Making the Big Decision

Well, I guess to start off this section I should clarify that I never made any decision regarding my gender… It was made for me while I was still in the womb.

A person's gender is defined by their chromosomes and the various hormones that they are exposed to during gestation. In my case, something went a little bit awry during this process, and I ended up with the mental and psychological constructs of a woman, and the physical characteristics of a man. It's a condition very similar to any other intersexed individual, except for the fact that they often have more externally visible ambiguities.

So, in the regard of my gender I had no choice in the matter.

Transitioning, on the other hand, was a choice. But only in the same way that choosing to surgically treat a club foot is a choice. I guess that some rare and unusual person *might* choose to go through their life with a treatable deformity, but most of us would try fix the problem if we had the means and the opportunity to do so. The only difference is that in the case of a club foot, the deformity is clearly obvious, even to the untrained observer. In my case, my problem was much less visibly apparent.

Personally, once I realized that I had the opportunity to treat my condition, there was only one thing that could have kept me from making that choice.

My wife.

Sharon is the love of my life. I would give up anything for her, including the opportunity to finally become Jessica. When the full realities of my condition became apparent to me, one of the first things I did was talk to her about it.

I know that many other people in my situation have felt the need to make a different decision regarding telling their own spouse, but personally I feel that hiding the secret is a mistake. When two people come together as one, there can be no secrets. Any other decision is like a cancer in the relationship. That cancer will grow until it consumes and kills the host. I've seen it happen.

So I told her.

I trusted enough in our love that I was confident she would be able to hear my truth and receive it with grace and love. I really didn't know what to expect beyond that. Well, she didn't disappoint me.

I was a nervous wreck at the time and she was aware that something big was up. She came to me with her support and asked me what was wrong.

"I want to be a woman", I told her.

I'd be lying if I told you that she wasn't shocked and confused. But I was more important to her than her confusion and fear. She told me that she loved me and that we would figure something out together.

That's my Sharon! What a wonderful woman!

Now, we didn't decide to transition right then and there. As a matter of fact, we decided not to take any action on my news until the two of us could get our heads around the information. Together, we talked, prayed, read, researched, and went to counseling. And only after she felt comfortable to move forward did we take any action.

All during this time I made sure that she knew she was the most important in my life. I made sure that she knew that she was *more* important than even my transitioning. I told her then, and I'll tell her today, that if she needs me to stop this, I will.

I know this is hard to believe to most TS's out there, but in my case it's true. Most other girls in my situation would say that they *need* to transition to survive. Most others would say that they would rather leave their spouses, families and friends than to continue to live in their birth gender. I feel differently. You see, my faith is hugely important to me. I believe that if I am intended to be a woman, I'll be so for the rest of eternity. Of course, I'd also like to be a woman here on earth, but those forty or so years wouldn't be worth losing Sharon as the cost.

I really feel that this attitude has helped me to keep my relationship sound and healthy. Sharon hasn't ever needed to feel like her back was to the wall, or that I was calling all of the shots. She was an active participant in all of the important decisions. And having that kind of ownership allowed her to become more comfortable with those decisions.

Together, we decided to move forward, but slowly.

The first things that we did were pretty much just baby steps. I started to let my hair grow out and I started to get laser treatments on my beard. These didn't really bother Sharon at all. I had had long hair when we met, and she had always hated getting scratched by my beard stubble. As a result, these first steps were a win-win proposition.

Next, she and I started looking for a support network. We didn't have a whole lot of luck, being that we lived in rural Indiana, but we were able to meet a few people along the way. Having support is a huge benefit, and even today we rely on a large network of friends and family whom we know will help us when we need it.

I did not start dressing around the house at that time. We still had our kids living with us, and since we hadn't made any long-term decisions at that time, we felt it was best to keep things quiet and private between the two of us. We felt that there was no sense distressing the kids until we knew what we were going to do.

That kind of left me in a bit of lurch. I wanted to move forward faster, but at the same time I realized that we both needed to be comfortable with the process.

Together, we found a solution.

We had always wanted to live in Europe. We both love to travel and living overseas would help us better live that dream. Additionally, the company that I work for had just announced an open position in their London office. We assumed that London would be much more accepting of diversity than our home in the States.

I applied for the job, and a few months later I was on my way to the UK.

Once away from Indiana, I was finally free to start going out more and more as Jessica. I was also free to start something else…

I had previously received a prescription for estrogen while living in the States. Although I filled the prescription, I did not start to take the medications right away. Instead, I spent a lot of time thinking and praying about what I should do. That bottle was filled with both hope and challenge, and I wanted to make sure that I was making the right decision before I opened it.

It wasn't until almost three months later that I finally opened that bottle.

As in everything else, Sharon and I talked a great deal about what we should do before I took any action. On the night that I started medications, we went out to a nice little Italian restaurant, ate, drank a nice bottle of wine, and toasted what we hoped to be a positive step in our lives. On that night, I took my first hormone pill.

My daughters used to complain about certain, err, umm, discomforts during their various puberties… I could finally empathize with them! My nipples hurt! Ouch!

At about this time, I started to lose a bit more weight. Between the pills and the weight loss, my body started to change pretty quickly. Those changes ultimately pushed us into making our next, and biggest, decision.

It was now time to start telling other people.

Well, the first thing I did was to write a coming-out letter. This was a great exercise as it forced me to get my thoughts in order before I was actually speaking with anyone. I took the better part of two weeks writing this, and then I let Sharon edit and help revise it. You can find that letter in the "Telling Friends and Family" section in the "Transgender Links" sidebar to the right of this page.

Well, about this time my Mom and my Aunt Nona came over to London for a visit. Even though I had written my letter, I felt that I needed to tell my mom in person. On her last night in London, we both observed Bussert tradition and got rather pissed. At about 2:00am, and after one too many bottles of wine, I told her that I wanted to be a woman.

She told me that no matter what, she would always love me. Then she told me she was as confused as hell, and could I repeat myself! I went through it a little more slowly the second time! When I finished, she once again told me that she would always love me.

Wow! What a great response!

Now, Mom was just as confused about the whole thing as anyone would be. After she returned home, we had a number of long telephone calls to help her get a handle on the subject. I also suggested that she read "She's Not There" by Jenny Boylan and also "True Selves" by Brown and Rounsley. Both of these are great books, but I think that the second was more helpful to Mom in understanding my condition.

As Mom was getting a grip on things, I sent my letter out to a few close friends and family. The response that I received was almost universally positive. I guess I've done a great job surrounding myself with a true circle of friends.

Well, the more people I told, the more I wanted to tell. It felt great to finally be able to be honest about the real me. It also felt terrifying, but all-in-all it was a bridge I needed to cross and it was good that I was finally doing so.

The next hardest group to tell was Sharon's parents and siblings. I called each of them over the course of a day or two and shared my news. They all took it a little harder, mostly because they were worried about Sharon. That said, even then they were very loving and supportive to me. On the heels of those phone calls, I sent each of them my letter along with my suggested reading list.

At about that time we planned a trip to the States to visit our children. This was mostly scheduled so that we could tell the kids in person. I didn't want to break such news to them without being able to be by their sides when I did so.

Unfortunately, Steve wasn't going to be able to come home. He was on a six-month tour of duty, and at sea at the time. As a result, I needed to tell him over the phone.

The Navy was surprisingly very helpful in arranging that call. I had emailed the Ship's Chaplain and explained the situation. He helped facilitate the call to the ship at a pre-determined time and over a secure and private phone line. He then called Steve to his office after I had established the connection. After Steve arrived, the chaplain left the room to give us a bit of privacy.

In hindsight I'm sure that Steve must have thought the worst when he was called to the chaplain's office for a phone call. Learning that I was only switching genders must have been a relief over the other possibilities for that call!

Steve received the news wonderfully! He told me, "Dad, if you were worried that this would change the way I feel about you, then I've done a poor job of telling you how much I love you. Do what you need to be happy. I'll still be here, and I'll still love you always!"

Folks, I know I am blessed!

Well, next we needed to tell the girls. Each of them also received the news and gave me back the love and support I had so hoped for. My youngest, Heather, was the only one of the five who took the news with any difficulty. Even in her confusion and distress, she was loving and kind to me.

By this time I had already scheduled my facial and other surgeries in preparation for starting my real life test. Now, I realize that this might sound like putting the cart before the horse, but in my case it was critical. I simply couldn't pass otherwise.

I didn't think that I would be able to experience what life was like as a woman if every interaction that I had resulted in my being clocked as a bloke. I guess I would ask any of those uber-conservative gender counselors to think about this fact before they make someone start RLT before giving out a prescription.

Oh well, thankfully that wasn't my problem.

I wasn't worried about the facial surgery. Remember, Sharon and I had talked about this process for years by this time, and personally I was ready. Facial surgery and even breast augmentation didn't represent a final, non-reversible action to me. Even with the facial surgery, I knew I could live my life as a somewhat androgynous man if I ever chose to do so, and I could always get the breasts removed if needed.

Telling people was a much more non-reversible task, because I could never take that back once done.

Regarding telling people, it was now time to talk to my employer.

Of course, I needed to do this before going off for surgery. My plan had been that once I woke up from my operation, I was going to start living full time as Jessica. It would have been a little awkward heading into the office in a skirt and a new face without giving them at least a *little* notice!

Now up to this point, I think that you'll agree that I had been massively blessed in the response that I received while telling people. That was so true. Unfortunately, there were some storm clouds on the horizon.

Since telling my employer I have been unjustly demoted and discriminated against by my former supervisor. This is a long, ugly, and painful story that is still being written. As I get to the point that I can tell you more in this regard, I'll do so in the "Telling my Employer" section. I'm just glad that as of this point, I still have a job…

All right, let's put the work crap on hold for a bit and go back to surgery.

I did kind of gloss over the surgery decisions above, but as I said then, I've always felt that telling people was much more difficult than deciding on surgery. That said, surgery wasn't a foregone conclusion.

There were a few things that did stand in the way of surgery.

First, there was money. I had already decided to go to Dr. Ousterhout in San Francisco. He is the recognized worldwide expert on facial feminization surgery (FFS). But he is also the most expensive. In order to pay for this operation, Sharon and I needed to add another mortgage to our home back in the States. This was yet another gift that my dear wife has given me, and once again I am forever in her debt.

Next, there was the issue of the surgery itself. Now, I'm not a wimp about much of anything. This probably comes from too many years of overcompensating masculinity! Regardless, I had never undergone any type of major surgery in the past and I was scared shitless! I was planning on paying some guy I had never met to peel off my face and staple it back on after carving my skull like a Halloween pumpkin! (Sorry, Dr. O… gross maybe, but accurate… definitely!)

The whole surgery thing kinda freaked me out.

Finally, but most importantly, there was Sharon. She had been really cool about the whole thing up to this point. But while we were discussing FFS, she seemed to get upset a little more easily. I didn't understand which of the abundant possible reasons was causing her distress, until one day she broke down into tears and confessed that she didn't want to forever lose my face.

Oh my! Sharon had never been the most vocally passionate person in the past. For her to say this really meant something to me. She was saying that she loved Josh's face. Wow! I had never thought that my face was much to look at in the first place, and here she was crying over losing it!

I tell you, her words just about stopped me in my tracks. I had already taken so much from her, I didn't want to take any more.

We had a lot more talking to do.

Talk we did. And after a lot of soul-searching, we both decided that moving forward was too important to my happiness, and therefore to her happiness, that we shouldn't just stop for fear of change. Sharon then told me that although she would miss my old face, she was sure that she would also love my new face.

I am truly one lucky person!

So, on March 23rd of 2005, we finally acted on this most recent Big Decision. I went under the knife and woke up as Jessica Diane Bussert.

Sharon and I are not at the end of the decision making process, but that's as far as the story goes for now. Check back in about 10 months and we might have another chapter to add to this story!

Hugs, -Jess