It’s funny how these things just creep up on you and suddenly epiphany you out of your chair.  Transitioning isn’t about the inside.  It’s about the outside.

I was born male.  Even though I’m a computer programmer by day, an arguably “male” dominated career (and no, I don’t want to argue it) it doesn’t really make me happy.  I just happened to more or less accidentally become a programmer.  If I could, I’d be a fiction author.  Maybe even a Reiki healer or massage therapist.  Or … who knows.  I love to cook.  I love to be creative.  I love to help people.  I’m sensitive.  I’m caring.  And in general it’s gotten me taken advantage of a lot.  But I wouldn’t change a thing, because people need help, and at least so far I’m still smiling.  (Well, mostly.  All of life is a pendulum.  We have our off days.)  Point is, there is a lot of my personality that is feminine.  And if I could, if the universe aligned, I’d transition in a heartbeat.

My wife always wears pants.  And typically unflattering tops.  And shoes without heels.  She almost never wears stockings, hose, or anything the like.  If it weren’t for her sock collection, I’d think she had no girlie bone in her body.  She’s the manager of her store.  She’s good at being in charge and solving problems.  Before she moved here to be the manager of her store, she used to help a friend work on his race car.  She was especially good at beating panels back into the shape they were before car met wall or other car.  She leaves messes all over the house.  She theoretically can cook, but for some reason only uses the following four spices: salt, pepper, onion powder, and garlic powder.  Sometimes I have to question her pallet.  (It should be open to more.)  She’s far more masculine than feminine.  And yet she wouldn’t transition if her life depended on it.  She has no interest whatsoever in being a man.

Transition isn’t about who we are on the inside.  I know several “mannish” women who are completely happy being women.  Only one of whom is even lesbian.  I know several “effeminate” men who are completely happy being men.  And not all of them are gay either.  Just because their outsides don’t match their insides doesn’t mean they want to change that.  They’re comfortable with being who they are, inside and out.  They make it work.  They have no interest in transition.

Where as I do.

And as much as I can put it on being that my personality is more feminine, that’s really not why.

The reason that I want to transition is because, basically, I hate my body.  Well, okay, I don’t really hate it.  I’m a realist.  If I have to, I work with what I have.  And there are some things that I enjoy about it.  For example, even though I’d prefer not to have chest hair, I do enjoy it when my wife plays with it.  For example, even though there are times I could swear I had a vagina, I really don’t.  But that doesn’t stop me from enjoying having sex with my penis.  I use what I have.  I find joy in it.

But I also know, without a doubt, that I’d find more joy in being a woman.  I’d find myself more attractive.  I’d enjoy being touched more.  I’d enjoy sex more.  I’d be more comfortable with myself.  I’d love exploring a whole new world of wardrobe without the guilt.  All because my image of myself would finally match who I am on the outside.

Transition is about the outside.  GRS, a “sex change”, is about making your outside match who you know you are.  And about the simple comfort of finally living free.  There’s a lot of energy that you put into wearing a costume every day, into being someone that you’re not.  The chance to really, finally, just be yourself … well, it’s liberating.  It’s life changing.

At least so I hope.  And hopefully, one day, I’ll know.

But the point is, it’s not about who you are on the inside.  It’s about being unhappy with who you are on the outside.  We have plenty of men and women in the world who are comfortable in their gender even if their personality is far more on the opposite side of the spectrum.  And society is growing to be pretty accepting of that, without or with this affecting their sexual preference.

Transition is about our bodies, not our hearts.

It makes it no less right or wrong.  People are born in the wrong bodies every day.  Not even just male or female.  How many plastic surgeons do lyposuction to make fat people thinner because their genes are against them and diet and excersize never worked like it should?  How many women are practically addicted to anti-aging this, that, and the other thing because their skin dared to wrinkle early?  How many men are slathering Rogain on their head or sporting a rug because their hair left them before it should have?  How many of us today walk around with glasses and/or contacts because our eyes rebelled?  Transition is about fighting bad or wrong genes.  No more, no less.  It’s a medical solution to a medical problem.  And the only reason that it isn’t treated as such is because there is no medical test for sex-determination chromisomes going awry.  We can test eyes for wrongness.  We can’t test gender for wrongness.

So we pretend it’s not a medical problem, but a psychological problem.  Because the brain is a black box.  We don’t have to understand why something is or isn’t if it deals with the psychological.  It’s a magic bin where we can throw in anything that we don’t understand, or don’t want to understand.

But gender identity disorder is not a psychological problem.  If it were just about coping with our feminine or masculine psychology, we could easily do that in our present gender.  People do it all the time, and are happy being their gender in spite of their mis-matched personality.  It is not a psychological problem.  It’s a genetic problem, without a physical means to test.  It’s all about the body.  Not about the spirit or the mind.

And the sooner we can help people understand this, the more we can help people.

So by now you’re probably thinking that I’m some nutjob fruitcake.  And maybe to an extent some of that is true.

Believe it or not though, I’m heterosexual.

Yes, you read that right.  I’m straight.

And yes, straight for a man.

I like women.

I really like women.

As I said earlier, I’m a realist.  I have a penis.  I don’t have a vulva.  Insert Tab A into Slot B works for me.

I also have a very tight anus.  Some play back there is fun, but unless you’re the world’s least-endowed man, you’re not getting in.  Physically it just won’t happen.  Or at least, to me, isn’t worth trying.

So, because of hardware limitations, there really isn’t much of an option for me to be anything but straight.

Not that I haven’t experimented a little.  Not much, mind you.  But a little.  I may not be gay.  I may not even be bi.  But at least I’m not a prude or a phobic.  Fun is fun after all.

Still, that isn’t the only reason.  Women are far more aestheticly pleasing.  Sex with them (typically) doesn’t involve pain.  Smooth skin and round curves are just so much more appealing to me.  And I’m just plain attracted to women more than men.

I’m betting some of that is psychological.  And some of it is practicality.  Were I to have surgery, my preferences there might change to match my hardware.  But I have the distinct feeling that even if I suddenly woke up as the woman I so often feel I am inside, I’d be bisexual.  I don’t think I’d give up on women if I became one.  I just don’t see it.  If anything, it’d probably make some things more fun.  But then some things with men would suddenly be a lot more fun were I a woman.  Hence why I’d be bi.

And, beleive it or not, just because on occasion I dress up at home, it doesn’t mean I’m wearing panties 24/7.  In fact it’s more often the other way around.  Dressing up in women’s clothing is a coping thing for me.  It’s like taking an Aspirin.  You don’t do it constantly.  You only do it when you need it.  I’m not constantly in drag.  I only occasionally crossdress.  And for the most part my sexual preferences fall in line to that.  If I could cross-skin as easily, then it’d be different.  And the world would be an infinitely better place.  But things are what they are.

So yes, most of the time, I am dressed as any ordinary male.  Sometimes I’d like to think perhaps even a bit more stylish than most, as men, in general, tend to be slobs.

I hope that helps the broader picture.  I’m a realist.  On the outside, I’m a man.  So I dress and play the part, most of the time.  Mostly out of necessity, but also convenience.  That’s just … life.