I agree with you Ken.. I was only giving my opinion based on facts.. If anyone cares to research it... it is a scientific fact there are no tests to determine if someone is trans gender or not... They can only tell you that they believe they are.. I only came into this tread for the discussions of spirit/soul gender.. and was pointing out that trans gender in my opinion is a physical thing not spiritual
I have nothing against John, but his post did not take into account the previous posts at hand. This is not a question about physical sex, but about gender identity. Aside from that there are genetic variations on physical sex -- these people are valid and face many challenges in their lives. John's post was dismissive and authoritarian in tone. I'm being honest here, maybe because this is a topic close to my heart, it was initially offensive.
The point of this post was to educate and to help others, but also to open a discussion on understanding what gender identity is, and how reincarnation comes into play (which my personal evidence and research suggests there is some correlation -- a correlation that can't be ignored).
What is apparent is that not everyone who gender switches between lives experiences significant gender dysphoria or even identifies strongly with their past gender, but there seems to be, at the very least, behaviours and feelings that are not atypical for their birth sex, especially during childhood. Most people go on to find a comfortable role in their birth sex, but may retain some behaviours.
For others it's not the case. Whether that is because they have significant male/female energy, or significant lives as either a male or female which then leaves an imprint remains to be seen. There are other factors, too. The hormones a foetus is exposed to in the womb does affect the brain structure -- they have found that girls exposed to more testosterone in the womb will have a more 'male' thinking brain, and boys exposed to less testosterone than average will be more empathetic and less systematic in their brain structure. Is this influenced by the incoming soul, much the same way that birthmarks mimic past life scars? Again, this is something I am exploring. It could have a further influence, as well as some environmental factors -- but environmental factors are actually very weak when considering the fuller picture. I'll put forward that the sheer experience of living in a body whose brain does not match the body -- that in itself is experience. Living a transgender lifetime is a valid existence as any other, and that should be recognised.
I'll bring up my own personal experiences again for comparison. My mother is a masculine woman & my sister, too. They are not typical women, both pretty assertive people, they do not wear makeup on a daily basis, their clothing is pretty neutral, looks are secondary -- they are not overtly feminine. My mother allowed me to be pretty much as I was as a child growing up, she never forced me to be either male or female, just 'me'. I was given girls and boys clothes, and toys, pretty much anything I wanted (apart from toy guns because my mom didn't agree w/ guns). One of my birthday cakes as a young child was a Stegosaurus. I was a tomboy. Despite my sister being also quite boyish, I noticed differences between me and her from a young age. From a very young age I knew I was a boy, just by comparing myself to the boys and girls in my class at school -- I knew there was something there that I couldn't put my finger on. I didn't have the words to really place what it was, but boys were like me, and girls were not, despite everyone in the world reading me as a girl. This was a secret buried deep inside me because I couldn't be a boy -- my biological sex told me I couldn't.
So I buried that information deep down in me, put a lid on it, taped it shut, put a lock on it, welded the edges. Despite that, as I grew up over the years, that repressed knowledge every so often would seep out. Maybe something would trigger it to come out. Playing with my boy cousins as a kid was a source of pure joy for me, I'd copy them and request whatever toys they had -- skateboards, scooters -- guns, I wanted a toy gun. I recall getting in my mom's car one day after spending the day with my cousins and sister, and my sister rebuking me 'You're such a boy! You play with all the boys toys, you're a boy.' Something along those lines. It hurt. For one she made me feel like a gigantic freak, but here she was trying to break open that knowledge deep inside me which must never get out at all costs.
For the most part I did a pretty good job at keeping it secret. It wasn't hard in the 90's... lots of kids where I lived were wearing the same sports clothes and trainers. My childhood was pretty happy.
When puberty hit things started going terribly wrong. I wont go into it all now, but I became severely withdrawn and agoraphobic and left school at the age of fourteen. I did not want to live this life at all costs. Make or break time -- I took up meditation. There was, if you like, a 'spiritual' opening. Knowledge of my past life during the Vietnam War dropped into my head, and it began to make sense to me. I became detached with my body and role in life, I had severely hated myself prior to that, and as a coping mechanism became detached from my body. My reasoning was: 'this body is a temporary vessel, I’ll be here in one blink of an eye, and gone the next'. I accepted my masculine self, but in general felt very ambivalent about my gender, didn't take any of it seriously any more. I'll be honest at that time, when I did read anything about transgender people a severe reaction of this thought would pop up: Why would they change their body when this life is temporary? Don't they understand? Why would they go to all that effort?
I met a guy, and we instantly connected. Despite sharing everything with him, I kept telling him, from the beginning, I was 'lying' to him about something. It would hit me in waves and fill me with depression. I tried talking to him about my sexuality, but it wasn't that. It was something bigger. I married that guy, and we had a child. It was during labour, which was excruciating as I insisted I give birth at home where I could be in control and not exposed. There was no pain relief for realising I was carrying internal pain for not having been born a man. I screamed out in mental pain more than physical pain. It was one of the most torturous events. Luckily, it was over fast. My body had changed from being androgynous into a woman's. A new level of detachment and self-hate ensured. I didn't know what to do with a kid. The first time I held my son, I had to get my partner to move him off me. I did not know what to do -- there was no natural bonding moment. Severe depression and PTSD symptoms followed, whenever I saw newborn babies out in the street I started to hyperventilate. Living in a scorching hot foreign country meant I spent most of my days indoors with a little child who I couldn't mother. I started to write to escape. In my writing, I was a man called 'Robert Brown'. That writing allowed me to get through those days.
This post is already too long, and too personal -- but if I don't speak out then who will? Along the years I knew I was lying to myself, to my husband, to everyone. Every single day where I had to wear a cloak and try to fit into a body and role that wasn't me made me feel like I was dying inside. No spark to life, every moment edged in a grey sadness, never feeling present or embodied. When I realised that my marriage would break down in a few years if I didn't open up, my past life memories of Terry (my past self) started coming through. With him that box I'd locked as a child also came open. It was actually during a conversation with Terry's son that it hit me like a freight train. I had been recalling with him how as a child I'd had frequent memories of his dad's Buick, how that car had been a frequent fantasy of mine. Maybe it was that recalling of that childhood feeling that also made me recall how I felt as a child before all the burying. I lay in bed with my eyes wide open for hours as all the feelings washed over me -- it was literally like being struck by a thunder bolt and I couldn't move. All that repressed feeling and energy came back to me. It was a moment where I realised who I truly am. My spirit, my energy and my identity.
I didn't automatically accept myself as transgender. I'm still on the questioning pathway, and still understanding myself, but I've been slowly over time exploring my male identity, taking baby steps. The repression in me was very deep, as well as the self-hate.
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Thanks to everyone who has posted here with sincerity and honesty about your own experiences.
I'm still carrying on the same relationships with the people in my life. My son, my mom and even my friend, who still treats me like a wife to an extent. The outside has changed, but everything keeps on truckin. 
