From a boy to a man.

Today is my birthday. Last year I celebrated it as Tyler for the first time. Then it was as a boy. Today it is as a man. I had not expected it to be this soon but I feel I am ready. Someone called me a young boy a few weeks ago and it felt wrong. A year ago I would have agreed but not anymore. I am a man. This feels right. 

My body agrees with testosterone in ways I had not imagined. Of course, you hope for the best, but I always expect the worst. That way things can only turn out better. I have been on testosterone for 7 weeks now. My muscles are growing, my fat is melting. My voice is still lowering and starting to develop a hum. I heard from people that it should drop a bit extra after about 10 weeks. I really hope it does. I would love a deep voice. I think it would suit me, a warm, deep sound. People have been noticing the hair on my chin. That is something I really hadn't expected to happen so soon. The past few days it has actually been so obvious that I had decided I would shave for my birthday. So this morning I did. I was amazed at the amount of hair that came off. Not only on my chin and upper lip but also my cheeks and even my throat. If it keeps growing like this I might even have a full beard by my next birthday. I know it's a bit much to hope for but one can dream. 

On the down side, the thing I was worried about is happening. The skin on my stomach, where I rub the gel, is starting to get irritated at last. It is turning red and there is a burning sensation. Since things are moving so insanely fast I have decided to reduce the gel from 50 mg to 40 mg and rub it on my shoulders for a while to give my stomach some rest. After a while I will start alternating. Hopefully that will help. If I have to I can also rub it on my legs every now and then, if they don't get too hairy. A week from now I will get the results of my blood tests. To be honest, with the noticeable effects, I don't really care what the blood work says. I'm getting the changes I want.

One of the best things is that strangers all assume that I am a guy. It's still a bit uncomfortable with the moobs and that does seem to confuse people a bit some times but in general they have set the default at male. That's how they treat me. That's what they call me. It feels really good. I feel relieved. There is less need for me to prove that I am a guy. That way people can treat me as who I am instead of me needing to explain things and confusing people. As much as I enjoy the changes I would really like to get on with my life. It looks like that will be possible really soon. 

So what's the plan, Batman? Chest surgery in spring, hopefully. But other then that? What do I want to do this year? To be honest, I'm not really sure. I'm a member of the board of the local COC which takes up quite a bit of time. We have some big plans for the gallery as well. But that's all work. What about me? I don't know. I have been trying to paint more again lately because I have an exhibition at the end of August. I would really like to have more time in general to paint. After 2 months of not having time for Kung Fu I started training again and really enjoy it. That is something I would like to have more time for as well. I need to start making some long term plans. In 5 years I will be 40. It's about time I get my sh*t together. At least I have nothing holding me back now. About time.

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Who's that guy?

Who's that guy? That's what a friend at the gym wondered looking through the window to check who was teaching the BodyPump. She hadn't seen me in about 2 weeks and had trouble recognizing me from that distance. Of course, this made me smile. The changes in your body are very gradual and because I carry around my own body all the time it's hard for me to notice the changes. But other people do. I have been getting compliments at the gyms about my growth. I've even heard people say my face is changing already. And my voice even more then before.

People had told me not to expect anything to happen the first month. I've been on testosterone for less then 6 weeks now and even I am seeing the changes. Today I put on an old girl shirt size S for Kung Fu training. My shoulders barely fit and the shirt was clearly way too small. The shirts I had bought a while ago that I was actually swimming in back then now fit just fine. I'm growing, big time. And with the physical growth comes the mental growth. I feel more secure, more myself. My head is calmer, more clear. I am more focused and less stressed. Things bother me less. I am more confident about myself and my future. I have more energy. I wake up in the morning and feel rested. I know I actually should be getting more sleep and still have too much on my plate, but I'm not worried. I know I can handle it and things will clear up in not too long. Life is great.

Can you feel a but coming? There usually is one. The Dutch public transport system works with personal chip cards. They have your name, gender and photo on it. Last Monday I was asked for my card on the train. And then I was asked for my ID. The photo on my driver's licence is just as girly as the one on my PT chip card. So I ended up explaining I was trans on the train. It was pretty quiet and no one was paying us any attention so I wasn't bothered about it at that point. I thought it was somewhat funny and even a bit happy that I don't look like that old me anymore. But I am also aware that it could have gotten ugly. Being outed like that in public is nothing to take lightly. I am going to call and see if I can change my chip card. I won't be able to change my driver's licence until I can change my passport and that's going to take a while. 

So there are good things happening and, well, less good things. Things are changing and not everything changes as gradually and effortless as the flimsy hairs that are sprouting on my chin (they are very very flimsy but I swear, they weren't there before!!). It's a strange phase to be in. There are little victories all the time. Every time someone ticks the M box, sometimes literally like the guy at the store where I bought my laptop, mostly just mentally, it makes me feel more secure. But every time someone ticks F, mostly either because I haven't had chest surgery yet and it's too hot for a proper binder right now, or because they have known me as female for some time, it hurts. And every time that happens it hurts even more because I am moving on. I am leaving that part of me behind. It's my past self. It's not who I am today and not how I see myself in the future. There is still so much paper work that needs to be done and a lot of it can not be done yet. It will take time. But at least things are changing, something is happening. I am enjoying the ride best I can and await every little change with anticipation. The best is yet to come.

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Closing doors.

It has been 4 weeks since I started on testosterone. Changes are slow and gradual. I got measured at the gym and according to those scales I have gained 1.4 Kg of muscle and lost 0.6 Kg of fat. That's an insane amount. At least, the muscle is. I was really surprised by that. I had noticed training was getting easier and I have added more weight for most of my training but this is a lot more then I had expected. This is an extra reason to keep an eye on what I am eating and I'm glad I started the Renegade program a bit over a week ago. This means intermittent fasting, loads of veggies and lots of protein in what ever form I see fit. So I have decided eating bacon is allowed. Since I am doing a mayor physical renovation anyway I figured I might as well build myself up from the ground. I can't wait to see where I am a year from now. I have decided I shall look awesome. 

But this renovation doesn't just apply to my body. It goes for the upper chamber as well. The mind. I am taking a new look at how my life is constructed at the moment. Which things do I want to keep, which need to be replaced and what can go. Which things give me energy? What drains me? And why? This is also a slow process and is something that happens gradually. It's impossible to just sit down and make an inventory of everything you do and how you feel about it. So sometimes things happen when you don't expect them. You may tend to wander into a room to find the space uncomfortable to a degree you just want to get out as soon as possible. Or you may even find the door closed. 

Last Saturday we had drag night at the trans café here in Leiden. So of course, being a boy now, I had to go dressed as a girl, right? Right. I had been dreading that evening for weeks. Pretty much as soon as the idea was agreed upon. I postponed deciding what to wear until the last moment. I had already told people I wasn't planning on shaving my legs so a skirt was not an option. Somehow, that door had closed on me. I wore something simple, though all clearly girl's clothing, and a little make up. I used to be able to walk on heels just fine, with hip sway and all. This time I just couldn't get into it and the high heels made me walk awkwardly. I felt uncomfortable all evening. It felt as if I was stuck behind a glass wall and couldn't connect to anything. It puzzled me at first, because this was how I had dressed for years. Once home I shook off those clothes as quickly as possible. I stripped off that mask I used to wear and was no longer used to. That's when I realized how miserable I had been all those years, being stuck behind that mask, unable to get out, unable to be myself. Every now and then I still wonder, wouldn't it be easier to just fit in? But once again it has been confirmed, that door has closed. I can't go back. Not even for an evening. Maybe one day I will be able to wear something like that again. But only if it doesn't compromise my masculinity. Now it still does and it's too uncomfortable still. You live you learn.

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I want to break free.

Next Saturday the Trans*café is drag themed so I went looking for one of my favourite old skirts. Turns out I have thrown it out already. I still have a bunch of other stuff from when I was trying to be a girl. Going through them was strange. I felt that old me, the girl alter ego that I had developed over the years, rear her head again. And for a moment I caught myself thinking: wouldn't it be easier to go back? 

Last weekend at the market I got called sir a bunch of times. I seem to be more and more convincing to people who don't know me. When I walk down the street I feel more confident. I'm starting to figure out how I want to present myself, how I want to dress and what kind of vibe I want to send out to people. There is so much more then just the macho and the dandy after all. But I'm still stuck with this unfinished body. I'm still doing mayor reconstruction work here. I'm not finished and in a way I know that I never really will be. Will it be enough though? That is the question. Will it be enough to be worth it. 

In some ways it would be easier to go back and pretend I never did this. I wouldn't have to go through heavy surgery. I wouldn't have to take hormones the rest of my life. I wouldn't have to explain anything any more. And I did have fun playing a girl sometimes. When I look at some of the shoes and skirts I still have it's hard to deny. Plus, life was much simpler. Expectations were lower. The rest of the world mainly had different expectations but personally I had lower expectations. I could never do the things I really wanted to do, be the person I really wanted to be, because I was a girl. Or at least, looked like one and was treated like one. 

Right now I'm tired. I have been tired for quite a while now. I will be an official member of the board at the LGBT organization next week. The gallery still needs a lot of work, mostly paper work, which is my favorite. I have more BodyPump hours. I have to prepare for my exhibition end of August. Oh, and I'm in transition. I keep forgetting that's something I also 'do'. Plus, I have a social life which I'm not willing to sacrifice. So, lost of work, with lots of responsibility and lots of expectations and lots of people all staring at me. On days like this I miss being a girl and being able to hide behind that, using that as an excuse to do nothing with my life. I could really use a holiday. 

But, could I go back? Do I really want to? Hell no. I don't want to be my own victim. All the things I do are things I believe in. I can't go back. These days, when I look in the mirror, I'm not just checking the bits I have to check (do I have toothpaste on my face?) but I'm looking for myself. I'm trying to find a glimpse of the real me. And yes, there it is. It's not really in my face itself yet. But it is in my eyes. I can see myself staring back at me, trying to break free. 

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