Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Saturday, February 11, 2012
Relationships and Sexuality
Before I started my long grueling road of transition, I was shy and introverted. I was a bit of a hermit and I hated going out in public. That all changed...
About a month after I had started HRT, I started feeling more comfortable in my own skin. That comfort lead to me being able to go out in public again and not cover up in super baggy clothes and try and hide my face in a hoodie. I was introduced to a few people who are part of a Local Jacksonville community of non-conforming peoples both on Gender and Sexuality. In this group I've met a lot of people I have grown to love dearly. In this group, I've met some of my most intimate relationships.
Before I started my transition I had all of one major relationship that lasted longer then a week. I met a girl name Valerie, and she seemed pretty okay with me being as weird as I am. We did some really non-conventional things together, but generally we had fun hanging out. Though I had lost my virginity years before her, she was the first person I ever romantically enjoyed spending time with. But sadly it wasn't meant to be, and eventually we separated over my gender identity issues. We still talk randomly but no where near as much as we used too.
It was her acknowledgement that I wasn't man enough for her that really sparked me into wanting to finally transition. Without her relationship I probably wouldn't have ended up self medicating even with Erin's help. She was the ex I had just come home from seeing when I decided I might try committing suicide. But I didn't and I did start taking those pills.
Back then, I considered myself strictly Heterosexual, Only finding sexual attraction with female bodied people, even trans women. After starting my transition I had multiple short term flings with various women, all knew I was Trans, all accepted me as trans, and all of them acted and treated me like a girl. I was in heaven with them. But afterwards, I always felt... drained, never satisfied. Maybe it was the dysphoria. Maybe it was just that I was being overly judgmental about myself. But I realized I wasn't really all that attracted to women. Yes, I'm in love with their shape and form. But making love to a woman like a man, or even like another woman would, seemed to stressful on my emotional well being... I continued to call myself a Lesbian, though there came a time where, I would never go back to bed with another woman.
Then I met Eric.
Eric was a year younger then me, a geek, bisexual/pansexual, and a cis male. He had a funny smirk, a shy demeanor, and when I kissed him he blushed and cooed. I love being with him, but he doesn't want a permanent committed relationship.
I look around, and even though I'm happy with Eric, I don't see any other male bodied person I'd feel comfortable being with. I doubt I'll find the perfect mate for me any time soon. So right now I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing and stay happy.
About a month after I had started HRT, I started feeling more comfortable in my own skin. That comfort lead to me being able to go out in public again and not cover up in super baggy clothes and try and hide my face in a hoodie. I was introduced to a few people who are part of a Local Jacksonville community of non-conforming peoples both on Gender and Sexuality. In this group I've met a lot of people I have grown to love dearly. In this group, I've met some of my most intimate relationships.
Before I started my transition I had all of one major relationship that lasted longer then a week. I met a girl name Valerie, and she seemed pretty okay with me being as weird as I am. We did some really non-conventional things together, but generally we had fun hanging out. Though I had lost my virginity years before her, she was the first person I ever romantically enjoyed spending time with. But sadly it wasn't meant to be, and eventually we separated over my gender identity issues. We still talk randomly but no where near as much as we used too.
It was her acknowledgement that I wasn't man enough for her that really sparked me into wanting to finally transition. Without her relationship I probably wouldn't have ended up self medicating even with Erin's help. She was the ex I had just come home from seeing when I decided I might try committing suicide. But I didn't and I did start taking those pills.
Back then, I considered myself strictly Heterosexual, Only finding sexual attraction with female bodied people, even trans women. After starting my transition I had multiple short term flings with various women, all knew I was Trans, all accepted me as trans, and all of them acted and treated me like a girl. I was in heaven with them. But afterwards, I always felt... drained, never satisfied. Maybe it was the dysphoria. Maybe it was just that I was being overly judgmental about myself. But I realized I wasn't really all that attracted to women. Yes, I'm in love with their shape and form. But making love to a woman like a man, or even like another woman would, seemed to stressful on my emotional well being... I continued to call myself a Lesbian, though there came a time where, I would never go back to bed with another woman.
Then I met Eric.
Eric was a year younger then me, a geek, bisexual/pansexual, and a cis male. He had a funny smirk, a shy demeanor, and when I kissed him he blushed and cooed. I love being with him, but he doesn't want a permanent committed relationship.
I look around, and even though I'm happy with Eric, I don't see any other male bodied person I'd feel comfortable being with. I doubt I'll find the perfect mate for me any time soon. So right now I'm going to keep doing what I'm doing and stay happy.
Friday, February 10, 2012
Start of something new, Part two.
So instead of coming out and telling people I was uncomfortable, I just overcompensated. I joined a few sports teams because my parents told me too. I do extreme stuff that only REAL MEN did. I went hunting, I played games, I got good with computers. Manly Men Things. But again, in the end these things made me hate myself.
It all culminated to a suicidal idealization a week before I turned 25. I had spent the better part of 2 years from my 23rd birthday in trying to find a doctor in town that would help me. I found none. No one in this town would lift a finger to help me. When I tried discussing my issues with the people who were supposed to be my health care professionals they forwarded me the Asylums. Mental Health Clinics that wanted me to sign over my rights to them. That isn't what I asked for, thanks for all the help.
So the week before I turned 25, after getting home, after having one last day out with my ex, I'd probably never see her again. I went to my bathroom. Cleaned myself, washed every inch of me. Got dressed in my nicest clothes. Wrote a letter apologizing for being a failure, for being a freak, for have no sense of control. And I apologized to myself. I folded the letter up, put it in the pocket of my shirt. I picked my rifle up, single loaded one round into the chamber, closed the chamber and held the rifle in my hands.
I thought about it again. I probably sat there for an hour, stewing, not knowing if I could actually do this. I laid down, I put the barrel into mouth, Put my finger on the safety to turn it off...
And my phone rang.
I pulled it out from where I put it, checked the message, It was my friend Angie. We talked. I don't even remember what about. But afterwards, I went online and checked some sites. I sent some messages to people in Jacksonville. And I met Erin.
God, I don't know why you joke with me so much. She had to be a red head. I love and loath red heads. I do not know why. They enter my life, teach me something about myself, then flitter away like nothing happened, but I'm changed forever.
Erin changed me forever.
Erin was lovely, a few years younger then me, very shy, very quiet. Cute as a button. Lovely.
I fell in love with her almost instantly. I still love her deeply.
She is trans, she had been transitioning since high school. She was active in a few social circles online that supported trans people. I told her I had been having issues with my Gender. She smiled and told me everything would be ok. She slowly walked me through the dangers of self medicating. But the benefits as well, and I thank her so much for the patience she had with me.
A few days later, My birthday, I started taking Estrogen (Estrace) and Anti-Androgens (Spironolactone). Within a week, the suicidal thoughts were gone. Withing two weeks the anger and hatred I had for the whole world was gone. Within a month I was losing weight, something I hadn't done in years. By the time Christmas came around, it was 6 months and I was getting ma'amed in public, even when in guy mode.
I had breast growth, I had emotional highs and lows, I was falling in love constantly. I was going through a second puberty. This time, it wasn't hell. It was paradise.
It all culminated to a suicidal idealization a week before I turned 25. I had spent the better part of 2 years from my 23rd birthday in trying to find a doctor in town that would help me. I found none. No one in this town would lift a finger to help me. When I tried discussing my issues with the people who were supposed to be my health care professionals they forwarded me the Asylums. Mental Health Clinics that wanted me to sign over my rights to them. That isn't what I asked for, thanks for all the help.
So the week before I turned 25, after getting home, after having one last day out with my ex, I'd probably never see her again. I went to my bathroom. Cleaned myself, washed every inch of me. Got dressed in my nicest clothes. Wrote a letter apologizing for being a failure, for being a freak, for have no sense of control. And I apologized to myself. I folded the letter up, put it in the pocket of my shirt. I picked my rifle up, single loaded one round into the chamber, closed the chamber and held the rifle in my hands.
I thought about it again. I probably sat there for an hour, stewing, not knowing if I could actually do this. I laid down, I put the barrel into mouth, Put my finger on the safety to turn it off...
And my phone rang.
I pulled it out from where I put it, checked the message, It was my friend Angie. We talked. I don't even remember what about. But afterwards, I went online and checked some sites. I sent some messages to people in Jacksonville. And I met Erin.
God, I don't know why you joke with me so much. She had to be a red head. I love and loath red heads. I do not know why. They enter my life, teach me something about myself, then flitter away like nothing happened, but I'm changed forever.
Erin changed me forever.
Erin was lovely, a few years younger then me, very shy, very quiet. Cute as a button. Lovely.
I fell in love with her almost instantly. I still love her deeply.
She is trans, she had been transitioning since high school. She was active in a few social circles online that supported trans people. I told her I had been having issues with my Gender. She smiled and told me everything would be ok. She slowly walked me through the dangers of self medicating. But the benefits as well, and I thank her so much for the patience she had with me.
A few days later, My birthday, I started taking Estrogen (Estrace) and Anti-Androgens (Spironolactone). Within a week, the suicidal thoughts were gone. Withing two weeks the anger and hatred I had for the whole world was gone. Within a month I was losing weight, something I hadn't done in years. By the time Christmas came around, it was 6 months and I was getting ma'amed in public, even when in guy mode.
I had breast growth, I had emotional highs and lows, I was falling in love constantly. I was going through a second puberty. This time, it wasn't hell. It was paradise.
Start of something new, get to know me better.
Ahhhh, a Blog.
I never thought I'd get so interested in actually running one, but I figured it was time.
I may not update this thing very often, but I promise you I will try. I guess I should just start off by explaining who I am.
I'm Maxine Jessica Payne. I'm currently identified as Genderqueer. I was born male in '86, and have been confused and uncomfortable with myself my whole life. When I was about Five years old, I had a sudden thought. Why was I born a boy? I didn't know, I didn't understand that it wasn't anything I had a choice in. I had a loving family, my mother and father were both present for the majority of my childhood. I was happy being rambunctious at school and quiet at home, but that didn't mean I was comfortable. I had no way to explain how I felt to my parents, I didn't have a vocabulary strong enough to tell them how I really felt. I didn't know what I was...
The truth hit me when I turned 13, I started going through puberty. Male Puberty. Something I like to call HELL. For those who have gone puberty they know it was a strange time. Growing up, clothes constantly changing size, your favorite shirt no longer fitting because your arms and head are suddenly too big. Yet you swear you were just wearing it last week. Things started happening with me, things I didn't understand. The worst of which was the sudden separation of my parents, just as I started going through this major change in my life.
For the longest time, I was the largest kid in my class. I was 5'11, everyone else in my classes at the time was under 5'0, some even shorter. I was called freak, fat ass, lard, giant, and many other negative names. Then in a sudden rage, I snapped on one of my own tormentors and they were suddenly no longer able to cope with just how imposing a giant I really was. I had been asleep up till that point, they definitely felt it when I woke up. Lucky for me, one fight was enough. Rumors spread. I might be big, but I'm not weak.
Suddenly, I also started making friends, female friends. Lots of female friends. I never questioned it, I still don't, but all through elementary, middle, and highschool the majority of my friends were female. Of all the kids I remember from my times at school, I remember the names of the females that were in my life. I may not remember their full names, but their first names at least are burned permanently into my brain.
Amber, Brianna, Krysta, Siobhan, Laren, Ashley, Angelica, Claire, Cara, Violet, Katherine, Katt, Diana,
Even if you guys do not remember me. I remember you. Out of everyone in that list, only Brianna, Krysta, Angelica, and Claire know the real me. They are the ones who all know I'm Transgender.
But I love every single one of them for being in my life.
Those female friends I had, made me feel welcomed, loved, and important. I enjoyed spending my time with them. But in the end it made me hate myself as I'd get so depressed seeing them grow up and knowing I'd never be able to live like they do. In school I was one of them, but in reality I was still a boy. And I hated myself for it.
I never thought I'd get so interested in actually running one, but I figured it was time.
I may not update this thing very often, but I promise you I will try. I guess I should just start off by explaining who I am.
I'm Maxine Jessica Payne. I'm currently identified as Genderqueer. I was born male in '86, and have been confused and uncomfortable with myself my whole life. When I was about Five years old, I had a sudden thought. Why was I born a boy? I didn't know, I didn't understand that it wasn't anything I had a choice in. I had a loving family, my mother and father were both present for the majority of my childhood. I was happy being rambunctious at school and quiet at home, but that didn't mean I was comfortable. I had no way to explain how I felt to my parents, I didn't have a vocabulary strong enough to tell them how I really felt. I didn't know what I was...
The truth hit me when I turned 13, I started going through puberty. Male Puberty. Something I like to call HELL. For those who have gone puberty they know it was a strange time. Growing up, clothes constantly changing size, your favorite shirt no longer fitting because your arms and head are suddenly too big. Yet you swear you were just wearing it last week. Things started happening with me, things I didn't understand. The worst of which was the sudden separation of my parents, just as I started going through this major change in my life.
For the longest time, I was the largest kid in my class. I was 5'11, everyone else in my classes at the time was under 5'0, some even shorter. I was called freak, fat ass, lard, giant, and many other negative names. Then in a sudden rage, I snapped on one of my own tormentors and they were suddenly no longer able to cope with just how imposing a giant I really was. I had been asleep up till that point, they definitely felt it when I woke up. Lucky for me, one fight was enough. Rumors spread. I might be big, but I'm not weak.
Suddenly, I also started making friends, female friends. Lots of female friends. I never questioned it, I still don't, but all through elementary, middle, and highschool the majority of my friends were female. Of all the kids I remember from my times at school, I remember the names of the females that were in my life. I may not remember their full names, but their first names at least are burned permanently into my brain.
Amber, Brianna, Krysta, Siobhan, Laren, Ashley, Angelica, Claire, Cara, Violet, Katherine, Katt, Diana,
Even if you guys do not remember me. I remember you. Out of everyone in that list, only Brianna, Krysta, Angelica, and Claire know the real me. They are the ones who all know I'm Transgender.
But I love every single one of them for being in my life.
Those female friends I had, made me feel welcomed, loved, and important. I enjoyed spending my time with them. But in the end it made me hate myself as I'd get so depressed seeing them grow up and knowing I'd never be able to live like they do. In school I was one of them, but in reality I was still a boy. And I hated myself for it.
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