Two voices, one soul

I read this short story (see below) today & felt so humble & so lucky. I am so unbelievably happy & peaceful. I have great empathy for the writer of this story.

In all honesty for nearly forty years this heart breaking & thought provoking piece of work was so true for how I was feeling. The photo is of me some 12 years before I was ready to transition. At this time I was so confused, struggling with denial & for the first time in my life, on the point of finally accepting I needed help.

I never believed I would transition. Possibly the author of the story feels the same. Even a year ago this inner battle of two voices, a lower & a higher voice still applied to me. The lower voice had been the dominant voice for far too long. I am not schizophrenic or suffering from any mental illness, although I have been troubled by depression for many years. My health is finally improving as is my sense of self.

My lower voice is my chatter box which is full of negativity & confusion. The higher voice is my true self, my soul, my sense of self. My feelings a year ago differ from those of the author in the sense that they were not that of wanting to transition, wanting to be a women. I am a women & always have been except my body is sadly that of a man. No one is to blame for this predicament. Nature has played a cruel trick. For me because of the level of gender dysphoria which was dominating my every thought a year ago, it was a case of needing to, but not knowing how to transition. It remains a life long challenge to listen to the higher voice as the lower will also always be part of who I am. I am pleased to say I feel ready for that challenge now.

----------
A Walk in the Park
by Schelli Samantha Starbuck

The little voices inside my head are arguing again.
One, the voice of caution, reason and respectability, tells me "Don't do
it."
The other, the voice of rebellion and, ironically, acceptance, is shouting
"It's a free country; ****them if they can't handle it!"
I look at my bed where two jogging outfits are assembled.
The first outfit, supported by the first voice in my head, is a blue sweat
shirt, gray sweat pants and tan sneakers.
The second outfit, championed by the second voice in my head, consists of
a pink textured tunic hoodie , and a pair of cream colored sweats
with white athletic shoes with pink striping.
I look at myself in the mirror. Under my bare midriff pajamas I already
have on a pair of bikini panties and a sports bra. My long hair is up in a
scrunchie, and still all "bed-headed".
I know I don't really look all that attractive, either as a man or as a
woman. Contrary to all the fantasy stories I read, the fact is that, while I
want to be a woman, it's so difficult for me to pass as one.
My neighbors don't know, as I have been very careful to keep this side of
"me" from the public eye, but the older I get the more I realize that I
need to live for myself and not for the benefit of others.
I don't want to join the martyrs in the war toward freedom, equality,
safety and tolerance that we shouldn't even have to fight in the "freest"
country in the world.
I look at the pink and white set longingly as I give in to the fear and
the voice of reason, and put on the guy's outfit.
I salve my feminine side by putting on some lipstick that cannot be
detected from more than three feet away, my one consolation.
I so yearn for the day that I feel safe enough to listen to the other
voice, the kinder, gentler one crying softly now, and embrace myself
wholly and completely... and be accepted for whom and what I am, not what
others expect me to be so they can feel comfortable in the prisons of
their own limited worldview.
----------------------------------------

I hope & pray that anyone who feels the same way as this dear writer, can find their truth & find their path to discovering their true self & lead a happy & fulfilling life.

I have found the book "Feel the force & do it anyway" by Frances Jeffers to be of great help to me & would thoroughly recommend it to anyone who is troubled by fear & indecision.

Love
Debbie