The Finish Line

Everything has its time.  Unless its perpetual motion, with any process there is usually a beginning and an end.  You have a goal and you set off on a journey.  Fueled by a desire and a need that burns brighter than the midday sun, you do all the little things (and the big things) necessary to bring you closer to that goal.  The road behind you becomes longer than the road ahead.  Then one day you look up and notice that you are there.  In my transition from male to female, I have reached the Finish Line.

A couple of weeks after arriving home from my surgical adventure to Montreal, I received a letter from Dr. Pierre Brassard certifying that the surgery he performed had changed my anatomical sex from male to female.  The letter also stated that "Any designation on her birth record and all official documents as male are incorrect." 
          

The question was raised by one of the mother's at the recovery center, "After you have this surgery, are you still transgender?"  Well yes, it's just a medical fact that we will always be this way.  It will always be a part of you but, in my opinion, it doesn't have to be you.  It doesn't have to be as all consuming as it is during transition or as worrisome as it was before transition. 

This is one of the things I am dealing with now, how to transition away from transition?  Does this mean that the journey ends?  Of course not.  Does this mean that the transition has reached an endpoint?  Of course it does.  At least that's the way I look at it.

In my case, I've only been on hormones for three years.  Hormonal changes can take place over 5-10 or more years, so I do have more change to look forward there.  I don't plan on having any more surgeries as part of my transition. 

For me there was only one male to female surgery.  Sure, I may get breast implants at some point even though I don't have to.  If I ever have anything done to my face or body (and I haven't had any work done yet) it will likely be more to stave off the process of aging than for feminization.  Anything else I may have done will be typical of what other middle aged women might get, not as part of a transgender transition.

Some of this is just how you look at it, but perceptions do often change at this point in the journey.  It's a tough mental transition as you ask yourself, "Where do I go from here?" 

The truth is I Never wanted to be transgender.  I fought it as long as I could, then went through the transition.  Now, I'd like to put that label and all that goes with it in a drawer and lock it away in my deepest memories.  Like the haunting images of being in war.  It's just not that easy to lock such a huge part of your heart, soul and experience away.
      

So, now I have my birth certificate.  In the eyes of the state I am me.  All previous records have been sealed.  Having climbed my own Mt. Everest I guess I've reached that peaceful meadow on the other side.  I made it here quicker than I ever expected, but yet it took forever to get here. 

The morbid pain of the majority of my life flashes across the back side of my brain.  I stand on the wet ground watching the black clouds move away across the plain.  Yet I still hear thunder.  Is it growing closer?  Are more storms on the way?  As the journey continues, we will have to wait and see.

At the end of the rainbow, what I found in the pot of gold was sort of surprising.  It was simply being myself.