tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-75153752890166792352024-03-13T11:22:34.082-06:00Finding CynthiaIf I Find Her...I'll Let You KnowCynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.comBlogger14125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-54247326824059064082012-10-11T14:08:00.000-06:002012-10-11T14:08:16.404-06:00Transsexual, Transgender Dissertation!Hi everyone, I'm still here.<br />
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I just received an email from an Amy Rotherforth. She is asking to interview me as well as other transgender/transsexual people for a research dissertation paper. Has anyone else received this email, and if so, does anyone know anything about her. She sounds legitimate, but it would be nice to hear from someone who actually knows her. She certainly sounds like she could be an ally for our community.<br />
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Here for your reading pleasure is the email that I received, just in case anyone has not received it:<br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Hi, I have found your e-mail on your blog; I hope you don’t mind me getting in contact with you! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> This email is a little long, really sorry about that, I just wanted to make sure everything I can think of is said!</span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">Anyway, a little bit about me, my name is Amy Rotherforth. I’m from Yorkshire in England and studying Psychology with Counselling studies at the University of Huddersfield. I am in my final year and have to complete an 8000 word research dissertation on any topic. My research interest is the transgender and transsexual community and I hope after completing this final year at uni I will work as a psychologist/therapist working with individuals undergoing transition and also the aftercare of patients undergoing sexual reassignment surgery.</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">My interest on this topic comes from people I have met who are transgender, TV programmes, blogs and academic research. I feel that there isn’t enough research and hope that through people speaking about and educating others on trans issues more and more; the discrimination and transphobia which is still out there could be greatly reduced! (In a perfect world, disappear!) I myself am not transgender or transsexual but I consider myself an ally. Throughout my career I hope to make a difference to the lives of people and feel very strongly and passionate about it. I feel that the social barriers and the conflicts which individuals have to go through to live in the gender they chose e.g. coming out, family issues, spouse issues, jobs, ignorant people etc. are all issues which need to be addressed and people’s attitudes need to be challenged. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">To give a bit of information on the research… I have to submit an ethical approval on the 17<sup>th</sup> November to the university so that they can monitor us and make sure we’re doing everything to the book. So I won’t be able to start with the research until early December, I’m just writing now to see if any participants are interested </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> It will be an interview, nothing too personal and won’t be too long! It can be done in anyway you find easiest, skype, phone, instant messenger, email, letter, you choose </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> any questions which you don’t want to answer can be left, you can also change your mind at anytime throughout the whole process and your data will be destroyed. It will all be kept anonymous and you can have full access to the results when its done if you would like </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> The interview questions will be about gender identity, discrimination and your stance on surgery and treatment. The full aims and questions will be put to a focus group who can assist me in deciding if the questions are appropriate and I can give you more detail about all that after the ethics approval when everything will come together (on the 17</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"><sup>th</sup> October)! </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;">If you feel you would like to help me and take part, would you please respond and just let me know, and then in December I can make a start! To make you feel more comfortable I can answer any question you may have, I can also leave my university email which is </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif; font-size: 14px;"><a href="mailto:u0956377@hud.ac.uk" target="_blank"><span style="color: blue; font-family: Calibri; font-size: small;">u0956377@hud.ac.uk</span></a></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> if you would feel more comfortable using that one. Any question you have, or information you would like about me or the project is more than welcome </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span><span style="font-family: Calibri;"> Also, if you don’t feel comfortable in answering questions but could help me by being part of my focus group (helping me before I start, deciding on appropriate questions) then also let me know, any help is much appreciated </span><span style="font-family: Wingdings;"><span>J</span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><span style="font-family: Times New Roman;"> </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: Calibri;">Thanks for reading , hope this all makes sense, hope to hear from you!</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="border-collapse: collapse; color: red; font-family: arial, sans-serif;"><br /></span><div style="border-collapse: collapse;">
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Hope to hear from anyone who has received this email, and what they may or may not know about her, or just your thoughts about the whole matter. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Hugs,</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">Cynthia</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">PS: I have Amy's personal email address also, if anyone would like it. </span><br />
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Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-68925418776254820732012-05-23T12:49:00.000-06:002012-05-23T12:49:59.985-06:00Relationships~Male To Female~Female To Female~My/Our Dilemma<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Heeeeere's Cynthia!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hello everyone,</span><br />
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</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am sorry that it has taken me all this time to get back here with something actually worth saying, but, ever since divulging some of the things I have so far... well... I haven't had all that much to talk about. Actually that's not entirely true~but some things are very hard to talk about. Maybe this really isn't worth writing about~but I'm going to do it anyway~because this is important to me~even if to no one else...<i> except maybe Halle...</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...so <i>Halle</i>, I hope you can find something in here to comment about. I look forward to hearing from you, as I always do.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The past few months have been, to say the least, crazy. Lots of ups and downs. I have made mention of how accepting my wife has been of this whole transgender/transsexual thing I have thrust upon her. Well, it turns out she is both understanding/not understanding. Maybe <i>'understanding/not understanding'</i> isn't the right phrase to use. More like <i>'accepting/not accepting'</i>, or maybe just plain uncomfortable because she doesn't know enough about this to be able to understand what is going on inside of me. I guess that does mean <i>'understanding/not understanding'.</i> duh:)</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have tried to be as honest and up front and provide as much information for her as I can come up with. I think I may need to do a better job on the information part so that she/we can develop a better understanding together of who and what I really am, although... <i>I'M SURE I know WHO and WHAT I am. </i>I've known one thing for sure for almost <i>six decades</i>~regardless of the fact that I didn't know the technical aspects of it... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">and some buried memory... </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">until the last few years... I AM A FEMALE!... albeit, impersonating a male.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now~my wife has been somewhat aware of my predispositions ( although not technically ) as I have for most, if not all of our forty years of marriage, shown a propensity to wear some articles of women's clothing ( undies to be exact ). Still~with her witnessing this behavior of mine~I managed to keep her ( and myself ) in the dark as to just what was really going on in my head ( some hiding of the truth and of course denial ). I had no idea that there was a medical term for what I felt and who I<span id="goog_862016233"></span><span id="goog_862016234"></span><a href="http://www.blogger.com/"></a> believed I was. I just believed I was some kind of weirdo or freak who believed it was much more prudent and necessary to hide my feelings, sans the undies, and simply try to be what was expected of a male in my day. We're all great actors~aren't we? Well... up to a point that is. If you have been reading any of my writing, you might remember, <a href="http://findingcynyhia.blogspot.com/b/post-preview?token=hX8J0jUBAAA.qvTCiK6b4qQbzy_brt8o1A.1FGms2L9FijoPp8KabPgdA&postId=8165200080186737096&type=POST"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">from a prior post</span></a>, that I did a very convincing job of burying my own feelings so deep, that even I forgot some of the things that happened in my past.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now... I told you all of that so that I could tell you all of this... and to get to that part from which the title for this post is derived.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I think where things have become a bit sticky is... my wife says she doesn't know what her role or place is in our relationship now ( sounds pretty reasonable to me ), as she still sees me as a man~her husband. After all, that's the role I've been playing all these years. She has told me that she worries about me wanting to separate and go off and be with a man as that is what women usually want in a relationship. I have tried very hard to erase her fears of my wanting to have anything at all to do with a man. Because I am still physically a male ( haven't transitioned ), my Christian beliefs will in no way allow me to enter into a homosexual relationship with a man. The only way I could ever be with a man would be if I was to transition fully to the woman I know that I am, and then, only if that is what my brain tells me my preference is at that point in time. For the record, my preference up till now, has been, and is, female. A</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">nd I see absolutely nothing changing with said preference in the foreseeable future.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Why? That's just the way it is. I have no further explanation.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also for the record: My wife has expressed that she understands that I could never be happy again if I had to present as a male 100% of the time ( acceptance? I don't know... ). As things are right now, my wife says I can dress <i>quasi female </i>most of the time and every now and then present as male again just for her. I think this is about as good as I am going to get at this time and stage of our marriage as the alternative is not very appealing. Actually, I'm finding this arrangement to be mostly reasonable, as it allows me the opportunity to be my female self... most of the time... rather than the minority of the time... or not at all.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Also, for the record: We still have a fairly physical relationship... that is... we hug and kiss and hold hands all of the time.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But~ here is where the sticky gets even stickier. Here we go...</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...If I believe myself to be a woman~and I do, of that there is no doubt~and I want to stay married to my wife~which I do, and again there is no doubt~am I now engaging in a lesbian ( homosexual ) relationship ( which my wife does not want )? Remember~I have not transitioned~so I do not have any physical female characteristics except for some superficial things like maybe my clothes, a little make-up perhaps, some mannerisms, or my hair, etc. The question now is~am I going against God's Word and my beliefs as a Christian and engaging in a lesbian/homosexual relationship after all? This is the sixty-four thousand dollar question! If anyone has any thoughts on this~please feel free to comment and help me out.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Right now I see myself as a woman who is~in this alien body called male~very much in love with and wanting to stay with my wife. Can this relationship be termed lesbian/homosexual on the basis of what is between my ears, and in my heart and soul? According to my research and my knowledge of the Bible, homosexuality is a sin punishable by stoning... at least in biblical days. Now t</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">his is my/our dilemma.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now~If circumstances~that is, family, money, work, church...<i> oh boy!</i>... excuse me... <i>oh girl!</i>... ( and the list gets longer )~were different~I firmly believe that I would be giving some serious consideration to transitioning. Skip the serious consideration~you know it~I'm sure I'd opt for transitioning! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">But alas~not to be~not at this time.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I would give my eye teeth to be oh so much younger and know what I know now. Wouldn't that be the case with a lot of us?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have also told my wife, very emphatically, that I don't believe I could ever live my life without her by my side. Not after forty years of marriage and a long and strong Christian lifestyle, and of course my undying love for her, which has had its' own way of developing the kind of relationship we have. She is my world and more important to me than my own life. I would not hesitate to give up my life in her stead.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So~where does all of this lead? I wish I knew exactly~as again, this is my/our dilemma.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Halle,</i> I now feel pretty sure I have the answer that I know Is correct for my situation, and mine only ( Biblically speaking ). My belief that the Bible is the inerrant, infallible, everlasting Word of God ( and what I live by ) is making the answer very clear to me, but I certainly can't speak for anyone else. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I wish I could provide more answers on this subject, as I'm sure there are more girls out there with the same or similar questions that need answering. Any of you Bible scholars out there are more than welcome... and I do mean<i><b> welcome.</b></i>.. to comment here about this and anything pertaining to this. Just be sure to give the Bible references for your comments pertaining to what the Bible actually says. I look forward to hearing from all of you and </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">researching those answers!</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hugs to one and all.</span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><br /></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia</span><br />
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</span></div>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com8tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-2135075751067725662012-05-12T09:08:00.001-06:002012-05-12T09:08:56.358-06:00~Happy Mother's Day~<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Hi everyone,</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Yeh, I'm still here.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;">Just wanted to stop for a minute and wish every one of us and our wives (who have children), and our mothers ( if you are still fortunate enough to have yours' still living~mine is not ) a wonderful Mother's Day!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;"> <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;"> </span><b>~Happy Mother's Day!!!~</b></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hugs to all the mothers,</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Cynthia</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit; font-size: x-large;"><br /></span>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-64142928865885102672011-10-31T07:14:00.000-06:002011-10-31T07:14:06.368-06:00"Job, Job, My Kingdom for a Job"!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">PRAISE THE LORD!!!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have finally gotten a job! And after being out of work for only twenty months. The Lord has been so gracious, He has taken care of supplying our every need during this time of unemployment. I think He waited all this time because He was actually making up for all those vacations my wife and I were never able to take all those years past, and grouped them all into one giant vacation. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It was and is the most wonderful feeling to not have to worry about where the money was coming from all these months to pay the bills, when you know that the Lord is in complete control of your every need, and every aspect of your life.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">While this isn't my idea of a dream occupation (what is?), at least I will be able to get off of unemployment and start back to earning my own way again. A girl has to know her own self worth. I thoroughly detested the fact that I was using a government financial aid program. I know it's there to help people in need, but it just never felt right. Something like playing the male role. And all of these different programs are just costing all of us taxpayers a raft of money, and bleeding everyone dry.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to thank everyone who has been praying about my job situation. Believe me when I say, your prayers have meant so much to us. The power of prayer is so awesome. Prayer can move mountains if we only believe and have faith.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">Matthew 17: 20 So Jesus said to them,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: purple;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: red;">"Because of your unbelief; for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you".</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Again, thank you one and all, for your prayers.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hugs,</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia </span>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-64541498425137841192011-10-05T12:57:00.000-06:002011-10-05T12:57:56.367-06:00"The Best Laid Plans of Mice and Men"<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The title says it all. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">At least from where I'm sitting.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I made mention of this in my last posting, so here are some of the details.</span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC TT';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><br />
</span> </span></span></span><br />
<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC TT';"><span style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I had recently decided that I needed to write a letter to my wife. I didn't feel I could adequately explain my thoughts and feelings through speech. I'm just not very good at talking about personal things. Especially this: </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">The secret that has been </span></i></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC TT';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">plaguing me for most of my life.</span></i></span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: 'Bradley Hand ITC TT';"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">But...things didn't go according to plan. You know...'The best laid plans of mice and men.' It was either that one or 'Murphy's Law'.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">The short of it...My wife now knows that I believe I am a woman...female...maybe I should probably just say </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">girl</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">. Haven't had time to mature into a woman yet. Baby steps first. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Now, here's where the plans went astray.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">It all happened after we watched that special on tv about some transgendered and transsexual children. My wife asked me why I wanted to watch this program. I said, rather sheepishly, I was just curious about it. She didn't say anything more at that time and she was real quiet during the show. </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Then, after the show ended, she asked me if that is what I wanted to be, a woman? Gasp! Wasn't expecting that question, but then I can be real naive. I inhaled and held my breath like never before. Somehow, I just couldn't lie and deny this issue any longer. I felt completely powerless to say anything other than the truth.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Something inside of me just kind of snapped and I let those fateful words out. [Deep inhale] I told my wife,</span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">"Not exactly something I </span></i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">want</span></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> to be, but, Yes, I'm a female on the inside. That is what my heart and soul and brain have been telling me </span></i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I am</span></b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> for as long as I can remember".</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> I have been denying this for way too long and just plain skirting the issue. No pun intended. This was completely unplanned and unrehearsed. I honestly believe the Lord compelled me to finally tell the truth. I can't tell you how many years, and how many tears, I have cried up to this point. Honestly...I have been asking my Lord for forgiveness, not for who and what I am, but for lying and concealing the truth about who I really am...for a very, very, long time. I can tell you now, that I will never have to do that, ever again. There's a saying, actually a Bible verse, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;">John 8:32 "And you shall know the truth, and the truth shall make you free." </span></i><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #cc0000;"> </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I can certainly attest to that. Free to experience both happiness and sadness, all at the same time. But at least there aren't any lies or deception anymore. Praise the Lord!</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I mentioned crying in a prior post. Well, I sat there crying my eyes out ( I cry at the drop of a hat anymore ), not because I was ashamed of who I am or anything like that. I'm not </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">ashamed</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> of <i>anything</i>, anymore. It's not my fault. All I felt was a flood of relief that I have never felt before in my life. I felt so...so...forget it...I really can't describe it anyway. My secret...Cynthia...had finally </span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">found her way out. She sure is a crafty gal ( but I already knew that ). Welcome home Cynthia! There was no turning back now. You can't take back what has, after a lifetime of denial, finally come out of your own mouth. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">Well, needless to say, things sort of hit the proverbial fan at this point. I won't tell you that she took this bit of news very well. I mean, here's my wife finding out that she has been married for forty years to a man (oops) who now says he believes he's a woman (female, anyway). How does any person take this kind of news? I don't even know how I would take this kind of news. Now, I'm not sure where this is all going, only the Lord knows the answers to that.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">We have in a small way become closer because we are praying together more than ever and trying to share and understand each other's feelings about all of this. I can see that I've opened up a whole new and different way of life for us that is going to require a great deal of prayer...more than our usual.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I have believed, known, felt, whatever, that I am a female in the wrong body. I have felt this for most of my life, at least off and on. In reality, more off than on. I explained why the [ off ] in a prior <a href="http://findingcynyhia.blogspot.com/2011/09/i-am-too-girl.html"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: blue;">post</span></a>...a lot of denial, and now, too many tears to reiterate here. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">This turn of events has brought with it some extraordinary happenings, and they're not all good. But who wants to hear all that negativity? You all know the things I'm talking about anyway, we all seem to have experienced some things in common, and I'd rather talk about the good things that are beginning to happen. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial;"><span style="font-family: Arial;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">I'm not sure why, but my wife is actually okay with me starting to dress the way I have always dreamed of, that of the real me, at least at home. Up till now I have never worn women's outer clothing. Well, guess what? We have been shopping for some clothes for me. My wife has even bought a couple of things on her own and given them to me. Unbelievable! Nothing fancy or real feminine, just some simple basic items. Now feminine attire is not entirely new to our marriage as I have worn women's under garments for many years, sometimes a real source of contention between us, because I could never bring myself to tell my wife the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">truth</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"> about who I am, and why I wanted...no...needed to wear these items, until now. All of my life I denied it, and I buried it, accept for an occasional instance. I finally lost the battle against all that denial, for good. Again, Praise the Lord!</span></span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">We are having some very good days and some not so very good days. Terrific grammar, huh. I believe if we can keep up the lines of communication ( the Lord willing and the creeks don't rise ), we stand a good chance of winning this battle, not the whole war yet, just this particular battle. I'm sure there will be more to come. The Lord has been very gracious in that He has helped me to finally be able to talk about things that were, are, extremely difficult. I have never been able to talk about my feelings before because of all the denial. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">My wife has been somewhat amazed at the changes in me regarding my opening up and talking like never before. I think this change has had an immense impact on our relationship. To say her acceptance of any of this has been anything short of a miracle, is, well, unbelievable! Don't get me wrong, there's not total acceptance yet, but way more than I ever could have imagined. I have learned that she has known a lot more than she ever let on about my female side.</span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;">We are working very hard to make this work for us. I, for one, cannot imagine my life without my wife beside me. I have wasted far too much of our lives together due to denial and untruth. That is simply not acceptable any longer, and I am doing everything I possibly can to change that. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have to take this moment to praise my wife for the way she has accepted, at least partially, this part of me. She, and the Lord Jesus, have been so Gracious to me.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Back to that box of tissues. I had hoped they wouldn't be necessary this time. I was wrong.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'm going to end this post now, before I lose it altogether, but I will try to write more as often as I can in the future. It seems that I feel much freer to be myself in my writing, now that my life long secret is no longer that, a secret. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hugs to one and all, and God Bless,</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: magenta; font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia</span><br />
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</span>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-76364630886489782522011-09-28T12:54:00.001-06:002011-09-28T13:05:32.269-06:0040th Anniversary<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hi everyone. Just wanted to let you all know that my wife and I are celebrating our 40th anniversary today. And my wonderful wife now knows about me. Actually she found out about a month ago. She is being as supportive and helpful as I never would have believed. Things aren't perfect, but oh so much better than I ever dreamed possible. A lot of tears, hers and mine, but, our Lord Jesus Christ is working miracles beyond measure </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">in our lives. The Lord is so Gracious.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I want to thank all of you out there who have been so supportive and helpful to me. I have learned so much from all of you and your blogs.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Hugs and prayers to everyone,</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia XX</span>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-81652000801867370962011-09-16T12:43:00.002-06:002011-10-22T13:17:40.472-06:00"I am too a girl"!!!<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Sorry I haven't had anything to say for awhile. A long while. Been doing a lot of mind and soul searching.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I need to say up front...this post has been extremely difficult to write and very time consuming. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">If anyone else has had even a similar experience ( oh please Lord, I hope not! ), my prayers go out to you.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">With that said, here goes.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now that I am being </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>honest</em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> with </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>myself</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> in order to move ahead with some clarity, memories of my childhood have begun to slowly come up to the surface. Believe me when I say, I'm happy that it is only slowly and hasn't been like a flood gate opening. I've shed enough tears to make me believe it has been like the great flood of Noah's day. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">It's been difficult on one hand to accept some of the things that I have remembered, while at the same time, offering me a new found freedom. Freedom! I have been freed to find and learn more about Cynthia. About how and when she...we...<i>I</i>...came to be. About her dreams, her desires, what she's been doing with her life. And oh yeh, I found out she...we...I...cry a lot! A whole lot more than me...the </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">other</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">me, one of us anyway.</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Girls, can I cry! I've come to accept and actually enjoy <i>my</i> time crying. What better way to get to know someone? Now I almost never did before, cry that is. My crying as Cynthia is really stirring up some childhood memories and for that I'm eternally grateful. I'm not sure how, but at least it seems to be working that way, so far. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Dang it already, where are my tissues? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now the more I remember things that happened to me and things that I did when I was very young, more and more details start coming back to me. So much of my memory has been buried for so long that it doesn't come back very easily. Too much, too fast, just might be disastrous. So, as I said before, slowly is working well for me right now ( praise the Lord! ).</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I will start out remembering something, and the next thing I know, Cynthia is whispering in my ear about something else. Talk about rabbit trails. It gets a little frustrating, but I'm trying <em>really hard</em> to trust Cynthia and remember <i>all</i> the things that happened to her back when, and I </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">need to</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> get all of these buried thoughts and memories out in the open where I can </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">deal </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">with them. Writing it all down here is helping...</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a lot!</span></i><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I started remembering this incident from my childhood about a year ago, but only in bits and pieces. I had no idea what was coming. It took me a long time to sort out all of the details so I could make sense out of it. I just kept writing down these bits of information until I could put the pieces of the puzzle together and have it sound rational. <i>Did I say rational? </i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">As I have said before, I had, what I can remember of it, an okay childhood. Mostly. Along the way there were a few bumps and less than terrific incidents, as I'm finding out. But this one long lost ( buried ) memory of something that happened when I was very young was extremely traumatic ( then and now ). But I felt that I needed to write it down in order to get it out of my system. It has been eating at me for a while now. I think if I remember any more like this one, I may need to see a shrink. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I have wanted to remember, for quite some time now, when I first learned how and why I believed I was different. Most of my memories seemed to center around me mostly <i>feeling</i> different. But, w<em>hy did I feel so different inside? </em> I always thought I was a girl, ( even though I was referred to as a boy ), and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">that was all I ever remember believing I was!</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I seem to remember thinking that I should have been wearing a dress, and had longer hair</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, definitely not wearing boy clothes, and short hair.</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> But I never really understood why I believed that. <i>And why couldn't I wear a dress?</i> I know now it's because I didn't know the <i>real</i> difference between boys and girls back then ( please, I was only 4 or 5, and naive, and I had never seen that real difference between boys and girls ). But...</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>Girls...</em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>was <b>I</b> ever going to get an education! I wouldn't wish this on my worst enemy.</em></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em></em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I hope you don't think this next part is silly, because,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em> believe me, it wasn't!</em></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em></em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">One day, I was playing with a few of the girls in the neighborhood ( after all, I was a girl...and didn't really like to play with boys. I mean, girls were nicer to play with than boys anyway, <i>or so I thought</i> ). I don't remember exactly what we were doing. I think we were playing with dolls ( I do remember, I loved to play with dolls ), but then the other girls decided they wanted to play <i>Doctor </i>instead. I had never played doctor before, so I didn't know how to play it. It sounded a little scary to me anyway. I mean, who likes to go to the doctor? Needles and all that stuff! Yuck! Well, I found out what it was all about...and...that I was at the other girls' mercy now</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. I think these girls were a little older than me and knew something that I didn't.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well, here I am, learning how to play doctor. We're examining each other, like listening to each other's heart beat and we're putting bandages on each other's injuries, and checking reflexes with a hammer ( that can hurt ). Some memory, huh? Now, I seem to remember I was having fun. I mean, it seemed like a fun game, but as time went on, things got </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">very interesting.</span></i><br />
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<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The girls I'm playing doctor with, along with probably being older, and smarter than me, now decided to add something to the game. They say this part of playing doctor is called...are you ready?...*</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I'll show you mine if you show me yours</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> *. OOOKAY...now what's this all about? I think they had some ulterior motive behind this new introduction. Yeh, <em>I think they knew something all along.</em> Well, I have no idea what this is about either</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">...until they explain! </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>OH NO! GIRLS!</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> <i> Have any of you ever played this?</i></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well...here we are...and on the count of three, we all pull our panties down and show each other what we look like.........<em> </em>I can't believe what I see! This just isn't right! Is this what girls really look like? <i>Not like me?</i> Every one of them looks the same, but I sure don't look like them </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">( and I'm a girl too, Right?, Right! )</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. Now, as I remember, I kind of thought girls were different than boys ( though I really didn't know why or how ), but </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">uh oh</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, I think I just found out. I couldn't believe how much different girls really were, especially down there that is<i>, as compared to what I am showing off to everyone ( </i>Ewww! ). And here I thought all along that I was a girl. Maybe I was just an average girl, but a girl just the same. Or so I thought. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>Now I <b>know</b></i><em> they already knew something! </em> And I get this awful feeling that maybe I am not a girl </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">( impossible?! ),</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> and I realize that now I'm sure that I <em>really don't </em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>like</em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> what I have between </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">my legs </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> ( honestly...I don't remember <i>ever</i> really </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">liking</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> it...but why?). Now I've found out that I don't look like them and I'm supposed to look like them </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">( I'm a girl! )</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. And now I'm really confused and starting to think in my tiny little girl brain that something is very wrong. And I'm scared. Scared that somebody must have made a big mistake when I was born ( does anybody believe a little girl can think this is possible at this age? ). But how can that be? How can you be born a girl but have boy parts? This just isn't possible. Now, who says kids aren't smart? I think this is pretty darned intuitive for a 4 or 5 year old.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So...now what do I do? Here we all are with our panties down to our knees, and they are all pointing at me and giggling and laughing. Now they're saying...</span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>"You're not a girl!"..."Y<i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><b>ou're a boy!" </b></span></i> </b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-style: normal;">And I yell back,</span><b> "No I'm not!" </b></span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I try to tell them they're </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">wrong</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">, that</span><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> "</span></b><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I am</span></b></i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></b><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a</span></b></i><i><b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> girl!"..."</span></b></i><b><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I was born this way and...I am too a girl!" </span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-weight: normal;">How does a small innocent child think like this? Where does it come from?</span></span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span></i></b><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Talk about being traumatized. </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I didn't know why God would want a little girl to feel that kind of <em>s</em></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>hame and humiliation. But that is exactly what they made me feel. At least at that time. </em>I finally realized later, quite a bit later, that<em> it was those girls who were so cruel to me! It wasn't God. ( I have since forgiven all of them. )</em></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I quickly pulled my panties up and I ran away from those girls and cried and cried. I seem to remember that I couldn't stop crying. I found a place to hide, where nobody could find me. I wanted to curl up and just go to sleep so I could get rid of the boy parts and wake up with all the right girl parts. Either that or die. I really remember wanting to die if I couldn't be a girl. Now the pain starts!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Well...I didn't get rid of the boy parts...or get girl parts...and I didn't die ( praise the Lord ). But I definitely believe now that this incident is why I buried so many memories so deep, for so long, and made them so hard to remember ( definitely not a good thing, but better than dying ). I think this was the last time, or almost the last time, that I remember playing with girls. Not by choice, <i>by shame and humiliation. </i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> Where did I put my tissues?</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Ahh, the indomitable memory...and I found my tissues. <span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;"> Indomitable: adjective; impossible to subdue or defeat, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="color: #741b47;">a woman of indomitable spirit.</span> Isn't that what all of us are? </i>I did have a change of heart later on and decide to like girls again and not hate them <i>all</i> for what those few girls did to me. After all...I'm a girl! That's right, I'm Cynthia!!!</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Over this past year or so during which time I spent remembering this one incident, no longer is it maybe. I now strongly believe it was responsible for my </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><em>playing boy </em>from then on, at least for some of the time ( because in my heart, I was still </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">a girl )<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">. </span></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"></span></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Then a few years went by and </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> showed up again. I think this is when I wished more than ever that I was a girl. I wanted so badly to be a sister to my brother and sister, and not be their brother. I so wanted to be like her. Play with her and her friends, not the boys in the neighborhood. Wishful hoping and praying, but not to be. Mind you now, I'm still very young and still don't understand who or what is going on inside of me. I simply believe I'm a girl inside, at least most of the time, but I know I don't look like one on the outside. This is all beginning to hurt again. Now, little girls wouldn't have any knowledge of GID or trans-anything back then. Still too young. I wouldn't even know to look for information or help. Not until many years later. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, now what do I do? </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">I seem to remember thinking that my parents wouldn't be able to help me. I doubt seriously if they would have a clue as to what is going on inside of me. This is back in the mid '50's after all. So, I keep it to myself, pain and all. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">The next phase, I become a teenager, and like earlier, look out! </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> is back again...even stronger...and periodically throughout my teen years. I did write a little bit about my teens, but I'm going to leave the rest of that for later. I still have a lot more to remember about that time in my life. There are just too many holes in the picture still, but it's been getting a little clearer. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">For the following years, until now, I have been in boy or man mode. Eeewww! Yeh, great expectations. But periodically, </span><i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia</span></i><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> would come back into my life. I used to wonder why </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">each time </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"><i>she</i></span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> </span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">came back,</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;"> I always se</span><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">emed to feel different, good, better, the best I would ever feel until now. She always presented me with some very good feelings and some strange feelings, but I always seemed to feel oh so much calmer and at ease when she was with me. Like I was finally experiencing the real me. I'm learning now why I felt those things. I'm truly learning to love this journey.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This has been, to date, the hardest thing in my life I can remember having to deal with. There may have been some others ( I don't remember them right now ), and there may very well be others to come ( I pray not ), at least not this traumatic. I can't tell you how many tears I've shed during the writing of this. It has taken me, off and on, the better part of this last year to put this together. Even before this blog. That's why I started this site. I had to have somewhere to store this saga.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Now I realize, these memories are always there, they aren't lost, only misplaced, or buried, mixed up for sure, and you never know when they are going to surface. As I accept more and more of these facts about myself, I seem to be able to remember more. I mentioned it earlier, it's called <em>Freedom</em>. Freedom to believe and accept that <i>I really am a girl ( I have a lot of growing up to do )</i>, no matter what any one else thinks or says. I really don't care what the label, I don't care what the term, and I don't give a rats behind what word or acronym is being bantered about and debated today. I REALLY DON'T CARE! I AM A GIRL! I AM CYNTHIA!!! And I praise my Lord Jesus for what and who He has allowed me to be born as, and for the memories He is giving back to me, however joyous or painful they may be. I'm a <i>better girl</i> for it. </span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">So, with that said, I'm going to get another box ( or 12) of tissues...and I think I will buy some stock in Kimberly Clark or Kleenex, if these tears keep coming.</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">This brings me up to my previous post in the chronology of Cynthia. This may be a little difficult to follow as it's a little out of order, so please bear with me. Things are a little foggy still and out of sinc, but they are getting clearer all the time. I have to keep writing down these events as my memory digs them up from down there in the dungeons of gray matter. I'll try to put things in better order from now on, but don't hold your breath. After all, it keeps you all on your toes, doesn't it?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;">Wow!!! I can't believe how long this post has become. It's got to be a girl thing. Oh well, we girls just take longer to say what we want to, or in this case, <em>need to. </em></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: Arial;"><em>Remember I said at the beginning that this was extremely difficult to write? Well, after I finally got it all written down and read it through from start to finish, I felt so much relief. I got some of that pain out that I spoke of. I am finally beginning to find my heart and soul in Cynthia. One little memory at a time. This is certainly proving to be a most cathartic journey.</em></span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Bye for now, and hugs everyone,</span><br />
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<span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: Arial, Helvetica, sans-serif;">Cynthia </span>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-63562331980609385292011-07-08T18:36:00.000-06:002011-07-08T18:36:05.283-06:00More Memories...<div style="text-align: left;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;">I shall make another attempt to put into print some of the thoughts and feelings I have had most of my life. Perhaps there is something here that can help someone else with their travels. Forgive me my ramblings.</span><br />
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There was a time ( prior to adolescence ), when I wished that I was not my sister's brother, but instead her <i>sister</i>. I always felt like I identified with her and the female me, but not the male me. I wanted to join in with her and her friends, to play with them and their dolls and their toys. I had no interest in boy toys. I would even sneak the pleasure of some of the forbidden fruit ( as often as possible ). I just couldn't fathom out <i>why </i>I wanted that. I only knew that the way I <i>felt</i>, was not how I was <i>presenting, </i>and that was a bit scary. The little world that I grew up in would not, at least in my mind, allow me to present the female me, with those that I felt the closest ties to. To this day, no one knows any of this. OOPS!<br />
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Back then I had never met anyone or heard about anyone saying that they were a <i><b>female inside</b></i>. Wish I <b>had</b> <i><b>known </b></i>more. I felt all alone and like an alien. I just plain didn't <i>fit. </i>Everything I felt was simply foreign to me. There was nothing to relate it all to.<br />
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Now, my life wasn't all doom and gloom. All in all, I had a pretty good childhood, not a horrible one. I didn't feel this way on a daily basis by any means, and I thank God for that now, but often enough to be able to have those feelings surface periodically. I guess I was pretty good at hiding my feelings, burying them pretty deep, at least deep enough to put it all on hold for extended periods of time ( only to resurface again _ and again _ and again ).<br />
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In my early teens some of those feelings did surface again. I even tried to make some clothing for myself ( couldn't afford to buy them ), by myself ( of course, and I won't go into detail as to what I made ). I actually got to be pretty good with my mother's sewing machine ( at least as good as a teenager could ). I would find scraps of material in my mother's sewing stuff, and piece things together. I actually had a couple of things turn out half way cute. IMHO! I loved how it felt to feel like a girl when I wore these creations. I would try them on and felt like a teenage princess, at least for a while. Then it was back into hiding again for as long as I could manage.<br />
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<i><b>Here come the full blown teen years: LOOK OUT!!!</b></i><br />
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<i><b>A drivers license and my own car, oh wow, new found freedom!</b></i> I found the freedom that would allow me to explore a little bit more of who ( and what ) I was. I never went too far with this exploration though, fear can keep you from doing many things. We lived in a very small town and my parents new just about everyone in town. If anyone saw me or my siblings doing something wrong, not that what I was doing was wrong, just not what was considered <i><b>normal</b></i>, well, it got back to our parents, pronto.</div><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-family: inherit;"><br />
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After high school, we all moved out west to a much larger town ( actually a city ). Now I had even more freedom to explore. But I think I'll leave that post for the next time.<br />
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Don't you just love these serial posts? Plus it will give me more time to gather my thoughts.<br />
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<i>Throughout all of this reflection, I have come to know, without a doubt, that I have always been and always will be a woman. I praise my Lord for allowing me to be born this way, otherwise, I would not have experienced the wonders and heartaches of both genders. ( there are both ... you just have to look ).</i><br />
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Hugs to everyone, XOXO<br />
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Ps: Does this sound like you've heard it all before??? It's beginning to , to me. I guess there are only so many stories in the Naked City.Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com5tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-90551355858037121952011-07-03T08:54:00.001-06:002011-07-03T08:55:20.128-06:00To All The Girls...<div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">To all the girls out there who have been so wonderful to all of us...</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">HAPPY 4th OF JULY WEEKEND</span></div><div style="text-align: center;"><span class="Apple-style-span" style="font-size: x-large;">Hugs all around</span></div>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-76620303055951832802011-06-22T11:57:00.002-06:002011-06-30T18:01:00.409-06:00A Little More About MeIt's been quite a while since my last post, so, here goes.<br />
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Hopefully I can remember and relate some more of my past. I have kept so much of my thoughts hidden for so long, that it is really difficult to bring them to the surface. I keep thinking about past incidences, and equating them to the feelings I've been having in recent years.<br />
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I know now that I have always been a woman inside. So much of the way that I have seen things over the years tells me that I have always tried to talk myself out of the truth. That all those feelings would go away. Probably explains why I got married. I figured if I got married, ( I truly do love my wife of 40 years ) all those female thoughts would be replaced with the "man of the house" behavior. I now know those thoughts could and would never go away. I know all this is true now.<br />
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Like some, I really can't remember any one incident that was a revelation. I just seemed to muddle through everything until those feelings were hidden again. I remember the first women's clothing I ever bought. When I put them on I couldn't believe how wonderful it felt to be dressed like I should be. It felt so natural. I cried because somehow I just felt that these feelings I was having would never be realized in a real life for me. I had no knowledge of what help was available at this time, this was the 60's and I had no idea where to look for help...didn't even know there was help out there. I had only heard of Renee Richards and Christine Jorgenson. They were celebrities with lots of money ( I had neither ) and hence figured these were needed to be able to do anything about who and what I believed myself to be.<br />
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Over the years I did learn that there was help out there, but by now I had a wife and family and financial responsibilities that would preclude me from ever doing ( in my mind ) anything about my condition. I am not angry or anything like that, maybe just a little sorrowful. I've lived with this for so long now, It's just a part of my life that I have come to accept and embrace as the way my Lord has allowed me to be born as.<br />
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Jesus is my Lord and Savior, and nothing will ever change that, not the world or anyone in it, or this condition I live with. My Lord gives me peace and as such I am able to see the others out there who are somewhat like me and I am compelled to pray for them and not just myself. We are all women just trying to live as normal a life as possible given our own special circumstances.<br />
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This has been wonderful getting some of this out in the open. Like so many before me who say this is about only me and my personal feelings, ( a diary as such ) maybe it will let some other wondering soul know that they are not alone.<br />
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I continue to trust in the Lord Jesus Christ to guide and direct me. That is why any comments I make are always about my praying for the person posting, whether they are believers or not, WE all have special needs and God can make those needs His priority. We just need to walk next to Him.<br />
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I am a little weary at the moment. All this has made me a bit teary eyed, not sadness, more relief. I have learned so much from all you women, your posting is such a wonderful service to all of us. Godspeed to all of you.<br />
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All my Prayers and Hugs and God's Blessings for all of you,<br />
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Please excuse my rambling.Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com7tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-85154574008965082602011-06-08T11:51:00.000-06:002011-06-08T11:51:00.166-06:00A Starting Point<div style="text-align: justify;">This is going to be my attempt to start my story.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My earliest recollections of things being not what they physically appeared to be, you know the junk I'm talking about, was when I was fairly young. I don't remember my age, but I think probably around 6 to 8 years old. I can remember looking at the advertisements in the Sunday newspaper and always being drawn to the women's section. I certainly don't remember any kind of sexual feelings about it. The only thing I do remember feeling was that I wanted to be the girls and/or women in the ads. To be soft and round and able to feel that happy and pretty seemed like a dream to me. Throughout grade school I just wanted to be like all the other girls. I was always more comfortable being around girls. The boys were always trying to do rude things to the girls and that disgusted me. I managed to stay out of trouble where boys were concerned, though it wasn't easy. In high school I was quite unpopular. More studious than physical. I only had a couple of dates the whole time, and as I see things from this vantage point now, I really only wanted to be closer to the girls so I could feel more like them. </div><div style="text-align: justify;">Well, long story short, I ended up getting married and having a family. I've been married for 40 years to the most wonderful woman. My wife and children are the world to me. I don't regret them at all. I am a product of the 50's and 60's, and as such, was quite ignorant of the transsexual world. I had only heard of Christine Jorgensen and didn't know what was available in the way of help. It was a very different time back then. You pretty much just stayed where you were in life. I have since found out that there were many girls who found their way to their rightful place. I have nothing but happiness for them. This will probably never be my path, not at this time in my life, I'm getting to old. But, just knowing that I was right feeling the way I did all those many years, has set me free.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I know that my Lord Jesus Christ loves me, and that He will take care of me, is more than I could ever hope for. He only judges me by my sin, and I don't believe this is a sin. I was born this way and I will die this way. It's how you live your life in between ( for Jesus Christ ).</div><div style="text-align: justify;">I'll try to fill in the blanks as I go. This is still all very new to me, but I am learning so much from all of you gals out there. All of your life stories are amazing, I'm feeling more and more akin to all of you. You are all just wonderful.</div><div style="text-align: justify;">My prayers go out to each and every one of you.<br />
More about me another time.</div>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com6tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-42882311497718365122011-06-01T10:53:00.000-06:002011-06-01T10:53:44.943-06:00Please, I Need HelpPlease, anybody, I need help commenting on certain others blogs ( TRANSITIONING PAST for example ). It's all part of my computer ignorance. I click on the respond by GOOGLE ACCOUNT, but I can't get my comment to go through. If any of you girls can help me, please do. If Debra is listening, maybe she can help,PLEASE. <br />
And I am trying to put together another blog and publish it as soon as possible.<br />
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<a href="http://findingcynthia.blogspot.com/">http://findingcynthia.blogspot.com/</a>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com10tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-22898746941489530582011-05-20T18:45:00.002-06:002011-05-24T15:47:55.660-06:00Oh My Word...Oh my word...Halle wrote a response to my blog already. I can't believe it. Thank you, thank you , thank you. I am on cloud nine now. Like my profile says, I'm a 60-something mtf who knows very little about where I'll be taking any of this. I'm married and have been for a very long time to the same wonderful woman. I don't think I'll ever be able to tell her anything about this part of me. Shoot, I don't even know everything that's happening to me. So if I can figure out more of what is going on I'll certainly try to relate it to you all.<br />
Again Halle, thank you so much for responding to me.<br />
Looking forward to writing more.Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7515375289016679235.post-14760676070170848312011-05-14T11:11:00.000-06:002011-05-14T11:11:01.065-06:00I'm Back<strong>Well ...I'm back...with nothing real to say except I'm trying to figure out this whole blogger thing. For somebody with very little knowledge of computers and how blogger works, I'm trying my best. Hopefully I'll get better with this <em>as time goes by</em> ( I think there's a song by that title ).</strong><br />
<strong>I've wasted enough of your time with this drivel for now , so I'm going to go and bang my head against the </strong><strong>wall for awhile. I really love reading about all you sisters out there. Please keep helping me with this road I'm on.</strong><br />
<div align="left"><strong> God Bless...</strong></div>Cynthia Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16222413324022459669noreply@blogger.com1