Coming out as “getting married”

Posted: October 13, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

ImageHey, my partner and I have been planning on getting married!  We finally reserved a venue, this here house, in one of the county parks.  It’s starting to feel like a real deal now, that we’re going to be doing this thing…  We’ve been “engaged”* for a while now, and at least from my end, I’d been sort of putting off planning / making things more concrete.  There’s probably a lot of reasons why that is, and I’ve been de-tangling all of that little by little.  I don’t think I’ll be going into all those thoughts here and now (hint: a lot of the thoughts surround the idea that for so long, we couldn’t legally get married anyway, and more recently we can yet so many others can’t, and that’s confusing to say the least), but one thought really stands out as it relates to my current low-dose testosterone adventure:  When I started testosterone last March, I really had no idea where I was going to end up!  I mean, I thought I would end up very close to where I’ve been at already, but I couldn’t know ’til I tried it.  And I still can’t know for sure, but I feel a little more secure than I did six months ago.

In other words, I feel like the possibility to legally transition is floating around nearby me, always.  But the first few months of being on testosterone (trying something radically new) was a pretty sure bet for a time period where I might start feeling differently than before.

In some more other words, if I were going to want to legally change my name and gender markers, the early months of being on T was a time period of higher likelihood for feelings like that to emerge, potentially.  (Not to mention maybe realizing I wanted to increase my dosage and transition in all ways – physically / legally / socially / etc.)  But I didn’t really, feel that way.  Which isn’t to say I won’t at any other point in time, of course!  It just seemed like a strange time to start planning a wedding, if I was more unsure than normal what name and gender might go on our marriage certificate and other legal documents we pursue together.

Some of that uncertainty started to dissipate over time.  I’m feeling really happy with where I’m at.  Which is maybe one or two steps away from where I’ve been at before, in terms of my gender identity.  I’m not planning on taking a hundred steps closer to being seen as “male.”  I mean, my partner sees me as male, as well as all the other shades of gender I want to be seen as, and that’s really what feels most important.  I’ve been starting to feel more ready to take some steps with her toward a different relationship identity.

I don’t think I ever directly articulated this to my partner!  Guess it’s time for some more conversations!  (One of the cool side effects of having a blog, or, you know, writing in general.)

*word is in quotations because it doesn’t feel like this “stage of our relationship” has much to do with what might traditionally be assumed, by being “engaged.”  Nor will our “wedding” or subsequent “marriage” resemble much of what the mainstream might assume, by the use of those words…  for example, there’s no engagement ring, no plans to combine or share finances, I could go on, but I don’t really want to!  Why can’t there just be more word choices?!!

Passing as a teenager yet again

Posted: October 2, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Passing | Tags: , , , , , , | 4 Comments

The other day, I was walking home from the library.  I had my red backpack on, full of new media.  My pants were probably partially saggy; I was wearing skate shoes, as usual.  As I mentioned last week, I’ve been in a pretty low mood, so I’m sure I was slouching quite a bit, probably staring at the ground as I went.  I was crossing the street to get to my side street before I realized some teenaged girls on a porch were yelling to me.

“Hey!  Yeah, you.”
“Me?”
“Yeah!  What’s your name?”
“[I said my name.]”
“JC?”
“No.  [Said my name again.]”
“JT?”
“Yeah.  [Still not my name, but realized it didn’t really matter.]”
“Nice to meet you!”

I kind of did a little wave and kept walking, worrying I was going to start running into them a lot since this was pretty close to my house.  This isn’t a direct account of an instance where I passed as male, but I’m pretttty sure teen girls wouldn’t have been so adamantly yelling if they saw me as, basically, a female-bodied person in their early thirties.  So I’m going to count it!

From whimsical musings to invasive ruminations on transitioning

Posted: September 17, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: , , , , , , , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

For over a decade, I had been going back and forth hundreds (thousands?) of times in my head about whether transitioning was right for me or not.  Or if not every aspect of it, what about this but not that?  Will I ever move forward with some aspect maybe?  At some point not that long ago, I seemed to come to the conclusion that no, I wasn’t going to move forward because if I were, I would have done something about it by now.  And I haven’t, so I’m not.  I must be lacking some internal drive, so it must not be something that I need to do.  I settled on identifying as genderqueer and trans* but not planning on medically transitioning in any way.  And I seemed satisfied with that.  (?)  But not quite, or, no, not at all actually.  Because it was still on my mind.  Sometimes just as whimsical musings in the back of my brain.  Other times as pervasive/invasive body-dysphoric consistent ruminations.

I guess I always thought that if I did move forward with something, it would be top surgery, and not HRT.  Because I never want to consistently pass as male.  I want to continue looking androgynous forever.  Top surgery could help with that (although I’m fortunate in that I can get away without surgery, and without binding, in hiding what I have).  Taking testosterone would be going further than I want to go.  So I thought.

I thought it had to be all or nothing.  I thought I had to have a case ready about how I need to transition, in order to access testosterone.  And I don’t need to transiton, and I really don’t like to lie.  I thought I would need a letter from a therapist, and to jump through all these hoops, to access testosterone.  And I wasn’t even sure I wanted it!  Eventually I reached a point where I just knew that I needed to try it, at some point, just so that I could know.  So that at the very least, I could think about it differently or think about it less often, as it relates to a decision about something I should or should not do.

I have this awesome therapist.  She doesn’t know much about trans* identities.  I’m fairly certain she had not previously had a trans* client before, although I could be wrong.  I’d been talking to her about this stuff, and she’d been following along, more or less, in stride.  When I would say I need to try this out, she would say, “then why not!”  I asked her if she’d write me a letter if need be, and she said she wouldn’t be comfortable doing that; she doesn’t have enough knowledge about it.  Still operating under the assumption that I would need a letter, I started also seeing another therapist, basically for the purpose of getting a letter.

This second therapist gave me the name of a doctor during our first session.  Turns out that, apparently, I didn’t need a letter!  Turns out I didn’t need to convince anyone at any point that I wanted to transition medically.  I never once had to lie to get my hands on testosterone.  And once I did get my hands on it, I was given the freedom to experiment with the dosing, basically use as much or as little as I wanted.  Turns out I want to use as little as possible.  Turns out I might be able to stay on it for the rest of my life without looking any more masculine than I currently do (this has yet to be proven, but it’s been 6 months now, and so far, so good).  And the internal effects, with this super low dose, are significant and pretty much better than I could have even hoped for.

Basically, for all those years of wondering and second-guessing and processing and feeling anxious and obsessing and daydreaming and doubting myself and ultimately sort of concluding by default that I wouldn’t take any steps forward, actually doing something about it has been one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

And in retrospect, it isn’t like there’s no turning back, to some extent.  Testosterone is a slow-moving substance in terms of long-term changes… I’m really enjoying the internal forward momentum though.

A grandpa is re-roofing our house

Posted: September 12, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Passing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

ImageWe’re getting a new roof on the house this week.  So loud!  They’re starting every morning at 7:30, and I’ve just gotten home from work around midnight the night before and am trying to get enough sleep in.

Yesterday, the roofers had a big pile of debris in the driveway, and I had to get through – I was leaving for work.  About 4 of them were there, shovelling stuff, and the foreman yelled out, “Clear a path!”  They started moving stuff out of my way, and as I walked past a garbage bin, one of the guys dumped a shovelful into it (which I had no problem with).  The foreman yelled, “Whoa, whoa, whoa!  Grandpa!”  And I got really confused.  Who is Grandpa?  Is he calling me Grandpa?  It wouldn’t be the first time – it’s kind of a thing that I’m called Grandpa, or “Baby Grandpa.”  But how would this guy know that?!!

The one they were actually calling Grandpa seemed flustered too.  Apparently he got yelled at for dumping stuff too close to where I was walking.  In his defense, he said, “I thought he was with the crew.”

“Grandpa” was later confirmed when I talked to the owner of the company on the phone, and he said if I have a question, I can ask Paul, the foreman, or Steve, “the one they call Grandpa.”

I like being mistaken for someone on the crew!!!  (better than thinking I was mistaken for “grandpa.”)

Later that day at work, I found an advertisement for a book in one of the teacher’s trash.  It was this book, “How to Babysit a Grandpa,” and it claims the way to babysit a grandpa is to eat olives served on fingertips; look for lizards, cool rocks, and dandelion puffs; and somersault across the room.  Not sure about your grandpa, but mine loves olives and he helped me out with a roofing repair about a year ago.

effeminate pirate orders fruity drink on party boat

Posted: August 31, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Passing | Tags: , , , , , , , , , | Leave a comment

I went to a pirate and sailor themed wedding and dressed as an effeminate pirate.  Due to the extreme puffiness of my shirt, I was able to get away without binding.  (I try to not bind as much as possible; I try to resort to layers and rarely ever bind.  I feel lucky).  So I had this puffy shirt, and I wore it open to display some fine pearl necklaces.  I wore a red and navy blue diagonally striped cumberbund over red cut-off jean shorts and shiny black boots.  I wore my mohawk up tall and proud.  Oh, and I wore a homemade patch on the back of the puffy shirt that has an embroidered lobster and says, “Lobsters: gangsters of the sea.”

The wedding and reception were really incredible.  It was all aboard a touring boat that went along the canal.  More than half of the guests went all out in pirate or sailor costumes.  The food was all vegan and the boat was equipped with a full bar.  The only difficulty was that it was filled to capacity and there wasn’t much wiggle room.  It was very tough to get from point A to point B, so I made it a point to not need to go very many places.  Like trying to get a drink took a very long time.  Luckily I was waiting with a friend instead of stuck waiting by myself; something like this would have made me anxious beyond belief in the past.  But I just chatted with her as the line crept along.  When it was finally our turn, she ordered a beer, and then the bartender turned to me and said, “What’ll you have, sir?”  It was freaking awesome, particularly since I thought I was looking especially femme.  I said, “Gimme the fruitiest drink you got!”  To which he made up a frozen peach margarita and said, “There you are, sir.”  Which completely floored me because I am never sirred once I speak out loud!  In other words, I may be called sir, until I speak, and then people might apologize or “correct their error.”  (There is no such error).

But not on this pirate party boat!  I walked away with fruity drink in hand, feeling light in the shiny black boots.

five months on T without physical changes

Posted: August 18, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: , , , , , , , | 2 Comments

I’m happy to report that outward changes continue to be extremely minimal!  I’m going to focus on the most noticeable internal-experience changes, now that it’s been a good chunk of time and it feels like these changes are here to stay.

Pain:  I was in quite a bit of constant physical pain, mainly joint pain in my hands and arms, probably from repetitive motions at work and/or not eating enough.  Instantly, that was gone.  In addition, I’m just kind of suddenly getting a little bit stronger and work is way easier.  Also, I’m experiencing sensations of pain a lot differently than before.  Like, it’s unpleasant!  Whereas before, the constant joint pain was unpleasant, but certain types of pain (basically, self-inflicted) were pleasant and/or comforting.  I’m not going to say I’ll never self-injure again, but it does feel so far away from where I’m at right now.  That is so amazing to me.  I hated that I did that, even very recently, quite a lot.

Hunger:  Hasn’t ended up being sustainable unfortunately, but seems worth noting.  I felt hungrier for about one week, early on.  I thought eating was a worthwhile thing to do.  Briefly, I had chemical signals connecting food with pleasure centers in my brain; It was awesome!  Like, I would think about and look forward to getting to eat.  I would prefer certain things over other things, by a lot.  That quickly dwindled back to my normal feelings and attitudes about food, which are not very exciting.  Not at all.  Sometimes eating is a real chore, in fact.  The one thing that feels different now is that if I skip eating at a time I usually eat at, I will feel more motivated to catch up.  In that way, I will feel hungrier if I don’t eat.  That wasn’t really true before.  Also, I’ve gained 5 or 6 pounds, which manifests in the one externally noticeable physical change going on – muscle growth, mainly in my arms, shoulders, pecs, and abs.  Really psyched about this.  Can’t go wrong with more muscles!

Warm and Fuzzy:  I just feel cuddly and cozy.  I feel connected to my body in a way I never have before.  It’s really hard to describe, but I’m sure people can relate.  Like, my clothes feel soft on my skin.  Like, I’m walking on pillows and clouds, yet paradoxically, I feel totally grounded.  Like, I had no idea how jagged and disconnected I was before; I had nothing to compare it to.  These sensations have been dwindling over time – I think I’ve been getting used to them.  Like the clouds are not quite as soft and pillowy as they were at first.

Sex Drive:  Having a sex drive I can relate to is awesome.  Being able to have sexual thoughts and have that be connected to a body sensation.  My body responding to sexual stimuli.  Having totally different sensations everywhere on my body than I used to, in a good way.  Clitoral growth, which means actually being able to feel and experience erectile tissue sensations.  Previously, junk was so small and sensitive in a bad way, it wasn’t all that fun.

Anxiety:  The biggest, most drastic change, is anxiety:  totally gone!  Like general anxiety just disappeared into thin air.  I still totally over-think things and mentally worry way too much, but the fact that those thoughts aren’t connected to physical anxiety responses is a huge relief.  I was exerting so much energy on things that don’t matter!  I was feeling so drained and limited by these feelings that I couldn’t get away from before!  It’s a lot of work avoiding things that might trigger unpleasant internal responses; now I don’t do that nearly so much!  It is totally a brain chemistry shift – I don’t know how or why, but it’s not something I’m worrying about haha.  Also, emotionality overall hasn’t changed much.  I still have been experiencing the same range and types of emotions, which I’m happy for.  If anything, there might be a slight capacity to acknowledge anger and frustration now, which seems positive.  I’ll have to see how that plays into my life.

I’ve been on Androgel, 1%, 1 pump (1.25g) per day.  I started with 1.62% for about 2 months, but I started to see some changes that freaked me out (voice dropping and body hair growth), so I asked to switch to 1%.  Which I did for 2 months (voice went back to where it was, body hair growth stopped).  Then recently I started alternating between the two every other day.  Which has been working out so far, and I like.  I just hope I can continue to alternate my prescriptions.  I might be questioned on that…

I have had some other slight physical changes that seem common:  I feel warmer, body temperature-wise.  I’ve had some pimples pop up, particularly in places I wouldn’t normally get pimples – thighs, butt, armpit(?)  I’ve been slightly sweatier (my partner would say significantly sweatier, haha).

I want to be able to use testosterone for the rest of my life, but to not change much, physically speaking, over time, if possible.  So far, it does seem possible.  The internal shifts are too good, I couldn’t have even imagined, or dreamed them up, in advance.  I’m still just hanging out, revelling in it all.  One of the best decisions I’ve ever made.

lifting heavy things and reprioritizing privacy

Posted: August 13, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Janitorial work | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

I was in Massachusetts last week; I didn’t have internet access!  It was pretty great.  Back at work yesterday and today, we haven’t been doing a whole lot.  We’re in transitional mode – the bulk of summer work is done, and we’re gearing up for the school year.  Teachers have been coming in and setting up their rooms, needing things, creating lots of garbage and cardboard to break down.  I think next week is going to be busy, but for now, things have been comically slow at times.  Like yesterday, my first day back after my vacation, I came in at 6:30am, moved about 3 boxes, and then we went on break until about 8:50am.  And I can’t account for that time – I know co-workers were talking that whole time, but I was pretty much in a daze, and it felt like any normal 15-30 minute break.

Then today, we were going to be in the library for a while, cleaning, so I went to go find the radio we’ve been bringing around with us.  I looked all over and couldn’t find it.  I passed my supervisor in the hall and asked her if she knew where it was.  She switched gears and started looking for it; I gave up and went back to the library.  She eventually showed up without it.  Then my co-worker (who really can find anything we’re missing) went to track it down.  He came back and said he found it in a teacher’s classroom, but he couldn’t tell which one was hers and which one was ours.  So he didn’t touch them.  I then went down to the room to get ours.  This all took about an hour.  Then we listened to some sweet soft rock, to make our workday fly by.  One major facet of our job (especially during summers) is remembering where we last left things that we commonly use.  It’s an almost daily occurence that we’ll use a tool and then leave it behind and not need it until the following week and have no idea where we last had it.  A lot of mentally retracing steps.

My co-worker has commented more than once this summer about how strong I am – about how I don’t look it, but I can really lift stuff.  It’s really nice to hear, and true.  I mean, I’ve always gotten right in there to lift heavy things, but I have definitely gained some muscle mass since being on testosterone.  It’s the only noticeable physical change going on, and the only one I actually want and feel comfortable with; it’s all working out awesome so far.  Also, it’s not noticeable at work to the point where it’s unusual.  My uniform shirt is pretty baggy and bulky, so I think his comments are based on the amount I can lift with ease., as opposed to my appearance.  It is noticeable outside of work though, like if I wear a tank top or tighter shirt.  I’ve noticed some of my shirts feeling tighter / fitting better.

I imagine I’ll write more in depth about this at some point, but for now I just want to note that I am not out at work as non-binary.  Nor am I out as trans*.  I’m referred to with female pronouns, and I have never seriously considered advocating for that to change.  It just feels like it would be draining, beyond belief.  I’ve been pathologically private about myself, actually, until very recently when I started forcing myself to talk a little more.  And I finally revealed that I have a partner, and that we’ve been living together the whole time all you guys (co-workers and supervisor) have known me (we’re talking like 6 years).  But I forgot to drop a pronoun or name during that whole conversation, so I had to later use the word “girlfriend” even though I wouldn’t actually refer to her as such, just to be clear.

I’d been gradually realizing that all this secrecy was working against me and my ability to be an actual person while at work.  Since opening up little by little, working relationships have shifted for the better, and I’m feeling significantly more confident and comfortable.

chest piece

Posted: August 6, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Uncategorized | Tags: , , , , , , | Leave a comment

A few years ago, I answered a call out for submissions for a new zine about about the trans/gender variant community and our relationships to our chests.  I wrote a piece and never heard back about the project.  I bugged them 2 or 3 times about it and still got no reply.  At the time, this was really difficult for me because the piece was coming from such a vulnerable place.  It’s just been sitting as a computer file since then, but I’m pretty sure it belongs here:

_______________________________________________

Slowly dissociating from my breasts.  I used to have a love/hate relationship with them, but now I feel deeply disconnected and don’t think about them much.  Unless I think they’re visible under my clothing, in which case I feel really uncomfortable and fixate on hoping no one notices.  I’m lucky they’re so small.  I can get away without binding if I wear the right layers.  So I do that – limit my clothing options to save myself from tense back pain.  I don’t take that for granted, the fact that I do not have to bind. 

I used to cope with stress and frustration, fear and anger by cutting my skin.  I often ended up focusing on my chest.  A lot of times when I was alone, I’d be topless and fizzing with frantic energy.  I’d envision their gory, bloody removal and bask in that thought.  But I also loved them.  It felt good when they were touched; they fit perfectly and comfortably in the palm of each hand.  They seemed like they were a part of me / not a part of me … a part of me … not a part of me.

FROM 5/15/04: I was just wanting something intense to happen. Just by myself, here at the apartment. In addition, I have been obsessing about the removal of my breasts again. There was quite a while when I was ok with them, but I’m not anymore. So I had to pretend like I was going to cut them off. I used that knife and dragged it in sections to form a circle around both. Not deep. It hurt. No blood, but it’ll leave red marks. Like 2 bull’s-eyes. I kind of liked it, but now I look at them and what I did is fucking scary. No emotions to match these actions.

Now though, I don’t act out toward my breasts or dwell on the fact that they’re there. It’s sort of like I don’t really know them. Although sometimes I squeeze my nipples because it feels good, no one else can touch me anywhere near there, or oftentimes, anywhere on my skin at all.  That chest is not a part of me.

I got my first tattoo this past fall.  The image is a scratchy line drawing, a symbol I came up with to express my connection to a deconstructed gender identity.  It’s on my chest, below my right clavicle – to the right of my sternum.  I thought a lot beforehand, while thinking about placement, about whether to incorporate some pretty prominent scars… whether to see if the tattoo could hide them… whether to accentuate the scar lines with the tattoo…  In the end, I wore a tank top that would hide the scars from the tattoo artist, and had the tattoo placed near them but not with them.  Too much shame still surrounds them; they are too personal.  The experience itself was exhilarating and euphoric; I was zoning, reaching a blissed-out state.  And also pushing thoughts of self-mutilation from my mind with every pulse of the tattoo machine.  Hours later, I was out to dinner with my person (who had also gotten a tattoo that afternoon), and emotions unexpectedly flooded in.  Tearing up and unable to dissociate from the parallels between cutting my chest myself and someone else inflicting pain there.  I talked about self-injury and she looked worried.  She knows that was in my past, but I had never really talked about it with her.  I wasn’t regretting the tattoo; I was realizing that the experience had been triggering, no matter how tough I seemed and how good it felt.

I’d like to get more tattoos on my chest.  I fantasize about swimming, being shirt-less, with a sweet chest piece on display.  I am pre-testosterone and pre-surgery (or am I no-hormone and non operative?  I have yet to know).  For now I continue this non-relating to my breasts/chest.  Maybe someday that could change.  Maybe someday I will have the chest I envision (flat and muscular, a male chest).  Although I don’t feel completely male, I don’t feel completely here, in this body, either…

____________________________________________________

I wrote this in 2010.  I’ve been feeling differently about my chest within the past few months, which is exciting.  I had been increasingly wanting to get top surgery, for sure, at some point.  But since being on this low-dose of testosterone, I’m not so concerned about it!  It feels good to be touched there.  Also, my pecs have gotten a little more prominent / maybe my chest is even smaller than before.  For now, I can live with it!  (We’ll see what the future holds.)

Also a quick rant:  If you are collecting submissions for a project, a rejection letter / email is 100X better than no email at all.  Or, if you end up just dropping the ball on your project, please let people who submitted know the status.  I was wondering for a long time what happened after submitting my piece.

further access to testosterone despite not medically transitioning

Posted: July 30, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Friday, I picked up a prescription for Androgel refills, and I’m now covered for 4 more months at $6.25 per month!!!  No appointment, no blood work, no more insurance hassles.  I felt elated that it was so easy.  I feel like initially when I was trying to get some testosterone a few months ago, I was going back for so many appointments, having to call insurance, having to wait for the pharmacy to phone my doctor, worrying I was going to be denied access because I was being upfront about not planning to use it to medically transition, etc.  It almost seemed not worth it.  But objectively, it was actually relatively easy to get.  And I’m so grateful I have health insurance.

It’s just that I wanted very badly to continue avoiding doctors and all that stuff for the rest of my life, kinda.  When I was younger, I was going to psychiatrists and getting prescriptions all the time.  Going to pharmacies, getting blood drawn, getting refills, trying sample pharmaceuticals, being misdiagnosed.  In a way, it feels like that’s what my young adulthood was about:  being mentally ill, seeing myself as someone who is mentally ill and not often fully functioning.  And then I just dropped out of the health system for like 8 years and gave up on pills.  I liked that, the dropping out, and really dreaded getting back into it in order to access testosterone.  It is so worth it though.  And the hard parts (I hope) are over.

Today at work, we went to our annual safety meeting, where we go over asbestos awareness, chemicals, fire hazards, blood-borne pathogens, the dangers of ladders, and how to lift heavy things.  It’s the same exact power point presentation every year, but I always really love it because it’s the only opportunity to get to see all the janitors from all the schools in the district.  I get to say hi to all the people I’ve worked with in the past.  And eat donuts!  My co-worker ate 2 bagels and 2 donuts.  I ate 2 donuts, a half of a bagel, and a cup of fruit.  It’s awesome that there was actually more than enough food this year.  In the past few years, they’ve skimped on the food, and it’s kind of been a bummer.

Also, I just want to note that I saw Swans this past week, and I went and sat down and fell asleep for the last 20 minutes of the show, despite their deafening levels, their heavy duty concrete walls of sound (I was wearing ear plugs).

 

 

low-dose testosterone for the rest of my life

Posted: July 24, 2013 | Author: | Filed under: Testosterone | Tags: , , , , , | 7 Comments

I’m a janitor at a school.  Also, sometimes I waltz around as a drag king (or once in a while, queen).  I feel pretty masculine, but I have no plans to medically transition anytime soon – most likely, I never will.  I strongly feel that I’d be lost if I were to transition and blend in as male.  As far as blending in as female?  That just sounds absurd in my head.  No way I feel I could, even though I’m aware I’m read as female most of the time.  …because it’s the default.  If I don’t tell people differently, how could they know how I see myself?  They can’t.  I’m not a woman (or a man).  I’m not a lesbian.  I’m not a butch dyke.  I’m not gay (er… that’s complicated).  But I probably look like those things.

About 4 months ago, I started a low-dose testosterone adventure.  I wanted to take testosterone long term while ideally, not going through any physical changes.  I didn’t know whether this would be possible, and I still have yet to find any information about whether it’s possible, specifically.  I largely feel comfortable with where I’m at in terms of gender presentation and expression.  But I’d been wondering a lot if certain internal experiences could be better.  Gradually, I found myself in a place where I realized, I need to try out a few things and see what works for me.  I got on a really low dose of Androgel and was completely floored by how well my body seemed to connect with additional testosterone.  To me, it feels like it has a whole lot more to do with my mental health than it does with my gender identity, but of course, it’s all intertwined.  As of now, I plan to be on testosterone for the rest of my life if possible, while minimizing physical changes.  I’m taking testosterone toward androgyny.  Although, I’m already androgynous, so I hope to be transitioning (outwardly) toward more of the same, actually.

I’ve felt a lot of different shifts, but most noteworthy is that my general anxiety is pretty much gone.  I spent my late teens and early twenties on a lot of different medications (antidepressants, mood stabilizers, antipsychotics) trying to find some balance.  None of these worked well for me.  Some of them were really shitty.  I just gave up and went off all medications, just tried to live with the anxiety and obsessive thought patterns.  I’m now in my early thirties, and it feels like increased testosterone was the missing link all along.  It is certainly significant.  I feel relatively balanced and at peace, for the first time in my life really.  And I owe that to trying testosterone under the unfounded assumption that maybe I really don’t have to go through many, if any at all, physical changes.

About 2 months in, I was freaking out that no, it wasn’t going to be possible, and I was going to have to stop.  I had acquired a tiny moustache.  My voice dropped the slightest bit, which really had me worried.  But I tried a lower concentrated version instead of stopping all together, still felt the incredible internal benefits, and as more time goes on, it does seem very possible.  My voice returned to the range I’m used to and comfortable with.  Other subtle changes have plateaued out, and I stopped worrying so much that I was going to have to choose between coming out in new ways to people I that didn’t really want to come out to, or stopping this thing that I was falling in love with, internally.

A lot of what I write about is going to be about whether this is still possible for me or not.  And I’m going to hope to gather info from others’ experiences, over time as well.

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