(Would have been) 3 years on testosterone

Three years ago today, I took a huge leap, not at all sure this was what I wanted to be doing, but fully positive I needed to try just to find out.  Even though I’m not currently on T, this date is still a really big deal for me.

When I started, I felt, almost immediately. that this was the right decision, and that I could have benefited from testosterone way sooner, if I hadn’t been so unsure I could just take a low-dose to see what it felt like.  Those first few weeks, I wrote a lot in my journal, things to the effect of:  “feel hungrier, more energized, had to get up at 5AM because I was doing overtime [Saturday morning].  Buzzed through the 8-hour area, as if I didn’t lose any sleep and am in fact on speed.  Floated through the rest of the day in a cozy, mellow cocoon.”

About 4 months later, I stopped writing just privately, and decided to start this blog!
First post:  low-dose testosterone for the rest of my life

At the time, I thought about testosterone and it’s effects all the time.  I was hyper-aware of any physical changes (mostly not wanting anything to change) and also my internal states.  It’s impossible to inhabit that way of being, long-term, of course, and other life events happened, causing roller-coaster-like mental states.  And I started to wonder what testosterone was doing for me anymore.

I had been treating testosterone like a psychotropic drug, in my mind.  And, in a way, it kind of is (a naturally occurring one).  I wasn’t on any medications, and I kind of saw it as the solution to my mental health issues.  Until it wasn’t.  (But it did feel like it was for quite a while.)

When I did go back on medications (a little over a year ago), the purpose of taking testosterone started to feel like it was getting diluted.  And the reason to stay on it became, “I need to keep as much as I can the same, right now, so that I can stabilize” rather than, “Testosterone is stabilizing me.”

Right around the end of December, I finally switched to a medication that seemed to be working (maybe for the first time ever, for me).  And right around that same time, I decided to stop taking testosterone.  Was the timing coincidental?  No.  It felt like I found a substitute, actually.  And I’m still feeling really really good.

I’m still undecided about how much more masculine I would like to look and sound, and if I would want to use testosterone to get me there.  It’d be awesome if I could pick and choose… (probably most trans-people wish this).  I would pick a moderately lower voice, a little more muscle mass, and a higher sex-drive.  I would toss the facial hair and balding, the acne, the feeling too hot, and the other body hair.

This will probably be my last update in this series “___ years on testosterone without noticeable masculinizing changes,” since I’m not currently on testosterone.  It doesn’t make sense!  Most definitely I’ll start it right back up if I decide to go back on.  And I imagine, where I am right now, that my reasons will be different.  Less of, “what would testosterone feel like?,” and more of “how much do I want my body to change?”

From my experience, I kind of feel like, if you’re on the fence about hormones, and you’re not sure about how you feel, gender-wise, it’s worth a try (if you can get access).  It might take you to a new place on your journey.  It might jump-start something inside you.  It did for me.  Or, on the other hand, it could help you rule something out.  I know someone who was unsure about starting estrogen, but they kept obsessing over it.  Once they went through the steps, and had the estrogen on hand, they suddenly strongly felt they did not want to continue to pursue that path (after taking only one day’s worth of the hormone.)  So, either way, you may learn something about yourself…

Here are some past posts in this series, for reference:
Five months on T
One year on T
Two years on T
Two point seven-five years on T (Two weeks off)