Rebalancing my hormones one more time.

Last week I mentioned I was feeling the testosterone a lot again. So far that has only gotten worse. It really does feel like it did when I first started testosterone. I remember suddenly understanding why teen aged boys were complaining all the time. And once again I really do. It's all very impractical.
I wake up early because I am hungry. I am hungry all the time. I could eat non stop and I would if I wasn't so nauseous again. In the morning it's not so bad but in the afternoon it sometimes gets so bad I feel the need to lie down and wait for it to pass. Eating in the evening is difficult but sine I'm so bloody hungry I still do. Three cheers for protein shakes. They're a real lifesaver at the moment.
My energy levels and concentration fluctuate a lot. I've been trying to work but it's far from easy. I can't stay focussed for very long most of the time and am tempted to just crawl back into bed. But not at night. When I actually should be sleeping I am wide awake, tossing and turning. I allow myself to stay in bed late by my standards and didn't get up until 9:30 this morning. I also take naps in the afternoon if I can't push myself to do anything useful anyway. I know my body needs to get used to not having any oestrogen at all any more and this will pass. I'm trying to listen to what my body needs as best I can but it's frustrating. It would be nice if my body would agree to get that sleep at a more convenient time. I have no idea how long this will last but there is nothing I can do about it.
One of the things my body needs a lot of food and rest for is my muscles. After not training at all for 2 months your body gets a bit of a shock anyway when you start working out again. But with the new hormonal balance it's even stronger. My muscles want to grow and so far every time I did a BodyPump class I was able to put a bit extra on my barbell. I'm not getting very sore at all which is good I guess. I'm trying not to up my weights too fast even though it is very tempting. When I was still figuring out the right dosage for my testosterone my muscle mass and fat mass fluctuated too much and I ended up with a shoulder injury. I don't want that to happen again so I'm making sure I'm going easy on my joins. They need time to get used to the extra strain. I really can't wait to get to proper weights again though. I can finally create the body I've always wanted.

Getting back to work is harder then I had thought. It has been a while since I completely focussed on my own creative processes. The past few years I have been so busy with other things, like running the gallery, I didn't have much time for my own stuff. Now I've had time to think about what I really want in life I have decided to give myself another chance and really go for it. After painting abstract for about a decade I am going back to more figurative work so this means I'm back to drawing. Only slightly frustrating as I used to be pretty good at it but am not quite rusty. I'm practising the basics again, doing model drawing from a book, which I see as a necessary evil right now. Once things get better it will start being fun again I'm sure. And then I can paint again.
I am at my fourth set up for my book on my transition and feel like I finally have something that could work. I had planned to use this blog as a base to work from but copy pasting large passages seems pointless. People can just read the blog then. Right now it is taking on a novel like shape. Page one of chapter one seems finished right now but I still have about 300 pages or more to go so it's very well possible I'll rewrite that page or move it at some point. It feels good to have started though. I'm really curious where this will take me. I have started writing so many novels when I was younger but never actually finished one. This would be the first. It's a new life indeed.

Pictures of my work can be found on my Facebook page.

Burn baby burn

Last winter I had a burn out. Really? I did? Yeah, it took me a while to figure it out myself. And once I had figured it out I was ashamed to admit it. First to myself, then to others. But you know me. When ever I feel something is wrong I start wondering why and can never keep my mouth shut about my findings. So what was going on here?

During my twenties I spent a lot of time in therapy. I was what one could call guano crazy. I was officially declared unfit for regular work and have been living on government benefits ever since. Not that I haven't tried to study or work. I have tried plenty. But every time I had to come to the conclusion they were right: I am unfit for regular work. So I shouldn't do that. I am coming to terms with that now, since I had yet another burn out this winter. Seems like I finally learned my lesson. Most people who are sitting at home actually want to do something useful. So do I. So even though I don't have to work to be able to cover my basic bills (and not much more but this is a different story) I do want to do something. I started doing volunteer work at the COC, the LGBT rights organisation. I set up a non profit gallery with a friend of mine. I thought group classes as several gyms. I continued making art. And I started my transition from female to male.

I got a shoulder injury and decided it was a good moment to take a break from teaching at the gyms. The gallery was taking up more and more time so it was a good excuse to quit at the COC where I felt overwhelmed. And then the gallery lost its major sponsor and we could no longer stay at the location we had. We decided to close down after 4 years. Honestly, I was relieved it closed. It meant I could take some time to myself and catch my breath. I took a week, and then another. It turned into a month and then two. And I am still tired. I tell people I can't really do anything right now because I am waiting for my surgery this summer. Honestly, that's not the whole story. I burned out last winter and I need some time to recover. I don't know how long this is going to take but it will take as long as it needs to. I'm not going to set any goals or deadlines. I'm going to take it a day at a time and if my energy is good that day I'll use it. If my energy is low I'll take it easy. I'm not going to let myself burn out again. I've done it too many times already.

I know what I did wrong. The next question is why. Lately half the time I'm on public transport I overhear people complain to each other or on the phone about the pressure at work and school. They are constantly being asked to do a little extra. Again and again. All those things are relatively small but they add up. To a lot. People are working extra hours to get all the work done and have to do additional courses to keep their jobs. Even if the course has nothing to do with their actual work. People are discouraged to call in sick when they really should. People are sacrificing their free time to catch up with paperwork. It seems like everyone is terrified of losing their jobs. At first I thought that was it: people want to keep their jobs and with unemployment as high as it is people are willing to do anything to not get fired. But why does this state of fear flows over into the school system? Kids are cracking under the pressure and they feel guilty about it. What's happening there?

When I was growing up our parents told us we could be anything we wanted. The choice was ours. This idea is still valid. But, if you want to be A, then you also have to be X, Y and Z. Even if you don't want to be X, Y and Z and they have nothing to do with what you are doing. The things you want to do are now pre packaged with a bunch of other stuff. There are conditions to everything. This isn't really something new. There are always things attached to everything. When you want to be your own boss and become an entrepreneur you also have to do all the paperwork that goes with it. If you love teaching and inspiring people it also means you have to prepare your classes and score the tests. There are always conditions. But these days it seems that the conditions overshadow the actual work. People are so busy with their check lists that they hardly have time to do what they wanted to do in the first place: the job they chose. Why do we allow this? Not just because we are afraid of losing our jobs. It's bigger then that.

This wave of pressure can be felt by everyone, even stay at home parents or people like me. The general consensus these days seems to be: you can be anything you want, if you work hard enough. If you fail you didn't work hard enough so it's your own fault and you don't deserve to be happy. I'm guessing this is why we put up with this nonsense. We want to prove we can handle it to earn our happiness. It's like a continual pissing contest. Survival of the fittest. A rat race. Maybe we are letting this happen because unemployment is so high. Maybe the "power corrupts" principle is being applied on a massive scale today. People are being told they actually do have control over their own lives. All they have to do is work their hands till they bleed with no reward, just postponed punishment. Orwell wasn't far off after all.

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To count or not to count.

Last year this time around I was working as a group fitness instructor. I was preparing to get on the board of the local LGBT rights organization; the COC. We were a few weeks away from getting the keys to the new location for the gallery. Things were looking good.

 

 

Right now, I don't work at a gym any more. I don't work at the COC any more either. And at the end of the month we are turning in the keys to the gallery due to lack of funds. So things have changed quite a bit and not for the better it seems. Initially I felt like I had no control over the things that were happening. They were simply happening to me. I did my best but in the end I still failed.

 

 

One of the ways I cope with set backs like these is by focussing on something I actually can control. I focus on numbers and keep track of something measurable. Usually the thing I set my focus on is my bodyweight, my food intake and my exercise. I developed my first eating disorder when I was about 7 so this is nothing new. It's more like a default setting. Things go wrong? Start controlling your intake. This time I fell into that trap again. I'm pretty sure this will always be my weak point and that's okay. Everyone has one and I know mine very well. About 5 years ago I decided to stop trying to destroy myself and tried to turn things into something a bit more constructive. I still do. So I have spend a lot of time reading research and watching interviews and debates on nutrition. Scientists tend to focus on health, on finding guidelines that people can use to build their own optimal diet. The more attention you pay to something the more it grows and constantly reading about stuff that has health as the ultimate goal makes it easier to actually stick to that and not use the information for evil, as in self-destruction.

 

 

 

A funny thing is happening. Food has always been a tool but the emphasis is shifting more towards the goal. The goal used to be to get to a minimal weight while still 'functioning' (read not getting locked up in a hospital to get force fed). Back then I spend most of my time thinking about food and weight related things. It was a full time job. Then the goal became looking good, strong and healthy. And now the goal seems to shift again to actually being healthy and having the energy to do all the things I want to do. There is a huge difference between wanting to look good and healthy and wanting to be healthy and feel energetic. Wanting to look good is about how others see you. Wanting to be health is about something completely different. It's about how I treat myself, about finding myself worth the effort to take care of myself. The goal is also no longer focused on food or my body, but on what I can do with it. It's great to look great but if, at the end of the day, I don't have the energy to do the things I enjoy, what's the point? And that's the most important shift right there. My body itself becomes a tool, not a goal. Happy people always look prettier then unhappy people. They radiate. It appeals to other people. You can be as fit as a fiddle and still look awful when you're not happy. So that's the new goal: to do the things that make me happy and sharpen the tool that is my body so I can fully enjoy them.

 

Sounds fantastic! Does that mean I'm going to stop weighing my food and counting my nutrients? I don't think I'm ready for that. But being aware that food is a tool and there are other things in life that are more important really helps a lot. It makes it less obsessive and that gives me more space to breath, and to live. Maybe one day I will be able to let it go, mostly, but I will always be aware of what I eat and how it affects me. I don't think that's a bad thing. I just don't want it to take over my life any more.

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Plot twist: Noodweer, Japan and paintings.

Four years ago Chris and I set up an exhibition for my artwork. By change we got our hands on a really nice space and asked 2 other artists to join in. After the first exhibition we were able to stay a bit longer and set up another one, and then another. Gallery Noodweer was born. Eventually the owner found someone who wanted to rent the space so we had to move on. But we'd had so much fun organizing this we decided to look for a new space and continue our work. And now are yet again forced to move out of the space we have, for the 4th time in as many years. After some debate we decided it is time to finish this project and move on. We had a great time. We learned a lot. Hopefully we inspired others as much as they inspired us. As much as we regret having to quit we came to the conclusion that, right now, in this economic climate, it is simply not possible to run a gallery in this set up. We have one final exhibition in February by Boukje van Iperen which I am really looking forward to. Her work is amazing and I'm glad we can finish with a bang.

 

 

 



So what happens to Noodweer? We need to take a look at what we want, what we want it to mean, what we want to do for people, and how we would want to achieve that. I'm not sure yet how this will take shape. It will take some time to re-evaluate everything that has happened and also to get over our loss. I'm sure Chris and I will collaborate again in the future but right now we need a bit of a breather.

This didn't just happen yesterday so I have had some time to think. I have been thinking a lot about that I want to do with my life in general lately. I had been making plans to go abroad for a while; move to Japan and see if I would have more luck there with my artwork. But then I realized it's hard to get visa so I started looking for easy ways to get one. And then I started looking at courses and job options and before I knew it all these things were no longer about art. Losing Noodweer made me realize that art really is the most important thing in my life and my main focus should really be on my art. I keep losing myself in distractions and I'm not getting anywhere with my career as an artist. I need to stop doing that. I would still love to go to Japan for a while. I love to travel anyway and I would really like to again. But it's not something I should pursue in a way that means sacrificing my art. I need to start taking my work seriously. If I don't, no one else will. Why is this so hard? Because it's got my blood, sweat and tears in it. It's my hopes and dream, my fears and nightmares. My soul. And having that rejected is the hardest thing there is. There is no way I can make it as an artist without going through a lot of rejection first and that part really, really sucks. I'm dreading that part. I know how hard it is going to be as I have tried it before and didn't make it. But this time I feel like I am ready and somehow the idea of succeeding is starting to get scary as well. What do I do then? I know it's way to early to start worrying about that. I still have a long way to go. It's time to take a deep breath and dive in.

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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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My uterus and I.

My uterus and I haven't been getting along for quite a while. I'm not completely sure when it started. When I was on the pill as a teenager and in my early twenties I would get my period like clockwork. Tuesday afternoon at 2pm. But when I got a girlfriend I quit taking the pill and my period disappeared. Later I learned it was probably because of my low weight and the fact that I wasn't eating enough. In my mid twenties I started eating a bit more for a while and my period came back. We have been arguing ever since. I never knew when she would wave a red flag nor if she meant it. So eventually I got a coil, hoping to settle things once and for all. Or at least for a few years. No such luck. She still pops up every now and then but never in full bloom.
Now I have started testosterone things have not calmed down at all. In addition there are sharp pains or cramps as I feel my uterus shrinking. She's not going down without a fight.

A uterus is a woman's greatest asset. It's her crown jewel. It brings forth life. But in my case, she is an adversary. She reminds me of what I am and what I am not. Of what I will never be. Every time she cramps up it feels as of she mocks me. She holds back my masculinity. Over the years she has forced me into a shape I never wanted. She has made my life miserable. If all goes well she will be out of my life for good in as little as 4 months. It will be a little bit of death, and a rebirth. I can't wait.

In the mean time, I'm not getting any jewels back. I will be permanently infertile. I will never be able to have children. Then again, I'm 35 and not in a solid relationship where children are even an option. I never even wanted kids in the first place. So this shouldn't be a big deal, right? This is simply moving forwards. A logical step. Nothing to it. Alas, that is not how it works. Having the choice to not have children is different from not having a choice anymore. I know, having been born female bodied, the choice is pretty much over anyway. But my sister is 2 years older then me and is now having her second child. I'm happy for her. We hadn't expected it to happen but it did. So of the still got a chance at her age, why shouldn't I?

But wait, I didn't want kids, right? Right. So why is this a big deal again?

I have been thinking about this and I think it has to do with mortality and the meaning of life. If you have children a bit of you lives on in them when you die. If you don't have children you have to find a different way to impact the world. That's it in a nutshell. A lot of people try to live through their children. It's not always a good idea but it happens all the time. They hope their children will do all the things they never did, for whatever reason they may have had. Their children can compensate for their mistakes. They can undo their wrongs. When you don't have kids, you have to do all of that on your own. That's pretty big. This means that making the permanent decision to not have children automatically results in making the decision to live my life for me and me alone. That I have to do everything myself. That I can not rely on someone to make up for the things I didn't do.

Feel free to accuse me of thinking too much for my own good. I won't deny it.

Another thing is the social implication. Life exists purely to sustain itself. Procreating is the most important thing there is. We have copied that in our social structures. You can see this in any society. Children provide status and security. If you do not have children you are pitied. People generally find it hard to believe that some people don't want to have children. They don't understand why someone would not want to have children. I don't feel the need to defend myself as to why I don't want them, that's up to me and me alone. Often people assume you're just saying that because you don't have the option. But if you actually can't have them, then you truly are pitied indeed. And that is the last thing I need. I don't want this status attached to me of poor transperson who had to give up children. That is not the case. But I know some people that I will meet will think that way because it is easier for them then to accept the fact that I chose to live my life for myself instead of trying to live it through someone else. This might make me not a good living creature, but it doesn't make me a bad person. I think a lot of people would be happier if they focused a bit more on what they would like to do with their lives instead of putting pressure on their kids to have better grades then the neighbor's kids. If you want that's best for your children, don't you think setting an example on how to be happy with yourself would be more valuable then comparing them to others?

Final conclusion: it's time for me and my uterus to part ways. After all, you usually regret the things you didn't do more then the things you did do.

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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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This is harder then I thought.

This is harder then I thought. I figured I'm fit and healthy and have everything pretty much sorted out. This whole transition thing should be a walk in the park. I couldn't have been more wrong.

Physically things really are a lot harder then I had expected. The fluctuations in my hormones the last 5 months have taken their toll and my reserves are pretty much gone. At some point, something has got to give. I have been dog tired for about a month now and I can't wait to make it through a day without falling asleep on the sofa. My strength, recovery speed and energy are all at an amazing low. My body constantly aches and I feel ill. Sure, I'm getting hairy, but that's about it right now. I do yoga every day which helps a bit. And I try to go to a BodyPump class 3 times a week but it's frustrating as hell. I have cut most of my weights in half and I still barely make it through the hour. By the time we get to track 8 I feel like throwing up. Doing nothing would drive me insane though. Hopefully things will slowly get better every time. Patience is a virtue.

I know I had already decided to quit teaching at the gym before my body flipped me the bird but being forced like this is very frustrating. It means I didn't get the change to say goodbye and close the chapter properly. Now it's still lingering in the back of my head. I'm finding it harder to let this go then I had expected. But maybe it's because right now I have to let go of a lot of things. Last weekend the Trans*-café had organized a clothing exchange. A lot of trans people find the need to change a huge chunk of their wardrobe all at once at some point so we figured this might help. I took 2 garbage bags full and came home with 2 shirts. I think that's a pretty good trade as I'm not 100% sure how I want to dress anyway. I just know how I don't want to dress; in a dress. As I was dragging those bags to the bar this feeling of emptiness came over me. I was closing a chapter, letting go, saying goodbye to a part of me that I wouldn't be getting back. And sure, I don't want it back. It was part of a mask that I wore for a long time. But it was also part of me. That's what happens when you wear a mask for so long. You get used to it and it becomes part of your identity. And now I'm having to let that part go. I'm not sure what I am getting in return. I thought I had figured myself out but I hadn't. I just figured out what I didn't want. Now I have to figure out what I do want. Saying I want to paint is great but that's not every day life. That's not what stares back at me in the mirror every day. That's not what fixes lunch, or walks through town, or talks to my friends. It's much more basic. It's the little things, and the little things are a lot harder then the big things.

Right now I'm not sure how to figure out those little things. It's not like you can sit down and think about it until you have found an answer. These things happen gradually. So I am trying to make space for them to happen. I'm doing this by quiting teaching at the gym and taking a brake at the COC but also by cleaning out my house. I'm not much of a materialistic person to begin with but I'm still going through my closets and bookshelves to see what I want to keep and what can go. I feel your house should reflex who you are so I am stripping away those bits that don't fit me. Slowly, but surely. Then I'll just wait and see what happens, what fills the gaps. I wish I could move to a different place so I can start over but that's not an option right now. I'll just have to make due with what I have, just like with my body. The most important changes happen inside my head anyway.

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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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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 started hormone treatment!

Last Thursday I had my second meeting with the hormone doctor. He told me my blood work was fine. My good cholesterol was actually really high which is great. Testosterone can inhibit liver functions which can cause lower good cholesterol so I have more then a buffer. My testosterone is 1.6 which is really low, even for a girl. To get to male values I have to get it up to between 11 and 30. At least, that's what I heard from my trans friends. There seems to be a different way to measure testosterone and then you get to values of 300 or something. I have been googling but I can't find any clear numbers. Next time I see him I'll ask. 

My low testosterone levels do make me wonder. I don't look like it. I mean, I'm pretty strong and all. I hope this means I am very receptive to testosterone and will be getting results really quick. Time will tell. 

I only got started yesterday so I'm not noticing anything yet. I am slightly nauseous which can be a side effect but it could also be stress. I mean, this is a big deal, no matter how cool I may act. I also didn't sleep very well. I was really restless. Could be the T, could also be anticipation. This morning, while I was teaching BodyBump, my barbell felt really light though but I did have trouble focusing. Again, no way to tell what that means. Right now, I'm tempted to read into everything. I really need to restrain myself. I should start noticing something within a few weeks though. Something. There are guidelines for what to expect but they are not rules. It's different for everyone. Usually the voice starts acting funky pretty quickly which is going to be a lot of fun while teaching. I can just see myself squeaking while I'm trying to help people push through those last single presses in the shoulder track. Fun fun fun. But it will pass. Things will get better and I can finally be myself. 

Writing that last sentence makes me realize how much I am still putting my life on hold. There are still so many things I don't do because I feel I can't because my body is holding me back. But that's not true. During BodyPump I sometimes remind people of that. Can or can't are thing that live inside your head. If you tell yourself you can't do those last few reps then you will fail. If you tell yourself: I can do this and I will, then you can and you will. This is true for a lot of things in life. Many more then we think. But it's so much easier to think we can't because then we don't have to fail. We don't even try. It's safer. But I am done being safe. I tried to play it safe most of my life and all it got me was misery. No more. It's time to start saying: yes I can! So here I go. I can do this.

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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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The evolution of friendship.

I was at the dentist this morning and she asked how I was doing. So I told her I had been stressed lately and broke a molar because of that. She was curious what I was stressed about. There are big things happening in my life. One of those things is registering the gallery at the chamber of commerce. It's such a grown up thing to do. We came to the conclusion that we are both turning 35 this summer. It's a strange thought. I really am a grown up, an adult, making grown up, responsible decisions about grown up topics. How does that happen? It just does. You grow up and become an adult. It happens to most of us.

But we all have our own pace, and some of us get stuck on different levels, or move much faster then others around them. Suddenly, when you are talking to some of your friends about the thing that are important to you at that point, you notice the y don't respond as enthusiastic as you expected. This seems strange at first because you used to be able to share so much with that person and you felt like you both could really relate to each other. And now, the enthusiasm simply isn't there. You take a look at your life,  your friends life, and the life you used to have together, and come to the conclusion you have grown apart. It happens. There is nothing you can do about it. It happens to most of the people you because friends with then you were younger. 

There is a very simple reason for this. Take a look at your life, your world. You have orchestrated it in a way that fits your personality, who you are. That means you now, starting around your thirties, you will be living in a city you like, and, if all is well, in the right part of that city. You will be working in the field you like, maybe even have the dream job you really want. You will have developed habits that suit you and found hobbies you enjoy. And with that comes a circle of friends who you have met at those places. But you have chosen those places. And that's the trick.

I have friends who have kids and I see it happening. The other day I was at a venue and some friends where there with their son, he's almost 10 I think. There was someone else with a kid around the same age. So people expected them to play together. Simply because they were the same age and in the same place. That was the only thing they had in common, age and a location determined by their parents. Same goes for school. Your parents chose your school when you are little, because they think it is a good school and easy to reach. You get stuck with 30 kids without knowing if you have anything in common with them. You do though and that is mostly the fact that you don't know who you are and what you want yet. You still have to develop most of your personality, discover yourself. And this takes time, trial and error. So you do this together. You experiment, try new things and see if you like them or not. If you're lucky you will have a few kids in your class that have the same interest as you do and you can explore the same fields together. But as you grow older you become more specific in your likes and dislikes. You may still have common likes or dislikes, but you might find you have different motivation for them. Or you can find out that some of the things you liked, you don't like at all. You just thought you did because people expected you to for what ever reason. 

At some point in your teens you think you have it all figured out, not realizing that half of what you are thinking is a reaction to your parents. You also have no idea yet how the world really works. I mean, driving an ice cream truck may sound great, but can be rather dull in real life. And having to go out there, facing those noisy kids when you are having a bad day, and it's raining on top of that.... Nobody wants that. But when your young it sounds like a dream. Reality hits and things turn out to be different. Some people will stick to what they thought they wanted because reality is close enough to their dreams, or maybe even better. Some people take a different path. And your roads split and you say goodbye. Or maybe you don't and you find yourself talking to that person and wondering why they are giving you such a funny look like they have no idea what you are talking about. It's because they don't. It's because you are both not 16 anymore and you have grown up. And you have changed. 

We tend to hold on to friendships simply because they have lasted a long time already. Not because of the quality. I'm not saying it's always the case, but it might be more often then we think. The question is, do we really want to hold on to those people or is it time to move on? Would it not be better to save yourself and the other the time trying to understand each other because you feel like you have to simply because you have know each other since you were kids. 

It can also happen the other way around. You can have grown apart, let each other go, and run into each other for what ever reason again, only to come to the conclusion that you are more compatible now then you are the last time you saw each other. it's strange when those thing happen but they do. But be careful, just because you used to know each other really well, doesn't mean you know each other now. Take the time to get to know the new person that your old friend grew into. And try not to hold a grudge. 

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It's a GO! I have green light!

Yesterday I went to Amsterdam, to an independent psychiatrist, to get my second opinion on my gender dysphoria. It was a really nice guy and kind of a funny fellow. He told me he was going to play devil's advocate and asked me some questions that I usually find annoying. But I knew he had to ask them to check how I felt about them. Like: are you sure you're not just a lesbian? And, of course, do you want a penis? Stuff like that. He had looked at my file and seemed to have made up his mind before he even saw me. He told me he was really just trying to find something to fill the 45 minutes with. He failed. I was out the door again in half an hour. It was so clear to him I'm trans, he didn't feel the need to waste any more time on it. He told me he would send the papers to Woerden and they would have to send him a letter back that he would have to sign and then I would get my referral. He'll be on holiday until the 10th though so that's going to take a while. But it's just two weeks or so, so that's not too bad. And knowing it's coming helps a lot.


So after one year and three months I finally have the coveted green light. That's what they call it when you officially have permission to start your physical change to your true gender. A year and three months plus all the years of struggle to acknowledge the issue of course. It has been a long, hard road. To be honest I'm a bit surprised at how quick everything is happening now that I have made my decision to be true to myself. I'm still on the waiting list for the screening at the hospital in Amsterdam, which is the primary location for gender reassignment. I'm really glad I found the Psycho Informa Groep and was able to get through my screening so fast. I just checked and at the local hospital the waiting list for hormone treatment is about 5 weeks. Last time I checked it was still 8 weeks. I really hope it won't have gone up again by the time I get my referral. One thing is for sure. I should be able to start hormone treatment before my birthday this summer. And then it's really happening.


It's strange. I have been looking forward to getting my green light for a long time. It's been on my mind a lot. I thought I was prepared. But it's just like getting a baby. You know it's coming for months and months but when it really happens, it still takes you by surprise. So right now I'm feeling a bit odd. This is really happening. Soon I will start sprouting hair on my chin and my voice will change. I will become more myself. Part of me can't wait. Part of me is nervous.


For over 30 years I tried to be a good girl and meet the expectations that fitted that gender. Because of that I could not be myself. I couldn't do the things I really wanted to do. And now I will be me and I will have no more excuses. I will have to be me and truly me because else all of this will be pointless. I owe it to myself to be true. So here come the big questions. Now I can't hide behind my skirts anymore, what do I want to do with my life? I'm not really sure. I think I have some ideas but if you'd ask me what I want my life to look like in 5 years, I have no clue. In one year, I know that. I want to be getting ready for surgery. But that's just one small aspect of my life. What about the rest? Because it took me so long to start living my own life I feel like I have a lot of catching up to do. I have to make the time I have left, really count. I want to do something special with it. I am being reborn and am getting a second chance. I can't just throw that away. But what should I do?


I know I still have a long way to go before I'm done with my transition. I still have to go through the awkward phase where I have boobs and a beard (so not looking forward to that). And right now I should celebrate to have reached this mile stone. But I know that this is just the beginning. And I can't wait to get started. my hands are itching.


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Boxer shorts and kilts. Male emancipation.

Working as a volunteer for COC Leiden on the educational program I find myself confronted with a classroom full of 15 year old children. In most cases these kids have no idea what my life looks like and the struggle transgenders have been going through for so long. Some of them honestly don't understand why it should be such a problem. Others find it all very odd and don't see how it relates to their world. But being transgender can happen to anyone. People are trying to show that transsexuals are more intelligent then the averaged person. I seriously doubt that's true. It could be that people with a lower IQ simply don't understand what the problem is or don't have the means to express themselves or the means to actually do something about their situation and therefor decide to stay the way they are because they don't seem to have a choice. Genderdysphoria hits all parts of society equally.


But that doesn't make it any stranger to those kids. Why would a guy want to wear a skirt? One day, standing in front of a class, I was tempted to say: I wear boxer shorts too, nobody thinks that's weird. I realized how odd it was to say that, being a female to male transgender. And then it hit me. Even if I was a real girl, it would still be okay for me to wear boy's undies. But the other way around, it wasn't okay. I told them this was silly. That boys should be allowed to wear girl's clothes if girls were allowed to wear boy's clothes like trousers and boxer shorts. Yes, trousers. It wasn't too long ago that a girl would get beaten by her own mother for wearing trousers. And now we think it's completely normal. But boys still can't wear skirts. Marilyn Manson once said that Robert Smith (the Cure) made it okay for boys to wear lipstick. I wish that was really true. Fact is, if a regular boy, not someone famous or who works in entertainment, wears lipstick out on the street, and not on a stage, he will most likely get beaten up. The only time a boy can wear a skirt outside is when it is a kilt, which is Scottish battle clothing. But even then, it is worn as a statement, and people look and point.

Going from girl to boy, from Venus to Mars, I have noticed there are things I suddenly can't do anymore. Like wearing a skirt or make up if I want to. Those things are just not done. Suddenly the things I say that were labeled as strong and independent being said by a woman, were found rude and offensive when said as a man. I find myself needing to sensor myself, not because of what I say or even how I say it, because I would have said it the same way as a woman, but because I am male. Women are expected to stand up for themselves, to fight for their rights. Men are expected to already have rights and should not claim them because by claiming their rights they are automatically suppressing women. Really? It would seem so. I find it all very strange. It seems to me like men are even more stuck in their gender role then women are. Remember people asked me why I couldn't just be a masculine woman or a tomboy because that would be easier? It would be easier. A lot! Mostly because you don't lose the rights you have as a woman. I had no idea how limited men are in their personal expression until I started living as one. Being a masculine woman means getting more freedom and being able to make your own choices. Being a feminine man means losing your rights as a man and not gaining the rights of women. Women have been fighting to gain the rights of men and have succeeded on many levels, though the fight is still far from over. I wish them all the best, I really do. It made my life a lot easier while I was still trying to live as a woman. But men have hardly started the battle to gain the rights of women. Every now and then a man stands up and raises his fist, but it doesn't seem to stick.


Maybe men are afraid that when they try to gain women's rights they will lose their own rights and will be left with nothing. As a transman it's even more difficult because you feel you have to prove your manhood. You have to compensate for not having a penis. And if you do decide to wear a bit of make up every now and then suddenly you are not trans enough and not a 'real' transsexual. Again, something that seems very silly to me and a lot of people agree it is silly indeed. But I don't see a lot of people standing up for this. A lot of transsexuals are afraid that people will think they are actually transvestites when they hold on to some habits that are linked to their old gender. This does happen and does not help at all. Maybe we should all pay less attention to what we all 'should do' and pay more attention to ourselves, who we really are and how we want to express ourselves, no matter what the rest of the world thinks. Though maybe not while we are walking the dog late in the evening... I know there is a fair chance of getting beaten up over this, but I'd rather stand up for what I believe in and get a few bruises then continue to live in shame. Who's with me?




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