It's definitely time for me to start thinking about when and how I'm going to transition at work. Outside of work I'm now living as myself pretty much full time and am pretty much fully out. And the further along I get in that process, the more difficult it
becomes to keep hearing my old name at work, not to mention having to
sign it on paperwork. On top of that, the number of co-workers who already know is steadily increasing: there are five whom I know for sure know, plus who knows if some may have heard rumours or guessed.
I recently got gendered correctly by a customer. I do powder coating, which is a method of painting metal products. My company does a lot of work for a lot of different clients. Yesterday, because he likes to jump the gun, my boss had called a client to tell them their order was done and ready for pickup without first checking in with my department. In reality one of the pieces had some flaws and needed to be re-painted. So the customer walks in to the shop with one of the shippers while I'm there sanding down the bad area on this piece, and I hear him say: "Oh, what's she doing? Is she still working on it?" At which point I look up and explain the situation and apologize, saying it'd probably be ready in about an hour.
It was a perfectly normal, mundane workplace interaction, but it felt so nice to get a brief reprieve from the constant misgendering. I was smiling about it for a while afterwards.
Yup, pretty soon I need to have a chat with the management about how exactly we're going to go about this. My strong preference is to keep everything low key and not make a big deal of it. Once that's done I'll have basically finished the social part of my transition. Hmm... I guess next I'll start focusing on the whole legal name change thing. There's always a next step, isn't there?
Showing posts with label transition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label transition. Show all posts
Saturday, 14 May 2016
Saturday, 26 March 2016
Back on track
It really sucked having to stop HRT at the beginning of this month. Unable to get a prescription, and having difficulties importing what I needed to self-medicate, I ended up going off both hormones and blockers for about three weeks. That ended on Thursday when, to my tremendous joy, I saw that a parcel had come in the mail for me and knew immediately what it was: my sweet lovely little blue pills. Praise Iravan! (Iravan being the patron deity of trans people in Hinduism.) I'm now back on spiro and estradiol and everything feels right with the world once more.
And not only is my HRT back on track, so is my progression towards getting a proper prescription. I went to the doctor today for the results of my blood test and everything was in healthy ranges. He's going to refer me to an endocrinologist, he just wants to find one who specifically deals with trans issues. He said he'd look around at who's available and get back to me on Monday.
In other news, yesterday I went out on my first actual proper date as a girl, which was kind of exciting. As it happens, the girl I went out with was kinda like really super awkward. Like, I thought I would be the awkward one when it came to dating but not in this case lol. That's okay though, it was still fun. It feels good to be getting out of the house and meeting someone new, too. I think we'll probably hang out again. :)
And not only is my HRT back on track, so is my progression towards getting a proper prescription. I went to the doctor today for the results of my blood test and everything was in healthy ranges. He's going to refer me to an endocrinologist, he just wants to find one who specifically deals with trans issues. He said he'd look around at who's available and get back to me on Monday.
In other news, yesterday I went out on my first actual proper date as a girl, which was kind of exciting. As it happens, the girl I went out with was kinda like really super awkward. Like, I thought I would be the awkward one when it came to dating but not in this case lol. That's okay though, it was still fun. It feels good to be getting out of the house and meeting someone new, too. I think we'll probably hang out again. :)
Wednesday, 24 February 2016
At the doctor
Okay, so I went to see a doctor today. On the bright side, it looks like I won't have to be gated by a psychiatrist to get the prescriptions I need. I explained to the doctor that I'd been taking hormones for two and half months and that the change in my mental wellbeing had been both huge and positive. That seemed to convince him that I'm trans for realsies. On the not-so-bright side, because he's concerned about my safety (and/or an asshole), he won't prescribe me either spiro or estradiol until I see an endocrinologist, and he won't refer me to an endo until I get blood work done.
Huh. It's almost like he suspects my long history of ignoring doctors' instructions and generally trying to game medical system. Which makes sense I guess, I did just tell him I'd been taking dangerous prescription drugs without any medical supervision for two and a half months.
(In retrospect I kind of wish I'd argued with him a little on the spiro at least. I mean for goodness' sake, spiro is routinely prescribed for things like male-pattern baldness and acne, it's not like it's a "big deal" the way estradiol is. Maybe if I'd told him I was worried about my hairline??)
In any event, I was able to schedule the blood test for tomorrow; hopefully things continue to move along at a decent pace. I'm pretty optimistic that the waiting list for an endo will be significantly shorter than the waiting list for a psych. (The doctor I originally saw wanted me to pass through the psychiatry gate, which had nearly a year-long wait, which is why I started self-medicating in the first place).
On the one hand, I'm happy that there now seems to be a path ahead which is at least manageable. On the other hand, I've now been out of spiro for over a week and will run out of estradiol next week. So unless the waiting list for the endo is really, really short (and obviously it won't be) I'll probably have to make one last sketchy online drug purchase and just hope it doesn't get stopped by customs again. Sigh. :(
Oh yeah, and incidentally: when I told the doctor I was trans, he asked if I was transitioning to male or to female, which was kind of amusing, and, in a way, encouraging, to me. Sometimes I forget that my assigned gender isn't just obvious all the time.
Huh. It's almost like he suspects my long history of ignoring doctors' instructions and generally trying to game medical system. Which makes sense I guess, I did just tell him I'd been taking dangerous prescription drugs without any medical supervision for two and a half months.
(In retrospect I kind of wish I'd argued with him a little on the spiro at least. I mean for goodness' sake, spiro is routinely prescribed for things like male-pattern baldness and acne, it's not like it's a "big deal" the way estradiol is. Maybe if I'd told him I was worried about my hairline??)
In any event, I was able to schedule the blood test for tomorrow; hopefully things continue to move along at a decent pace. I'm pretty optimistic that the waiting list for an endo will be significantly shorter than the waiting list for a psych. (The doctor I originally saw wanted me to pass through the psychiatry gate, which had nearly a year-long wait, which is why I started self-medicating in the first place).
On the one hand, I'm happy that there now seems to be a path ahead which is at least manageable. On the other hand, I've now been out of spiro for over a week and will run out of estradiol next week. So unless the waiting list for the endo is really, really short (and obviously it won't be) I'll probably have to make one last sketchy online drug purchase and just hope it doesn't get stopped by customs again. Sigh. :(
Oh yeah, and incidentally: when I told the doctor I was trans, he asked if I was transitioning to male or to female, which was kind of amusing, and, in a way, encouraging, to me. Sometimes I forget that my assigned gender isn't just obvious all the time.
Tuesday, 19 January 2016
In which I lose my shit over baby bats
I've now been on hormones for six weeks and I am very happy with how it's going. Before I started I wasn't 100% sure about it (and I think that showed in my previous post a bit), but there is now no doubt in my mind whatsoever that HRT is the right choice for me. It's hard to even say what's different but I just feel... better.
Predictably, the physical changes have been very small so far. Sometimes I see my face in the mirror and think it looks a little rounder, other times I think I'm just imagining it. There definitely has been a bit of breast tissue growth, but it doesn't look like boobs yet— my chest just looks slightly "puffy." My nipples are a little bigger and a lot more sensitive than they used to be. And that's about the extent of it. And yet, even though my overall shape is barely any different than it ever was, somehow it just feel different to be in it. I am much, much more comfortable with my body than I've ever been before.
There have been some mental changes as well, though they're a little harder for me to put my finger on. One thing I've definitely noticed, which I was not expecting at all, is a stronger, more visceral reaction to cuteness. It first happened a couple weeks ago: I was hanging out with some friends and for some reason the topic of conversation turned to bats. I brought up a Youtube video of orphaned flying fox pups being wrapped up in blankets. Watching something like that when I was hormonally male I'd have gone "Awwww cute!" and had a big smile. But this time it was more like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS I ACTUALLY CANNOT HANDLE HOW FLIPPING CUTE THESE BATS ARE!!!!!!" It caught me completely off guard, but it felt like a good thing. Since then I've found other trans women on the internet describing the same experience, so it's not just me. Perhaps the perception that girls, on average, have a greater appreciation for cuteness than boys do has a basis in biology.
I'm still looking for a doctor, but I am so glad I chose not to wait for the medical system to let me through its gates. I'd still have at least half a year of misery ahead of me if I had. At least another six months until I could feel this good about my body or lose my shit over baby bats.
On another matter altogether, I didn't post anything about the holidays at the time, but I'd like to mention them briefly. It was a pretty unusual Christmas this year, both for myself and for my family. My mom was sick and in the hospital for a few weeks, my brother and sister-in-law were out of town, and there were (and still are) some other ongoing issues in my family that I won't get into in the blog. On top of all that, my parents got rid of their dogs, who were also family to me, around the same time. So it sort of felt like everyone was everywhere.
Anyways, I ended up not having any plans on Christmas Eve. I was getting ready to spend the 24th sitting at home alone and drinking, which was a bit of a bummer, when I got a text from a friend. Remember a couple posts ago I mentioned meeting this girl online with whom I was supposed to have a date or something? Well, we never did go out thanks to one thing or another coming up every time. But she sent me a message wishing me a "Merry Christmas Eve!" We started talking. It turned out she didn't have any plans either— she was intending to sit at home with her cat and drink. Since that was basically what I was going to do, we decided to do it together. I drove over to her apartment and we drank and listened to music, and then she taught me how to use a bong and we got stoned and we watched Mean Girls. Not a typical Christmas Eve for me, but lovely all the same. :) I left her place early Christmas morning (after crashing on her couch, nothing exciting lol) to meet up with my dad, then he and I went to visit mom in the hospital. Not a typical Christmas either, but parts of it were very nice in their own way.
Predictably, the physical changes have been very small so far. Sometimes I see my face in the mirror and think it looks a little rounder, other times I think I'm just imagining it. There definitely has been a bit of breast tissue growth, but it doesn't look like boobs yet— my chest just looks slightly "puffy." My nipples are a little bigger and a lot more sensitive than they used to be. And that's about the extent of it. And yet, even though my overall shape is barely any different than it ever was, somehow it just feel different to be in it. I am much, much more comfortable with my body than I've ever been before.
 |
| The only makeup I'm wearing here is a quick smear of lipstick. The fact that I'm happy with a selfie that didn't involve a ton of face effort is a testament to that increasing comfort. |
There have been some mental changes as well, though they're a little harder for me to put my finger on. One thing I've definitely noticed, which I was not expecting at all, is a stronger, more visceral reaction to cuteness. It first happened a couple weeks ago: I was hanging out with some friends and for some reason the topic of conversation turned to bats. I brought up a Youtube video of orphaned flying fox pups being wrapped up in blankets. Watching something like that when I was hormonally male I'd have gone "Awwww cute!" and had a big smile. But this time it was more like "OH MY GOD YOU GUYS I ACTUALLY CANNOT HANDLE HOW FLIPPING CUTE THESE BATS ARE!!!!!!" It caught me completely off guard, but it felt like a good thing. Since then I've found other trans women on the internet describing the same experience, so it's not just me. Perhaps the perception that girls, on average, have a greater appreciation for cuteness than boys do has a basis in biology.
I'm still looking for a doctor, but I am so glad I chose not to wait for the medical system to let me through its gates. I'd still have at least half a year of misery ahead of me if I had. At least another six months until I could feel this good about my body or lose my shit over baby bats.
On another matter altogether, I didn't post anything about the holidays at the time, but I'd like to mention them briefly. It was a pretty unusual Christmas this year, both for myself and for my family. My mom was sick and in the hospital for a few weeks, my brother and sister-in-law were out of town, and there were (and still are) some other ongoing issues in my family that I won't get into in the blog. On top of all that, my parents got rid of their dogs, who were also family to me, around the same time. So it sort of felt like everyone was everywhere.
Anyways, I ended up not having any plans on Christmas Eve. I was getting ready to spend the 24th sitting at home alone and drinking, which was a bit of a bummer, when I got a text from a friend. Remember a couple posts ago I mentioned meeting this girl online with whom I was supposed to have a date or something? Well, we never did go out thanks to one thing or another coming up every time. But she sent me a message wishing me a "Merry Christmas Eve!" We started talking. It turned out she didn't have any plans either— she was intending to sit at home with her cat and drink. Since that was basically what I was going to do, we decided to do it together. I drove over to her apartment and we drank and listened to music, and then she taught me how to use a bong and we got stoned and we watched Mean Girls. Not a typical Christmas Eve for me, but lovely all the same. :) I left her place early Christmas morning (after crashing on her couch, nothing exciting lol) to meet up with my dad, then he and I went to visit mom in the hospital. Not a typical Christmas either, but parts of it were very nice in their own way.
Thursday, 10 December 2015
Starting HRT
On Monday, for the first time, I placed a tablet containing 2 mg of estradiol hemihydrate under my tongue and let it dissolve. I found myself thinking: Huh, I guess I'll probably be doing this every day for most of the rest of my life.
The pills taste slightly sweet.
Honestly it doesn't seem like nearly as big a deal to me as I once would have expected it to. I'm certainly very happy about it, but it's less of a giddy excitement and more just a calm, contented sense of peace. (Though, perhaps not unusually for a girl at the beginning of puberty, I do occasionally find myself wondering how long until I have boobs, lol).
I'm DIY-ing things for now. I saw a doctor at a walk-in clinic in August: he put me on spiro but wouldn't give me a prescription for hormones until I saw a psychiatrist. And the psych's waiting list was nearly a year long. So I faced a choice: start HRT without medical supervision, putting myself at risk of liver damage and thrombosis; or wait a year, putting myself at risk of self-harm, substance abuse, and suicide. Those are two very different types of risk but it seemed like the odds of me coming to serious harm in either case were roughly equal. Given that, I of course chose that the option that involved not being completely miserable.
And before you start worrying about me, let me assure you that I'm being very careful here. I made sure to get a blood test done before taking the first pill so that any future doctor I see will have access to what my natural hormonal levels were. I intend to get another blood test after one month— (I haven't quite figured out how to get the referral for that yet, though I imagine that simply going to a walk-in and explaining my situation to a doctor is worth a try). I'm not taking a high dose, 2 mg/day is on the lower part of the recommended range for someone like me. And of course, I will try to get proper medical supervision as soon as possible. I just think it will be easier start HRT first and then find a doctor I can work with, rather than having to convince a doctor to let me get the treatment I need.
I've heard several trans women say that they didn't know for sure that HRT was right for them until after they were already on it. I'm only on day four so perhaps it's no surprise that I haven't had any such magical moment of clarity just yet. At this point what convinces me that I'm doing the right thing is how horrified I am by the thought of stopping— I don't even think I could. But now that I think about it, that's how it's always been for me. When I started presenting in a more feminine way I had doubts whether that was right for me until I considered going back to my old presentation and I realized I wouldn't even be able to. Likewise my horror at the thought of asking people to call me by my old name again is, more than anything else, what convinces me that I need to go by Ashley. And the thought of going back to a male hormonal mix makes me feel the same way.
Huh. Maybe that is my "magical moment of clarity." And it happened just now writing this. I guess that's why I'm a blogger. :)
Well anyways, time to start thinking about the next step: banking my sperm before they all shrivel up and die. I'm not 100% certain I'll want biological kids some day, but I am 100% certain I'll at least want the option. Better get on that posthaste!
The pills taste slightly sweet.
Honestly it doesn't seem like nearly as big a deal to me as I once would have expected it to. I'm certainly very happy about it, but it's less of a giddy excitement and more just a calm, contented sense of peace. (Though, perhaps not unusually for a girl at the beginning of puberty, I do occasionally find myself wondering how long until I have boobs, lol).
I'm DIY-ing things for now. I saw a doctor at a walk-in clinic in August: he put me on spiro but wouldn't give me a prescription for hormones until I saw a psychiatrist. And the psych's waiting list was nearly a year long. So I faced a choice: start HRT without medical supervision, putting myself at risk of liver damage and thrombosis; or wait a year, putting myself at risk of self-harm, substance abuse, and suicide. Those are two very different types of risk but it seemed like the odds of me coming to serious harm in either case were roughly equal. Given that, I of course chose that the option that involved not being completely miserable.
And before you start worrying about me, let me assure you that I'm being very careful here. I made sure to get a blood test done before taking the first pill so that any future doctor I see will have access to what my natural hormonal levels were. I intend to get another blood test after one month— (I haven't quite figured out how to get the referral for that yet, though I imagine that simply going to a walk-in and explaining my situation to a doctor is worth a try). I'm not taking a high dose, 2 mg/day is on the lower part of the recommended range for someone like me. And of course, I will try to get proper medical supervision as soon as possible. I just think it will be easier start HRT first and then find a doctor I can work with, rather than having to convince a doctor to let me get the treatment I need.
I've heard several trans women say that they didn't know for sure that HRT was right for them until after they were already on it. I'm only on day four so perhaps it's no surprise that I haven't had any such magical moment of clarity just yet. At this point what convinces me that I'm doing the right thing is how horrified I am by the thought of stopping— I don't even think I could. But now that I think about it, that's how it's always been for me. When I started presenting in a more feminine way I had doubts whether that was right for me until I considered going back to my old presentation and I realized I wouldn't even be able to. Likewise my horror at the thought of asking people to call me by my old name again is, more than anything else, what convinces me that I need to go by Ashley. And the thought of going back to a male hormonal mix makes me feel the same way.
Huh. Maybe that is my "magical moment of clarity." And it happened just now writing this. I guess that's why I'm a blogger. :)
Well anyways, time to start thinking about the next step: banking my sperm before they all shrivel up and die. I'm not 100% certain I'll want biological kids some day, but I am 100% certain I'll at least want the option. Better get on that posthaste!
Thursday, 19 November 2015
I'm Facebook official!
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Alright, so I was I planning on waiting till I was a little further along in my transition to change my name on Facebook, but it's friggin bugging me seeing my old name on here all the time, so Ashley it is. For those that don't know, I've been using that name within the trans community for about two and half years now, and in my day-to-day life for just over four months. So yeah... I'd really appreciate it if you could try to refer to me by that name instead of Tyler. Thanks! :)Heh, pretty terrible. The thing is, I wasn't even thinking of it as a coming out. I had long since largely stopped caring about the distinction between out and not on Facebook. And by this point I felt like everyone to whom I actually "owed" a proper coming out had already gotten one. (And perhaps I was mildly resentful of the fact that I'd felt like I owed that to anyone in the first place.) So I saw this less as letting people know that I'm trans and more as just explaining why my profile suddenly had a different name. And, you know, so that the next time I came up on someone's feed they wouldn't be like: who the heck is Ashley??
Oh yeah, and PS: I'm trans, for anyone who hasn't figured that out yet.: P
Of course I got lots of "likes" and supportive comments. My paternal grandmother left a comment saying "whether you are Tyler or Ashley, trans or otherwise you are our grandchild and we love you." Awww. ♥
I also got a bunch of questions in my inbox. Most of them were good or at least reasonable. For example, one of my aunts asked me if I had any advice on how she should explain it to her children, or if there was anything specifically that I wanted her to say or to not say, which is like the best freaking question ever seriously I wish everybody asked questions like that. I also got one kind of weird question from someone who was wondering if I was still a Christian and if so, how I reconciled my "transgender existence" (his actual words) with the bible. (If you're new to this blog, I have a dark mysterious past as a conservative Christian, but left the faith several years ago and now identify as a non-theist or atheist.) So I told him that I wasn't a believer anymore, but also pointed out that the bible doesn't really talk much about trans stuff anyways. He also asked what it was like growing up trans in the church and I gave kind of long-winded reply about how it actually totally sucked and how much better it could have been if I'd been raised in a church that was queer\trans-affirming.
Of course I'd been intending to eventually change my name for some time, but what finally pushed me over the edge and got me to do it was, of all things, wanting to add a new friend who's only ever known me as Ashley. Remember my previous post when I said I might have a date with a girl I met on the internets? Well, she and I still haven't gotten a chance to hang out yet for various reasons— she had family visiting, I was busy, she was sick— but we've been texting for a while now. I went and found her on Facebook, but felt super weird about sending a friend request from my old name. Hence my new-found motivation. (Afterwards she was like "aww you could've just added me before, I wouldn't have cared...")
Anyways, we're planning on getting together this weekend, so hopefully that works out. Oh, and I should mention that, of all the bizarre things, we discovered that we have the same birthday— how weird is that?! So now we're already planning on having a joint birthday party, even though it's not till February. :D
It seems I'm going about transition in totally the "wrong" order, at least according to the traditional trans narrative. I'm now fully out (except at work) and I haven't even started HRT yet. Sometimes I can't help but feel that people are going to expect me to start looking "more female" soon, when in reality that's probably still a fair ways off. But whatever. Obviously there's no right or wrong way to be trans— doing it this way works for me, and that's good enough. :)
Tuesday, 13 October 2015
I'm still here (and I'm on spiro now!)
It's been a while since I updated this blog, but I'm still here and not dead. And also I'm taking androgen-blockers.
In the last week of August I finally got around to seeing a doctor about the fact that I'm trans. Ironically what actually compelled me to go to the clinic was a bad skin rash, but I figured since I'd be there anyways I should bring up my trans-ness. (This is in keeping with my uncanny ability to put off doing important things, like seeing a doctor, until I absolutely have to do them).
I went to a walk-in clinic because I don't have a regular practitioner. After checking my ID and healthcare card, the receptionist asked what the issue is.
"Uh, well, actually it's two things," I said. "The first is a skin rash..."
She made a note of that.
"And the second is that, uh, I'm transsexual and—"
She stopped me right there. "I'll just put down 'personal' for that, okay?"
"Uh... okay."
Wow lady, way to make me feel weird.
Thankfully the doctor himself was a lot more professional about it. He asked me a few questions, but they were all ones that made sense— how long have you felt this way? have you been experiencing depression?— that sort of thing. He gave me a prescription for the androgen-blocker spironolactone, which I've been on since then, and a referral to a psychiatrist I'm supposed to see before I start HRT.
He said the waiting list for the psych would likely be close to year (ugh) and that the current psychiatrist was retiring soon and someone else would be taking over his work, so I should be proactive about contacting their office. I figured I'd probably call them in the next couple of days.
And then the depression hit. Apparently one of the side-effects of spiro is that it can exacerbate depressive symptoms. Beginning a couple days after I took the first pill and lasting for a couple weeks I had possibly the worst depression I've ever experienced. Needless to say I did not call the psych's office during that time. That's also largely why I stopped blogging.
But I guess after a couple weeks my body just got used to the drug or something, because I gradually returned to my normal baseline emotional state, which is a much more mild and intermittent sort of depression that I can usually manage.
Now I just need to phone the psych's office and see if I can still get put on the waiting list even though my referral is for a guy who doesn't work there anymore. I'm not really sure how all that works.
Other than that there hasn't been much noteworthy stuff in my life in the last couple months, but things are, for the most part, going well. I got moved to the afternoon shift at work, and while it sucks not having my evenings free I've found I enjoy the actual work a lot more: the shop's almost empty so I don't have a bunch of bosses looking over my shoulder telling me what to do, I mostly get to just do my own thing. Last Sunday I had a really nice Thanksgiving dinner with my parents and brother and sister-in-law: my contribution was the apple pie, which actually turned out quite well (and only my second time making a pie from scratch too). Today I cleaned and tidied my house and bought some cut flowers for the vase on the table and now it feels all nice and homey for a change. And at some point in the near future I probably have a date with this girl I met online (we said we'd go out for coffee or something, but haven't set a place or time yet) so that's kind of exciting.
Altogether I feel like I kind of have a handle on this whole "life" thing. I suppose I should enjoy that while it lasts. :)
In the last week of August I finally got around to seeing a doctor about the fact that I'm trans. Ironically what actually compelled me to go to the clinic was a bad skin rash, but I figured since I'd be there anyways I should bring up my trans-ness. (This is in keeping with my uncanny ability to put off doing important things, like seeing a doctor, until I absolutely have to do them).
I went to a walk-in clinic because I don't have a regular practitioner. After checking my ID and healthcare card, the receptionist asked what the issue is.
"Uh, well, actually it's two things," I said. "The first is a skin rash..."
She made a note of that.
"And the second is that, uh, I'm transsexual and—"
She stopped me right there. "I'll just put down 'personal' for that, okay?"
"Uh... okay."
Wow lady, way to make me feel weird.
Thankfully the doctor himself was a lot more professional about it. He asked me a few questions, but they were all ones that made sense— how long have you felt this way? have you been experiencing depression?— that sort of thing. He gave me a prescription for the androgen-blocker spironolactone, which I've been on since then, and a referral to a psychiatrist I'm supposed to see before I start HRT.
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| Spironolactone |
And then the depression hit. Apparently one of the side-effects of spiro is that it can exacerbate depressive symptoms. Beginning a couple days after I took the first pill and lasting for a couple weeks I had possibly the worst depression I've ever experienced. Needless to say I did not call the psych's office during that time. That's also largely why I stopped blogging.
But I guess after a couple weeks my body just got used to the drug or something, because I gradually returned to my normal baseline emotional state, which is a much more mild and intermittent sort of depression that I can usually manage.
Now I just need to phone the psych's office and see if I can still get put on the waiting list even though my referral is for a guy who doesn't work there anymore. I'm not really sure how all that works.
Other than that there hasn't been much noteworthy stuff in my life in the last couple months, but things are, for the most part, going well. I got moved to the afternoon shift at work, and while it sucks not having my evenings free I've found I enjoy the actual work a lot more: the shop's almost empty so I don't have a bunch of bosses looking over my shoulder telling me what to do, I mostly get to just do my own thing. Last Sunday I had a really nice Thanksgiving dinner with my parents and brother and sister-in-law: my contribution was the apple pie, which actually turned out quite well (and only my second time making a pie from scratch too). Today I cleaned and tidied my house and bought some cut flowers for the vase on the table and now it feels all nice and homey for a change. And at some point in the near future I probably have a date with this girl I met online (we said we'd go out for coffee or something, but haven't set a place or time yet) so that's kind of exciting.
Altogether I feel like I kind of have a handle on this whole "life" thing. I suppose I should enjoy that while it lasts. :)
Saturday, 4 April 2015
Hair removal and happy thoughts
This morning I had my first ever session of electrolysis. And wow, is it ever great to finally feel like my transition is moving forward! Since getting home from it I've just been feeling really positive and optimitic about life in general. :)
The actual procedure wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. From what I'd read on the interwebs I was expecting a fair amount of pain. But of all the hairs we got done today, only two of them even hurt a little: the rest were nothing worse than an uncomfortable pinching feeling. So either I've got an unusually high pain tolerance or an unusually good electrologist, but either way I was pleasantly surprised.
Granted, she only worked on my cheek today. I suspect that the chin and especially the upper lip will be worse. It also probably helps that I'm not on HRT, as apparently estrogens tend to make your skin more sensitive.
We scheduled my next appointment for one hour next Saturday. I don't really like the idea of doing electro every single week though. In the future I think I'll see about doing longer sessions less often, like maybe two hours once a fortnight.
They say that galvanic electrolysis permanently removes 99% of treated hairs on the the first treatment. That means that, statistically speaking, all 15 hairs we got to today are probably gone for good. It's not much, but that's the first permanent alteration I've made to my body for the sake of aligning it more closely with my gender identity. And for that I say: yay yay yay!!! :D
The actual procedure wasn't nearly as bad as I thought it would be. From what I'd read on the interwebs I was expecting a fair amount of pain. But of all the hairs we got done today, only two of them even hurt a little: the rest were nothing worse than an uncomfortable pinching feeling. So either I've got an unusually high pain tolerance or an unusually good electrologist, but either way I was pleasantly surprised.
Granted, she only worked on my cheek today. I suspect that the chin and especially the upper lip will be worse. It also probably helps that I'm not on HRT, as apparently estrogens tend to make your skin more sensitive.
 |
| I took this picture as soon as I got home. By then most of the redness had disappeared, but you can still see a little discolouration in the middle of my cheek. |
They say that galvanic electrolysis permanently removes 99% of treated hairs on the the first treatment. That means that, statistically speaking, all 15 hairs we got to today are probably gone for good. It's not much, but that's the first permanent alteration I've made to my body for the sake of aligning it more closely with my gender identity. And for that I say: yay yay yay!!! :D
Monday, 15 December 2014
A baby step
So, in my previous post I wrote about my attempt to visit an electrolysis clinic and set up an appointment. In the end I decided to do something easier than either calling or talking to them in person: I just sent an email. It was a baby step, but it was a step in the right direction.
And the electrologist emailed me back with a whole ton of information about prices and techniques. So I guess now I'm going to call them some time this week and set up a consultation.
I am slowly moving forward. :)
And the electrologist emailed me back with a whole ton of information about prices and techniques. So I guess now I'm going to call them some time this week and set up a consultation.
I am slowly moving forward. :)
Friday, 5 December 2014
Dancing, and other things
Hmmm, it seems I took a little unplanned break from blogging there for about a month. In some ways I was taking a break from life too, I guess. But now I'm getting back into things.
Yesterday, for the first time in a very long time, I took an actual real step toward transition. Even though it kind of ended up accomplishing nothing. But still, it felt better to at least try to do something.
I figured out a while ago that I want to get electrolysis for my facial hair. I also decided on which clinic I wanted to go to. But I spent a long time putting off making an appointment. Yesterday I finally metaphorically grew a pair (of ovaries???) and made up my mind to do it.
Calling to make an appointment was pretty much out of the question, however, thanks to my phone anxiety. So I got in the car intending to drive over there and talk to them in person. I doubled checked Google maps before I left: yup, it's in a mall in a part of town I'd never been to before.
But when I got there I couldn't find the place. I walked the whole length of the mall, and all around the outside, too. And it just wasn't there. Confused and a little disappointed, I drove home. Looking again at their website when I got back, I discovered they're on the same property as the mall, but in a different building. Oh.
So I guess I'll be heading back there tomorrow.
In other news, I've been learning some valuable lessons about not trying to put my entire life on hold until I get this gender thing sorted out. The thing is, at times I've felt like it's pointless to spend time with people or make friends while I'm still mostly living as a guy. But that's really not a great way to go about doing things— I just ended up being gender dysphoric and lonely.
So, in the past couple weeks I've actually been, like, going out and having fun with other humans. The past two weekends me and some friends went out the bar and danced. That was a brand new experience for me. I've always loved dancing, like at weddings and, uh... in my room by myself like a dork, but for some reason I always just assumed I wouldn't enjoy the bar scene. Turns out I shouldn't make assumptions.
And yes, I would have enjoyed the dancing more had I been presenting female, and even more so if I actually had a female-looking body. But the thing is, it was fun anyways. And when you're really getting into a song you start to forget yourself, and all that gendery stuff matters a little less.
Currently I'm out to some, but not all, of my friend group. I am now even more motivated to tell the rest of them so that we can go out dancing with me in girl mode. :D
Yesterday, for the first time in a very long time, I took an actual real step toward transition. Even though it kind of ended up accomplishing nothing. But still, it felt better to at least try to do something.
I figured out a while ago that I want to get electrolysis for my facial hair. I also decided on which clinic I wanted to go to. But I spent a long time putting off making an appointment. Yesterday I finally metaphorically grew a pair (of ovaries???) and made up my mind to do it.
Calling to make an appointment was pretty much out of the question, however, thanks to my phone anxiety. So I got in the car intending to drive over there and talk to them in person. I doubled checked Google maps before I left: yup, it's in a mall in a part of town I'd never been to before.
But when I got there I couldn't find the place. I walked the whole length of the mall, and all around the outside, too. And it just wasn't there. Confused and a little disappointed, I drove home. Looking again at their website when I got back, I discovered they're on the same property as the mall, but in a different building. Oh.
So I guess I'll be heading back there tomorrow.
In other news, I've been learning some valuable lessons about not trying to put my entire life on hold until I get this gender thing sorted out. The thing is, at times I've felt like it's pointless to spend time with people or make friends while I'm still mostly living as a guy. But that's really not a great way to go about doing things— I just ended up being gender dysphoric and lonely.
So, in the past couple weeks I've actually been, like, going out and having fun with other humans. The past two weekends me and some friends went out the bar and danced. That was a brand new experience for me. I've always loved dancing, like at weddings and, uh... in my room by myself like a dork, but for some reason I always just assumed I wouldn't enjoy the bar scene. Turns out I shouldn't make assumptions.
And yes, I would have enjoyed the dancing more had I been presenting female, and even more so if I actually had a female-looking body. But the thing is, it was fun anyways. And when you're really getting into a song you start to forget yourself, and all that gendery stuff matters a little less.
Currently I'm out to some, but not all, of my friend group. I am now even more motivated to tell the rest of them so that we can go out dancing with me in girl mode. :D
Wednesday, 22 October 2014
Stupid tunnel
This whole is thing is stupid.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know it's there. I know it's real. But I've stopped moving towards it. I'm no longer putting one foot in front of the other. And why? Because... it's too dark, I guess? I mean, come on, you could stub your damn toes walking around in the dark!
So instead I'll just sit down here and bash my head against the tunnel wall for a while.
Okay wait, what does this metaphor even mean?
What it means is, because I haven't been taking any actual steps toward transition or even making any effort to express my gender, I feel depressed. And because I feel depressed, I lack the motivation to take those steps or make that effort.
And I am just barely restraining myself from actually bashing my head against a wall— that part's nearly not a metaphor.
Stupid tunnel.
I can see the light at the end of the tunnel. I know it's there. I know it's real. But I've stopped moving towards it. I'm no longer putting one foot in front of the other. And why? Because... it's too dark, I guess? I mean, come on, you could stub your damn toes walking around in the dark!
So instead I'll just sit down here and bash my head against the tunnel wall for a while.
 |
| Of all the lights at the ends of tunnels that Google images returns, I like this one. Image from here. |
Okay wait, what does this metaphor even mean?
What it means is, because I haven't been taking any actual steps toward transition or even making any effort to express my gender, I feel depressed. And because I feel depressed, I lack the motivation to take those steps or make that effort.
And I am just barely restraining myself from actually bashing my head against a wall— that part's nearly not a metaphor.
Stupid tunnel.
Monday, 5 May 2014
Struggle, decision and hope
Today it's really hard. And it's not just the gender issues, it's a whole bunch of things. I've always suffered from depressive episodes and I seem to be in the middle of one right now. I've also been having headaches and trouble sleeping for the past two weeks. And now that school's done I need a summer job, but I haven't found one yet and I'm running out of money.
And as much as I'd like to think that all these other problems would magically go away if I were living as a female, I know that's not the case. So I can't even really blame gender.
I did get manage out in girl mode once last week. In fact, I'm kind of proud of myself: it was my first time going out with bare shoulders and bare legs. I felt a lot more vulnerable not having all the layers to bundle up in like I did during the winter. But it was a beautiful day, and it felt so good to take in the sunshine as me. I'm not under any illusions of having passed, but I did get called ma'am by a cashier. That was nice of him. :)
On Saturday I was at a restaurant with a couple of friends. I think our server might have been trans. She was certainly tall enough for it, not to mention the broad shoulders, huge hands and small bust. She was very pretty.
Envy isn't the right word for it, but there's a certain feeling I get when I see other trans women having the courage to be themselves. And every time I do it's one more nagging voice saying: Ashley, you need to do something about this gender problem. And while that tends to trigger the dysphoria, it's also kind of inspiring. (The same thing happened when my classmate at school started presenting female.)
And that brings me to the question: what am I going to do about it?
While I still haven't totally figured that out, I have made one decision: I need to get to a point where I can function normally before I go back to school. I failed a lot of classes these past two semesters, and most of the problem was my inability to focus on anything when the dysphoria struck. It doesn't make sense to keep throwing money away on classes when I'm not dealing with the issue. So I'm going to see a doctor sometime soon-ish and maybe start counselling. I'm going to return to my local support group. And I'm going to start electrolysis.
That last one just makes a lot of sense. I've realized that even if I decide not to transition (which seems unlikely), I'm still never going to actually want a beard. Even if I am just a feminine male (which I doubt), I still have a gender identity that's incongruous with facial hair. So transition or not, electro is a good idea.
What this means is that I won't be going back to school in the fall, since I can't afford both that and hair removal without going deeply into debt. I might go back to school in January, or I might just take a whole year off from academics. We'll see how it goes.
I'm also starting to reconcile myself to the fact that HRT may be in my future. There are a number of reasons why I don't want this. The biggest one by far is my desire for biological fatherhood— I want babies!!— but also lots of little fears about the phyisical and emotional changes that would take place. But at the end of the day if you need HRT you need it: it's not like gender dysphoria gives a shit about your hopes and fears.
So yeah: I'm struggling today. I'm pretty darn depressed. But I can see the steps I need to take (find a job, see a doctor, start electro...) and for now that's giving me something to work towards. So, in a way, I guess I'm sort of hopeful too.
They say it gets better. I hope they're right.
And as much as I'd like to think that all these other problems would magically go away if I were living as a female, I know that's not the case. So I can't even really blame gender.
 | |
| Aaahh bare shoulders aaaaaahhh!!! (Actually I look pretty good here, I think) |
On Saturday I was at a restaurant with a couple of friends. I think our server might have been trans. She was certainly tall enough for it, not to mention the broad shoulders, huge hands and small bust. She was very pretty.
Envy isn't the right word for it, but there's a certain feeling I get when I see other trans women having the courage to be themselves. And every time I do it's one more nagging voice saying: Ashley, you need to do something about this gender problem. And while that tends to trigger the dysphoria, it's also kind of inspiring. (The same thing happened when my classmate at school started presenting female.)
And that brings me to the question: what am I going to do about it?
While I still haven't totally figured that out, I have made one decision: I need to get to a point where I can function normally before I go back to school. I failed a lot of classes these past two semesters, and most of the problem was my inability to focus on anything when the dysphoria struck. It doesn't make sense to keep throwing money away on classes when I'm not dealing with the issue. So I'm going to see a doctor sometime soon-ish and maybe start counselling. I'm going to return to my local support group. And I'm going to start electrolysis.
That last one just makes a lot of sense. I've realized that even if I decide not to transition (which seems unlikely), I'm still never going to actually want a beard. Even if I am just a feminine male (which I doubt), I still have a gender identity that's incongruous with facial hair. So transition or not, electro is a good idea.
What this means is that I won't be going back to school in the fall, since I can't afford both that and hair removal without going deeply into debt. I might go back to school in January, or I might just take a whole year off from academics. We'll see how it goes.
I'm also starting to reconcile myself to the fact that HRT may be in my future. There are a number of reasons why I don't want this. The biggest one by far is my desire for biological fatherhood— I want babies!!— but also lots of little fears about the phyisical and emotional changes that would take place. But at the end of the day if you need HRT you need it: it's not like gender dysphoria gives a shit about your hopes and fears.
So yeah: I'm struggling today. I'm pretty darn depressed. But I can see the steps I need to take (find a job, see a doctor, start electro...) and for now that's giving me something to work towards. So, in a way, I guess I'm sort of hopeful too.
They say it gets better. I hope they're right.
 |
| Out in the sun last week. See, I was happy then at least! :) |
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