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. :)

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.

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.

I'm Facebook official!

My existence is now 100% certified official on Facebook. Last week I finally changed my name and pronouns on there. And gosh does it ever feel good to be able to check Facebook and not have to see my old name all over everything. Yeah!

It was sort of on a whim, to be honest. I hadn't really planned ahead of time when I was going to take that step, and wrote probably the one of the worst "coming out" status ever. It went like so:

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! :)

Oh yeah, and PS: I'm trans, for anyone who hasn't figured that out yet.: P

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??

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. :)

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.

Spironolactone

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. :)

A quick feminist rage post

Apologies in advance. I probably shouldn't be rage-posting on this blog, but... I'm going to anyways.

So, there's this online crossdressing forum that I'm registered on. I don't visit there very often, but every now and then I'll pop in and see what's going on, read a few threads, leave some comments, that sort of thing.

Today a lady had posted saying she was going on her first date with a man, and her first date as a woman, and was asking for advice. (She added that she'd never been into men before but had a crush on this one and was through with trying to categorize her sexuality: a good attitude to have, I think). As you can imagine there was lots of excitement, thoughts on what to wear, what style of wig to go with, tips on staying safe... all the typical stuff you'd expect from a gaggle of crossdressers.

Several people, however, said things like "let him do most of the talking," and "make sure he pays the bill." Someone actually said "be passive; don't talk, listen."

Cue feminist rage moment.

Seriously? Be passive? Don't talk? What kind of 1950s bullcrap sexism is that? You would think crossdressers, whose very existence challenges binary gender norms, would be the last people in the world to appeal to and reinforce the traditional male\female roles. Gender binarism is precisely the reason why so many of us are forced into the closet, why so many of us can't be ourselves around our friends and families, and why so many of us can't dress the way we want to on a day-to-day basis. It's also part of the reason why trans people in general are stigmatized, mocked, and occasionally killed. And yet here we are, propping up that system ourselves. Way to go, gals.

I was a tad nettled.

"Don't talk, sweetheart. Every man loves a woman with no personality!"

Of course, if she wants to be passive and listen, that's fine. If she wants to clean his house and do his laundry afterward, that's fine too, I don't care. What bothered me is that people were recommending passivity solely because she's going to be a woman on a date with a man.

Anyways, I didn't comment there because I'm not a regular and didn't want to take the thread off topic. But typing this out here has felt good.

That is all :)