In the Wizard of Oz, Dorothy follows the "yellow" brick road to the Emerald city.  At the beginning there are two choices but she is directed to the yellow one.  Where does the red brick road lead?

I like to think I am following that red brick road, the road less taken, the unknown road.  Like the start of both roads, they were small, expanding as you followed them

Little things from long ago.  Remembering feeling that I was in the wrong body, that God had messed up, or the doctors and my parents made a decision.  What they thought was best, wasn't who I was (am).  Strange how a 3-4 year old can form such thoughts.  My strongest memory is asking my adult baby sitter why the doctor had "sewn me closed"?  Maybe subconsciously I have seen a female with no clothes and knew that there was a vagina?  Seems unlikely.  But I could feel the "scar". Now I know what the scar really is and every male has one, but then to me it was the reason I wasn't the girl I was supposed to be.  I related to girls better.  I didn't like the rough and tumble physicality of little boys.  I just felt...wrong

My story isn't very different than thousands of transsexuals out there.  Seems we all have the same base with varying details.  So I won't bore you at this point with those.  Just understand that often in life I felt out of place when in male dominated groups.  Like being trapped where I didn't want to be.  I knew, inside, that things were wrong.

But I convinced myself that it was me who was wrong.  That I had an illness, something in my brain, that made me think "wrong".  So I did what most transpeople my age did, I went in the opposite direction of my feelings.  I played sports.  Hot corner in softball, Goaltender in field hockey, what is now called a Libero in volleyball.  Even cornerback in football.  All places where I had to react to something coming at me.  I had to defend.  Seems I was asking to be attacked.  I did well at all of them, not prolevel but highly competitive.  Also, if you look closely, they are almost all (football excluded) what in the US we considered "Women's" sports.

Along with sports I tried to do things to prove how macho I was.  I was a jerk toward women I wanted to date (More on that subject in a later blog).  I drove too fast.  Skied double black diamonds...without poles.  Yet I always felt that what I was doing wasn't me.

Skip over about 25 years, being married twice (once to a Playboy Bunny).  Having a girlfriend (yes, see above about playing the jerk, but to be honest, I loved my wife and girlfriend equally).  I was successful being a professional and hiding my true self.  I did give myself a little respite, little hidden (or not) things that showed my femininity.  Clothing from the women's section.  Nail polish.  Smooth legs. Tinted lip gloss.  I now know I wasn't fooling anyone.  Of course my two women ( The greatest women anyone could ask to be with by the way) knew the big picture.  I was still telling myself though that I wasn't a transsexual.

Yes I wanted to be a woman with all my heart.  But it wasn't "logical nor practical" in my life.  I had to be what those around me wanted me to be.

Fast forward a again.  After years of letting life take me where it wanted and being content and comfortable, the rug was pulled.  My wife was diagnosed with breast cancer and it took her 5 years later.  My girlfriend, my soul mate, died 18 months later (to the day)suddenly to an aneurism.  Now I had no anchor, nothing to keep me pretending.    A year of grieving, then thinking "Go be who you are."  I played a new role.  I was a cross dresser.  Man by day, woman by night.  This wasn't right either and with help of a great community, I learned that I needed to be a woman.  I didn't jump in with both feet.  I stuck my toe in...one day dressed and doing what normal people do...then more days and then...making the call.  Dressing 24-7 as we say.  On my yearly health exam I asked my primary doctor how to start transitioning. 

The next step was counseling.  No shock there, I had GID.  Gender Identity disorder.  Next was hormones.  A full year of real life (watching the practice i had built dwindle...persuading myself it wasn't the transition).  Then closing the practice...

Now I have the documentation and the changes that legally tell the world I am a woman.  I am who I knew I was 50 plus years ago.  I won't say wasted years because they were some great years with some great people doing some great things.  They are in essence bricks in the road.  A road that has a destination but I am not sure what that will be.  Am I close to the end?  Or will this road lead to bigger and better things.  Things like friends.  Like a love to share my life with who wants to be with me.  Like a new career.  Like being someone who is known for standing up for trans-rights.  I hope for travel and knowledge.  I hope to look at the world through "new eyes"  and see the wonder of a great country and world

So all I can say is "follow the red brick road".  You are welcome to come along.  Let's see where it leads.