Men of the Skull Interlude XII: Transitions

 This is the last of the interludes.  I decided to steal a page from Bram Stoker and tell this particular story through letters, journal entries, and social media posts (because Stoke was a MySpace fiend!)

So the interludes mixed with the chapters and stuff mean that the entire book is now written.  Now it needs cutting.  Hard core editing.  

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Interlude XII: Transition

Blog entry 2013

The Darkness

Several months ago, my Sister Lisa Empanada committed suicide.  The following piece was written maybe a week later, as my mind spun deeper into the Darkness.  It's not a long piece.  I never finished it, as I just couldn't.

I must also say that I no longer feel this way.  Thanks to the help of caring people and of my therapist, I managed to pull away from the Darkness, and LIVE.  After all, I made promises.  Promises that I'd live to be the Woman I am destined to be.  I promised Lisa.

So.  Here it is: completely unedited.

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I am totally worthless.

I have no value.  I could die tonight and no one would know or care. I would lay dead for days before anyone would notice.

What am I anyway?  I'm a freak.  No one cares about the freak.

Let's face it.  I've failed at everything in my life.  I've failed as a man.  I've failed as a woman.  I've failed as a husband and a father.  I fail as a friend.  I can't find a real job, and can barely hold the ones I have.

I always say the wrong things.  I piss people off.  I do the wrong things.  hell, I chose teaching and where has that gotten me?  I work retail for fucks sake.  I'm poor.  Broke.  And broken.

What's the point anyway?  Who am I helping by staying here?  no one.  I'm a burden on all who are stuck knowing me.  Nothing but a dead weight dragging everyone down.

There's no point.  No point in being alive when i Know what follows.  And Lisa is waiting for me there.  We can explore the afterlife together, laughing into eternity.

I would be long gone before anyone even knows.  I could be at peace, away from all the pain.  Wife would be relieved.  No more Sophie to worry about or to be embarrassed about.  No explaining to daughter needed.  Both would forget soon enough and be happy.

no one needs me.  So I don't need me.  I don't need pain.  All i need is for it all to end.

 

Blog Entry (Excerpts) Tuesday December 31, 2013

Some things seems pre-ordained.

We ALL know that, as mortals, someday we will die.  We all know that we will be taxed by a government.  We know that trans-people will be senselessly murdered.

I also knew that my parents would reject me as a Woman.  I mean after all, I've mentioned how they treated me growing up.  Dad being ultra-macho Army and all.  I never give them a chance.

In any case, telling them was my next big step.  I decided that I'd write a letter so I could have my points exactly as I wanted them... 

 

So.  I wrote a letter.  Trashed it.  Tried again.  Trashed it.  Tried 14 times.  Full trash can (as I write first drafts on paper.)  Recently, Dr. Cerise Richards challenged me to post this letter to help others, so it follows.  I give permission for girls wanting to use it or piece of it to do so, just not for publication, where I reserve all rights.  So.  Here it is.

Dear Mom and Dad,

Wife and I are here today to tell you exactly why we are no longer living under the same roof.  As I have maintained many times, the fault is not hers in any way.  The issue is complex, which is why I’m reading this to you instead of just speaking.  I wanted to get it right.  Wife knows all of what I am about to tell you, and has known for nearly two years. 

There is something I have to tell you about myself.  While this is serious, I am NOT dying, nor am I intending to do so.  I have been hiding from and or dealing with this problem since I was four, and I really did not understand it.  I am sure you have realized that I have had problems and even though I have tried to maintain a steady face on the surface, something has never been quite right with me.  As you know, I’ve been in therapy for 13 years.  You also know about my hospitalization back in 1990.  For the past five years, I’ve been seeing a specialist to get a handle on my issue and of get a better understanding of myself.  You may have noticed some changes in me this year.  I feel better, both in general and about myself, than I have at any time in my life. 

 The medical term for this condition is called Gender Dysphoria and it is basically the condition of being transgender…

 

…This has nothing to do with how I was raised, my diet… anything.  I was BORN this way.  41%  of people with this attempt suicide as it’s a very painful way to live… 

This is not a choice; it is something that I have to do in order to survive.  I have been treated by a therapist for five years and also, saw a second therapist for a second opinion…

This may seem sudden and impulsive, but in actuality, it is not. I have been doing many activities as a woman over the last five years including attending the local King of Prussia transgender support group once a month, shopping and eating out regularly, and helping others who are on this path.  I have spent the last five years building an emotional support network, and have many close friends in the transgender community.  

All I want is to feel at peace and to have a chance to reach my full potential in life.  I will always be your child and I love both of you very much.  The reality is, mentally I have always been your daughter, not your son, and I hope you will be able to accept me.  All I am doing is making physical changes to help me become on the outside the person I am on the inside and be accepted. I will always be here for both of you to help take care of you.  

I realize finding this out is very painful for you right now, and believe me I have always tried to avoid facing this about myself mainly for this very reason.  The last thing I ever wanted to do was hurt you, but in order to have any chance at a happy and fulfilling life, I have to make this change… I am the author of my life.  No one else has the right to attempt to form my life in the image they would have it be.  And my life is not based on lies.  My life is based on love and care, for my family, for my friends, for those that deserve my love.

I ask for your understanding, acceptance, and love.  I am passing through a very difficult time, and have already lost so much.  It will get harder, both for me and for you, but in time it will get better.  No matter what, I will continue forward.  I finally have a chance at happiness and peace in my life.  I’d love rather have you see me reach my full potential and that peace. 

You have many questions, and will continue to have them.  I will do my best to answer them for you.

 Love,
Lance
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A heartbeat.   Two.

My mum leaned forward in her chair and said “You are our child. We love you. This changes nothing."

My dad stood and said "Yes, we love you"

That was the first time in my 47 years that my dad said that he loved me.

 

 

Blog Entry (excerpts) March 12, 2014

The following is the [Book store] legal-department-approved letter that I will read to the management staff of my job on Monday, March 10 at 8 AM.  

On Tuesday, March 25, management will begin informing staff, and this letter will be posted on the break room bulletin board, and information regarding being TG will be made available.

On Monday, March 13, 2013, I will report to work as Sophie for the first time.

 

And now, the letter:

..........................................................................................

To my fellow coworkers

I must share the news about a major personal decision that will affect my appearance at work.  My doctors have diagnosed me with Gender Dysphoria (GD), a medical condition in which psychological gender is not in alignment with biological sex.  I am transgendered, which means I was born into the wrong gender…

…The process takes a number of years to complete, but the progress I have made to date has allowed me the ability to now start coming to work in my true gender: female…

 

Throughout the transition, I will continue to maintain the high performance standards that our company and I have upheld.  Post transition, it is my expectation that I will continue to excel at my position and maintain the good working relationships that I currently have within the company, my fellow booksellers, and with our customers…

HR have developed a plan to communicate my gender transition to our employees.  I am positive that we can accomplish a quick and effective transition.  It is imperative that we unify our message and information to assure the staff that we have a plan of action and that all involved are committed to a successful transition.  Office gossip or inappropriate discussions about my personal situation, as it is medical in nature, will serve to greatly undermine plans that have been developed, waste staff time and energy, and affect the performance on the floor…  

 

Journal Entry : Fri. March 21, 2014

Gazebo, Reeves park.  I started by telling her that I loved her very much, that Mommy loved her very much, and that this would never change.  I then told her there are boys and girls, but sometimes, so very rarely, someone comes along who isn't one or the other.  Blah blah blah.  And that Daddy is one of those people.  That daddy was born a boy but was supposed to be a girl.  And that now, Daddy was becoming the girl that she should've been all along.

[Wife] then mentioned that Daughter rememberwhat she learned about butterflies.  "What are butterflies before they're butterflies?"

Daughter smiled and said "First they are caterpillars, then they become a criss-lis, then they become butterflies."  She learned that the first day of kindergarten.

I smiled.  "Well, daddy is in chrysalis now.  And soon I'll become a girl."

“Like a butterfly!”

            “Right!”

            “Can we get ice cream now?”  

 

Transgender Forum Column (excerpts): March 23, 2014

This piece will be published on Monday, which will be my last day ever as a guy.  After that, it’s All Sophie, All day, all night.

So, to get this place took a LOT of planning and a lot of help.  Everyone does it differently.  And here I am going to tell you how I approached it.  Remember, this is my approach, your mileage may vary.  

Also, and I can’t stress this enough, if you don’t HAVE to transition — DON’T DO IT. Seriously.  It can and probably will destroy your life.

The process starts with the most important part — Realization.  After exhausting all other avenues, and still feeling the Intense Pain of Gender Dysphoria, to the point of knowing it means Change or…

After making that VERY difficult determination, I informed my Wife.  It led to a week of crying for us both.  It also led to me being thrown out of the house.  (We lived with her mother, and she threw me out for being a “freak.”)

Then the planning began in earnest.  In this phase, I worked closely with my therapist, Dr. Maureen Osborne, and my “Big Sister” Mel.

Okay, what needed to happen?  I needed to: 1. Set a date.  2. Inform my employers.  3. Inform family (for others this would be the first).  4. Prepare wardrobe and necessities.

The first part was difficult.  Timing is always delicate.  I decided to emulate my beautiful friend Stephanie by going full time at work upon returning from a conference.  In her case it was SCC.  In mine, it was Keystone.  That meant my last day as Lance would be Monday, March 24.  And my first day at work would be upon returning: March 31…

So, having started the ball rolling at work, I began planning how to tell my parents. I asked friends who had already done this, and they were incredibly helpful.  None of us transitions alone.  There’s a reason we’re a Community. Others have walked where you are now, and are usually happy to provide advice.  Especially about their mistakes.

In the end, I decided to write them a letter…  …They surprised me.  They accepted me… On a side note, my older brother laughed at me when I told him.  It was the first time in years I’d spoken to him, and I don’t see any need to speak to him again.

Okay.  What about closest friends?  I actually started with them first.  One by one, I met with them over drinks and told them.  One by one, they accepted me.  I was extremely lucky.  Over time, I honed my “presentation” to what NEEDED saying.  I’ll come back to that.

I decided I wanted to tell others that I simply didn’t have time to reach.  How to do it… Well, I’d been making videos for YouTube, so why not make one in drab, and send it out?  So that’s what I did. I made two videos: one for friends I’ve known ten years or more, and the other for more recent friends…  …I sent the one for older friends first. And so far, I have a better than 40% return rate, of which all but one was positive. I expected the rate to be far lower.  The one that wasn’t positive was essentially a “WTF?”  Then I sent out the other one, mostly to coworkers with whom I am close.  I think I chose well, as I have a 100% return rate with that, and all are positive.

I’ve been cautioned by many, including Donna Rose, that initial reaction is not necessarily long term reaction.  So all these positives my melt away like “tears in rain.”  But I need these positives.

All that remains is to post my Truth for the world to see on Facebook on Tuesday.  And for that, I am following the advice of my dear friend Jen L, who told me to approach it like a marketing campaign.  Keep it all positive — eliminate any negative.  All smiles.  All happiness.  Communicate with negatives privately, while thanking positives publicly.  Now?

I wait.

And I try not to freak out.

I have run headlong into burning buildings as a paramedic.  I have done things that chill my blood to think of them now.  And this?  This scares the living Hell out of me.  As I write this, Lance has two more days before Sophie takes over forever.  And I’ve never been such a huge ball of anxiety.  Thank God I planned this thoroughly in advance, because right now I couldn’t plan the strategy for a game of Candy Land.

Upon returning [from the Keystone Conference], I will have the Dreaded First Day of Work as a Woman.  I will deal with coworkers and customers.  If there’s an issue, I am not to engage- I am to let management handle it…  

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Social Media Post, 10 PM

March 24, 2014 ·

I must share the news about a major personal decision.  My doctors have diagnosed me with Gender Dysphoria (GD), a medical condition in which psychological gender is not in alignment with biological sex.  I am transgender, which means I was born into the wrong gender….

…The process takes a number of years to complete, but the progress I have made to date has allowed me the ability to live full time in my true gender: female.  This begins tomorrow: March 25, 2014.

My family and employer know.  Jen has been as supportive as she can, and my daughter understands the situation, and accepts it.  I will be off this week from work, and I will return to work next week as a woman.

I understand that there will be an adjustment period for everyone, but I would appreciate when you see me calling me by my chosen name of Sophie, and then using the proper pronouns like “she” and “her” in conversation…

…Thank you in advance

Lance Kandler
Aka: Sophie Lisa Kandler

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Blog Entry

Today, March 25, 2014, I begin living full time as a woman.

I announced it to my "male side" friends on Facebook last night, and received many nice comments…

As I said, I announced last night.  Veteran readers know that today at my job, management is informing the staff.  Also, today I leave for the Keystone Conference. 

Last night was rather busy.  I stayed up past midnight, then couldn't sleep.  Why?
Nerves?
No.
I was crying so hard.

I was crying because I really wish Lisa had lived to see this day.  Yes, her loss still affects me that strongly. 

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Transgender Forum column:  June 16, 2014

The Price

If you’ve read this column before, you know a few things about me.  You know that I live full time as a woman, and I have done so since March.

I did so knowing the possibilities. Many of my Trans friends who have not transitioned wonder what this is like. They talk over drinks about the fun of wearing women’s clothes daily, and of no longer needing to hide.

And it’s a wonderful Dream. Isn’t it?

I went into this eyes open, knowing that this would cost me my marriage, and so much more.  I knew it could cost me almost everything, up to and including my life, as it did Lisa’s.

So is it worth all of this?

July 2014.  Still not there yet

What does this Price buy?  Well, there’s the basic stuff.  I go through my daily life and most people see me as a Woman.  I am addressed as such.  Usually.  As a woman, I can, if I wish, wear a dress to work, and no one cares.  The hormones have changed me physically.  I now have breasts of my own.  My skin has softened, as have my facial features.  I’ve been growing my hair for over two years, and now it brushes my shoulders.

All of these things were my dreams when I was younger, and they’ve all come true.

Some things have yet to happen.  I am not yet physically a total woman.  According to the protocols, I have nine months more to wait before I can be approved for that.  Then there’s that whole money thing.  I want my hair to grow much longer as well, so I can look like I did when I wore wigs, or a reasonable facsimile.  That will take time.

Possible side effects are varied. Estrogen causes moodiness. I have learned to cry, and that I cry often, sometimes out of nowhere. I have given up my Male privilege. Yes, it exists, and you don’t realize it unless you don’t have it. Many men treat women as inferiors. Hell, you’d think I got a lobotomy instead of a becoming my True Self.

Be prepared to lose people you thought were friends.  They will NOT understand.  How can they unless they have lived it?  This very night, I spoke to a friend I’ve known since 1980.  He still doesn’t comprehend, but he understands that I was in Pain.  How do I explain to him why I had to do what I did?

I don’t have exact figures for this, but if you’re married: kiss it goodbye.  Marriages that survive transition are so very rare.  Other relationships too.  People lose parents, children, neighbors… even pets.  I rarely see my dog.   Often times we also lose the places we live. And we can’t find others.  Welcome to my world.

We Lose.  And that’s the Price:  Loss.  And that’s what I tell people who say they want to transition.  I say exactly what I was told by my “Big Sister” Mel.  (And she was 100% right.)  I say “Are you prepared to lose EVERYTHING? Because there’s a good chance you will.”

What does one get for all of this Loss? What does the Price buy when it is paid?

Peace.

I am at Peace for the first time in my life.  I’ve written that many times, but what does it mean?  It means that I no longer feel “wrong.”  I look in the mirror and see what I feel I should’ve all along.  Well everywhere but down low, if you catch my meaning.  But that will change someday too.

I sleep in a bra and panties, as many women do.  I fuss over my makeup and hair. I look down and see the changes that the hormones made to my body — not during puberty as with most women, but recently.  

So that is the Price and what it buys. If I had a choice to be just an occasional crossdresser verses who I am now, would I have paid the Price?

Well, that’s a trick question.  And the Entire Point.  For me, it was transition or die.  There were no other options.  That’s how bad the Pain had become.  I have written this many times, and I’ll write it again here:

If you don’t HAVE to transition: DON’T.  It’s that simple.

If I were an occasional CD, I’d probably still live with Wife.  We’d still be a family.  So many other things wouldn’t have happened, like my impending homelessness.

I HAD to transition, and it has brought me the Peace I craved.  I paid the Price, and I’m still paying it today.  I will pay it always, like an eternal student loan.  Now I face the challenge of building a new life.

A Life as a middle-aged Woman.

My Life.

Sleep in the Stars, Big Sister

My "Big Sister", mentor, and one of my dearest friends, Mel, died on the morning of March 20, 2026.  She was 67, and been battling early onset Alzheimers.  

With Mel, June 2010

I had been at the Keystone Conference for the day to reconnect with friends.  I came back to State College and went across the street to my local pub to enjoy a glass of wine.  It was a rare moment- I felt content.  I felt I looked good.  

Then I checked my phone.  My email.  

Hi Sophie,

I hope you are well. This is Melissa's son, Mitch again. Unfortunately, I'm writing with some sad news. My father passed away this morning. As you know, she had been sick for a while, so it's in many ways a blessing that she's passed on. 

 And in a moment, I went blank.  I knew this was coming for more than a year.  But I hoped the day would never arrive.  As I was sitting at a semi-crowded bar, face covered in makeup, I fought back tears.  I paid my tab and walked out slowly.  I had to- I was wearing heels for the first time in forever.  Told you I felt good about my look.  I made it to the rainy sidewalk when the tears finally won.  The cliche- crying in the rain.  I could feel Mel's eyeroll from across the veil.  

I finally put up my umbrella and slowly walked back to the apartment.  All I could think about was her laugh.  The spark in her eyes that said "I know so much more than I'm telling you."  The smell of the lasagna she'd make when she invited me to dinner.  The stories she'd tell...

And so I cried.  

I slowly undressed, hung up my dress, tossed the bra onto the dresser...and laid on my bed and let the feelings flow.  "Let them out- there's nothing stopping you now.  You don't have to pretend to be a man anymore" she would tell me.  

After a bit, I emailed the news to he person who "assigned" Mel to me- my former therapist, Dr. Osborne.  As I wrote years ago, when Mel moved to Albany, 

I met Mel in 2009, at Angela's Laptop Lounge.  She came specifically to meet me, she said.  She didn't do many transgender events anymore, as she was pretty much stealth.  That said, she loved Southern Comfort Conference, where she saw many friends (she and I roomed together at my only SCC in 2013.)

 

Dr. Osborne asked her to advise me since, when Mel transitioned, she had two young children.  When I started seeing Dr. Osborne, my daughter was just over a year old. 

She moved to Albany to care for her ailing mother- who was dying from Alzheimers.  Did Mel know then?  When did she find out? 

She left in November of 2018.  Over seven and a half years ago.  I never saw her again.  Now, the next time I see her will be if her funeral is open casket.  Which I doubt.  

Our last drink.  November 2018.  

Oh, we talked of course.  She sent out almost daily commentaries on the news.  Her analysis, especially on financial policy.  You see, she was a gifted financial genius.  Seriously.  She made millions on Wall Street in the 80s.  

Those emails stopped in 2021.  Is that when she learned?  Or is that when she just... couldn't any more.  

The calls became less frequent.  And she didn't return messages.  Did I offend her?  In December 2024, I sent an email.

Hi Mel!

I haven't heard from you in forever, and the # I have goes right to VM.  I'm worried about you.  

Are you still there?

A week later, I received a reply.  

Hi Sophie,

This is ****, Mel's son. I hope you are well. I, unfortunately, have some sad news, and I apologize for not reaching out sooner. 

My dad was diagnosed with early onset dementia this past winter, and it's progressed pretty rapidly since. My sister and I moved her into an assisted living facility in March and into a memory care facility in North Jersey in August. She currently seems to have stabilized a bit and is doing okay with both good days and bad days. 

Unfortunately, one of her symptoms is pretty serious aphasia, and, as you've already experienced, another one of her symptoms is forgetting to charge her phone and generally not understanding how to work it. So in general, she is pretty hard to get a hold of and understand. However, if you want to send her a card, her address is 

*****

I was planning to give her a call tomorrow or Friday, and when I do, I'll be sure to mention that you reached out. I'm sure she'll really appreciate it, and I know I do too! 

I wrote a letter.  Trashed it.  Tried again.  And again.  I needed to tell her how much she meant to me.

January 12, 2025

Dear Mel,

            I’m writing just in case life keeps me from visiting you in NJ.  I’ll get to possible impediments in a bit.  In any case, I feel it’s important to tell you a few things.  Your son Mitch told me of your condition, and that this is the reason you’ve been incommunicado.  I’m so very sorry. 

            What I want to say (and hopefully I’ll see you to tell you personally) is how much you have meant to me all these years.  Without your help, support, and friendship, I literally would not be alive today.  You guided me through countless dark times and helped me celebrate victories.  I love talking about movies and music with you as your taste is impeccable, and you’re one of the few people who enjoy Dylan as much as me. 

            I know you are guarded as to whom you allow into your circle, and I’m honored that you allowed me in.  You’ve introduced me to so many new people and concepts.  I especially treasure the times you made dinner.  I wish I lived closer so we could dine together again. 

All that said, seeing you is a priority.  I want to talk with you again, just hang out, and give you a hug.  You’re one of the most important people I’ve ever had in my life, and I miss you.

As expected, No answer.  I made plans to see her- several times.  Each time life got in the way- usually financially.  

Then, that email.  Friday night.  In the rain.

I could write so much about Mel.  But she was a very private person- life taught her that.  I will say the following.  Mel was a math and financial genius.  She graduated from Boston University and went to work on Wall St. during the 1980s- with ALL that implies.  She worked for some of the most prestigious firms in the world.  She enjoyed weight lifting, music, movies, and cooking. Fine wines and Scotch. Dated beautiful women.  Married.  Two children.  The American Dream.

But...

There was this... problem.  She saw a therapist and said "cure me." There was no cure.  So Mel moved decisively.  Told her wife, divorced her (amicably), went to conferences and learned all she could, met some of the movers and shakers in transgender thought, made friends, and transitioned using the Top doctors in the country at the time.  Spared no expense.  She could easily afford it, even after the divorce.  

At work, She found that no one listened to her any more.  No one took her seriously.  After all, she was just a woman.  Then the firm for which she moved to the Philly area... "went in a different direction."  Her career was over.  Forced early retirement.

A few years later, against her better judgement, she agreed to mentor a scared new parent taking her first steps into her Truth.  Over time, we became friends, for which I'm honored, as she was very choosy about who she "let in."  Through Mel I met people and learned.  I learned through listening, watching, and not listening and paying the price.  

"Enjoy who you are, but never let down your guard."  "Transition should be your last resort- exhaust all other options save death."  "Get FFS (facial feminization surgery) BEFORE you transition and it'll save you a lot of grief." "Whether you think so or not, you will NEVER be prepared for transition, and the changes it will cause in your life.  It can destroy you."  "You don't have to pretend anymore..." 

She was also a huge baseball fan, and rooted for her beloved Yankees.  She told stories of sitting behind Billy Joel at the World Series.  Proof?  He signed her ticket.

Then there was the music.  She loved all kinds of music. Stones.  Who.  And above all, Bob Dylan.  She'd invite me to dinner at her place, and we'd listen to and discuss Bob Dylan records.  "If you're not busy being born, you're busy dying" the man would sing.  "Death to me means nothing as long as I can die fast."

But she didn't  Alzheimers is so cruel.  

Halloween 2010

Time.  I would give years of my life to her if I only could.  But in her case, death was a mercy.  

Mel was there for me when I was thrown out.  She drove me to the appointment to start HRT.  She was there to help me when Lisa died.  The night I sent my "Coming out" announcement we talked and texted extensively.  First day at work as Sophie.  At my "Debutante party." She was always there- without fail.  

But I couldn't be there for her as she faded away.  No one could help her.  But I will be there for her when she is celebrated.  And I will carry her wisdom and love with me the rest of my life.  And I will continue to pass on her wisdom to the "eggs" I mentor.  Like she did with me.  Against her better judgement.

Mel loved quoting authors, so here I quote Keroac from On the Road.  It's fitting.  You see, Mel was one of "the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones who never yawn or say a commonplace thing, but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars..."

Sleep well, my dear friend. My Big Sister.  As Bob sang, I'll  "See that [your] grave is kept clean."

SCC, 2013

Men of the Skull Interlude VIII: Raven Angel

 Another book chapter which began as blog entries.

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Interlude VIII: Raven Angel

Saturday, January 14, 2012 Obama Bid to Cut the Government Tests Congress

Then came a late "New Years Eve Party" at the Raven in New Hope.  This was hosted by my friends Jen Bryant and Victoria.  They'd done these big parties there before, but I didn't attend.  In fact, I'd never been to the Raven before.  I hadn't planned on going, but suddenly I had the opportunity, so I took it.  I didn’t realize that I’d meet someone who would change, no: define, my life that night

So that day I went up to Amanda Richards to get my makeup done.  After all, they were expecting maybe a hundred girls there so I wanted to look my best!  I wore my favorite LBD and a little... help.  My friend Linda Lewis told me about a way to get the best cleavage from what the prosthetic breasts I had: the Miraculous bra by Victoria’s Secret.  It would give me great cleavage AND increase my size by 2 cups (making me an E cup).  So that was my “secret weapon” going in.  For my first time there, I wanted to turn heads!

I arrived after a ninety-minute drive from Amanda's.  The bar was beautiful!  Carved wood and stained glass.  Several T-girls were there already, and I fell into conversation.

At dinner, I sat with my friend Victoria…

Suddenly a woman plopped into the empty chair beside me, as if she’d stepped in from a brighter, glossier world.  She was polished in every detail: a sleek chin-length blonde bob held by a sparkling double headband, makeup done in that effortless evening style that made her eyes seem larger, her smile warmer.  She wore a strapless metallic dress—white, gold, and silver, and a black shrug with a small brooch framed her shoulders.  Even her jewelry felt intentional, a quiet shimmer of gold at her neck, wrist, and ears.

Lisa and me, that night.

The effect was unmistakable: confident, stylish, utterly feminine.

Wow- this woman was everything I wanted to be.

She was drinking Miller lite straight from the bottle.  She looked at me and said "those bitches at the bar think drinking beer from a bottle isn't feminine.  Well, this is what I say to that!"  And she chugged one down.

She finished, looked at me and smiled.

“Oh, I like you!” I said. 

She introduced herself: Lisa Empanada from Baltimore.  As I’d previously lived there, we bonded over that, and she had a similar warped sense of humor.  Talking to her was like talking to someone I’d known forever.

I didn't drink much as the road home was one favored for drunk driving checkpoints, and I don't think walking the straight line would've possible in heels, sober or not! 

Oh-the bra was a hit.  Success!

Then, after dinner, the music started.   Lisa went to dance, but I didn’t. 

I won't say it was loud, but my fillings rattled out of my teeth.  So, I went into a “quieter” side room, where twenty some guys were sitting around a grand piano singing show tunes: extremely well. 

I left around 11, but not before saying goodbye to Lisa, who was owning the dance floor.  My cover story to my wife was I was at work, so I needed to be cleaned up and home by 1:30ish. 

But I was thirsty.  Two doors down from the Raven was a Wawa (mini market chain around Pennsylvania).  I drove over and just walked in like it was nothing.  “Walk in like you belong there” as I’d been told.  Mind you, I'm dressed to party: low cut dress, high heels, dramatic make-up.  No one even blinked.  No one accosted me for being a “guy in a dress.”    

No one cared.

Wow.  I'd actually gone into a store with no issue.  What was I so afraid of?  Granted, it was in "friendly" New Hope, but it was still an achievement for me- a first.

Drove back to the hotel, cleaned up, and was home at 1:30 on the nose.

So began my relationship with Lisa.  We talked a LOT as we moved forward through our lives.  She would come up to Pennsylvania for Laptop Lounge, and I visited her in Baltimore.  We would hug and laugh when we were together.  It wasn't until later that we cried.  Lisa became a Sister to me: close as blood.  Closer.  We talked about everything and anything.  Finished each other’s sentences. 

And laughed.  Oh, how we laughed.

That night at the Raven didn’t just give me a new friend.  It gave me insight: a glimpse of the woman I might become.  I didn’t dare have the words for it then, not really.  But something in me shifted—quietly, decisively.  The next months would take that spark and turn it into motion, and by the end of the year I would begin changing in ways I had once only whispered to myself in the dark.

 

Monday, December 10, 2012  Justices Weigh Race as Factor at Universities

It was another rainy, cold day in Philly, but for me, it was a great one.  A significant one.

 On December 10, I started Hormone Replacement Therapy (HRT).

Me- on Estrogen.  Becoming a woman in body as well as mind:  A dream come true.  Lisa had begun her hormones just days before me. It felt fitting, the two of us stepping into our futures side by side, even from different cities.

That morning, my "big sister" Mel picked me up extra early, as my appointment was at 9 am, and traffic into Philly is always brutal.  She drove because my license was still suspended from a post Laptop DUI back in August.  We arrived down at the Mazzoni center area at 7:30. As Mel knows the area well, she led me to a really nice coffee shop she likes.  I had diet coke.  We sat and talked for a bit about current events, and about the future.

At 9 AM, I checked in at the Mazzoni Center for my 9:15 appointment.  Within minutes, I was in a small examination room, waiting for Dr. Goodman.  They are quite efficient there.

Dr. Goodman came in and asked me a few questions.  He went over the possible risks of HRT and asked if I understood them.  I signed consent forms.  He emailed my prescription to the Walgreens next door.  I normally don't use Walgreens, but this one gets all drugs at a discount, and by me paying normal price, the difference goes to help pay for others who don't have insurance.

So by paying normal price, I get to help others.  Win-win.

After picking up the drugs, Mel drove us out of the city.  After lunch at the California Pizza Kitchen in King of Prussia mall, she drove me home, where I read the information that came with the drugs:  Estrodiol and an androgen blocker: Spironolactone.

I sat at my computer, and, after doing a little online research into the drugs as well, I opened the bottles and put the prescribed dose in my hand.  The pills were tiny.  One blue, one white.  Blue and White.  How appropriate for a Penn State gal. 

Then, I downed the pills with water.  And like that, my future quietly began.  The dosage was low.  This is just to see if my body can handle it. 

Then the next day it was back to the hell of retail during the holidays

HRT.  A new dawn.

 

 

The Raven closed in October 2019.  It's now a parking lot.

 

Even the small dose of estrogen started causing changes before switching to the full dose a month later.  My skin was softening.  My temper calming.  And, behind my nipples, breasts began to bud.

 

"Living the Dream"

 Yesterday, while preparing to leave for work, I was putting on my shoes and bantering with my roomie/bestie Linda as usual: a typical day.  She said "have a good day" and I replied "living the dream."

That's when my two remaining brain cells nudged me.

I was sitting on the couch while wearing a dress.  I was also wearing a bra which supported my own breasts, pantyhose (yes, I'm old), and pierced hoop earrings.  I was also fully made up and had styled my hair.  I was dressed as the woman I am.  

I thought for a moment about that.  For so many years, this WAS the dream- an impossible dream.  The idea of stepping out the door, never mind going to work, dressed this way, was so beyond possibility that I didn't dare even consider it.  

Yet I've been doing that very thing for almost eleven years.  

Yes, I've paid the very steep price (and will do so the rest of my life), but also yes- I guess I AM living the dream!

And so I went to work.

Be well.

Three More Days 'Til Halloween

Title stolen from here.

As I write/type this, the date is October 28, 2024.  I awoke early today, as I had an 8 AM doctor appointment (transition med check among other things.)   I was rewarded with a beautiful sunrise featuring peach and blue-gray clouds.  

During my appointment, I found that my gall bladder issues were a side effect of estrogen that's uncommon, but happen.  Huh.  Learn something new every day.

In any case, it's Halloween season.  Samhain for some.  Long time readers know that this marks an anniversary- on Halloween 2008, I "rediscovered" myself.  That night I went out dressed as Lois Lane to my Wife's Clark Kent.  (Full story... hmmm   did I ever write the whole story?  I'll check TG Forum...)  The dam that held back 25 years of denial broke.  

That was *counts on fingers and toes* 14 years ago.  I didn't expect to live this long, never mind being Sophie full time among other things.  But, yes, it'll be 14 years, 10 of which I've been full time.  I feel so old.  But in any case, being my age and having been out for so long, kinda makes me a "trans elder."  I have stories to tell, many of which I've told here or on TG Forum (my last post there was August and concerns stories.  Read it HERE.)

I used to be a Halloween fanatic.  Don't get me wrong- I still love the season.  Heck, I'm wearing a jack o lantern face T-shirt as I type this!)  It's just... not as special.  It's been years since I've been to a Halloween party, and I haven't been out on Halloween night since 2019 (I wore my Supergirl suit.)  We don't get trick or treaters where I live.  I used to LOVE planning Halloween parties, which we held at M's house (see M here).  She didn't mind as I and a few others did all the setup, execution, and clean up.  I miss those parties, and the people who attended them.

Hmmm... it seems I never wrote the full story on that first night in 2008.  I thought I did.  Maybe I just can't find it.  

Right.

The story begins two years before: 2006.  Wife and I loved doing couple costumes.  That year, we did Lois Lane and Clark Kent.  Halloween 2007 we didn't as my daughter was born Oct 26.  No Halloween for Wife.  Anyway, a week before Halloween 2008, Wife and I went out to dinner to celebrate her birthday.  As we waited for our food, she brought up the topic of Halloween.  That year, Wife suggested another couple costume: Lois and Clark again.  I said "we've already done that."  She replied "No- this time YOU'RE Lois."  At that moment, the food arrived.  I seem to remember saying yes to the idea, but Wife isn't sure.

So that set off a week of panicked planning.  I enlisted the help of my coworker Elizabeth to help with an outfit and bra.  I got a wig from a Halloween store.  My friend Dawn, who is a beautician, volunteered to do my makeup.  

It took all week, but I managed to find everything (including getting shoes that fit sent 2 day air).  The night of October 30, after everyone was in bed, I pulled out the items and tried them on.  Everything fit.  I crafted my boobs from birdseed in pantyhose feet (a trick I learned from reading the fantastic I am not myself these days by Josh Kilmer Purcell.)  Everything fit.  

The next night as Wife fed Daughter (the natural way) I changed into my outfit and wig.  With me I had the Superman T shirt that I used for Clark Kent (which I still have.)  I finished dressing, put on the wig, grabbed he t-shirt and my phone, and exited the bathroom.  Wife was in the kitchen.  I called out to her and said "ready!!"  She turned and looked at me with a look of disgust.  I took a picture of that expression.  I then tossed her the t-shirt and said "I'll take care of changing [daughter], you get ready."  Then she remembered what we'd discussed for our costumes.

The first party was one at Dawn's.  We brought Daughter, who was barely over a year old.  Dawn did my makeup, everyone had a good laugh (as well as fussing over the baby.)  Wife wanted to go home, so she drove herself to the party.  

I drove to the bookstore, where I wandered around a bit.  Elizabeth was upstairs working in music, so I went to see her.  No one recognized me except her.  They knew I was a crossdresser, but no idea who it was.  After taking pics with Elizabeth, I went downstairs and revealed my identity to the rest of the staff.  Gasps of disbelief and laughs.

With Elizabeth

After this, I went to the bar where we'd all meet.  Some people I didn't know, then my coworkers arrived.  We hung out and drank (I used the men's room.)  One guy was uncomfortable with me, so I made sure to pester him because I was an asshole.  

On the way home, (I shouldn't have been driving... I'd pay the price eventually) I looked down at myself... down at the fake breasts pushing out my sweater... and thought about how right I felt.  I thought about how, for the first time in decades, I didn't feel anger or Pain.  I was at Peace.

I knew that I was in trouble.  

One of "More pictures"

I got back home, where everyone was asleep (It was after 2 AM.)  I quietly took more pictures, then removed my girl things, probably forever.  I washed my face, and... damn nails wouldn't come off.  It would take a lot of time the next day to dissolve them off.

The rest I KNOW I wrote about more than once.  Find that HERE.

In any case, all these years later, here I sit typing in State College.  My roomie/bestie Linda is in the other room recovering from an illness.  Soon, I'll start making dinner.  Thursday is Halloween.  Maybe I'll go out.  Maybe not.  I doubt it.  No fun going alone.

In any case, Happy Halloween or Blessed Samhain.

Be well.