Shorter Posts...

I've been on T for six months now. It's crazy that I'm passing all the time now at work and most of the time at school. I was in Boston today and every single person addressed me as sir. It was kind of surreal. Anyway, I have a lot of random thoughts but I haven't had much time to compose a topic to write about even though I've been thinking about it for a while.

Anyway, I've been working on this paper about Gender Identity Disorder in children and I came across the quote that really stuck out because it reminded me of, well...me!

Jonah was 2 when his father, Joel, first realized that no amount of enthusiasm could persuade his child to play with balls. Trucks languished untouched. Fire engines gathered dust. Joel says Jonah much preferred girl toys, even his stuffed animals were female.

"Like, I would always say, 'What's that guy's name?' and the response would always be, 'Oh, she's bunny, she's, you know, this or that,'" Joel says. (link)

Every single one of my stuffed animals was a boy. Even my beloved Chuck, who is a bunny wearing pink plaid and used to have make-up before it was loved off. There was one that I acquired later in my childhood (the ripe old age of 10...) that I really wanted. She was a big huge rabbit and had a huge bow on one ear. I had no choice, I couldn't make her a boy because of that bow. Maybe my parents influenced that, I'm not sure.

It is always revolutionary to me when a part of my story falls into the "typical trans narrative." Like anyone, I often question if I'm really trans enough. As my gender variantness is moving from almost total androgyny to effeminate guy, it is sometimes hard to deal with. I'm so used to sticking out and not fitting in. But at the same time, I am so undeniably comfortable when I used to be so undeniably uncomfortable I can't help but know that I'm walking the right path.

Changing Times

Well, that doctor's appointment didn't work out. Neither did the engagement. The boyfriend, however, did. And continues to work out.

I did, however, start T the beginning of September. My singing voice, as a I pondered about earlier, is holding up. I've currently got the range of a baritone and am enjoying figuring things out. Every time I get used to something, my voice changes again. But that's okay. I really like that my voice is no longer as much of a huge obstacle to keep me from passing.

I've got a lot more facial hair (or fuzz, as the case may be) than I expected. Granted, it is mostly on my neck. I've got almost no mustache but some sideburns are starting to come in. And they are growing down from my hair which makes me really happy. I have some stray dark hairs high up on my cheeks so I can only assume that means when it finally gets here, my beard will be fucking awesome. There's a lot more hair on the rest of my body. My stomach is getting pretty furry and it's really weird to look down and see the hair on my arms. And downstairs...well...things are...developing ;)

The single most jarring thing has been the increase/change in sex drive. It really has become a constant, driving need. Which is all well and good if I'm good or if the boyfriend is in town to help out. But if I'm unhappy (and with everything else going on my life, that's far more often than I'd like to admit), or anything is the least bit off, it is kind of a disaster. Sex only magnifies the body issues I have.

I had more to say right now, but then I accidentally deleted it. I'll get back to this later.

T

There are a lot of things going on in my brain today. I've just moved up to live with the girlfriend, now fiance. I suppose I can give her a name, or a letter, now - Z. Moving up here meant leaving the new addition to my love life, the boyfriend, (let's give him a letter now) A. I get to spend a lot of time by myself here, as I don't have (m)any friends. I'm only here for 12 days before I got on an adventure to my parents' and then visit the boy and go to a wedding. Then I'm back and I think it's time for me to make some friends.

I have been looking forward to this summer for a long time for a number of reasons. The one relevant to this blog is that it was my goal date to start T. In order to achieve that goal, I did some research and made an appointment with a doctor to, hopefully, get a prescription for T. The doctor, according to the Mass TPC's resources, does not ask for a letter or anything. I'm fairly certain I could procure a letter if necessary, but not having to think about it is nice, too. Now that I have an appointment, I am suddenly overwhelmed with anxiety.

I guess the positive is that I am getting better at dealing with my anxiety. I realize that most of it is ridiculousness. The rest of it is a fear of the unknown. There is a tiny part that is concerned that I am making the wrong choice.

I have learned a lot of things about myself the past couple of months as I've been doing a lot of gender related introspection. One is that my gender is very static. Two is that I am a lot more male than I think I give myself credit for. Or a lot less female. One or the other. I know that the absence of one does not necessarily indicate the presence of the other.

I was talking the other day how sometimes I feel like I'm playing pretend. Like soon the lights will come on and I will be forced back to being a girl. When I was talking, I had the realization that I don't think I could go back to being a girl. Not after slowly learning to feel comfortable in my own skin.

And T is just another step. For months, I have been thinking, "When I start T," "When my voice changes," "When I grow facial hair," or "When acne takes over my life." All of those things have been knowing that it was something that was GOING to happen. Yet now that it is that much closer...I am like "wait, do I want this to happen?"

I will let you all know how Thursday goes. Part of me just can't believe it. I've been doing a lot of things that my brain hasn't caught up with yet.


_{Let's get these teen hearts beating. Faster, faster
So testosterone boys and harlequin girls,
Will you dance to this beat, and hold a lover close?}

Some Rambling

Normally I like to be all methodical and set out with a topic in mind. I don't have one here, so forgive me.

I have a lot of errant thoughts running around in my head. It seems like ages ago I wrote that Gender Lineage. It was little over a week ago. I have settled into my life with male pronouns well. I am finally getting to the point where I am comfortable talking about myself in the third person with male pronouns, but I struggle with telling stories of when I was "still" a girl. I stammer as I decide whether changing the name is useful or hurtful to the story. Changing pronouns in the story is nearly impossible.

I struggle with the idea that no one actually sees me as male, except for my trans friends who are used to dealing with a conflicting body and gender presentation. There is only one major person in my life who has known me ONLY as Ryan and ONLY as he. I am anxious to move where at least everyone will know me only as Ryan. That previous statement was a lie. There are a lot of people who I've met this semester who theoretically know me only as Ryan and as he but nearly everyone in my life is terrible at pronouns. Yet, how can I expect anyone else to be good at pronouns when I am terrible at them myself. Having spent an increased amount of time with my trans friends lately, however, I am finally starting to get more comfortable as opposed to self conscious.

I never used to think my chest was a problem. Then I started binding regularly. At an event last week where I was wearing a suit (for the first time while binding), I was amazed at my reflection. It is so relieving to see myself in the mirror that way. I like the pictures of me that get put up on the internet now. If I am binding, I don't look at the pictures and search for the curve of my boobs. Well, I do. But it's not there. I also like that it pulls in my hips some, which were also annoying. When I went out clubbing last night, I was binding under a muscle shirt. Despite being terribly hot, it felt so good. I am NEVER comfortable in a tight shirt, let alone a tank-toppy one. This week, remembering the terrible hot sweatiness that was wearing my binder, I opted for the muscle shirt over a sports bra. I couldn't stand looking at myself in the mirror at the club. I think any of my return trips will involve a binder...

I cannot wait to start T. I am hoping to start it at the beginning of June. I hope that my voice begins to change by the time I start school. That would be ideal, although it probably won't work out that way.

I am worried about losing my singing voice. Which is stupid, because right now I hate my singing voice because, well, it's so damn feminine. I am curious to see where my new range will fall.

The idea of top surgery scares the bejesus out of me. And if you know me, I don't ever say things like "bejesus." The thing that is killing me is that I know that I could probably pay for my transition if I weren't continuing on with school. I know that that is not a reason to stop going to school and, in fact, continuing onto school is one of the few things keeping me sane. I cannot imagine transitioning in the workplace, especially as a teacher.

I think that is all that is on my mind right now.


_{Don't suppose I'll ever know
What it means to be a man
Something I can't change
I'll live around it}