Nice to meet you all.

Hello, it's nice to meet you and thank you for taking the time to stop and read my post, please call me Iris. I am a 26 year old pre op T-Girl. I am hoping to meet people like myself and make some friends. In order to get started, I'll share a little about my life and my struggles.

I can remember being a small child, before I really knew or understood. I'd dress in bright, flowery colours, being too young at the time to really notice the off looks I got as I bounced on our trampoline in the back yard. It was of course not too long before I would begin to notice something was off. Around my fourth birthday I remember asking my parents 'Why can't I have long hair?'. I still remember the look they gave me, and it shocked me at the time how such a simple thing could startle them so much.

I had a number of issues growing up, not the least of which were my peers. Although I never showed my true self to anyone in my school years, rather keeping to myself and reading books by wonderful authors like Terry Prachett to get my mind off of my troubles, they could still notice that something was not quite the way that they felt it should be. As you can imagine, that lead to me being the pincushion of the group, and I would be unwaveringly harassed from the very lowest grades up until I graduated. It was a struggle, I considered suicide, or simply attempting to run away, drop out, or such many times. I still don't know how I managed to slog through it, but the events of those days still haunt me and they probably always will.

It was in my early teenage years that my collection of feelings would really come together, and at last all of my struggles to cope made sense. I was twelve at the time, I had my old CD player, a relic from before the days of antiskip, and had been carefully walking down the sidewalk with my eyes closed to keep out the sun. I found myself picturing my body as that of a woman. Imagining the wind through my hair. It was at that moment that Iris was born, or rather truly realized as she had always been there simply waiting to be heard.

I started by writing about her, as books and writing had always been a source of warmth and comfort for me, and I one day hoped to be able to write something that someone else in my position could read that might bring a much needed smile and warmth into their lives. I wrote many things in those teenage years, some of ordinary life, some fantastic and extraordinary. I would take a little money, that which I could spare from my part time job, and purchase a couple things to wear, and a wig of long brown hair. I'd put them on, and then look at myself in the mirror for a while, then drawing what I'd seen. I'd draw myself without all the masculine features, like an ordinary woman. Just in ordinary positions and doing ordinary things, being free to be me, free to express my true self to the world. It was a wonderful feeling, even if my art wasn't really the best art as I freely admit.

I finally had my goal in mind, keeping it firmly in my heart, I decided I would try and save up myself, despite the work, and I would go to see a therapist and one day be able to become the person on the outside that I was on the inside. Then, the unthinkable happened. I was seventeen and it was the summer of my graduating year, I was fresh out of school, basking in my freedom from the unnacepting people that had plagued my life. My parents had always wanted me out of the house, to go somewhere, anywhere, simply just not to be there. And so I did just that, I went for long walks, visited places, and for the first time in my life I made a couple friends. It was around then I'd get the call. They told me that if I was so determined not to be at home I may as well live somewhere else, and they put my things outside and told me to come get them and get out.

I still don't know if they found my clothes stashed, or my stories, or pictures I'd drawn, but at the time I'd had bigger issues. My friends nowhere to be found I found myself homeless. I took what precious few things I could not be without and hid them in a secret place, hoping they'd never be found, sleeping in various places like the woods, or one time under a bridge, or a skate park. It was a turbulent time in my life. My dream that had once been so close was now replaced with the need for a home, or food. I was homeless for a while, and as November approached I was lucky enough to find a job that paid enough to put a roof over my head. Thankfully my things were largely intact in the hard plastic totes I'd buried them in, and I'd manage to live ok for a while, save a little and even afford a vehicle before losing that job because I'd once again been unable to fit in with my coworkers.

This time wasn't so bad, I had a vehicle to sleep in, and parked at various places where I wouldn't be disturbed when I slept. I'd have to go through this a couple of times in my life before finally things seemed to settle down. I managed to get a low paying job, just enough to cover my housing bills, and had to sell my car, but there I was, the turbulent time was over. However It saddened me at the time I'd lost. I thought to myself, if only I had been able to make the change earlier, I would be happier, more energetic, and would have the drive I needed to succeed rather than being drowned in apathy, hopelessness and self loathing. The only thing that kept me going through those times had been one of my old pictures I'd drawn, and I'd look at it, and close my eyes, and allow myself to hope that one day I could truly be me.

My few years since then have been fruitless. I've managed to stay afloat, albeit barely, and gotten more well acquainted with the internet, which has been a large source of strength for me, none more than a friend I'd make overseas in Sweden. I was friends with this person for a long time before I told them the whole truth of myself and my problem, and they were nothing but the most encouraging person I've ever met. Coming out to them gave me a little bit of the fire I'd lost, a little bit of the hope from days gone by in more innocent times of my life. Then, I made peace with and came out to my family, at long last even though I had always been afraid to. Surprisingly they've been accepting, although I'm still waiting for the right time to formally ask them for help. And so I thought to myself, if the world has people like this in it, perhaps, just perhaps, I can dare to hope. I can dare to hope that one day I can make myself real, my real self, and go out into the world.

It is my dream to change my physical self to match the me on the inside. Once that is done, I hope to go to college and become a therapist so that one day I can be able to provide the words of support to help others. I expect all things considered I'll probably always be single, but romance isn't as much of a concern for me at the moment, for in order to love others I must first be able to love myself.

 

I thank you both for your kind words, and I'm happy to be here. ^^

 

A pleasure to be here. =)

 

Thank you for your kind words. ^^

 

Je vous remercie pour votre message d'accueil genre.

 

Thank you for your kind words. ^^

I only spoke french there because alex had a french greeting. Culturally sensitive and such. ^^

 

Thank you for your kind words. Your signature and picture are very nice.

 

I am glad to be here. I was worried at first there would be trolls on the site bashing us but I'm glad to say there isn't. ^^