29 - Patience

Transitioning asks a lot of yourself and the people around you. It is not too much, but there are a lot of factors involved. Factors you have varying levels of control over. There is the physical change to your body; the mental change in how you perceive yourself; and the social change in how others perceive you.

The whole process is a bit like a game of chess with moves and counter moves. My first move was a mental one connecting with a trans identity. Next move I went hard on the social transition. I wanted every conversation to count for something. If I didn't walk away feeling a stronger sense of understanding and visibility, then I left hurt and frustrated. Great expectations make for great disappointments.

Over time I've come to realise there are some pieces in this game that have power, and others are just pawns. . You can give people the information, you can educate and correct them, but you’re often working against decades of ingrained messaging. Sometimes it unweaves itself, sometimes it stays bound tight and no amount of patience will see those people change. You learn to sacrifice that piece and move on.

While I got better at being more patient with the social transition, I failed to reserve much patience for myself. A while back I decided to start on hormone replacement therapy. I began with a low dose that would allow me to adjust to the changes slowly. I wanted to see what felt good, and what felt scary. I wasn’t sure if I would be comfortable with all the changes, and everybody reacts to hormone therapy differently. What if I end up going bald?! I want a deeper voice, but I don’t really want butt hair! If only you could pick and choose. 

After twelve months of essentially edging puberty with a squeaky voice and white fluffy hair sprouting up across my body I got impatient. I wanted something definitive. Other trans friends around me were seeing changes after a few months and I was jealous. Feeling green with envy was a green enough light for me to progress to a higher dose of testosterone and lean in.  Everything felt right.

Feeling so comfortable with myself allowed me to feel more comfortable to share that with others. I met someone. She was beautiful and bubbly and ready for anything. She identified as queer and had been with women and men which helped me feel more seen. If she wasn’t just into women, then she didn’t just see me as a woman in disguise. 

We had chemistry from the moment we met. I had been finding it hard to meet people I felt physically attracted to, but as soon as I clocked her I was invested. Bright red lips, cat eye glasses and a leather jacket. She was a vision. Sassy, sexy and playful. It was fun from the get go. 

We were enjoying getting to know each other. I liked having someone who would notice the little changes in my body and point them out excitedly. I hadn’t had that before. People seemed to be so careful not to make a deal about anything. I was surprised. I felt like a maple tree slowly changing colours but no one ever stopped to admire what an incredible transformation was taking place. 

She celebrated all the little physical wins with me; the surging libido, the lowering voice, the hairs trailing up my belly. We didn’t take much time to understand and take note of the changes you couldn’t see. But there were definitely things happening inside my head. 

I tried to act normal even though I could feel my emotions changing. It can be hard to pinpoint how one thing is impacting your life when there are so many things in the mix. I was in a relationship which I had not been in for a very long time, and particularly since covid I was not used to sharing my space. I hadn’t realised how much of a routine I’d mapped out for myself. Work was getting harder with more responsibilities and needing to rely on more people who seemed to care less than me.  My body was getting older and everything was hurting more and taking longer to do. 

Am I just getting old? Is everyone just getting stupider? Am I too controlling? Is it the outside world or is it the inside world that is changing? Things really came to a head one day during an argument when my partner said to me

It hit me then that maybe there was something more fueling these underlying questions and cheering on the agitation. Is this testosterone? What have I done? I’ve turned myself into some kind of monster!  The thought that I might have injected a cranky old man into my body scared me. I was so ashamed. 

Thankfully it didn’t take long to recognise it wasn’t so much that i was acting like an old man, rather I was more like a teenager. I was in that horrible part of puberty where you don’t know why you suddenly find everything annoying, but you do. And it is. And you just want to put a sign on your bedroom door saying “Keep Out” and masterbate all day. 

The good thing about going through puberty the second time is you have a few more coping strategies up your sleeve. I’ve dealt with PMS for the past 20 years, I know raging hormones.  As soon as you (and the people around you) realise you are about to bleed and it is your hormones making you irritable you can ration with your emotions. It doesn’t last forever but it does require some self-awareness, and some patience. The dog days will be over soon.