Miriya's story – The Shackles of Love

[Anonymous]

 

 

Hello everyone, I actually wrote this as a letter to a friend of mine, but decided to clean it up and post to the forums. Not sure if it will help any one other then me to read my long winded story, but here it is.

 

 

 

Guess back at the beginning, long long ago in a neighborhood far far away…. 😜 I was a D&D geek. But before that I have the typical fond memories of growing up in the suburbs. For whatever reason (I know now why) I liked my hair long kind of like a short 70’s shag, even got it cut into a cute bob when my parents let me choose at the hair cuttery at the age of eight, I was corrected of course. 😔. I also liked fluffy butt paints and thought they looked great, I tried to model my gym look from the girls who wore shorts over sweat paints, makes your butt look bigger😉. When four or younger I remember giving my self bubble boobies in the tub and trying to look like mommy. However I had no clue till early High School something was up and even then no term for it. I was small for my age and lots of people when growing up miss gendered me and called me miss/girl etc, even had an elementary teacher tell me that I was going to the wrong bath room the girls room is over there, I liked that. I played pretend and barbies with my sister, never did a fashion thing with her but she was not into that kind of stuff so I am not surprised. As for D&D my favorite characters were/are Female but I always tried to say I am just having a balance of characters. Once in High School after I had my eyes dilated at the mall eye doctor (I was blind as a bat btw) my mom took me shopping. We ended up in front of some store (Forever 21 or the like, I could not read the sign) and my mom said let’s try some stuff on. As soon as we got close she was handing me a silk blouse with shoulder pads. I knew it was a girl shirt and told her so. Now I look back I am sure my mom knew my inner self and if I had said at the time “mom I want to be a girl”, my life would have been sooo different. My dad was/is a George McFly type but very homophobic, so not sure how that would have played out and my mom wore the pants in the family as the saying goes. I did however start the habit of sneaking my mom’s and sister’s things, makeup and clothing, and watching my tini bopper sitcoms that were popular of the time in my parents bedroom. I think this crazy habit started around seven but am not sure, my mom even had an awesome Sandra wig from Grease.  My dad caught me in pantyhose under my paints once but was nice enough not to blow up, I am sure he and my mom talked later. My mom had one of those waist giggle machines and I spent a lot of time trying to widdle my waist down.

 

The summer between high school and middle school I had one of those life altering events. I took my friends bicycle and road it like a surfer through a cement drainage ditch that was shaped like a big half pipe. Needless to say it ended in disaster, to everyone’s surprise I only sprained my wrist but I hit my coconut enough to cause temporary amnesia, for a few hours or so. However from that point on I disassociated with all my early childhood friends and and became a super introvert. I had people show up year’s later in life and tell me they hung out with me when we were kids and I have no clue who they are. I also started the habit of laying in bed at night for hours and starring into the darkness either asking questions of who am I, or I was imagining stories where I was being turned into a girl 👩 one way or the other. With all this inner viewing I sure was a dumb, it never dawned on me I was a girl on the inside or maybe I was in self denial as I saw too much Jerry Springer as a kid. This odd habit of inner self followed me through High School and Collage, and finally ended in my late 20’s when I figured it why I was doing it and altered my brains inner workings to correct the issue. (How I did that is a book in it self, so let us leave it for now).

 

Around the time just before the end of middle school, I was at the movies, The Perfect Weapon, with my older brother and we met my 1st martial arts instructor. This also dominated my life, I was naturally flexible have done gymnastics in elementary school, very fast could run the quarter mile in 5 seconds, and had excellent hand eye coronation having grown up playing Atari video games, needless to say I was good at martial arts and took to it like water. Besides those gi paints make your butt look bigger. 😊 Me and my instructor were opposites as far as stature go, I was a petite little kid 👧 and he was a tall muscular African American guy who beat the South Korean national campion when he was over there. He could kick you in the back of the head while standing 4 feet in front of you. In martial arts I was always drawn to the esoteric side of things and watched and tried to do things from every martial arts movie I could lay my hands on. My mom, God bless her soul, saw I was interested in martial arts and having no clue went to the MA supplie store and bought me a book. Little did she know she bought a book on how to practice martial arts Qigong written by a crazed collage professor know as Dr Death by his students. I practiced some really wild stuff on my own, aura seeing, stealth, communing with spirits, etc. As for girl stuff in martial arts, the only things were that I always like and wanted to be like the females in the movies who kicked butt and I sometimes smelled of scented oils in class as I had started taking baths with my moms flowered oil pellets.

 

Collage was collage, went for aerospace engineering but ended up with aviation business with a bunch of minors. Actually took a 10 year break in there so I could run one of those infamous “Net Work Marketing” companies. However me and a good friend (male) did some dressing and this is when I bought my first shoes and clothes of my own. I had of course been sneaking my moms and sisters stuff for years. You know I still had never had a girlfriend even though collage, I was either too shy or scared. I did and still do like girls and they have haunted many of my earlier night time story creating hours.

 

The years in between my college were kind of lost years. I did a ton of exploring my feminine self, but drifted in other areas of life. Never had any real job, and I tried my damdness to make the network thing work for the 1st few years. I Moved from Florida where I was going to school and went to Maryland and stayed with my parents then to West Virginia to live in a hostel with other network loons like my self. Eventually I was busted and broke, had nothing but a jar of honey and a bag of pop corn to eat for the last week before a gave up. I had borrowed enough for one tank of gas just enough to get back home. My mom took me in of course and I got a crappy job working at 7-11 and finally at Nicks of Clinton, they have a great pork bbq sub btw. 😉 This year or so I found and joined the TGEA group in DC. I have a whole 1st story I wrote years ago, maybe bore you some more with it later. Any way I met many friends and was accepted with open arms. Me and my new found friends went everywhere, bars, clubs, restaurants, stores, malls, salons, etc. Needless to say and I hope I do not sound self conceded I was one of the better at passing, also I was younger then most of the girls so I am sure this helped. They kept lumping me in with the TS’s when ever I 1st met someone, but my scaredy-cat self kept the I am just a CD going, somehow it was not wrong to just be a CD even though my best friends were MtF’s transsexuals and treated me like a little sister or daughter. My mom every once in a while as I was staying at home would comment that I need to change my chapstick as it stains my lips, or that my eyes seemed dark, I love heavy dark eyes and Kole rimming them is hard to remove the liner. I really did try to hide it however just was not skilled. I kept my stuff in the back of the closet and though my mom never said a word I think she knew it was there. Also I had been growing out my hair for a couple of years at this point and it was at my shoulders. You know even to this day I have yet to figure out hair styling never can seem to get it right. And my mom was a beauty school grad, as if right.

 

Soon I had a decent job programing aircraft carriers radar systems that my dad had set up for me. However my crazy bug hit again and I moved to Illinois for a year to collect some college friends so we could move back to Florida to open some Apartments. After about 2 years in Florida every banker thought we were crazy as we did not have any down payment. Hell ideas put man in the moon how come ours did not inspire an apartment complex or two. When my last friend moved to Alaska to help his brother, I went back home in Maryland to my dads dismay. On the way I stopped for 3 months to live as a hermit in the mountains of West Virginia where I had purchased a 1/2 of a mountain, Bug Ridge, and it had plenty of bugs too. You know I remember dressing up even there, and I only had a tent and primitive camp site, 5” heels are so much fun in the woods. 😜 The mountain had put a new thought in my head, however. I did not want to be alone, I wanted a family and kids I really wanted to be a mom but would have to settle as a parent. That is why I came down off my mountain and went to Maryland again. I spent a year or so here but I got my own place after a few months, my dad was happy. I worked at a sail loft sewing sails and stuff. Wore shorts and sandals all day, my hair was back length now and blew in the sunny breeze. And I revisited my old TGEA haunts. Life was grand, I was offered a job and a place to stay in DC with a nice cis lady who wanted to help me to transition, even though I was still towing the CD line, she could see much more clearly then I. I of course was too scared to take the offer but once again if I had life would have been sooo different.

 

Any who, I came down off my mountain and went back home. Soon after I got home I decided, because I wanted to use the whole world as my play grounds for finding a girl to marry, 😉 I would put my name and a small ad in one of those world date magazines, and mail out a few letters, a 100 I think. At least that was my reasoning, deep down I was just scared to go to bars and stuff and pick up a girl, crap when I went out to bars I normally was the girl and guys tried to pick me up. 🍸 Soon after I did this step and paid a big fee to the company, $500 was the buy in. Love letters started to flood in, and I mean flood, I had at least 20-30 a week for over a year, girls from all over the world who wanted my blue passport wrote, and I was not an old fart to boot, I felt good. I even had a young gay guy from Brazil who was a beautician send me a nice letter, and I really did think about it. I sorted the girls out by looks and letter type, basically if the letter was shallow or not or the photo was cute or not. I feel really bad now and back then that I could not send a reply to them all as I am sure lots of the girls who could not write well or just had a badly taken photo got chucked but were really smart nice girls. 😔 I still played pen pal with a dozen or so and that took a lot of time, I like to write as you can read, and I spend about an hour to write any reply, plus a day or two thinking on it. After a few months of this somehow in my mailings and what not I had miscalculated and only sent out 98 of my 100 letters from my original. The company had sent me a new book and let me know I had two more addresses to get. Only two, I had to choose super carefully, I boiled it down and picked one I do not remember any more and one who loved camping, baking cakes, and still believed in love, plus she was cute, her only draw back was that she was 5’7” and I wanted a girl who was shorter then me not taller. I know my insane sorting was wacked. 🙃

 

I wrote any way, and found out she had a very beautiful mind as well as photo. We wrote books back and forth, letters were never under two pages long and a few got upwards to ten, we discussed tons of philosophy, hopes, dreams, and our hands hurt from the writing. This back and forth lasted about a year maybe a year and a half. Never once did I mention my girl side as I figured this was for a face to face thing and not a letter one. I actually still have the original ad around here somewhere, but unfortunately the letters got deleted when my dad’s computer crashed and lost them all. After a few months of mailing, we had speed up the mail delivery process by using the radical new email technology. 😄 To my mom’s dismay I decided to fly to the other side of the world and meet this girl for a 3 week adventure. She was in Russia and my mom had just watched the wonderful 😉 20/20 show where all Russian Brides were out to steal your money and there was no way she wanted her little baby to get hurt. Good thing I never told her terrorists blew up the train station in the town I was heading too 1 week prior to my flight. Needless to say we fell in love even more and person during my 3 week trip. She was going to college in the town of 5 mountains known for its famous poets and flowers. Very beautiful place and if you ever get the chance visit, but it has changed some since my original visit, it got more busy and not as cutesy as it once was. And guess what her aunt had placed the ad in the magazine for her and had lied about her height as to make her look more attractive, guys of the time liked the 90’s super models who were all tall, in reality she was an inch shorter then me. 😄 Our time spent in this original visit was like a dream I have a handwritten notebook about it, but my feeble attempt to describe my thoughts and feelings pales to the reality and memory. Near the end of my visit I told her about my CD self. She was slightly confused as to what it meant but loved me so much that it did not matter.

 

After I went home I was glowing like a pregnant woman, strangers would come up to me and comment how happy I was. We wrote more letters for another year or so after the visit, while she was finishing up college. Then I sponsored her visa, got her a job at a restaurant that I helped the owner to start, and she came to visit me for a summer. My mom recanted every word she ever said about Russians and their girls, and took her in like a daughter, they actually had a ton in common. And as I am sure you guessed at the end of her trip we got married and she never went back to finish her 5th year of college. We eventually moved away from small town Maryland for better jobs near Baltimore. A city of dirt and grim, nothing like the smell of Baltimore in the morning. Any way after a few years we had our 1st child of love. 👩‍👩‍👧 and my mom died of cancer. 😢 Me and my wife did not want our kid to go to school in the inner city, so we had a house built after long searching and moved to South Central Pennsylvania. Pennsylvania has Philly & Pitt but between them they have Alabaman country, farms and simple folk for 100’s of miles. When our 1st daughter started school we made our 2nd one. Here is where trouble in Paradise started to happen.

 

We were all happy joy joy. Then in my endless studies I found and read Helen Boyd’s 1st book. I finally got it. I took the simple tests in her book and read every word cover to cover twice. All the pieces fell into place, I was really a girl trapped in a man’s body, holy crap I never wanted to be like those girls on Jerry Springer 💃, but I was. All the years of self denial came into focus and made sense, all those years wanting to be able to look in the mirror and not see a stranger. I ended up crying for a month and a day. If Helen’s 1st book was about her trans husband and how it effects him, her 2nd is about her trans husband and how it effects her, Helen. I gobbled it up, and cried ten times as much from the 2nd book as from the 1st. I could see and feel the pain from my wife’s shoes, as they were mine too. I had my wife read book 1 and she cried too. We talked and talked and came to no solution. If I did transition how would the kids have a dad and normal family? She was not gay and would leave me, and said so? Even if we would still remain friends, she said this too. The world would look at us as freaks. We love each other so much. I would walk naked into a live volcano for her, and she would go forth and clear land mines for me. There was no way I wanted to hurt her so much and her me. What were we to do. We had a 5 year old and one on the way. With much tears we decided to sweep it under the rug. The topic became a taboo. So much so in a fit of depression I threw Helen’s books into the fire place and we watched them burn to ashes, I am sure Helen is happy because I had to buy them twice now.  Our endless truthful open dialogue we had shared for years ended that day, as there was always and elephant in the room from then on. Many of you know what it is like to be a girl and not be in the right body.

 

My meditation, study and contemplation continues on the subject. But I am plagued never to be me. I made the decision and try to stand by it but that volcano looks like a damn good choice at times over this endless slow destruction of the last eight years, it has been… well down right tough. You have seen my photos (maybe), in guy mode I get read as a girl once in a while because of my size even though I sheared my locks off in a romantic gesture and mailed them to my soon to be wife long ago. Good thing I did not cherish my ear more then my hair. 😉 We tip toe on egg shells at times, sometimes my wife jokes about my girlish nature, even has me help out our daughters and her with their makeup and fashion; treats me as a girl friend when we go shopping. Other times it over loads her and we cry and talk and come to the same sad decision. I can not help myself and have to do the old sneak out to be me once in a while to let loose. I hate it but I hate my self too. Me and the wife tried a couple of times to go out with me as my girl self, it never went well. Bedroom stuff went worse. I feel I have grown some as to my girl self but my wife was left behind. 😔 I miss my wife even though I see her everyday. And I will miss her still if I become me all the way even though we will be friends till the day we die. I understand that pain and toil makes us who we are but there are days I want to scream but have no one to scream too, and the person who I want to hear it most of all, if she hears we can not stand the pain it causes. The sad truth many couples who one of which is transgender, end with tears over love but can never be. I do not want to be part of that statistic, and am doomed to pain either way, so I mine as well try to take my wife’s pain as much as I can. My mom taught me so well to be a tough girl on the inside. 🙆

 

This of course is my current life trial, we all get one or two or too many to count. How will it end who knows, but it has brought me here to you fine people and a few good friends.  I have no doubt in years to come if I survive this chapter, it too can be prettied up times memories.

 

Miriya

 

 

 

 

[Adrianna Baine]

My mom is the same way,did teach me so well to be a tough girl on the inside.Thanks for sharing.

[Danielle Fox]

Oh Miri!

All of us have many similar experiences especially for us who are or were married.  I can feel the pain in your story so much. Only because of the similarities we share from our marriages. There are many differences but those only expose the similar areas more. The toughest decision is the one many have had. Choose between a wife and family or be who you should have been born as. Cisgender people have no clue the decisions transgender people have to make. I am here for you sister. PM me and we can talk. Love ❤️ and hugs 🤗

Danielle💋👠

[Author]

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