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?
Showing posts with label transition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transition. Show all posts
6.01.2009
4.09.2009
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
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
2.07.2009
Body Image
I've been thinking a lot about whether or not I'm "worthy" of being able to transition. This was on my mind a lot last night as I was having an interesting Friday night spent with one of my good friends and also the singer of my band. First, we did a workout video entitled "Ballywood Booty." This is a video that not many men, gay or straight, comfortable or uncomfortable, would ever do in their lives. Here is my favorite lesbian hanging out with Hemalayaa to give you an idea of what I spent my evening doing:
Of course, I couldn't just enjoy the ridiculousness of the workout, I had to analyze everything. I was wearing a ridiculous outfit (my gay.com muscle shirt and white gym shorts) and had a lot of fun. But while I was swerving my hips around (and getting a little hard watching Hemalayaa do the same), I was caught up in how much I would like to look like her and be able to move like that (and by that, of course, I mean a girl). I have often wished that I could just fit into the girl half of the world. I mean, I like girls. In general, I dislike guys. I never wanted to be a straight girl, just maybe a tomboy who was more in sync with her body. In fact, a lot about being a guy scares the crap out of me. The thing about that is, however, that as scary as it is...that's still how I feel I should be.
After the workout, I went upstairs and put my jeans back on and looked at myself in the mirror in the jeans and the muscle shirt. In my head, I would look smoking hot in that outfit. It's not too tight, but just enough to show off my body. I looked into the full length mirror, however, and that image was shattered. My (thankfully) small chest is just big enough to throw off the whole illusion and scream "LESBIAN." Later, we went to a show where there were a bunch of older, somewhat butch lesbians dancing and having a great time. There was a very cute couple. As I was looking at them, as cute as they were...that is not how I see myself in thirty years.
After my shower this morning (and after shimmying into my new underworks compression shirt), I put the muscle shirt back on. Suddenly, when I stood in front of the mirror, I looked like I thought I would (well, minus the sideburns, but that can come later). All these little moments are adding together to say that transitioning would be the right decision. I'm glad that it's not working the other way around.
The more I stay in here
The more it's not so clear
The more I stay in here
The more I disappear
As far as I have gone
I knew what side I'm on
But now I'm not so sure
The line begins to blur
Of course, I couldn't just enjoy the ridiculousness of the workout, I had to analyze everything. I was wearing a ridiculous outfit (my gay.com muscle shirt and white gym shorts) and had a lot of fun. But while I was swerving my hips around (and getting a little hard watching Hemalayaa do the same), I was caught up in how much I would like to look like her and be able to move like that (and by that, of course, I mean a girl). I have often wished that I could just fit into the girl half of the world. I mean, I like girls. In general, I dislike guys. I never wanted to be a straight girl, just maybe a tomboy who was more in sync with her body. In fact, a lot about being a guy scares the crap out of me. The thing about that is, however, that as scary as it is...that's still how I feel I should be.
After the workout, I went upstairs and put my jeans back on and looked at myself in the mirror in the jeans and the muscle shirt. In my head, I would look smoking hot in that outfit. It's not too tight, but just enough to show off my body. I looked into the full length mirror, however, and that image was shattered. My (thankfully) small chest is just big enough to throw off the whole illusion and scream "LESBIAN." Later, we went to a show where there were a bunch of older, somewhat butch lesbians dancing and having a great time. There was a very cute couple. As I was looking at them, as cute as they were...that is not how I see myself in thirty years.
After my shower this morning (and after shimmying into my new underworks compression shirt), I put the muscle shirt back on. Suddenly, when I stood in front of the mirror, I looked like I thought I would (well, minus the sideburns, but that can come later). All these little moments are adding together to say that transitioning would be the right decision. I'm glad that it's not working the other way around.
The more I stay in here
The more it's not so clear
The more I stay in here
The more I disappear
As far as I have gone
I knew what side I'm on
But now I'm not so sure
The line begins to blur
2.04.2009
Same Name, Different Pronouns
As I try again my hand at this whole blogging thing...I thought I'd update from last time.
The most recent post was about how I had started going by Ryan in April. That went amazingly well. A little too well, one might suppose, as it forced me to deal with so many things. Mainly, that it suddenly became completely unbearable to continue to use female pronouns with myself. Evey "her" and "she" grated on my ears like an obvious absurdity. About two months ago, I started using male pronouns with a couple close friends and that very quickly spread like wildfire. After my initial test period and acclamation (getting over the "who the hell is 'he'?"), I was suddenly so much more comfortable that I came out to my college activist group and the lgbt discussion group. Also, I got an internship at an lgbt organization, and immediately started going by male pronouns. Almost too quickly (I probably should have waited a little bit for this, but too late now) I came out to my parents.
I guess I should explain that besides just switching pronouns, I more or less decided to transition. It is something I only touched on briefly in this blog and usually with great trepidation, but it is something that I had slowly come to accept as an eventuality in my life. The trick to it being an eventuality is that eventually I would have to deal with it.
A trip to the ABC store is what triggered the whole avalanche of thought processes. I just wanted to buy some rum to make truffles (although those truffles never got made...), so I picked up a bottle and got in line. The cashier said "I can help you here, sir," and I flinched and walked up to the counter. I normally would have been ecstatic to be sir'd, but in a situation where someone is about to look at my license, I would rather it didn't happen. I showed him my ID (with long hair and all), and he didn't believe it was me and said as much. I grabbed my student ID and handed that to him too. In the process, I said five words, and he suddenly "realized" I was a girl. He proceeded to give me a long-ass explanation, that quite frankly, I've since forgotten because it was so aggravating, as to how exactly he knew I was a girl and pointed out all my features that told him.
I suddenly realized that I just didn't want to be a girl anymore.
I facebook messaged a friend of mine and we got together to talk over some coffee. He asked me what it was that was keeping me back from transitioning and I realized, besides fear, nothing. There was nothing in being a girl that I wanted to hold onto. I had coffee with another friend a week or so later and he had pretty much the same thing to say. Over the terms of the next couple of weeks (full of sleepless nights), I realized that it was something that I could see myself doing. That I could see myself being happier as. That I could see my future in a much clearer picture.
In my head, I always imagined myself male. It was not that it was a conscious choice, but more the subconscious knowledge that I could not be an older woman. The word "woman" makes me sick to my stomach as it is. That is NOT me.
Today, I became frustrated with my counselor. I am seeing him through University Counseling Services. I think I am one of his first transgendered patients. I like him overall, although I always end up defensive when talking about anyone but myself. Like when I talk about the conflict with my family in high school, he always points out what was wrong with how they acted. Clearly, I know he is right, but I feel like I should justify their actions. I became frustrated today because he very suddenly became alarmed that I was moving too fast. Firstly, I don't need him to be alarmed about how fast I'm moving because I already thought of that. It is alarming me. Everything is happening too fast to process, but at this point, I've done everything I'm going to do for like six months at least. I have tried to explain to him the complexities of my gender identity. He seems stuck on the fact that I don't identify 100% male. That I said in a perfect world, I wouldn't have to choose. I know he is just trying to make sure that I don't make poor decisions, but at the same time, it seems like he is trying to get me to change my mind.
I haven't touched upon sex with him, which I suppose would make a big difference. I also realized as I read back on this blog, that I have gotten increasingly uncomfortable with my body as I become more entrenched in figuring out my gender identity. I still agree with genderqueer, but there is more to it. This is why I feel like that humurous identity of "lumberjack" fits me so well. Lumberjack is inherently masculine. It involves flannel, boots, and facial hair, but our infused meaning into it is an element of gender bending. I will never fit cleanly into a box, but I want to at least make an attempt to find a box that I am physically and mentally most comfortable in.
In my counseling sessions (I hate the word therapy), I have expressed an exhaustion with fighting the world. It is true. I am tired of fighting. Obviously, that is the wrong reason to change my body in irreversible ways. But that is only half the story. I wouldn't be quite as tired if I didn't feel like I were fighting for something that wasn't true. It's not that I don't fit into society's idea of "girl," it's that I flat out am not a girl. Am I 100% boy? I don't think so, but I'm some percent.
I should have facial hair. I should have a deeper voice. I should have a flat chest. I should have a penis. When I look in the mirror or at my body, these things are not there and it makes me sad.
I am tired. I am tired of convincing myself that my body is the one that I am okay with.
But I know that someday,
someday, I'll offer up
a song I was made to play
until even the mocking birds
don't know what to say
The most recent post was about how I had started going by Ryan in April. That went amazingly well. A little too well, one might suppose, as it forced me to deal with so many things. Mainly, that it suddenly became completely unbearable to continue to use female pronouns with myself. Evey "her" and "she" grated on my ears like an obvious absurdity. About two months ago, I started using male pronouns with a couple close friends and that very quickly spread like wildfire. After my initial test period and acclamation (getting over the "who the hell is 'he'?"), I was suddenly so much more comfortable that I came out to my college activist group and the lgbt discussion group. Also, I got an internship at an lgbt organization, and immediately started going by male pronouns. Almost too quickly (I probably should have waited a little bit for this, but too late now) I came out to my parents.
I guess I should explain that besides just switching pronouns, I more or less decided to transition. It is something I only touched on briefly in this blog and usually with great trepidation, but it is something that I had slowly come to accept as an eventuality in my life. The trick to it being an eventuality is that eventually I would have to deal with it.
A trip to the ABC store is what triggered the whole avalanche of thought processes. I just wanted to buy some rum to make truffles (although those truffles never got made...), so I picked up a bottle and got in line. The cashier said "I can help you here, sir," and I flinched and walked up to the counter. I normally would have been ecstatic to be sir'd, but in a situation where someone is about to look at my license, I would rather it didn't happen. I showed him my ID (with long hair and all), and he didn't believe it was me and said as much. I grabbed my student ID and handed that to him too. In the process, I said five words, and he suddenly "realized" I was a girl. He proceeded to give me a long-ass explanation, that quite frankly, I've since forgotten because it was so aggravating, as to how exactly he knew I was a girl and pointed out all my features that told him.
I suddenly realized that I just didn't want to be a girl anymore.
I facebook messaged a friend of mine and we got together to talk over some coffee. He asked me what it was that was keeping me back from transitioning and I realized, besides fear, nothing. There was nothing in being a girl that I wanted to hold onto. I had coffee with another friend a week or so later and he had pretty much the same thing to say. Over the terms of the next couple of weeks (full of sleepless nights), I realized that it was something that I could see myself doing. That I could see myself being happier as. That I could see my future in a much clearer picture.
In my head, I always imagined myself male. It was not that it was a conscious choice, but more the subconscious knowledge that I could not be an older woman. The word "woman" makes me sick to my stomach as it is. That is NOT me.
Today, I became frustrated with my counselor. I am seeing him through University Counseling Services. I think I am one of his first transgendered patients. I like him overall, although I always end up defensive when talking about anyone but myself. Like when I talk about the conflict with my family in high school, he always points out what was wrong with how they acted. Clearly, I know he is right, but I feel like I should justify their actions. I became frustrated today because he very suddenly became alarmed that I was moving too fast. Firstly, I don't need him to be alarmed about how fast I'm moving because I already thought of that. It is alarming me. Everything is happening too fast to process, but at this point, I've done everything I'm going to do for like six months at least. I have tried to explain to him the complexities of my gender identity. He seems stuck on the fact that I don't identify 100% male. That I said in a perfect world, I wouldn't have to choose. I know he is just trying to make sure that I don't make poor decisions, but at the same time, it seems like he is trying to get me to change my mind.
I haven't touched upon sex with him, which I suppose would make a big difference. I also realized as I read back on this blog, that I have gotten increasingly uncomfortable with my body as I become more entrenched in figuring out my gender identity. I still agree with genderqueer, but there is more to it. This is why I feel like that humurous identity of "lumberjack" fits me so well. Lumberjack is inherently masculine. It involves flannel, boots, and facial hair, but our infused meaning into it is an element of gender bending. I will never fit cleanly into a box, but I want to at least make an attempt to find a box that I am physically and mentally most comfortable in.
In my counseling sessions (I hate the word therapy), I have expressed an exhaustion with fighting the world. It is true. I am tired of fighting. Obviously, that is the wrong reason to change my body in irreversible ways. But that is only half the story. I wouldn't be quite as tired if I didn't feel like I were fighting for something that wasn't true. It's not that I don't fit into society's idea of "girl," it's that I flat out am not a girl. Am I 100% boy? I don't think so, but I'm some percent.
I should have facial hair. I should have a deeper voice. I should have a flat chest. I should have a penis. When I look in the mirror or at my body, these things are not there and it makes me sad.
I am tired. I am tired of convincing myself that my body is the one that I am okay with.
But I know that someday,
someday, I'll offer up
a song I was made to play
until even the mocking birds
don't know what to say
6.22.2006
Always on My Mind
I cannot stop thinking about it. I have never had these issues stay in my head so long. I think a lot of it has to do with me being home for the summer and not having much other stuff to do than sit and think.
Just now, I was asleep for like six hours and I kept waking up. I was so restless because it was all I could think about.
I do not want to think about it anymore!!! I know where I stand. I think. I like my body. I really do...ok, so a lot of the time I wish I was male below the waste but that is the one thing that I cannot do anything about! I also know that I want to pass.
I want to be a fucking teacher. I cannot be a teacher if I am female bodied passing for male. This is hell. Why does the world suck? I want to teach, but I do not think that I will be able to. I do not know how I am going to deal with this. It keeps pressing closer and closer.
Do I change my name? I like Felicia. It is so overtly feminine. I like Ryan a lot. It is my middle name after all.
How would I tell my parents? I guess I do need to get some input from experienced people. I am so tired of my mother being "disappointed" in me. This is just one more thing. Now I never will turn out to be her darling little girl. It was bad enough I had to be lesbian. It would be bad enough I wanted to be a boy. Something in between? Never.
I do not think that even if I transitioned I could ever be a high school teacher. Nobody would want some freak teaching their kids. I would have had to do it already. I would have to at least do it before I get out of college, get all the legal stuff done, make sure that it would say Ryan on my diploma. Make sure that they thought I was male my whole life.
I cannot pass for male. I am too feminine. Everyone would just think I was a gay guy. It would scream it on my resume. Even if I had a beard, everyone would know. I giggle too much. There's too much of the valley girl left in my system. I guess the male horomones would quelch my inner valley girl.
Why did I have to want to be a teacher? I do have a small ambition to be a librarian at the Library of Congress now, though. Or do youth outreach work. If I worked somewhere like NOVAM, I would be accepted. Hopefully.
Maybe I need to talk to someone. I think I know who I want to talk to if I decide to talk to someone.
I apologize for frantic jumpiness.
"Helpless hysteria
A false sense of urgency
Trapped in my phobia
Possessed by anxiety
Run
Try to hide
Overwhelmed by this complex delirium"
Just now, I was asleep for like six hours and I kept waking up. I was so restless because it was all I could think about.
I do not want to think about it anymore!!! I know where I stand. I think. I like my body. I really do...ok, so a lot of the time I wish I was male below the waste but that is the one thing that I cannot do anything about! I also know that I want to pass.
I want to be a fucking teacher. I cannot be a teacher if I am female bodied passing for male. This is hell. Why does the world suck? I want to teach, but I do not think that I will be able to. I do not know how I am going to deal with this. It keeps pressing closer and closer.
Do I change my name? I like Felicia. It is so overtly feminine. I like Ryan a lot. It is my middle name after all.
How would I tell my parents? I guess I do need to get some input from experienced people. I am so tired of my mother being "disappointed" in me. This is just one more thing. Now I never will turn out to be her darling little girl. It was bad enough I had to be lesbian. It would be bad enough I wanted to be a boy. Something in between? Never.
I do not think that even if I transitioned I could ever be a high school teacher. Nobody would want some freak teaching their kids. I would have had to do it already. I would have to at least do it before I get out of college, get all the legal stuff done, make sure that it would say Ryan on my diploma. Make sure that they thought I was male my whole life.
I cannot pass for male. I am too feminine. Everyone would just think I was a gay guy. It would scream it on my resume. Even if I had a beard, everyone would know. I giggle too much. There's too much of the valley girl left in my system. I guess the male horomones would quelch my inner valley girl.
Why did I have to want to be a teacher? I do have a small ambition to be a librarian at the Library of Congress now, though. Or do youth outreach work. If I worked somewhere like NOVAM, I would be accepted. Hopefully.
Maybe I need to talk to someone. I think I know who I want to talk to if I decide to talk to someone.
I apologize for frantic jumpiness.
"Helpless hysteria
A false sense of urgency
Trapped in my phobia
Possessed by anxiety
Run
Try to hide
Overwhelmed by this complex delirium"
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