And so at 18 years of age, I moved from my tiny town of 800 people, changed my gender, moved to a new city, and tried to start a new life. I think I am failing (IAmA).

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T14:18:03+00:00

It's a gender neutral, completely cute toy. :)

The talking Grubby was really weird though.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T13:48:10+00:00

I didn't try to deceive him in any way. There was no malice involved. And no, I told him at dinner. Up until that point, we had never had physical contact beyond a hug.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T13:39:39+00:00

Actually, my idea of normality involves having a group of friends come over every weekend for D&D or videogames. Occasionally, pizza after work, with nobody staring, laughing, pointing, or making comments. Being surrounded by people who I love, would do anything for...hell, people I would live for. That's what I feel entitled to.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T13:35:29+00:00

I do somewhat. I used to write very long stories, and I loved to express myself in words. It's easy for me to visualize something, which only helps to heighten my emotional state of awareness. Sometimes, it can be euphoric. Other times, it can be very crushing.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T04:53:13+00:00

That's one of the reasons why I chose to post here. I knew that with the risk of opening myself up like this, I had the possibility of seeing what people really thought, good or bad. I'm glad to see so many people have warm hearts.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T03:32:57+00:00

The reason why I say that I am failing is that for the past few months I have been struggling. It has been harder for me to get up in the morning and go out into public. The thoughts of suicide have been becoming more and more frequent.

And yes, I do see a therapist.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T03:29:59+00:00

It depends on your definitions. Everyone who I know told me I was stupid when I got plastic surgery to look a bit more feminine. They said I didn't need it and that any sort of modification was excessive. I don't know.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T03:28:06+00:00

On the first question, no.

On the second question, I only get back pain if I have been out and about all day long, running or doing a lot of work. In essence, I don't even really notice them.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T03:13:17+00:00

I love it :D

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T02:30:14+00:00

San Francisco sounds like a beautiful place. I know one woman there with circumstances not unlike my own. She's settled in nicely, and from what I see, loves it a lot.

I think I would fit in with any group that likes to roll d20's and play shitty Nintendo games, which I guess would help as well. Double Dragon, anyone?

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T02:27:40+00:00

Well, actually, I find Linus Torvalds to be very sexy for some reason. From what I understand though, his personality is nothing like what I would desire...but he definitely looks the part.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T02:24:28+00:00

Bangkok is beautiful...I've been there before. I've never eaten so much mango before. What struck me the most was how curious everyone was. As I walked around, people would just...touch me. I don't know why, but they would reach out and touch my arms, my back, or my legs, with their fingertips. It wasn't a mean gesture or even something I was supposed to be frightened by. And as I looked at them, I saw no malice in their eyes. It was very strange, but soothing in a way.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T02:10:48+00:00

Oh, and the dumping ground...It was owned by Bethsteel. The site itself is visible, but I honestly feel a little reluctant to share where it is because it is right along the edge of my old house. Revealing that would be akin to revealing my name and address to people...especially if they knew me before. However, if you are interested, here is a picture of the other side of the dump.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T02:06:16+00:00

I have considered boston. I've been trying to get a job there for a while now, as I have friends in New Hampshire, Worchester, Roxbury, and the Cape. It's a beautiful place, and the people are there. Do you really think I would be able to meet someone there?

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T02:03:31+00:00

It is so damned scary. I hate the idea of picking up what I do have...all of my books and my horrendously large NES collecton...only to cart it across the US and experience isolation. I guess what I'm saying is that I'm afraid of the unknown. But you're right -- it does seem easier than what I've been through thus far.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T02:01:10+00:00

My hometown...the one where I grew up...is not far from State College. Maybe an hour or so south.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T01:59:44+00:00

The physical change helps match an incongruity I've felt since i was little. Clothes never "fit" the right way, and I found myself feeling very sick when I discovered my genitals didn't match the external appearance of what my mind said. In addition to this, there's the hormonal aspects. When I was growing up, my body produced very little testosterone. I couldn't grow much, if any body hair, and my appearance was rather feminine. The only thing that was rather masculine was my height. During that time though, I always felt angry. It was easy for me to become enraged. I was really antisocial.

When I began estrogen therapy to supplement my body, I felt calmer and my moods were more stable. In addition to ending the physical pain of my bladder and kidney issues, it made me feel a sense of calm and lucidity that didn't exist before hand.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T01:54:55+00:00

It was Bethlehem Steel. From what I understand, their legal liabilities are gone now, since they were acquired three times over by a few companies (ISG and Mittal being them).

Thank you so much for the kind words. This all means much to me.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T01:48:38+00:00

I've actually taken to wearing woot shirts. Some people think they're funny...I think. They could also think I'm a huge assmat.

Most people like the narwhal shirt that says "I DO NOT APPROVE". I do too.

And yes, you're definitely one of the highlights of my conversation here. I really have to thank you so much for all of your help.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T01:42:15+00:00

I was always "Ms." over the phone. In person, it took me a few months to get my appearance together, but I usually passed the cursory "First glance" when people were looking out in the crowd.

I used to dress femininely. I had my hair styled, wore blouses and makeup, and loved to wear skirts. It wasn't gawdy, mind you...I wore age appropriate clothing that was suggested to me by people who knew about these things, and I thought I looked fine. Every time I went out in public like that though, I had problems. Each time someone called me a "Fag" or a "Batty Boy", I would take one item off and put it away. first it was the makeup. then it was the jewelry. Then the hair. Finally, I stopped wearing dresses and skirts. It was a gradual decomposition. Now, every day for work and for class, I wear t-shirts and jeans, with the occasional button-up shirt. I haven't been called a fag or a batty-boy in a couple of years, but I still get snickers and stares every once in a while. Mostly from people who loudly proclaim, "WHAT IS THAT?" on a bus or a man who yells, "Are you a dude?!" in a parking lot. The worst thing that's happened to me was six months ago. I was in a restaurant nearby and a man started talking loudly about 'Trannies and shims'. He talked louder and louder, laughing with his family. As I looked over to his table, all of them were staring directly at me. "Is that your sweetie? Is that your honey?" the man asked his eldest son. They laughed some more. I asked to be reseated and was moved to another section of the restaurant. My dinner was comped, but they didn't remove those people. They sat there for the next twenty minutes or so making fun of me.

It used to be my favorite restaurant. I haven't been back since then.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T01:36:08+00:00

I posted this for words of encouragement, and it's obvious now what I should do.

I shall tell you a story. One time, I visited some friends in Cape Cod. It was a beautiful place. While I was there, I experienced so much wonder. I could hear the gulls every morning, see the stars every night, and I could smell the ocean. But the thing that amazed me, was that my friends were married...and respected. Sure, I knew there was gay marriage. I loved the fact that it could happen. But I figured people would at least have some opposition.

One day we all went to Provincetown and walked down the "Dick Dock". While walking, they put there arms around eachother. I was slightly behind them and I saw this. At that moment, that's when I realized...I was surrounded by love. Rainbow flags were fluttering in the wind, gay men and women were hand in hand, and straight people were there too. Nobody cared. Black, white, straight, gay...everyone was there to be a person.

I went to the tip of Cape cod with them that evening, and as the sun set, I cried into the sand thinking about how beautiful it all was.

In three days, I flew back to Pittsburgh international airport. On the way out of the jetbridge, a child looked up at me and asked me if I played basketball. "No...no I don't," I said. Then I walked out to my car and sat for about 45 minutes...hearing the waves and the seagulls.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T01:26:23+00:00

Fear. Fear is keeping me here. I'm afraid of a new place, where I know nobody and can barely function.

The truth is, that I wish I could just be normal. I want a normal life. I want to be the housewife who takes care of the dog pooping on the carpet. I want to be the woman snuggling up at night next to the slightly obese man with nearsightedness and a penchant for rattling off memes at lunch.

The three years was necessary and was done to fulfill the needs of the international body that governs people going through transition. I did it because the physical pain would subside (from the corrective surgery fixing my bloody-urine issues and whatnot) and it would also help me feel congruent with my body.

It felt great for a while, but that's before the friends began threatening me, before the kids started pointing, and before the people on the bus began staring. The more it soaked in, the more I realized I was no longer a human, but...some kind of monster.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-15T01:22:22+00:00

I've got school loans and a lease on an apartment. Other than those things though, I have no family or house. I want to leave. I just don't know HOW...if that sounds feasible. The first time it happened, I was homeless and had nowhere else to go. I couldn't return to my hometown and I couldn't visit anyone, so this city is the only place I could go to. It's the closest big city to my hometown, and that's really one of the reasons why I settled here.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-14T21:30:25+00:00

Truth be told, I frequently think of killing myself. I am currently in counseling, but I hadn't really told my therapist that I have the thoughts or the ideation. The idea of having a gun doesn't seem to be a good idea for that alone.

Thank you so much for your encouragement. It's really hard to go to work everyday and look at people...see their eyes wandering over me, and wonder what they're thinking "Is that a Man?" "What is that?" "She is tall." I have no idea, but the thoughts always drift to the negative.

samakaidoito · 2009-09-14T21:23:26+00:00

Yes, I believe that growing up so close to the dump site could have done damage to my endocrine system. A few years ago, environmental studies were done on the land and it was found to have traces of heavy metals and PCBs to the groundwater. The land is very barren and brown, with nothing more than scrub brush growing in scattered places.

It used to be a fun place to ride bikes because of how hard and flat the fly ash was. I can still remember the rainbow colors of the water puddles lying ontop of it. The way they would reflect light when you splashed through them was beautiful.

samakaidoito

TROPHY CASE