, they paid no attention to me.

Despite my previously-mentioned aversion to pictures, I've posted one that shows me at my desk. Visit the Gallery if you dare... (NOTE TO SELF: Call cosmetic surgeon.)

Now I can look ahead to Monday - when I'll be getting medical advice on hormones, etc., from my VA nurse practitioner. She hasn't seen me since last August. Now, I'm twenty pounds lighter...and working as a woman.

We'll have a lot to talk about.

It's lunchtime on Thursday. I've been here since nine this morning and am planning to stay until five. I've working all day tomorrow, too. This will be the first time I've worked two full days in a row.

Pat and I had a long talk this morning. She's leaving in less than a week, and I'll miss her. She raved about my outfit and my ability to accessorize (Who knew?). I told her some of the things that are on my mind these days, and she's so sympathetic.

Would that the real world were like this. I'm treated so very well here. They introduce me to everyone who comes in and act as if they've known me forever.

It's time to fish or cut bait, as they say in...(Where do they say that?) Anyway, I had a conversation with my wife late yesterday afternoon - basically to insure that she sees transition as the right path for me to take. I told her my concerns about her and the people we know. When I think of the effects on others, I find it hard to justify doing something so selfish. But she's convinced I need to be myself and is ready to handle whatever comes our way as a result.

I had stepped back a lot in the last few days. I seriously considered fulfilling my volunteer commitments through Monday and then asking the VA to set me up for testosterone treatment - no matter what mental price I might pay. It's that damned stoic streak again. Suck it up, for the common good.

But after we discussed it, I began to come around. We decided to go to the club - a little earlier than usual - and had a wonderful time. Nothing like a little (or a lot of) dancing to clear the head.

So I guess it's full speed ahead. Damn the torpedoes, as they say in...(Where do they say that?)

Life's full of ups and downs, twists and turns, surprises and disappointments.

Why not be dressed (and accessorized) well?

Today, the Ballet asked for my help with an upcoming database entry project - not Kathy this time, but two other women I know in the Marketing department. I'm going to give them Monday morning, as I've already committed to working Thursday and Friday this week at the other office.

I'll need to leave there around Noon, come home and change, and then head for the VA for my hormone talk with the nurse practitioner. She's told me in the past I could come in dressed any way I like, but things would be awkward in the waiting room because Kay Henderson isn't my name or gender of record.

Oddly, I was thinking today that I could ask for a testosterone supplement. That's right - even after all this, something in me still wonders if I should just reverse the whole process. Maybe it's a sense of finality - that I'm crossing a bridge with no way home. But I'm now resolute in my belief that I'm doing the right thing.

The fly in that particular ointment, of course, is that testosterone makes things worse. Gender dysphoria rushes back, the mind is in turmoil, anger bubbles up... It's not fun. And, instead of calmly making sound decisions like the one that led me to volunteer, I'd be led by irrational thought into taking risks.

After a lull, things are picking up. Now, two organizations need me. It should be no problem to work three full days a week. That's quite a change from last month, when I was so underutilized.

I've already told Kathy and I'm going to tell Ann and Pat that I'm on a path to transition. I've never said it in so many words before, so none of them really knew anything beyond the fact that I am transgendered. I'm laying the cards on the table partly to put pressure upon myself. A commitment's easy to break if no one else is aware of it. And, knowing these women as I do, I'm certain they will do all they can to help me along.

Today or tomorrow, the hit count for this blog will be ten thousand. I'm watching it climb, much as I might stare at my car's odometer as it's about to hit some dramatic but inconsequential mileage benchmark.

Ten thousand visits in six-and-a-half months. Maybe it's not much in the overall scheme of things. But to me it means I've written something that touched a few lives. Whether I made you laugh, melted your heart, gave you hope or just diverted your attention for a minute, I stepped out of my world and into yours. I had an impact.

Even at my lowly level of writing, that's a wonderful feeling.