A MTF Transsexual Transition Journey (A 12 month series)

A MTF Transsexual Transition Journey

by Sara Lopez October 1st, 2021

PART 3 OF 12

Hi!

It is me, Sara Again. 

In high school, I made a couple of good friends, 

they also liked music and rock and had the same need for English than I had back then, so we supported one another like the 3 musketeers "all for one, and one for all", so we started a band, the name?

I have it reserved for my next band, but I can tell you this, it was named after the street in which our recording and rehearsals studio was located at.

I remember, we used to love to play soda stereo, and Gustavo Cerati, Nirvana, Guns `n Roses, the doors, jimmy Hendrix, all these `80s rock classics, we call them, "Clasicos americanos" in my language.

Me with my microphone, and my guitar, selecting the correct effects for the next song, tuning the guitar to perfection, and, is like jumping off a cliff with one of these flying suits, its terrifying at first, but once you jumped, adrenaline kicks in and masterpieces are created standing in front of the bass guitar player, and the drumkit with its respective player too, the tape recording, playing and singing while recording, it gives me goosebumps just thinking of it.

Music and English kept me alive, while, inside I was still struggling with all this confusion. The funny thing here is, I kept admiring and liking girls, but strangely, cause, still today, and obviously more back then, I compare myself a lot, to "xx chromosomes" girls, but at the same time I was jealous, cause I wanted to look like them.

-No no, this can`t be, I was born with XY chromosomes, what is this thing I`m feeling? I needed answers soon, cause I was a ticking bomb, ready to explode.  After a while, I began shaving my legs, I hated it if I didn't do it, another day I pierced my ears and begun wearing earrings, and it wasn't long till I began saving my lunch money to get girl's clothing that I was convinced were the correct outfits for me.

It was funny, cause when I had to use the catholic school uniform for boys, I used to feel like I was wearing a costume, on a daily basis, and the shoes... those looked like transformers, I hated those. it was easy finding me crying while having breakfast cause I hated my looks, my short hair, and the fact that I HAD to wear the male's uniform.

Back then, I liked a girl from my school, she was one grade higher than me, I`ve heard some people say " youngsters don't know what love is......if anyone wants to know my opinion, is, when you are young and innocent, love was pure, back then, at that age in my life, I loved fully and without boundaries, is now at the adult life, that love begins to have its weirdness...

Her name... what if we call her L. for this matter, she was close to music, matter fact I used to sing with her at the school`s band, her eyes, her face, her spirit, she was 15 I was 14 back then, we used to spend so much time together, she became my whole world. plus I liked her uniform, I wanted one for myself, that was funny. but back then no one knew a word of what I was feeling. I used to feel guilty for having those feelings trapped in my cracked glass heart.

"L" and I were very in love, or at least we were for a while. I remember her giving me a NAUTICA perfume for my birthday, the blue one, and its bottle looks like a veal from a sailboat.  it's curious how just a smell can transport you in time so easily...  as I was so feminine, say: my loos, my lack of muscles, my opinions, my behavior was so fem, I guess she lacked a man...

Stay tuned to follow this story monthly-updated

Motivational phrase of this blog:

#IT GETS BETTER WITH TIME!!!

#THE PAIN AND SUFFERING PASSES!!!

#DON'T GIVE UP HOPE!!!

 

I will keep sharing my personal transitioning story.

Love: Sara V.

 

 

PART 2 OF 12

 Hi!

It is me, Sara Again. 

 In the last blog, I was talking to you about my strange feelings,  feelings I thought were only mine. I thought I was alone in the situation.

 

I remember, when I was in High School, I was always thinking a lot., I remember my grades, those were awful, I wasn´t very popular at all, I was very depressed, I didn´t find a reason to live for, a simple reason to wake up early for.

Except I had hope...

...Hope

 Deep inside I loved life, except I needed "A NEW SUIT" one that fits me better and I didn't know it yet. but, I believe it's true what they say out there: "The world... keeps spinning, who knows what's around the corner." And you know what?  I wanted to live to see it, I knew deep inside me there was something more out there for me, or at least I wanted to believe so.

So after all my parents spotted on me, no wonder they got me into treatment, which was no more and less than the school counselor... I didn't mention a word to him nor her.

Ok now, first of all, we them school counselors changed randomly, and without notice, so a trust bond was never able to get build, but also I mean, they were always like, how do you feel today?, and all that stuff seemed read out from a checklist, I was like I know you don´t care at all.

I felt like, wtf is he or she gonna do about it? are they gonna try curing me from being different?  or are you gonna get me a new medicine to keep me happy?  I thought it was a great loss of time explaining myself over and over to some rando, knowing no one would nor could do anything about it because not even " I " knew what was I suffering...

I remember being called to the school's psychiatrist over the school´s loudspeakers, ( 2.500 students listening ) (Yeah, thanks school, it helped a lot!) ...... I'm being ironic if I didn't make my point lol.  They came in, said my name and grade, and asked me to go to the psychiatric treatment Dr's office, it was very embarrassing, although, kinda cool being the black sheep in school I guess!

I only used to find peace at music class... Even at breaks, you'd find me at the music room.  I began using a guitar, and I loved it, wasn't long till I learned bass guitar and drum kits, and also piano, so I used to refugee within myself and in the songs I wrote or played, I used to write so much my hands hurt. 

 The funny thing was I was paying attention to class but, at the same time, I was writing regardless, about anything else,I wasn´t thinking much, just, automatic-writing, like a printer, I guess.  And it used to end up in very deep songs, that I never got professionally recorded, but some of them I still remember and I keep some copies of when my band used to play, on TAPES lol... Music became my disconnection, my relief, my UNPLUGGING!

 Actually music is what got me into English in the first place.  I was born in a Spanish-speaking country and I loved music, one thing lead to another and American music got me into English. I fell in love with that mix, English-music!  At least I had something to lay onto when I was feeling so blue...

 

Stay tuned to follow this story monthly-updated

Motivational phrase of this blog:

#IT GETS BETTER WITH TIME!!!

#THE PAIN AND SUFFERING PASSES!!!

#DON'T GIVE UP HOPE!!!

 I will keep sharing my personal transitioning story.

Love: Sara V.

 

 

 

 

PART 1 OF 12

Hello!

My Name Is Sara.

I'm a 38-year-old Transexual Female.

I was born a girl in my mind, Only my body said the opposite.  My life began in Colombia; my parents had a beautiful "boy", but they were about to find out I was no such thing. 

I have a big family, fortunately, and when I was around 5 to 6 years old, my first memories were about meeting my cousin Catalina.  On a big coffee farm, my family has in Armenia my cousin and I were playing around in the swimming pool, with our respective innocence, when all of a sudden I started noticing I was treated differently by my relatives than she was.

She had this big pink-painted room in her house, a big Barbie house, and as many Barbie dolls as I ever saw, She had her long hair, her delicate face, and princess manners and a full-body swimsuit, while I had my hair short, my chest exposed, and being treated without delicacy, I felt like I was being frauded by life.  Of course, I immediately became best friends with her, I wanted to play around all day with her and her Barbie dolls and we shared as much time together as we could.  Only my relatives, especially my parents, started getting concerned about that.

 After meeting her and figuring out the gender differences, I began feeling uncomfortable with myself, with the clothing my parents wanted me to wear, I cried for days when my parents cut my hair short as a boy.

 I needed to be myself.

So when I was around 7 to 9 years old I remember I started to copy my mom's manners.  I used to use a razor on my legs just like my mom did, even when I didn't have any hair on my skin, I stared at her when she was getting ready to go to work, looking at how to do makeup and how to apply it on, only to make a mess with her makeup after she left.

back in the '80s, the word trans was a total taboo, I never heard of it until I was around 18-years-old.  therefore my parents tried to "fix me" hitting me and hurting me, I didn´t understand why I had to be what they wanted, instead of letting me be myself.  So I began protecting myself against hits.  One day I decided that if I wanted to stop the rage against me, I should start pretending to be a boy.  

What a big fat FAIL!

I couldn´t stand living a lie, I cried every morning while wearing my catholic-school boy uniform, I hated it and I prayed every night to wake up as a girl the next morning or at least in another life.  I used to admire girls at school and spend a lot of time with chicks back then, to the point where bullying started.  Boys made fun of me for being delicate, for trying to let my hair grow out, for not liking soccer as all the boys did, and for always being among girls; But girls always came to my rescue, it was difficult at first cause I was small and I had no way to protect myself, but then... I grew up.

I got to 6 feet of height and all of a sudden I was the one bullying the bullies, I hated to act aggressively; but, I had to fight for respect, and fortunately, I was strong enough to K.O. one of the most despicable bullies of the school, ever since then, no one messed around with me again in school.  But school was not the problem, The problem kept being inside.  I kept on trying to hide it from my family, cause I didn't know what I was suffering, what was my situation or condition, I knew I was not a boy but, my body was.  I didn't even know the words transgender, nor transsexual, nor transitioning, and to add a little bit more confusion to the subject, I liked girls.  I admired them so badly, that I began liking them, but it was fail after fail.

Girls wanted a man, they were attracted to me as a boy (which I hated), but when a relationship started, my partner quickly would notice I was more feminine than her, therefore they used to dump me asap.

I remember one of them. Mariel; She left me saying: "YOU ARE SUCH A GIRL".  It was sad losing her, but, at the same time, I loved being called a girl.  At this time, I was already at flight school, and I was 21-years-old.  Time kept passing by, I kept on pretending to be a boy, days went by, months went by, even years went by until one day I couldn't stand myself anymore...

I needed professional care, but I didn't have it.

Depression ruled my world, and meaningless life got to suffocate me, to the point where I tried to kill myself.  Not once, not twice but many times, only somehow my family always managed to get me to a hospital in time.  So after so much drama, they scheduled an appointment with a psychiatrist for me, they wanted to know why I wanted to die. but I was so scared of telling them that I remained silent.

I kept having a girl's brain and a boy's body, I needed to do something about it, cause I wasn't willing to live as a boy anymore...

Stay tuned to follow this story monthly-updated

Motivational phrase of this blog:

#IT GETS BETTER WITH TIME!!!

#THE PAIN AND SUFFERING PASSES!!!

#DON'T GIVE UP HOPE!!!

I will keep sharing my personal transitioning story.

Love: Sara V.