If you don't know what it's like, than it's hard to explain. If you do, though, I think you will understand.

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I spent my life as two entities: one that outwardly was seen as male, and one that was deep inside me, my female side.

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I'm older and more mature than many of you reading this, so you may not completely understand the repression society forced upon me and others like me. They saw a boy, and eventually a man and that not only informed their perception of me, but dictated the ONLY path I was allowed to follow.

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I would have actual dreams about being a woman. About wearing woman's clothing and being treated as a woman by men. So many days I'd long a magic button I could push and change my body in an instant. But no such button exists and I stayed male.

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Consequently, I lived my life as males are expected. I dated and had sex with cis women and eventually married and fathered children. I played the part well and never gave anyone reason to think otherwise.

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Inside, though, I was hurting. There were times the sadness, the longing, became so intense that I wished I could die and be reborn, this time in the correct gender. I even came perilously close to performing the deed on several occasions, only to waver in the last second. I feared losing my soul more than suffering the pain I was doomed to endure in this life.

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As time went on, the internal pain became more intense. The discrepancy between the body I was forced to bear and the internal woman I knew I was, at times was overwhelming. Especially as I've seen the visibility of transgender people grow, for better and for worse. How I've wished it could have come years sooner, when I was in my teens and I may have been able to change the course of my life.

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So, in recent years, I gradually began edging toward outing my inner self. I met a transwoman in an online forum who became a close friend. We would communicate every day and talk about every aspect of our lives, both related to being transgender and the mundanities of everyday life. It was cathartic to us both. Eventually, she met someone and we lost contact, but she had provided me with a lifeline. Someone who had overcome the inner struggle I felt by transitioning. If only I was so brave!

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I've searched for other such transgender friends and it truth, it is very difficult. Few people have the patience or the trust in meeting another person online and sharing experiences. I get it, but it didn't make my aching to talk any less painful.

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Until recently. I began seeing transgender escorts.

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It is one of the realities of transgender life that some have decided to pursue sex work as a means of income. I totally respect them and their decisions, as the barriers put up by society have made it hard for many in the transgender community to openly live their lives while working in a "normal" work environment. Bigotry, discrimination, threats and violence accompany those willing to forgo stealth and walk among the judgmental populace. Hence, sex work is an alternative path, sometimes dictated by circumstance and sometimes through personal choice. Either way, I honor them and have come to learn much from them.

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A few months back I met one beautiful trans woman online. The sort of woman who IRL probably would never go out with me, but was willing to meet me for transactional sex. Not the way I would prefer to meet someone, but realistically, my only path.

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I won't get into the sexual details. They truly don't matter in the greater scheme. No more than they would whenever any personal story is being told. What truly mattered to me is what came after the sex.

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We talked and I tentatively opened up about certain aspects of my lifelong struggle. And she listened; non-judgemental, kindly. We parted that day and I felt an ease that I haven't felt in a long time.

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I've seen this woman several times since. Our second session involved another trans woman as well and details aside--they brought me to a point I had never experienced. For so long I had longed to be loved as a woman and they took me to that point and burst through. I can't put into words all the emotions I felt, nor the physical convulsions that accompanied the moment. I can tell you, though, that soon afterward I cried. Finally, I felt like a woman outwardly as well as internally!

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Each time since that day, our sessions have gotten more emotionally intimate. We talk about what clothing choices I should make, how I should go about overcoming my body dysmorphia to better fit my wishes. And while I'm totally aware that our relationship is still based upon monetary transactions, I'm OK with that. I would pay a therapist for their time, so why not a sex worker who performs the same task, and then some?

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I have a clear path now. I know at my age my journey won't be easy and likely fraught with obstacles and condemnation. But I'm good with that. It is the end point that matters. The point of self-actualization. And no greater need exists than that.