My watch read 5:30 a.m. my mind was full of anticipation of that day’s events. I was going to meet my surgeon, Dr. Surporn, in Comburi, Thailand, after landing in Bangkok.

Bangkok was a hot, musty-smelling city filled with Toyota trucks and motorcycles. Inside my van I met another pre-op transsexual on the same journey, and the bond was magical. Suddenly we were sisters about to share an experience that had the possibility of fulfilling our dream.

On the morning of my sexual-reassignment surgery, an angel (a post-opt transsexual from Holland) knocked on my door.

“Come in,” I said.

The door cracked open and I heard the familiar Dutch accent.

“Good morning, Jennifer. I hope you got some sleep.”

Seeking shelter from the air conditioner, I pulled the covers up over my semi-wet body.

“This is your big day,” she said.

I smiled over the edge of the blanket. “Sure is! I’m a little scared.”

“Don’t worry. Dr. Surporn knows what he’s doing.”

“I know, but I’m really tired. This is a long way to come,” I said.

“Don’t be upset,” she said. “Get out of bed for a minute.”

“Why?” I asked.

“We have to say goodbye to an old person with a proper hug.”

Reluctantly, I got out of bed and fell into her arms.

“It’s time to say goodbye to Richard,” she said as she kissed me on the lips and whispered in my ear: “Goodbye, Richard.”

When I awoke, I reached down between my legs and said “Unbelievable.”

About 10 days after surgery, I was sitting in a small van with another post-surgery woman from Texas on the way to the clinic for a checkup. We sat there staring at each other.

Suddenly, without warning, we fell into each other’s arms, tears spilling onto our breasts. Our sobs grabbed the attention of Natta, our nurse.

As she handed us tissues, we both said, “Finally, we feel whole.”

Victoria, my new friend, turned away and said, “Yes, now I can do the things that my heart was filled with for so many years.”

I joined in with, “Now my heart matches my body and my body matches my world.”

That moment was so elegant, but sadly the course of events for many post-op transsexuals doesn’t turn out so rosy.

The arrival home from sex-reassignment surgery (SRS) is full of excitement and disappointments. The hardest thing to adapt is your euphoric feeling inside. Some transsexuals lead extremely difficult journeys to this point. This road is littered with waste and destruction.

One of the most difficult dilemmas is family acceptance. It is extremely difficult for a wife or sibling to accept the concept that this person no longer has a penis. “He” or “Dad” has “cut it off.”

Throughout the relationship, even though loved ones may have experienced this person before surgery, suddenly he has “done it” and she can’t be “my dad” or “my husband” anymore. The loved one’s world becomes filled with anxiety separation, and the elated post-op woman is excommunicated from all family functions. It is the final straw.

On the flipside, there are many successful post-op women who melt back into their daily lives and routines, like our own Vickie Estrada, who is a landscape architect. And then there is me.

One of the more famous post-op women is Jennifer Boylan, the author of the highly-rated book She’s Not There. Hers is a tender story of transition followed by her wife’s acceptance of Jennifer as a woman.

Calpernia Addams, who starred in Soldier’s Girl, is another example. Her tragic love story centers on a solider who fell in love with her, only to end up the victim of a hate crime very similar to that Gwen Araujo experienced.

California’s Republican governor, Arnold Schwarzenegger, recently signed into law a bill that would make it more difficult for defendants to use the “gay panic” defense. The brutal 2002 murder of Araujo, transgender teen, spurred the new legislation, which is titled the Gwen Araujo Justice for Victims Act.

In my world, my ex-wife and son are absent. The pain for me is deep and difficult to keep buried. However, I have discovered the compassionate, empathetic person with a “Thai vagina” who is finally happy because I am able to be myself. I feel sad when my family members don’t realize that Jennifer and Richard is the same person. Still, there is a huge consolation in my life because now heart matches my body and my body matches my world.

Jennifer B. Miller is a member of the Transgender Community Coalition.