12 months of being Melanie

Hi Folks

It has been 12 whole months since I officially came out as Melanie, since my deed poll letter arrived and since my mother said some horrible transphobic words on my birthday. We have barely spoken since.

I have been building my life back up, this time as Female, how I should have been right from the start. A year can seem a long time and an eye-blink all at once.

I have made so many wonderful friends in this time, really feel like part of “the family” at my well-being cafe and church. Colleagues that had known me 20 years in my old male life accept me as Melanie without question (I had been a bit worried about that). All this easily outweighs the few people who have left my life because they “couldn’t cope” with my new life. I don’t need them!

I am embracing all that my new life has to offer; feeling new emotions, being able to cry, let bad feelings out, having girly chats, being complented on my outfits by strangers, feeling my growing hair streaming out behind me, my boobies inside my bra, pulling up my stockings and attaching my suspender (garter) clips. It all feels amazing.

Yesterday, I found that my usually domineering mother is now a shell of her former self, she hid away when I went to visit. My dad was ok and always has been about my transitioning and we had a good chat. He’s helping me get my car fixed (new tyres, brake pads etc).

Mum didn’t want to see me dressed how I normally am, in skirt, blouse and stockings. I think she’s still grieving for having “lost her son”. The truth being she never really had a son in the first place, it was just that I felt forced into accepting the role I never wanted. I’ve been drifting away from her since 1977 and we’re a long way apart now. It doesn’t upset me,  I am happier without her negativity in my life, no more judgement, her telling me I’m “an embarrassment” or making a big fuss (“ruining everyone’s evening”) because I gave an involuntary gasp of pain when I stood up too quickly after an hour in a cramped seat. No more of being told I cannot attend family get-togethers, or them being planned behind my back.

I have another family now, one where I feel loved and cherished as much for who I AM as for what I DO. Sometimes you have to be a human Being as opposed to a human Doing.

I still get stressed at times, I get street harassment but I can hold my head up knowing that I’m more of a woman than the cat-callers will ever be a “man”.

Would I ever return to my old male life?

Never in a Million Years!