Therapy today

I had a therapy session today. The past few weeks have not been good for me in terms of being productive. I can describe like a baseball relief pitcher who gets the call as needed and doesn't quite get the job done. Maybe he gives up a couple of hits, gives up a run, or walks a batter he isn't supposed to. It isn't like he does a terrible job. In fact, he manages to keep his team ahead. But he knows he should be better!
So I have completed trainings on depression, parenting, as well as see clients in therapy for assorted problems and I have helped them...but...I could have done better. So what is eating at me?
Enter therapy. My therapist is well versed in the gender dysphoria issues. It became clear to me today that I have retreated, closing the closet door. It is time to go forward.
I need to explore and divulge who I am to those around me.
The other option is to stay silent, carry this need to be feminine within me and die with despair and unfulfillment. Is it fair to me and to those I love to live this way?

I plan to first contact a cousin who is emotionally close. She is the springboard leading to the others. Who is in the cast? mother who is 88; brother; wife; son,18; then cousins, aunt, and two uncles. My next therapy session is in a month...

some ads and pictures I was drawn to

My recognition that I was not the usual boy was something I remember vaguely prior to age 9. There was the revelation from my mom that I was supposed to be a girl, or so the doctor thought. As the youngest in my family, that is, the entire family for my first ten years, I was often treated as one needing protection.
The guys were allowed to be rougher while the girls were not to be as athletic and often given advantages in play. I was never typically athletic but like all my cousins, I did come to love sports. But when we played baseball with the wiffle ball I was allowed to bat with the fat plastic slugger like the girls.

It was in 1966 when I became attractive to the first magazine picture (Sophia Loren above). I would stare at the picture wishing it could be ME. A year later, I had what I thought was a "hernia operation" and laid up most of the summer. '67 was a majical year that cemented my allegiance to the Boston Red Sox, but it also found me recuperating on the living room couch for most of the summer. Later in life I was to discover that the surgery was to repair an "undropped testicle" I had been born with.

As I grew into pre-teen and teenage years, I became more aware of my affinity to feminine pictures. It was not who I wanted to be with, but rather who I wanted to BE!

The other pictures I included were a Virginia Slims ad of a woman wearing a see through outfit (I could care less about the cigarette); a pantyhose ad showing a gentleman oogling away from his date to notice the legs of the lovely female seated.; and my all time favorite, Sandy Duncan's gorgeous legs. There was not a day in my teens that I didn't glance at that picture. I wanted to be dressed just like her. My adolescent friends would say that I was a "leg man". However, I just wanted legs like Sandy's.

I'm on a search for more articles and props that made lasting impressions on my identity and have made me realize that gender is truly brain deep.

say hi to lissa

This is the second start of my blog about my experiences past and future being transgendered, and hoping to someday transition. My other blogs, "journey to transgender" did not seem to work out. I'm new at this and so don't have all the kinks worked out.
My goal is rather selfish! I will talk about past, present and future issues, remembrances and recollections that I feel are important to my development. I welcome comments to this blog.