The "Wrong" Body

There's a common narrative in many trans* stories about being born "in the wrong body", or a being a woman in man's body, or vis versa. This has been exacerbated, and in some part perpetuated, by medical gate-keeping communities. (A shrink might say "Oh your story doesn't quite match up with everyone elses? No hormones for you." so what does the trans* person trying to get on hormones say? Exactly what the shrink wants hear.)
That's not to say that's the "wrong" trans* narrative. If that fits for you, then by all means use that to make sense of your identity.

But it's never really fit for me personally.

So I'm a pretty narcissistic person (understatement of the century).

I love mirrors as well as pictures of myself, but probably not for the reasons that one would expect.

I use these to gauge myself. To see how much of the person looking back at me is "me"

Usually it's not a lot. If I tilt my head a certain way, put on the right make-up, wear the right clothes and stand in specific ways, and the lighting is right, and planets are aligned, then I can almost begin to seethe person looking back at me as "me".
Pictures of me "in the wild" almost never are actually of me.

They're someone else. I remember getting the pictures taken, and I saw through the eyes of the person that was in that picture, but that was never me.

It was a puppet. I moved the strings, but the puppet was never me. Certainly mine, but never me.

This idea of ownership as well as identification I think is at the heart of dysphoria for myself.

When I look at a picture like this

Anybody who knows me would tell me that is me. But it doesn't feel that way for me. I mean technically, yes, It's me. But it feels like a puppet. A costume.

It's not a matter of poor body image. I dare say I was a pretty attractive person as a guy. I was fairly built, and didn't have any problem gaining muscle. I have a pretty good complexion and personally I think my eyes are pretty. (I told you I was narcissistic.) From the point of view of someone whose attracted to all sexes, dissociating myself from the fact that was a picture of my body, I think the guy in that picture is pretty attractive, and probably more so than I am now, presenting as a girl.

But that picture isn't me. I don't see that and see myself. That's not my body. That's not who I am. That's could just as well be some dude. But when I see that my brain has to mentally grapple with the fact that IS me.

And that's dysphoria for me.

It's not the wrong body. It's certainly mine. But it's not an indescribable "me". I don't see myself. I see a puppet.

Transitioning has and continues to make a huge difference. I can look in the mirror and seeing myself looking back at me rather than some puppet isn't a fleeting experience any longer.

It still requires some illusion, If I'm not wearing make-up or somewhat girly clothes the costume looks like it's back.

But I see photos like this that were taken as recently as this week:

 

And I see myself.

It's not perfect. I'm still transitioning. But that's an infinitely better representation of me than the last picture. Those photos are spaced at most seven or so months apart.

A lot can change in seven or so, and I'm curious about the next seven or so months.

And I'm hungry for more pictures. More pictures of me. 

I want to get know me better.

But also I want to show me to other people. I want my parents, my classmates and my sisters, my friends, and acquaintances, my lover, to all see me, and recognize me, not as some costume or puppet

But as me. 

As Natalie.

Because it makes a world of difference.

A little post.

So sometimes I really need bitch.

Okay. Let's be honest. I bitch about things ALOT.

(I can't help myself. It gets me everytime)

But sometimes its nice to look at the positives.

And my life is super awesome right now.

I'm on hormones and transitioning to who I want to be. Changes are becoming apparent. I get to dress up the way I want to.

I have a great group of friends who I hang out with.

A community that accepts me.

A girlfriend who I'm madly crazy in love with, whose in love with me.

I'm in line to have a dream job for the next few years, and provided I get it I won't have to worry about money until I graduate. 

I'm going to school for something I love, taking classes I enjoy.

I live in a sweet house with great roommates.

I'm in a fucking band, making money, for making music. And loving every minute.

Life is fucking awesome.

When I first came out, and the months after, while still at military school, and a lot of the summer afterwards I was in a really terrible place. I didn't' think things would improve.

I'd be pleased to see myself now.

I wish I could go back and tell me life's gonna be great, just hang in there.

Because I didn't have too much in the way of hope.

Because now life is fantastic.

That is all.

I can piss in peace now.

So my first class of the day this quarter is Biology. Every weekday morning at 9 am.

After that class I have a circuits class in another building a good 5-8 minute walk away.

The span in between when one class ends and the next one begins is 10 minutes. No problem right?

Well actually problem.

I have the bladder of a 12 year old.

Combine that with the fact that spironolactone is a diuretic (Makes you pee more) and the fact that I usually drink either a monster of a giant fucking cup of coffee during biology, we do have sort of a problem.

A big problem, especially considering that the only gender neutral bathroom is a detour in the opposite direction of where I need to be, so I'm consistently late to my circuits class by a good five to ten minute, which my teacher doesn't necessarily appreciate. Especially considering I'm one of about 11 people who are in the class.

I've tried using the guys bathroom in the engineering building where my circuits class is, but that is literally the most awkward experience, and probably not the safest. I don't pass or go in girl-mode to class 90% of the time so I can't really use the womens.


But I mean. I HAVE to pee every morning at 10 am. It's fucking clockwork. (Actually its for maintaining homeostasis of water and electrolytes, but still.)

But guess what?

I found a gender neutral bathroom RIGHT OUTSIDE MY BIOLOGY CLASS.

And it's clean. And it locks. And it's completely hidden.

I can pee in peace.

I swear finding new gender neutral bathrooms is like encountering a unicorn.

It's a rare and magical experience.

I don't understand why they don't put the gender neutral bathrooms in plain sight next to the other two bathrooms. Seems screwy to me, but whatevs.

So problem solved. Yay!

I hope you enjoyed this post about my pissing habits. Tune in next week.

Third Month of hormones

Woot, just got my third months worth of hormones.

Always a good feeling.

So I'm working to help start a transgender advocacy group on campus because there really isn't anywhere for us to go, aside from the local support group but that has limits on what it can lobby for out of the virtue of protecting people's confidentiality

Shits been busy and rocky, but we're slowly getting moving.

Who knew starting a group to advocate for the needs and desires of an entire section of a community would be hard?

I mean it will get off the ground. Or I'm gonna die trying. The big problem that I can see happening is that I push for a bunch of shit to happen and people get excited, but without anyone saying hey these things need done a lot of people will lose interest.

It's just a game of building momentum right now.

Anyway, these next two weeks should be fun.

I am fucking broke as shit. Like I'm gonna have about 10 dollars to my name after bills and other expenses until I get paid next in two weeks. I guess there's just going to be a lot of skyrim going on instead of going out.

(Where I basically just run around yelling FUCK YOU and catching butterflies)

It's not too bad, I have food, and my bills will be paid. But nothing extra is happening. I need it to be next quarter so I can get my student loans and be able to have money once again. It'd be nice.

In other news in my life. I'm not sure if I've mentioned this, but I'm the baritone ukulele player of a three person ukulele band in Athens Ohio, so if you're ever around you should check us out. We're called Much Much More and we're sort of a big deal. Here's our band page. On facebook. Like us and all of your hopes and dreams will come true. http://www.facebook.com/pages/Much-Much-More/337188362981870

ALSO

I'm really fucking ridiculously super excited because my girlfriend asked me out to queer prom a while back and it's happening the weekend after next! She's letting me borrow this beautiful black dress from her high school prom and she's gonna wear a girly suit and we're going to be adorable and gay and pretty and asdfl;khasdfkjasd

I'm just really excited.

Post Anarchy / The interview

So this one post every two weeks thing is dumb.

So is once a week.

The thing is, my life doesn't happen in nice manageable chunks like that. So I'm just gonna update whenever.

Fuck the man.

(Shamelessly stolen from this chick I know's tumblr, also foxes are adorable)

Anyway.

So here's the thing that's been dominating my thoughts the past few days.

Job Interview.

Here's the deal.

I'm fucking poor.

I go to school full time, which thankfully is covered by my Dad working for the university. But as far as paying for bills rent, and food I'm on my own, and I'm getting loans out the ass for that. But loans aren't much. They cover my rent, and some transition cost, which are important things. Food and utilities are covered by my ten hour a week minimum wage job, which is actually only a five hour a week minimum wage job because my house got cut. I don't have much money left over.

And to be honest I don't much care for being fucking poor.

But here's the thing. Resident Assistants get a pretty much free dorm room, as well as a grand a semester. What's more is that there's special populations, like international students, or substance free, or in my case, gender neutral housing, which is pretty much designed for trans* people.  The job description fits me pretty damn well.

This sounds like a awesome job that I could do, and do well.

And I wouldn't be as poor. I'd have much more money that I could spend on transitioning, and buying pretty things. (Although I hate to sound stereotypical I would love some bitching shoes. Which are expensive, especially for a size 13 womens.)

So I'd get an extra two grand a year, and the 3.5 grand I'm already getting in student loans would be mine to keep. While I would be making payments on various bullshit (Phone bill from at&t that I got with army money, I'm looking at you), as well as paying back my parents for various stuff, I'd be able to keep a pretty hefty sum of that and possibly even begin saving up for some surgeries.

So basically I could be financially secure, and afford nice things until I graduate and then I'll have a pretty engineering degree which will see me through having a job and being financially secure after graduation. (Thank the flying spaghetti monster the field I'm in love with actually has job prospects, unlike say, english, or theatre).

So yeah this would basically be a dream job for the next two years. So I sent in an application with some recommendations.

And I applied as a girl. (sort of)

I had to put my legal name and everything, but I put my preferred name next to it, and put female as the gender marker (Hey, they asked for gender).  I made it pretty explicitly clear that I am trans* in the application too, which should be okay, since gender identity is on my university's non-discrimination policy. (Which, as most people should know doesn't mean discrimination doesn't actually happen)

And surprisingly/awesomely enough, I got an interview.

Fuck yes.

Now in the past, I've interviewed pretty well. I've never gone into an interview and not gotten a job, although I've only done like 3. I'm pretty well-spoken if I do say so myself. (Although it doesn't hurt that I'm a better bullshitter, for the most part.)

But this is different. I was always really good at going in, and being the stereotypical all-american boy with a strong handshake and abusing the fuck out of my privilege to earn a job. This is how I got my prestigious four-year paid army scholarship (in addition to being decent at standardized like the ACT which I got a 31 or 32  on.)

I couldn't necessarily do that for this interview.

I know I'm definitely going to be full time presenting female by next school year regardless of whether or not I get this job, because at the rate I'm going my body on hormones won't let me do anything else (As well as the incredible mental relief that will bring). So I'd much rather be presenting female from the get go. Which is what I did.

Can I just say that I was nervous as fuck going into that interview?

The day before it really hit me that this was the route I chose, and I needed to figure out a semi-formal outfit to go into the interview. I was wigging the fuck out running around my room desperately trying to figure out what to wea, should I wear a sports bra and look like I don't actually have any boobs (sports bras are ridiculously comfy and at the moment make my chest still appear relatively flat), or should I wear a real big-girl bra, which will make it very obvious? Should I wear eyeliner? How about mascara? Shit I still have redness from laser the other day (Still hurt like hell) Is cover-up going to take care of that.

I was a fucking mess.

So I got my shit together, whined to my girlfriend for a little while via text (She's away at MBLGTACC a big LGBT conference in Iowa this weekend.) and figured everything out. Still nervous though. I half suspected walking in and them just being like "Why does this dude have eyeliner on and boobs?"

So interview came around, I walked in told them I was Nat (last name) (I usually go by Nat instead of Natalie in day to day, because it's shorter and won't immediately out me if I don't want to be outed) and did the interview.

And I think it went pretty well. I answered questions pretty decently, and explicitly mentioned I was trans* a few times, in regards to diversity and creating safe spaces, and the two interviewers were really nice.

But I don't find out for another week or two if I made it to the next round of the application process (A one quarter long class, which I'm pretty sure I will rock the shit out of)

So yeah. We'll see. It sounds almost too good, so something will get fucked up and it won't work out knowing my luck.

Here's a picture of me in my room after my interview.

(I really should figure out a way to take pictures on something other than my webcam.)

On an unrelated note I'm thinking about dying my hair the blackish/blue it was before it faded away. Right now it's pretty much my natural color, which is boring, but I don't really have any money to burn on hair dye right now either.

More updates when I feel like it (Hopefully shorter ones)

Two Months! (Or "How the fuck did this happen" AKA "Yay boobs")

So I've officially been on hormones for two months at 5:30 on the 22.

This past month I've done pretty much just three things. Schoolwork, gay & trans* stuff, and hanging out with my lovely girlfriend, whose crashed out in my bed right behind me as I write this, recovering from some illness that I will likely catch in another day or two.

We'll knock out some non transies stuff first.

The reason this is late as fuck is because I've been super busy and continue to be super busy with midterms.

Here's something weird for me.

I'm pretty sure this is the first time in college, or school really, that I've actually had to study shit. And you know, do homework. Since high school I've always just been able to attend class/lecture, and walk out of there with B's and A's without putting forth much effort at all. That carried onto my freshman year of college at the military school (which is good because there was literally no time for schoolwork outside of class, given all the military shit we had to do) and most of last quarter with the exception of massive cram sessions towards the end.

Now it's like every night and day, I'm doing problems for my two engineering classes, going over differential equation bs because my teacher speaks very little English and likes ramble instead of, you know, teach. And biology takes up large swaths of time because so much material is being covered in such short time.

And I'm not going to lie to you:

I fucking love it. 

I'm enjoying the shit out of being busy. And my classes are reminding me how much I want to be an engineer. I love the logic puzzles, the circuits, learning about the brain (I actually had a small learning-gasm while our ordinarily very boring professor was describing how synapses in the brain work)

My classes are at just the right level of challenging without being overwhelming. Add that to the fact that I'm starting to actually get a little organized, (I am literally the least organized person in the world, as one glimpse at my room, or my notebooks would tell you.) just makes me feel really good about being in school for something I love.

It definitely doesn't hurt that my girlfriend is encouraging that, making sure I get my stuff done, we study and do our separate homework together. I have a really bad habit of doing what those around me are doing, and since she's really studious, I become really studious, which is an immense help.

I have noticed something though. I don't really hang out with non-queer people very much. Given that engineering tends to be really conservative and most the people in my class tend to just sort of stare at me, and then look away really quickly if I glance in their direction (I guess they don't want to catch THE GAY), and so with one or two exceptions I don't really talk or hang out with people in my major. Which kind of blows because I love nerding out about engineering stuff, and don't know many other queer engineers. So maybe that can be a project for the next month or so. Talk to people. I dunno.

Anyway. (So at this point your probably thinking "Natalie you ramble a fucking lot." to which I will reply "Yes I do", and then continue with a different story.)

I'm helping to start a Trans* advocacy group on campus right now. It's a ton of work at the moment, but luckily it's all being done online as far as organization is concerned. This is something that's been talked about between those involved in the trans* community here for a while, especially since our only way to meet is through the local trans* support group, which runs into confidentiality issues if we try to use that for anything public. So that's in it's fetal stages, right now and we'll see what comes of that.

On a slightly different note I've been having some feelings about my name. Well I guess it's not really my name. My old name rather. All of the people I know who I interact with in my day to day life call me either Nat or Natalie. Pronouns aren't as commonly gotten right, with the exception of a few close friends, but that's not as big a deal at the moment.

Anyway, I was at the library with a few friends, and I suppose after midnight you need to present your student ID to prove that you're a student. Okay, whatever, no big deal. But I didn't have mine on me, so when the guy strolled around asking for IDs, I asked him if I could just tell him my student number instead. He said sure, I told him, and then he asked for a name. I hesitated for a minute about to say "Nat *last name*, but instead realized that he probably needed my old, legal, name.

And so I said that instead.

One of my friends at the table with us, just stared at me and said "Wow, that looked really fucking painful."

And it literally was. It felt like being punched in the gut. I'm not sure if it was the name itself or the fact that I never wanted any of my friends to view me as "My old Name" rather than Nat or Natalie. I felt like fucking crying.

It plain sucked.

And I mean I still use my old name. My parents and siblings use it. But that sucks too. To a lesser degree because I'm more or less used to it. But I wish I could convey how much it would mean to me if they started using Nat or Natalie instead of my old name.

I dunno. Just being blatantly reminded that I sometimes have to play someone else entirely fucking blows, in a way that's hard to explain.

Rambling and bitching.

Sorry.

As far as actual body stuff goes I'm actually starting to see the results of laser which is GLORIOUS.

I mean my face is still hairy and I still have to shave, but it's a fuckton less dense, and there are patches where there's no hair at all. I think after 3 more of the treatments then I should only have to shave maybe once a week or so. Basically very rarely. At most I might have to do a once annual upkeep thing after that, since electrolysis isn't really an option in my area, but still that's so much better than shvaing every goddamn morning.

Also Boobs!

Still not quite a cup-size yet, but they're definately getting more noticeable. I'm not sure what I'm going to do come time when I can't just throw on a hoodie over them and be able to pass okay as a cis-dude so I can go about my daily life relatively unharassed.

It's one thing to have a bag covered in rainbows and buttons clearly spelling you out as trans*. Or have your friends use female pronouns and name in front of people you don't know. That might garner a few raised eyebrows, at most.

It's quite another thing to be walking around in between genders, and not just in a wearing girl's jeans sort of way, more of "You have boobs, but you look sort of like a guy"-way. That might garner a bit more than raised eyebrows, and I'll have to be more careful about doing certain things, like walking around alone at night. Or using certain bathrooms (Thank Cthulhu for gender neutral restrooms).

I mean don't get me wrong. I'm fucking excited about all these body changes.

They're awesome!

But it's a lot easier to write about nervousness than being more comfortable in your own body. There's more words for nervousness. Suffice to say I'm really fucking enjoying the effects of hormones.

Anyway. Gotta get back to studying.

P.S. I think I'm going to start doing every other week instead of every week, because like I said, I'm busy as fuck, but that will also give me more time to write about trans* stuff that doesn't necessarily relate to my transition which I really want to do.

Week Six!

Okay, so I've had like the best week ever.

(with the exception of when I got my hormones, but I mean that was more crazy/lifechanging/emotional, and this is more just everything is awesome sort of thing.)

Schools back in session. I finally have something to do with my life again. My class schedule is a lot less ridiculous than it was last quarter which is awesome. (Apparently having 9 hours of lab classes every week in addition to having a full regular class schedule and working a part time job wasn't as good an idea for my mental health as one might think)

But since school's back in session that also means that all my friends are back, which is super-exciting! Most of my friends are queer as well, and fit somewhere under the alphabet soup lgbt umbrella. Which is fabulous in every sense of the word.

And I'm going to go on a brief tangent for a minute, so bear with me. One thing I've noticed though, we all joke about gay things. Stereotypes, euphemisms, innuendo, all that fun stuff. It's legitimately hilarious. We never joke about trans* things.

And there are quite a few trans* identified, and gender variant people in our group (although I'm the only one transitioning at the moment) And I'm not sure how I feel about that. It's sort of unmentioned. Trans* jokes don't really pop up, other than for the sake of "Oh hey we've got an entire alphabet here" sort of jokes.

I mean to be fair I really fucking hate things like obviously cis-gender guys in drag for the sake of a joke. Like that horrible abc series that's staring up.

(*Shudder* Let us never speak of this again)

So, on one hand it's sort of relieving, but on the other I wonder/worry if me being trans* might make some of my friends uncomfortable, or if they feel like it's a subject that just shouldn't be joked about, or if it's just something that never crosses their mind.

I'm not sure how I'd take a trans* joke. I mean at a party for new years, this one guy who is as camp as a row a tents and was on the border of complete liver failure came up to me said "Nat come here, ya' trannie bitch, give me a hug."

ಠ_ಠ

I mean, Browhat? 

I judged him with my judging eyes.

Then again I really fucking hate the word "trannie", especially from people who aren't trans* identified. I mean he's sort of my friend/acquaintance, and still is I suppose. And he apologized later, and I'm not about to hold something against someone they say 'cause they're shitty wasted. I've been there. But still.

Fucking A

Maybe it's best to just joke about the homo stuff for the moment and leave the trans* stuff out. I dunno. More on this later. Need to think about it.

Anyway. Tangent Over. Back to awesomeness.

(This was actually posted on the wall of my barracks at military school. Flawless victory.)

I finally scheduled an appointment for laser hair removal on my face. Which is absolutely epic. It's relatively cheap  from what I can tell ($150 per session, for four sessions), and almost literally right next to my house. I can walk there. I don't know why I was never able to find this place before with all my googling.

I mean it's a legit dermatology clinic, and you have to licensed to use the equipment they're going to use, so I'm not going to show-up pay 150 bones and have them just shine a little laser pointer on my face and tell me
I'm good to go.

It's going to be so nice to wake up in the morning and not be immediately dysphoric because I have to shave these nasty fucking pube hairs growing out of my face. I can't wait. My first appointment is on the 11th, at 4:20, which gives me interesting ideas on how I might be able to deal with the pain, (although I hear it's not too bad).

Oh, and I got my lip pierced yesterday! I always feel so fucking shwanky when I get new peircings. It's like a little switch. Swag on. Fucking exciting. I really like it, although my lip is swollen as hell right now, and it's sore as shit.

Also exciting news, I got a kitty!!!

(Created by billions of years of evolution, the sleek and deadly killing machine, in the flesh.)

His name is J'zargo (if you get the reference there's a good chance we can probably be best friends). He was a stray, but now he's my own little babykins, and I love him dearly. 

He's absolutely adorable.

And also batshit insane.

He tries to pounce on EVERYTHING. He does midair flips when playing. And he cuddles with me at night. And falls asleep in my lap, and in boxes. I can't stop trying to take pictures of him with my webcam.

My girlfriend keeps on telling me I'm gonna turn into a crazy cat lady.

(You'll notice that eventually regardless of how cute a girl is you'll eventually stop giving a shit and not want to hear about her fucking cat anymore. Shamelessly stolen from Dmitri Martin)

Speaking of which. New news, I have a girlfriend now. She's fucking terrific. I mean we've been kind of sort of dating, but now it's official. Happy feelings all around. I mean. God, she's beautiful. And smart. And makes me laugh. And is shamelessly adorable. And she considers me her girlfriend without a second thought. 

To be pretty honest, she's pretty much all around super awesome.

There's just a ridiculous number of good things about her. Like how since we both identify as pansexual and point out attractive people to each other. Or how we cuddle. Or paint our nails together. Or how we talk about everything.

Fuck. I'm gushing. 

But yeah, ANYWAY. Awesome week. Hopefully it continues. Now that I finally have money from my student loans I can go for realsies grocery shopping, and I've been craving jalapenos like a motherfucker. Weirdness. I think I'm gonna see if my roommates mom can trim my hair since I haven't had a cut since I shaved it completely in February (yes purging is pretty terrible, and yes, I looked like a neo-nazi. The uniform didn't help). Apparently she cuts hair. So awesome sauce. Anyways. I promised a shitty drunk picture of myself from new years. That didn't really happen, so it will have to wait. In the meantime here's me and little Jazzy cuddling (J'zargo's nickname is Jazzy, apparently it's a hard to remember for people not well versed in Khajiit names.)

(Not sure I pull of that fashion mullet as well as Tegan and Sara :P)

Voice

So I originally was going to post this in my Week Five Update, but I sort of began to ramble and that became long as hell, and plus I figure this deserves it's own post anyway.


Probably more than anything but facial hair, my male voice right now makes me feel incredibly dysphoric. Which fucking sucks.I literally find myself talking less because I hate my voice so much. It's deep and somewhat gravelly, and not at all what I want to sound like.

What's worse is that when I'm in awkward conversations, which are pretty frequent for me, or when I'm feeling really dysphoric or out of my element in a conversation, I tend to drop my voice to a almost comically low tone. Which, as one might imagine, doesn't help the situation much for me, even though usually the person I'm talking to might not notice it.


So I've told quite a few of my friends that once school starts back up after the new year that I'm probably going to sound a bit different, and not to laugh at me, because it's going to sound horrible.


You see, I've been practicing my voice on and off since April, especially in the last month. And I'd be lying if I said I wasn't terrified to actually use in an actual conversation.

Here's the problem.

Well multiple problems.

First of all I'm struggling with what I talked about in a previous post, in that I'm worried that I'll try too hard and it will sound even less like a girls voice. I mean my "girl voice" (for lack of a better way to differentiate the way I've been practicing to speak) doesn't sound like minnie mouse or anything. It probably sounds more androgynous than anything else, but that leads me to the problem that I might not be making it feminine-sounding enough. It's difficult to tell if I'm landing on too low, too high, too much "chest" or "head" or a million other variables, with just my own ears to judge, even if I do record it with a mic and play it back to myself.

Which leads me to another problem. I've never actually used my voice in a conversation. It's always just been alone in my room talking into my computer and then playing it back to myself. Repeating the same thing over and over again. The most variable practice I've gotten is reading things occasionally. I have no way of knowing if I'll be able to maintain the right range when talking. Or if I'm scared, upset, happy, trying to think, drunk, using different tones or anything else. It's all incredibly foreign.

And all those things that use your voice but aren't actually talking, like laughing, coughing and a million of other things.

There's just so much room to fuck up.

And I mean I have really awesome friends. I doubt any of them would ever laugh at me because I accidentally slip back into "dude voice" mid-sentence. But still. I just don't want that to happen even though I know it will.

I mean in all honesty I'm going to absolutely suck in the beginning. But

 

(Adventure Time is basically win in purified form)

And I know Jake's right. I've done it with everything from teaching myself guitar to learning about computers, to school. Story of my life at this point.

.

I'll steadily get more used to sounding closer to what I want to sound like, and my fuck-ups will become less frequent. I'll eventually get down things like laughing and whatnot. And in the long-run everything will be totally spiffy.

But I am fucking terrified of those first steps. I know I'm gonna fuck up. A lot. I'm gonna need to force myself. And it's probably going to sound forced, which scares me even more.

Week Five

So Christmas has just passed, and 2011, as well as winter break from school is rapidly coming to an end, Which means a bunch of friends are coming back to the lovely little college town I live in to drink with me. Oh, and school.

Which is awesome.

Anyways, word vomit from the week.

Starting with fun HRT stuff; Let me preface this with the fact I haven't actually put on any additional weight (although I'm read quite a bit of anecdotal evidence that E usually means weight-gain, so it's probably coming)

I feel like I'm starting to fit into my jeans a bit differently. They're seeming a bit tighter, which means apparently my ass is getting larger. To be completely honest I'm not sure it really is. It's likely just my imagination, but luckily for me, that's why I keep pretty regular body measurements so I'll be able to say whether or not it really is in two weeks or so.

My abs are also no-longer is the 6-pack it once was. It's quite a bit more fleshy. I mean I don't have a gut or anything but it's just sort of a bit more flat. I'm not sure if that's from fat beginning to redistribute itself, not actually having worked out for almost 9 months, or me gaining fat and at the same time losing muscle, keeping my weight the same. Most likely a combination of all three. I mean I definately still have a dudely looking stomach, but it's an interesting change.

My chest is also starting to appear to be shaped a bit differently. It's hard to put into words. It still hurts like hell, but that's definitely getting a little more fleshy too. Which, not going to lie, I'm super-stoked about. Who doesn't like boobs? But I don't think I qualify to have anything placed into a cup-size.

Emotions are really just continued craziness. Everything is so much more extremely intense than it was before, but in a really awesome way. I mean I really can't complain. Even being sad is better than pre-hrt.

I'm getting weirdly really super-excited about small things. Like something cool happening on a show, or getting a heart container playing zelda has me jumping around my room with happiness.  Which is really cool. Happiness is always a plus.

And (family, look away) my sex drive seems to be returning. Might get a bit TMI here, but after getting on testosterone blockers you realize how much that chemical really just makes you want to HUMP EVERYTHING. And that feeling pretty much just disappears after you're on T-blockers. I mean don't get me wrong, I still got aroused, but it took a lot more to get me there, and didn't just sort of happen randomly, while I was making eggs or something. Since starting estrogen, my sex drive seems to be slowly returning but arousal is definately a different sort of feeling. It's difficult to put into words, and I could probably write a whole post about it, but it's much more of a whole body sort of feeling rather than concentrated wholly in the pelvic region. Which is pretty awesome.

ANYWAY, switching gears slighty.

I've  made a new record for bursting into tears at the most innocent thing: Sitting at my computer and this song coming on.

(Although to be fair, it's an absolutely beautiful song by a terrific band)

So yeah emotions. Crazy shit.

Christmas with my family went pretty awesomely if I do say so myself. I mean my family doesn't use my preferred name or pronouns or anything, but the highlight of my Christmas (aside from seeing my little brothers unwrap there presents, and then me subsequently stealing all their toys and playing with them) was seeing my name on Christmas gifts from my wonderful sisters, and even on about half my gifts from my parents, which was pretty huge for me, and really meant a lot.

It was also really terrific to see my lovely oldest sister, Taylor, and her wonderful husband, Dom, which doesn't happen enough, since he's in the army and they live together way down in the far away land of North Carolina.

After Christmas didn't go so well though. I had a bit of a falling out with my mother, which sucks. But I'm pretty confident it won't last too long. I know she cares a lot for me, but for the time being, I guess we're not really talking, which is pretty saddening. I wish they didn't, I suppose these things happen.

I am incredibly excited for New years though. Friends are coming back, school is starting back up, all sorts of fun shit. And the beautiful girl I'm talking to is finally coming back. Sempur stoked.

I'll probably do an actual New Years post, hopefully before midnight tomorrow, but if not then probably on New years day, because there definitely is some stuff I'd like to get into writing about 2011 and the new year, but this post seems to be plenty long enough as is. I'll try to get an awful drunken photo of myself to post on the internet tomorrow.

Toodles

Overdoing It

So when I first went into the endocrinologist, one who actually specialized in transgender care, I pretty much went fully in "Dude-mode" with a really good friend of mine who is cis-gender female and rocks a badass mohawk, and also tends to be fairly butch. The first thing the endo said when she walked in was "Okay, which of you is Nat?" Okay, definitely a fair enough question, and I sheepishly said I was.

Anyway, the conclusion of this first endo-visit was this little gem. The endocrinologist had told me that basically that "most trans-women who came in had a tendency to over play any sort of femininity, they caked on make-up, they wore skirts, were excited to show off their shoes and it wasn't until later that they usually fell into a type of femininity that fit them better" I was wearing boys jeans, a baggy t-shirt, and some old running shoes. I had a therapist letter, but she decided that she just wanted to start me out on testerone blockers so she could give me some more time to "settle into my role, and make sure it was right for me before starting out on actual hrt"

(The next time I came in I had on way too much eyeliner, my tightest jeans, and a cute sweatshirt, and she perscribed me HRT. My letter from my therapist was the same it was the first time I went in, and the only change to my convictions was that now I knew that I functioned better without testosterone, rather than suspected it.)

While plenty could be said about gate-keeping as a larger societal problem for the trans* community from this experience, what I got from it at the time was this.

I was and continue to be absolutely terrified of over-doing my feminity and looking "false"

I don't want to look like a cross-dresser

I don't want to look like a "drag-queen". That was what kept in the closet to myself for so long

 (although I've since realized that there are MANY incredibly gorgeous drag queens, like Manila Luzon) 

I'm not even super-femme to begin with. I don't know that I'd describe myself as butch, but I definately prefer jeans over dresses.

It's not that I hate dresses, or make-up.

It's just that I often feel super-dysphoric wearing them. I feel like I'm trying too hard. That, as my mother puts it, I'll be "a mockery of women" (God, I hate that phrase)

I'll be honest, I like to pretend confidence, because when you're confident in yourself people tend to be confident in you, but wearing make-up in public, or wearing explicitly female clothes?

That terrifies me.

That I could try my hardest but know that's not going to be good enough. That people will perceive as a "man in a dress" instead of what I am, a girl.

I can play off tight jeans, and shirts. I like having my nails painted pretty colors. But those are all things that I can do without immediately advertising that I'm trans*.

In my one-month photo, I was convinced that I would look awful wearing a flower in my hair and some make-up. I was nervous and the only reason I was able to pull it off is because I consumed quite a bit of alcohol and the person standing next to me in that photo, whose one of my best friends, had to validate that I didn't look awful. I can't put on eyeliner without first asking my friends if I should, when I should, by all means, be able to own that sort of shit.

And I'll be honest, I like that picture a lot. It may damn well be the best I've taken so far. I wish I could look like that everyday!

But I would never have been able to do something like that in public (or in this case at a Christmas party) by myself.

And I'm not even dressed that femininely in that picture! I'm wearing a button down and jeans (even if they are girls). I simply cannot imagine myself pulling off something that shows my shoulders, or anything without legs. I can't do the nylon-stocking-birdseed-breast.

One day I really hope that I can (things like sundresses that is; I'd much rather have my own breast attached to my body, thank-you very much), and in all honestly I'll probably ease presenting more "femininely". But I can't just do it right off the bat. I'll feel like a "guy in a dress", that I'll try too hard and only look like a parody instead. That terrifies me.

The problem is that I'm incredibly afraid of being perceived as a "fake-woman", and not even by others. It's more a struggle with myself than anything else. It makes me more dysphoric to look down and see fake breast, than it does to see my flat chest. The former only reminds me of male body more. Which sucks.

And that may be non-politically-trans*-correct. Being trans* is something that no-one should ever have to be ashamed of, or afraid to broadcast. Call it internalized trans* phobia, but I have difficulty acting as though that were true, even when I know in my head that it's just as valid to be trans* as it is to be cis-gender.

And I'm openly out as a trans-woman to pretty much everyone I know! I shouldn't have to worry about this shit! But it's not really about other people. It's about me.

I think it's awesome that a lot of trans-women who are transitioning can leap to super feminine and then gradually slide back on the scale until they reach a point where they're comfortable.

But I can't do that. Instead, my way of figuring out where I land on the broad, complicated scale of gender expression is to gradually slide over from male to female, keep the male things I like and slowly adopt the female things I like. I know my comfort range will expand though, especially as my body changes, but I'll be damned if it will expand easily, without me fighting myself each step of the way.

1 Month!

So today marks the 1 month anniversary of when I started hormones.

So initial impressions?

Female hormones are awesome. 

For physical changes, bear in mind I was on spironolactone (testosterone blockers) for about 2 months before I started.

So then, gory details, which may, or may not end up being more information than you bargained for.

When I went in to the endocrinologist to start full hrt I already had the beginning of breast buds, these hard little nasty things under the nipple that are the beginning of breast development. In this first month, they've gotten quite a bit bigger and a hell of a lot more sensitive. And I still haven't quite adjusted to them.

For example I'll open up a door and slightly swipe them with it. And goddamn it hurts. I mean holy shit. It's not quite as bad as being kicked in the dangly bits, but it still hurts like a motherfucker.

They also poke through shirts in a weird, really unattractive way. Layers are a positive. Let me just say I'm pretty glad it's winter. It's just weird because there's no actual breast development happening, although I know that's on the way.

My skin also feels much softer than it did a month ago. Especially on my face. I still haven't gotten facial hair removal (next on my list of things to do transition wise, and laser will probably happen sometime in January), but it has thinned out significantly. Which is strange because most trans* resources say that hormones don't affect facial hair growth. 

Body Hair is definitely thinning though, which is fantastic because it means I don't have to shave my legs daily, which is a near impossible task.

And while I don't have any way to measure this objectively, I feel like my sense of smell is improving. That is probably more likely due quitting smoking than from hormones though. (I quit about the same time that I started HRT)

I also have a little tape measure and have been keeping measurements of myself, because I know the human mind likes to make up evidence where there isn't any. The only real changes in so far as measurements go in the past month is that I've lost a bit off my waist, which is probably more due to diet than anything else.

Mental Changes have been much crazier in this first month than physical. I go into detail about them on my Week Three Update.

Basically I'm just a lot more emotional about everything.

One weird thing is that I think I need to relearn how to handle stress. I was always pretty cool-headed before being on hormones but that's changed quite a bit. Maybe it's because I'm more involved and invested emotionally in the world around me, but for example my house started flooding today because the temperature-pressure valve on my hot water tank was broken.

I didn't know this at the time.

I just saw water pouring out of it like a faucet and flipped shit. I had no idea what I was doing and was worried this was going to cost me a metric shitton of money (which it shouldn't, thank eight-pound, six ounce, baby Jesus), and by the time I figured out that hey, I should just shut off the water valve, and by the end of it, I was shaking. So yeah, I need to figure out a way to deal with stress in a manner that doesn't involve breaking down.

Scary movies are also immensely more entertaining. I freaked the fuck out watching "The Descent". Which was sort of fun. But also terrifying. I really don't like things popping out at me, more-so now than ever. But it's like riding a rollercoaster.

And I'm also getting bad cravings, for chocolate mostly (stereotypical, I know) but also for strange things, like for example I was really craving some jalapeno cheetos earlier today.

I feel a lot more childish, and care-free as well if that makes sense. I'm smiling a lot more. I'm quite a bit more expressive. My body language has changed pretty significantly. This is probably more of me being comfortable with myself than an actual effect of hormones though. It's a wonder what self-acceptance can do for you.

The biggest emotional change though, is that I dysphoric a lot less frequently than I did before I was on hormones, which is really awesome.

I definitely react stronger to dysphoria when I do though, and it tends to hit me a lot quicker.

For example I was having a great day earlier this week. I had moments where I looked at my reflection and thought "Fuck yeah, this is coming along nicely". And then I got home, saw my reflection out of the corner of my eye, and spent the next half-hour crying into a pillow and then another good long time talking to my lovely lady-friend who helped me through everything. But yeah crazy mood swings.

All I can say is that it's really awesome having people you know you can talk to. Anyway, this post was mostly just rambling, but here's a picture of me drunk off my ass at a Christmas party earlier this week, so you can sort of see how I'm changing. (And this one has make-up, which is always exciting)

(I'm on the right, with one of my best friends on the left, and coincidentally this is my first explicitly female presenting picture on facebook and it's also my profile picture, which is kind of awesome.)

Anyway, more next week, provided I survive the craziness that is the holidays. Stay Frosty.

One Week on HRT

So I've been on HRT for one week today.

Prior to HRT I was on just testosterone blockers for a little under 3 months.

Spiro calmed me down, made my mind race less and made me feel a bit better. I was still living with daily dysphoria, but things were better.

Being on estrogen is all of that and more. It's almost indescribable. It might just be that the novelty is still there, but I've got a bounce to my step. I feel more like "ME" in a way that isn't really conveyable by words. I smile more, and there's a measurable decrease in the amount of dysphoria I feel. I feel more empathetic. Color seems brighter,  and I notice it more. I smile more.

Life is just better. 

It almost feels a bit like I've watching TV in black and white and then BAM.  Estrogen turns on the color. And then makes everything high definition.  

Again though this might not be due just to the hormones themselves; me knowing that I'm finally transitioning medically is bound to have positive psychological effects, so your mileage may vary.

But damn does it feel nice!

I've read a lot that says for most MtF spectrum trans* people being on hormones makes the lows lower and the highs higher. I've only felt the latter though. Luckily I'm not really going through ridiculous mood swings right now, which ordinarily are made even more extreme by taking progesterone, which I'm on. I'm sure they're on their way though. For the most part it's just been good vibes all the way down.

As far as physical changes go ( and bear in mind that this is also the result of 3 months on spiro, but full HRT does seem to have accelerated everything), my skin on my face feels a bit softer, the little mosquito bites on my chest are sore as hell, and poke through thin t-shirts, which is about normal for early stages of breast growth. Body and facial hair, has thinned out quite a bit, and grows quite a bit slower.

I'm also still losing quite a bit of muscle and currently weigh about 150lb-155lb at 5'10", and the vast majority of what was lost was muscle. I'm hoping to keep on losing weight and get down to 140ish, which is typically about a healthy body weight for cis-gendered females at my height.  From what I've heard is incredibly difficult to lose weight while on HRT, but well see. With the exception of the whole male-bodied thing I'm pretty good at making my body do what I want, and have put on muscle, lost muscle, put on weight and lost weight before. 

Also it might be psychosomatic but I feel like my face looks a bit "softer"? I'm not sure how to describe it.

Anyway

Here is a quick webcam photo I took. 

I think that it will probably be very interesting to see this photo in a year or two, if other internet transition timelines are anything to go by.

More updates later