Recovering from surgery: week 6.

Officially it takes 6 weeks to recover from surgery so this was my last week. Honestly it felt like there wasn't much left to do. I already felt fit and everything. I just used the recovery as an excuse not to ride a bike. I don't like biking. If I could I would just walk everything. But now I don't have any excuses any more. I really have recovered.

My doctor told me I wasn't allowed to lift anything heavier then 3Kg per arm. I really tried to stick to that. I really did. But it's more like a guideline anyway. People heal at different speeds and my starting strength was a bit higher then average anyway. So on Monday, 3 days before my recovery officially ended, I went to the gym for a BodyPump class. As an instructor I used to push quite a bit of weight but not having done this training in 6 months plus the surgery I had to go all the way back to beginner's weights. This did mean 3.5Kg per side for the chest and back track but I figured it would be fine. I managed but to be honest it was a bit of a shock. Mostly for my legs. They started shaking during the back track (number 4) and didn't really stop. I was glad we didn't have to do lunges that day. My legs and biceps were sore for 4 days. The rest wasn't too bad. And what's the best thing for muscle soreness? You got it! Thursday I hit the gym again. Since I had officially hit the 6 week marker I decided I could up the weights for the chest and back by one kilo and this felt much better already. I really missed it. My body had missed it. I'm only slightly sore now, hardly at all. It seems like my body got the message: we're moving again. And my body likes it.

I'm not sure if it's because I started training again or if it's because all the oestrogen is completely gone now, but the past few days I seem to be getting the same effect I did when I just started hormones: I'm tired, hungry and horny. I feel like 16 yet again. I hope this will help me get back into shape sooner. When I first started I was able to built a lot of muscle in a short period of time. It would be great if I could do that again. Even though I am quite content with the scars at the moment, I'm less happy with the overall shape of my body right now. The scars are still fresh and they well get less hard and red eventually. I know it takes time and when I look at some of my old scars I have nothing to worry about. But the shape of my body is something I will need to fix myself. I'll keep on tracking my physical process on tumblr.

As far as my transition goes all that is left now is paperwork. I can pick up my new passport on Monday and then I can start changing my names and gender everywhere. I'm planning a little trip with a friend of mine in November, just to have crossed the border with my new passport. It felt like I was stuck here for ages. It will be so good to be able to spread my wings and celebrate my regained freedom.

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Oh my... hair!

When you start testosterone treatment several things tend to happen. I already told you about how my body composition and my voice changed. One of the things most people ask me when they haven't seen me for a while is: do you have a beard yet? This is actually a question I don't mind so much as I would really like to have a nice big beard. There is one thing that people usually don't realize though. When you start using testosterone you get more hair, period. Like, everywhere! And this was something I wasn't looking forward to at all. I didn't want to get hairy all over. Luckily this is something that happens gradually. You don't go to bed smooth and wake up a bear the next morning. It's not like Kafka's beetle. This means you have time to get used to it. Opinions among transmen vary. Some really dislike the extra hair but it seems like a lot of them are quite eager for it. I'm guessing this has to do with personal taste for some part, but probably also with passability. My spelling checker doesn't think that's a word. I wish it was right.

Now what's weird about this? If you google Men's health cover you might notice something. They are all as smooth as a baby's bottom. And Men's Health is the standard of how a guy should look, right? Then why do all these transguys want to be hairy?


It does seem that body hair on a man is coming back. Maybe it started with the movember movement. I'm not sure. Maybe it's the bear scene that is becoming more prominent. They had their own Bear Pride in Amsterdam this year for the first time which I think is awesome.


And then I head about the Don't Risk Dudeness ads by Feet.

The campaign was taken down rather quickly because it was deemed sexist. And right they were. But it did give me some idea of why a lot of transguys are comparing how much hair they have. Whether you like body hair or not, one thing is certain: it's not feminine. And therefor it must be masculine. And masculine is good.

It took me a while to realize I see it the same way. I used to shave absolutely everything. I like the smooth feeling of it, true. But mostly it was because I was afraid people would label me as masculine. I was afraid of getting caught. When you're in an unclear state during your transition you cling onto every little thing you can to make clear to the world what you are. So you grow hair anywhere you can, to ensure dudeness.

Right now I only shave my face. Not very often though. It will be a while before I will be able to grow a proper beard. Things are happening though. I'm not sure how hairy the rest of my body will become. It's hairier then before, that's for sure. But I'm not a bear. Not yet anyway. There is no way to tell if I ever will be until I am. Because I used to be so afraid of body hair it took me a while to be okay with it. I am now. I don't really care either way. If it grows, it grows. If it doesn't. it doesn't. There is nothing I can do about it anyway. I could shave again but I totally understand now why part time drag queens often don't shave. Male hair is much thicker and nastier and there is more of it. And really, I can't be bothered. I'm fine the way I am. It's my body and I am getting more and more comfortable in it now it can finally do what it really wants to do. And if it wants to be fuzzy, then let it be fuzzy. If it doesn't, then that's fine too.

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I had my meeting with my surgeons.

Last week I went to the Slotervaart hospital in Amsterdam for 3 meetings.

The third one was with the anesthesiologist. He turned out to be a very nice guy who clearly enjoyed his job of making people as comfortable as possible. He told me not to worry and he would take good care of me. I'm getting an PCA which means as much as patient controlled pain medication after the surgery. I'm very happy about that because being dependent on whenever the nurses can find the time to listen to you and decide you might actually be right and either need more medication or not, is not exactly ideal. I have a high pain threshold but also get used to pain medication really quickly. So that's something that could go either way. Like this I will be in full control and will get what I need.

The second meeting was with the gynecologist. He's a bit of a quirky man but he's a professional alright. He told me what he is going to do. They will put air in my belly to make room to work. Then they will make 4 tiny incisions; one for a camera so they can see what they are doing, and the other 3 for tools. There's already a larger opening they can use to pull out that annoying bit of tissue. Then all they have to do is stitch it shut at the top and they are done. He told me a whole bunch of things that can happen after the surgery that might freak me out but I don't need to worry about. He also told me a few things that could happen that would mean I should call him. But in all cases I don't need to worry because if anything goes wrong they'll just fix it, no problem. Okay doc, what ever you say. I an 100% confident that he will indeed set things right.

Now the first meeting was the one I was nervous about. It was the surgeon that will fix my chest. In broad terms there are two ways of doing this. The big surgery and the small surgery. The big one means two large incisions below the breasts. With the small one they make circular incisions around the nipples. Clearly, the big one causes bigger scars then the small one. Most transmen are really set on getting the small on. It's a big deal. It's important because else you are mutilated for life with those huge ugly scars across your chest that will remind you for ever and always what you went through and will cause the whole world to ask what the hell happened to you. People had told me I should be able to get the small one. People told me it was important for me to get the small one. Everyone wanted to small one so of course I would want the small one as well. So when my surgeon took one look at me and said: no way, I was in shock. I had counted on getting the small one. After a while I realized I felt like I had lost some sort of competition. This confused me and later got me mad. This is why it took me a while to write this update. I wanted to figure out where this feeling came from.

Among transmen, or trans people in general really, there is this silent competition to be as passable as possible. I feel very conflicted about this. The problem is that if all transsexuals just disappear after their last surgery it makes it harder for the people who live further away from the norm to find a place in society. As a transsexual you stand out for a while during your transition. It's a big deal. It's heavy. It's hard. And also, it's very visible.You can't go into a cave and come out a few years later and go: tadaaa! It doesn't work like that. You are forced to do it in plain sight. This is why transsexuals get a lot of media attention. But once you are done, you are done, and you can pretend it never happened most of the time. You can go back to your ordinary life. Sure, some will still stand out but these days people can start transition during their teens and most of them are absolutely passable once they are done and sometimes even before then.

A lot of people who are transgender but are not transsexual don't have that luxury. They don't go though an awkward phase and then come out as themselves and can fit one of the boxes on every bloody form on the planet. A lot of them are somewhere in between. They always stand out. They can't just put on a shirt to cover the scars and pretend they're one of the guys. They need our support.

The other things is that there seems to be a shame culture happening here. Even though people are now coming out as trans on television and there are shows being made about trans people and all the media attention and people shouting that transsexuals should be accepted a lot of trans people still seem to be ashamed of the fact that they are trans. It's like being ashamed of being black, or of being ginger, or of being short, or of having blue eyes. It seems to me that a lot of transsexual people feel the need to be as passable as possible because they are afraid that people will still see them as less, as inferior, of not one of them. They are afraid of not fitting in, of being cast out. They want to hide part of who they are, part of their history, in order to secure a future.

I am not ashamed of being a transsexual, just like I'm not ashamed of being ginger and short. I'm not ashamed of having Indonesian ancestry even though no one sees it. I'm also not proud of it. I didn't do anything to be any of these things. These are the cards I got dealt. That's all. There is no shame in that. There is also no pride in that. It simply is what it is. So why did I freak out when she told me I was getting the big surgery? Because people had told me I should. Well, not directly, but they did make me feel that way. Personally I don't have a problem with a few extra scars. I have plenty already and they all have a story. This would just be another story, one that I'm not ashamed of. So that's why I got mad. My peers had, unintentionally, made me feel like I should be ashamed of who I am. This makes me sad and it worries me. I am able to take a good look at who I am and how I feel about myself and get past this. But not everyone can. There are a lot of trans people who are very vulnerable and who are unable to stand up for themselves. I can imagine some people would get very depressed hearing such news, maybe even suicidal. If they really feel like they should be ashamed of who they are and that they will be rejected by society if people find out there is something seriously wrong. It's all fine and dandy that we have those tv shows now and that there are so many people coming out publicly but there is still so much work to do.

I'm getting the big surgery. I am getting two scars on my chest that tell my story. I'm okay with that. I'm still waiting for the date but it should be before my birthday in late July. The surgeon really is a nice lady and she knows what she's doing. She is one of the best in the country. She saw how shocked I was and did her best to reassure me everything would be okay and she would do her best to minimize my scarring. In the mean time I am coming up with all kinds of ideas for tattoos in combination with scarifications for my torso. So I'm not worries at all anymore. Right now I'm just curious about the final result so I can start designing.

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Things are getting real.

Last night I helped a friend pick up a stove she had bought second hand. When we got there the guy selling it showed us where he had stored it and nodded at me: you take that side and we'll carry it together. There was no question of my female friend carrying it what so ever. This was a man's job. It didn't matter that my friend is probably stronger then that guy was, or that it was her stove. We were men and this is what we do.

Last week I helped out filming a Virtual Pump DVD. Me and that same friend are in the background with our barbells. It was quite an interesting experience. I haven't seen the final results yet and I have no idea how I look on camera but they did post a picture online of the V-Pump team. Of course they tagged me on facebook. An old friend of mine, who I haven't seen in ages, sent me a PM. At first she had just recognized my friend and hadn't really paid attention to the three guys in the picture. And then she noticed I was tagged and it was me. It seems I have changed so much that, at first glance, I don't look like my old girly self any more but really look like a regular guy.

And then there is the new gym I'm going to where I'm 'stealth' and no one knows I'm trans and no one bats an eye when I walk into the men's room.

When I started thinking about transition it was all very abstract. You have some idea of what it might be like but you're not sure. You see other people do it and think it sounds like a good idea. You listen to their experiences, watch people on the street, observe how they behave and everything. You think a lot. But that's all theory. You have no idea what it will feel like. You might think you do, but you don't. No one can tell you what it's like. It's different for everyone. At some point you just know you can't keep going the way you used to and something needs to change. So you take the plunge and you start your journey. And then it becomes a bit like having a baby. You have this long period of waiting, of growing and changing, before it becomes real. A lot of people might think that the surgery is like the birth. I'm expecting the same thing. But sometimes I notice that's not completely true. Unlike having a baby transition is something that happens more gradually. I know quite a few people now who have never known me as a girl. And some people don't even know I'm trans. Experiences like I just described make it real. Slowly you move from 'I think I should be a guy' to 'I'm going to become a guy' to 'I actually am a guy'. Theory becomes reality. It's no longer just in my head. I'm living it. I can feel myself shifting into a new state of being, closer to my true self. I used to really dislike myself but that feeling is slowly disappearing and being replaced by a new confidence I had never experienced before. This isn't just about becoming a man. This is about becoming myself, more then anything else. I am growing in ways I never thought possible. And this is just the beginning. Once I've had my surgery and changed my passport my transition may be finished but my journey will finally begin.

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Oh my.... size.

People generally agree I have gotten bigger in a good way. They say I look impressive, strong. When I look at the statistics they are right. I have gained over 2kg of muscle since I started testosterone and have lost over 3kg of fat. The difference is noticeable. On a good day I would agree I look pretty good. Most days however, I disagree. Most days I feel like I look scrawny. I feel my arms are way too thin and my shoulders too narrow. This is a very strange thing. Let me show you why.

The picture on the left is me, 6 years ago. When I took that picture I felt huge! There was way too much of me and I wanted to disappear. My eating disorder never had anything to do with wanting to be pretty. I simply felt there was something wrong with me and the less there was of me the less wrong I was. A strange construct but it made sense when I came up with it at age 7.

The picture on the right I took this morning. Again, it is impossible to be objective about it. I'm not sure how I feel, but I know it's not what it should be. Part of the problem is obvious. The boobs. They have to go. They get in the way of the rest of me. It's like all of me is hiding behind those boobs. Maybe that's why I feel the rest of me should be bigger. Not just generally bigger, but specifically muscular bigger. Manly.

But that's not the only problem. For a very long time I was very thin. Part of me always knew that, even if there was too much left still. It was part of my identity. And now I am letting that go. More then that. I am actively getting as big and strong as my body wants to be. I'm allowing my body to grow towards it full potential. I know I should be bigger. I know I should allow myself to take up space. There's the thing: taking up space. I used to feel that was such an awful thing to do. And now I am allowing myself to take up space it feels like I'm still not getting enough of it. I need more. I need to be present. I need to manifest myself. I need to stand like a mountain.

I might be over compensating. I am aware of that. But I think it is a natural process that you need to go through. After denying myself for so long I really need to say: here I am, not just to others, but mostly to myself. This is a part of my transition that is more mental then physical, though it may seem to be the other way around. By letting my body change I am slowly letting go of who I used to think I was supposed to be and growing into my own. It's a slow and painful process. Something that doesn't hit the surface much but is still there, constantly rearing it's head. These are the growing pains. Every time I look in the mirror I hope to see myself. On a good day now I do. I'm hoping there will be more and more of those to come.

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How to look like me?

I have been reading a book a friend of mine gave me for my birthday. It's a book by a fashion photographer. The book contains photo's of people he met on the street that fascinated him because they had style. I started reading it because I thought maybe I could find something in there that I would like and could adopt. Going through a transition like I do, going from girl to boy, is a bit of a rude awakening. You get stripped down to the core and then you're left standing there and you have to figure everything out all over again. Who am I? Who is that person looking back at me in the mirror? I had hoped this book would give me some ground rules as to what a guy is supposed to look like.

Just to be clear, 99% of the book consists of photographs. I still call it reading though. It's a much more universal language. And what those photo's were telling me was: there are no rules. You can wear anything you like as long as you own it, as long as it's you. Initially that really pissed me off. I had hoped to find some sort of starting point, a clue as for what to do, where to start or something to aim for. Later I realized I was looking for someone who looked like me. I looked at every picture thinking: is this me? And every time the answer was the same: no. Why? because there is only one person that looks like me and that is me. Or at least, there should be one person who looks like me. And that's the problem. Because when I look in the mirror I don't see me. Not yet anyway. I had been looking for a shortcut. But in life there are no shortcuts. Everything worth doing is worth doing right and the only way to do this right is by taking the long road, the road I haven't traveled yet.

There is a rule though. Just one. It's very simple, very basic and it's the trick all those people in those pictures probably used. You can wear anything as long as it's you. So that means you should only have items of clothing in your closet that you really like, that are really you. Then you can walk in there blindfolded and come out looking fantastic because what ever you pull on is you. I recently dumped two garbage bags of clothing but my closet isn't empty by far. But when I take a good look at it, if I would have to pick out the items I really like, that I really feel comfortable in, that make me feel good about myself, I come up with one shirt and a pair of jeans. That's all. Okay, maybe a handful of sleeveless shirts but that's it. So what do I do? The fact that I still have boobs (or moobs really) doesn't help with the way I feel about how I look. I'm hoping things will get better once I have had my surgery but that doesn't change the fact that I still don't look like me in most of the clothes I own. I mentioned to a friend last night that I'd rather own 5 shirts that I feel comfortable in then 20 that I don't like. So maybe I should stick to my word and actually just wear the few clothes that I do like or at least throw out the stuff that makes me feel silly when I wear it. I wonder how many people actually do that. Just wear what they really like instead of just wearing what they are used to for what ever reason. Clothing is such a huge part of your identity. So much more then most people realize. I'm really curious about how I will look a year from now, after the surgery and once I have found some money to buy some new clothes. I can't wait.

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Testosterone is still too high.

My doctor left me a voice mail to let me know my testosterone level is still too high. He didn't say how high exactly but I'm guessing he really means way too high. He wants me to go down to using 10mg of gel a day. Normal dose is 50mg. I even know someone who uses 100mg. It seems like my skin is just super thin and absorbent. You can't really go lower then 10mg so I really hope this will do the trick. It feels almost silly rubbing that tiny bit on. I'll just have to wait and see what happens. I will get bloodwork done again after two weeks and then have to wait another two weeks for the results.

Having lowered my dosage I had assumed it was fine and I figured the way I was feeling was due to stress. I have been taking some more time to myself though and it hasn't helped much. My energy levels are still low. I have trouble sleeping. I feel restless. And the nausea is still there. The excess testosterone is being turned into estrogen which probably explains the change in my body composition. Where I was gaining muscle and losing fat at first, it is now the other way around. Not very drastic, but consistent every week: a bit more fat and a bit less muscle. And that while I am working out plenty and am eating as best as I can, keeping close track on my nutrients. For a while I thought it might be because I wasn't getting enough rest to recover but now I am getting more rest things have not improved. I'm hoping lowering my testosterone will help.

It has been 3 days since I cut back to 10mg and so far I don't feel any difference. I actually feel a bit flu-ish but I have been feeling like that for weeks now. I really hope that will get better soon as well. It's driving me nuts. My body is clearly off balance. It's not very surprising. A lot is changing and it needs to find a new equilibrium. Right now my body is still fighting the hormones my ovaries are making. This doesn't make it any easier. I have been thinking about it again and right now I'm really leaning towards also getting a hysterectomy when I get my chest done. That way my body doesn't have to fight itself anymore. And then I can really move forward. It feels scary though. From what I heard from other transmen the hysterectomy is mostly heavy mentally. It's a big step. But right now I feel like it would be the best thing to do to find a proper balance. Of course, my body will have to reset hormonally again after that but then everything will be done. I'm dreading the recovery period. Not being able to go to the gym will suck. Not being able to do all the things I want to do, not being able to carry my own bloody shopping the first few days... But it will be worth it. The longer I'm on hormones the more I feel like my chest and belly are wrong. They don't fit me. They're not part of me. They don't belong there. It's strange. When I have clothes on I look more and more like myself. But when I take them off I look less and less like myself. There is only one way to fix that though. And I have to be patient for that. Right now all I can do is keep my fingers crossed and figure out what to make for dinner. I think I'll have chicken.

On a lighter note: I have had my last meeting for my screening at the VUmc in Amsterdam. I can call them November 8th to see if I have green light on hormone treatment so I can start my Real Life Experience phase there. A year after that I will be able to have surgery there. This is a long time away and I don't even want to think about that. It's my safety net in case my insurance won't accept the referral from the Psycho Informa Group. I really hope they will because then I might be able to get surgery as soon as May. *crosses more fingers, and toes and what every available*

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Through the roof!

Last week I went to the hospital to get the results of my blood tests. Turned out that my testosterone levels were 55. They should be between 11 and 30. Some might think: wow, that's great, right? No. There is a max for a reason. The surplus gets turned into estrogen which is something I really don't want. It explains why I have been feeling a bit grumpy to say the least. There is this phenomenon called 'roid rage' which is known among bodybuilders who use too much steroids in order to get bigger. They tend to get a tad aggressive. Well, having a uterus and all, I'd say it feels more like PMS. So there you have it. Seriously, I could kill someone while having PMS. I'm sure I'm not the only person who feels that way. Women just have more control. 

So, grumpy, restless and tired, which is always a great combination, and still the nausea. I have cut back on how much testosterone I put on and the nausea did get a lot better. Yesterday I forgot my testosterone and I was actually feeling really well. It took me a while to realize it was because I wasn't nauseous. Actually, I didn't realize that until today. I was at the end of my bottle and decided to squeeze the last bit out which was a lot more then I should be taking. So later this afternoon the nausea hit me again, pretty bad. Very annoying. I ignored it best I could and managed quite well but it did make me realize how strongly I still react. I hope that with the new dose and lower blood levels the nausea will go away. It sounds like such a simple little thing. Silly almost. But it makes it hard to eat and when you constantly feel like that it really takes up quite a bit of energy to ignore it. Fingers crossed. 

The good news is that the ginger beard looks promising. Last Friday several friends noticed my stubbly chin and cheeks and all had to have a feel. It would be awesome if I had a full beard for my next birthday. With this rate it might even be possible. 

Also, some of my shirts are getting too tight around my shoulders. Most of the time I still feel like I look pretty skimpy but every now and then I catch a glimpse in the mirror and surprise myself. One day I might actually believe what I see and it will be me.

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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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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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Looking back, a quick summery.

I just wrote a really short article for the quarterly magazine for the LGBT organization I work for. I didn't have much space so I just made a really short summery of the whole "oh my, I might be trans" thing. I started at the beginning and skipped most of what is now the middle to get to where I am now. Lately I have been thinking a lot about the road ahead. Starting hormone treatment means my body will finally start to change. It feels like a beginning. But I just realized it isn't. It's the end of the beginning. The beginning has been the journey up to this point. And it has been a long one. I keep forgetting that. So I'm taking a moment to look back.

About two years ago I first started to allow myself to even consider this male/female thing. Before then it was my deepest, darkest secret and I couldn't tell anyone about it. I hid it so far from the rest of the world I even hid it from myself most of the time. I tried really hard to be a good girl, or more, to be good at being a girl. But I always felt like a failure, like I was doing something wrong. In a way I was right, I was doing something wrong. I was barking up the wrong tree. I knew I was but I didn't see any other options. I was miserable and convinced I would always stay that way because I could never be what I really wanted to be. I couldn't live like that. 

So I took a chance. I started looking around on the internet, gathering information about transgenderism and applying it to my own case. I started looking at my life in a different light and suddenly things made a lot more sense. I talked to some friends and they all responded very relaxed, agreeing that living as a man would indeed suit me much better. I made more sense as a man to them as well. I put myself on the waiting list to get treatment and took a deep breath. A weight fell off me. 

I had made my choice, and then it was time to tell people. So I did. My mother almost cried, she was so afraid I would be an outcast and would ruin my chance at being happy. I don't blame her. It's not easy being trans. But my friends all responded really well. Most of them were mostly curious as to how it all works. People told me they were proud of me for choosing to be myself, which sounds silly but they're right as too many people are afraid to be true to themselves, gender aside. People told me they thought it was cool. And they asked all kinds of questions, some of which I didn't have an answer to because I hadn't thought about it yet and those questions helped me understanding things better myself. Over all, it was a good experience. I got lucky. 

And then there was the screening. The big test to see if you're not just nuts and if you're the real deal. But also to see if you are able to deal with the changes because they're pretty big indeed. So I filled out the endless questioners, wrote my life story, brought along a friend and talked and talked and talked. All according to protocol. I don't think I agree with the protocol completely but I understand they want to make sure you can get through this life changing event okay. Finally they sent me to see a different psychiatrist and he agreed I was indeed 'born in the wrong body' and I could start hormone treatment. Relief washed over me. 

Of course, every time you get some good news you get put on hold again. It's been nearly 3 months since I was given the okay and I still don't have my hormones. Next week, if all goes well, so almost now. This constantly being put on hold takes its toll. It's much harder then people realize. But I'm almost there. Once I start hormones at least the changes will start and I will really feel like I am on my way. It's like taking the train to the airport. You don't feel like you're really on your way until your on the plane but you've left home long ago. I'm on my way alright, and I have left many miles behind me already. 

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Me, scared? Why would I be?

If all goes well I can start hormone treatment next week. I have an appointment at the hospital in The Hague on Friday and am waiting for an invitation from the hospital in my own town. The waiting list there is one week and I sent them my referral note last week so I am hoping I can get an appointment there really soon. That way I can walk there in 10 minutes instead of taking trains and buses for over an hour. I think I'll call after the weekend and ask what's going on. I want to know what's happening. 

I've been looking forward to being on hormones for quite some time. But to be honest I am really dreading starting hormones. The psychiatrist who gave me the green light warned me again that some people can get really depressed starting on testosterone, and most people tend to feel a bit blue when their testosterone levels are getting low just before their next shot. I have a history of depression so I am at risk more then most. I know that. I am very much aware of that. I'm pretty nervous about it. I'm not the happiest person on most days though I manage to keep myself busy and productive. My menstrual cycle really affects my mood so I know I'm extra sensitive to hormonal fluctuations. Most people starting on testosterone tend to feel more stable though. I've even heard people say the feel happier on testosterone. I'm hoping that will happen to me too. But as they say one should: I'm hoping for the best but expecting the worst. This mean I am preparing to hit a mayor depression again. It probably won't be so bad but it's better to be prepared and not needing your ammo then needing it and having none. 

The other thing that I am dreading about this phase is being the bearded lady. Not that there is anything wrong with being a bearded lady if you chose to be. But that's not what I want to be. I want to be a man. I want to look like one and be treated as one. But this phase is going to be tricky. I will still have boobs and I just know I won't be wearing a binder every day. I hate binders. But I will have to pay extra attention to what I wear, depending on when and where. I already confuse people sometimes and that's just going to get worse at first. I know getting my fat percentage down to make my boobs smaller doesn't work for me. My boobs are pretty much that last thing to go. So I'm stuck with them for now.

I really wish I could get the surgery first and then start the hormones. I know other people who would prefer to do it like that as well. The idiotic idea is that you can still quit hormone treatment and go back to the way things were in case you change your mind. The Real Life Experience phase is supposed to be an exploratory phase where you can try your new gender on for size and see if you like it or not and if you don't you can just return it and get a refund. But that's not true. There are plenty of effects that hormone treatment has that are irreversible, like the lowering of your voice and hair everywhere. You can't just go back. Plus, most people who change their minds usually have done so before starting hormones. They have a screening phase just for that, to spot those people who have other issues and think that changing gender might help them get away from those problems. Altering your body in pursuit of  happiness is a big step. I know, more and more people have plastic surgery because they feel like they should in order to become happy. You got to ask yourself, what's going on with those people. No matter what the context, permanently changing your body, is big. 

I am very much aware of this.  I will be changing my body, permanently. After this there is no going back. I've always felt that the outside should reflect the inside. This is also why I have always disliked my body. I don't feel complete. I really hope that by doing this I will feel more like me. I'm hoping, one day, I will recognize myself in the mirror. Hormone treatment should make that happen. So yeah, I'm scared. Right now, I have hope. And hope is such a sneaky devil. Once I start treatment I will be looking in the mirror, looking for myself, hoping I will see a glimpse of me. I have no idea how long this will take. I have no idea if it will ever happen. There is only one way to find out. If you're scared, it means it's important enough to you to scare you. Bravery is being scared and doing it anyway. So here I go, being brave, because it is important to me. I still wish I didn't have to do this. I wish I could just wake up a year from now in my new and improved body and not go through all the growing pains and confusion of living in an obviously mixed gender body. It's the only option I have though. Wish me luck. 

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Bronies and beared ladies.

Last week there was a Dutch article on a German woman who had beard growth and had decided to not pluck it out any longer. She now works at the circus. It's a lonely life but she is happier being herself even though not everyone reacts positively, telling her she should be shot etc.

I was a bit surprised at this article and not in a good way. I found myself thinking: she really works in the circus? That is so two centuries ago. It seemed like fiction. But this probably is her only option. Let's be honest, what kind of job do you see her doing? Something where other people couldn't see her. But who would hire her in the first place? I don't think anyone would. Other then circus that is. People are so stuck in the binary that anything that does not fit people's ideas of what is feminine or masculine is simply not accepted. A bearded lady is a freak and should either be shot or in the circus. In the rest of the world there is no place for someone like that. 

What I was even more surprised at, were the reactions the article got. It was posted in one of the trans groups on Facebook. It was a mixed group so there were transmen and women on there. The post has been removed and I only saw a few of the comments but I saw it was getting out of hand real quick. The transmen mostly reacted approving, perhaps even a bit jealous. Some of the transwomen however were shocked, appalled and offended. How could a woman want to grow a beard? They were trying really hard to not grow a beard in becoming a real woman. And now there was this cis (people born in the body that fits their gender identity) woman, who saw herself as 100% woman, who was growing a beard! How could she do that? It seems that a lot of transsexuals are just as stuck in the binary as most cis people are. They rebuke any behavior that doesn't fit just as hard as others do. 

As much as that shocks me, I also feel embarrassed as I am part of that group and I would like to be able to say: we, transgenders, think outside of the binary boxes of male and female. But it turns out we don't. We are just as human as the rest of you. We are just as insecure, or maybe even more. We want to fit in. That's all that matters in the end. At least, for a lot of trans people. The want to be accepted for who they are and because of that they will go through great lengths to be as passable as possible. Even if that means rejecting people who don't fit the standard either, who are just trying to be themselves, just like they are.

Passability is one of the greatest issues among the trans community. It's so important. It is the greatest achievement there is for a transsexual. It makes me wonder why. A lot of transsexuals are afraid they will be found out. That something will give away the fact that they were born in the wrong body. They are afraid that, if/when people find out, they will be rejected. A lot of them will tell you it's not about that. It's about feeling like a real woman or like a real man. Sorry but that's a load of crap. If you didn't feel like a woman or a man, you wouldn't want to change your body and your social role to fit how you feel. So you already feel like a real woman or a real man. What you look like has nothing to do with that. If we look at the so called ideal of what women or men should look like, hardly anyone meets that standard. But a lot of trans people think they should, because they have to compensate for not having ovaries or testicles. Do we really have to? A friend of mine posted a video on my wall the other day, about bronies. About what? Bronies. Just watch the video here. 

Did you watch it? It raises some interesting questions. Personally I'm a big fan of bronies. Not of My Little Pony to be honest. But I think bronies are awesome. I hope it will be the start of something new. A new definition of what masculine and feminine means. And how stuck we are with those two as being divided. I believe that everyone has a feminine and a masculine side. We are now at an age where we have the ability to express both sides. Whether you are transsexual or cis or transgender, you always have a feminine and a masculine side. Embrace them and make them work together. If we, the trans people, really want to be ourselves and be free to express the way we see ourselves, everyone should be able to. I think that's the only way to do it. So I say let's get the bearded lady out of the circus and see her as just another human being, just like the rest of us. 

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