Two weeks ago, I had a visit from the new lady in my life. She took a bus eight hours from five hundred miles away to visit me for a weekend. It was the most amazing weekend in recent memory. I am in awe that life can really be like this, especially after giving up hope so long ago. Last weekend, I made the same trip north to see her for a day and a half. I met warm, welcoming people, and solidified plans to move to a new city.
I feel like I was begging the universe for a way out of a deep rut, and this beautiful and perfect situation appeared in front of me. Even if the relationship doesn't work out for whatever unforseen reason, I will appreciate the new outlook it's given me.
Two Thursdays ago, however - my dad came with me to a therapy session. While I don't care to go into heavy detail, he was extremely unsupportive of my identity. Trans people simultaneously baffle and disgust him, and he says that he will never call me by a new name, or refer to me with male pronouns. He is dead set on seeing me as his daughter, along with the identity he's created around that idea. I don't harbor negativity towards him for this - and it was actually a huge deal for him to show up in the first place. He hates therapy, and he was simultaneously condescending, defensive, and agressive during the whole session.
I am very happy with my life right now, and hope that he will come around before I'm his age. He vaguely threatened that there would be serious repercussions (whatever that means in this case) if I change my body permanently. I didn't press it, but I figured that would happen. He doesn't know that I've started on hormones, and I don't really plan to tell him until real changes start becoming apparent. I want to set up a life for myself when I move to Minneapolis, just in case he freaks out. I feel very empowered by the steps I'm taking to realize my own life.
I know that at the very least, my dad loves me and only wants what's best for me. I think that the main problem is how he views "trans-ness" and gender in general. He feels like this is an emotional problem, cry for help, or a grab for attention. It also seems that he feels he can control what I do by resisting as hard as possible. Hopefully, he can someday see that I'm perfectly capable of deciding what's best for me, as a rational adult.
At the end of the session, he asked if I see myself as someone who does things for attention. I said that while I might like unconventional things sometimes, I really don't do them for that reason. My therapist surprised me by saying that I was one of the most considerate and conscientious people she's ever met, and that she doesn't think I do things to get attention. While I'm also generally pretty embarassed about tooting my own horn, I wanted to include that in here. While her saying that seemed almost over the line, it made me feel as though I had a true ally, as well as a therapist with my best interest in mind. Awesome.
Today is technically a month after my first testosterone injection, although I changed the actual injecting to a day earlier. As far as physical and emotional changes go, they've been fairly noticeable so far.
The physical:
I've noticed that the skin on my face is a bit rougher. I think I look a little different from "pre-T" photos I took a month ago. For whatever reason, my sinuses clear up significantly a day or two after injecting. This is a huge bonus, as I've had sinus issues for years. My voice has already deepened a bit, and I can go into a lower register without feeling choked by my voicebox. I'm not big on trying to speak with a lower voice, but it comes more naturally when I want it to. From time to time, my throat tingles in a way I've never felt before. It's almost like drinking something carbonated, but in my windpipe instead of my esophagus. I assume that it's my larynx, or the muscles surrounding it.
I am no longer menstruating (no "spotting" either, yay)...pretty much the best realization ever. I think it's an amazing and wonderful process, and yay for other people bleeding every month. It just always felt foreign and bad for my body, and I'll appreciate not having to battle crippling cramps twelve times a year.
My complexion is still pretty oily now, but I'm back using the Proactiv system to battle acne, and some generic face wipes for greasy feelings in the middle of the day. My sex drive isn't "through the roof" or anything, but it's definitely heightened. I am still fully in control of what's going on in my head, though - which was my only main concern. The new relationship is helping immensely, and it's driven me to accept my body in ways I always struggled with before. I still want to change it, but I don't feel like I need to put up a wall until that happens.
Even though I've been slacking on the gym, I feel a bit stronger and some muscles have a little more definition. The winter weather hasn't bothered me nearly as much, and I feel warmer in general.
The mental/emotional:
I feel very confident and empowered (to use that word again) regarding my sense of self and control over my own life. I used to have thousand things running through my head sometimes, and as of late, my mind is very quiet. I can think about a single topic and stick with it. If I have nothing I'm actively thinking about, I just default into thinking about/humming a song. I've noticed that in the day or two following an injection, I am so calm that I almost feel high.
My therapist described a brain flooded with testosterone as having a "winding path" between having a thought, and reaching a feeling about it. This is in contrast to a brain flooded with estrogen, which would have more of a highway between the two. I don't know how true this is, or will end up being. I look forward to figuring it out in the future.
Thursday, December 18, 2008
Wednesday, December 3, 2008
T.N.T.
So much has been going on in the past few months. I still haven't posted all of my coming out letters, but I plan to.
My mom has been overwhelmingly supportive. Almost all of my aunts and uncles that I contacted responded positively. My brother basically said he loved me no matter what, and that it's my life. My dad seems to be dealing with things in the way I expected. He's acting as if almost nothing has happened, in hopes that I will change my mind and the problem will go away on its own. He's still using feminine pronouns and my given name. It seems like he's trying harder to refer to me in this way, and drop hints about the future he wants me to have. At one point, he said something about me hopefully giving birth one day, and after gifting me some money, told me not to spend it on surgery. He also said that he doesn't want to lose his daughter.
My brother is taking the easy route and pretending like nothing major is happening either, despite his initial support. When I last saw him, he was still using my old name and pronouns. I assume this is partially because of my dad.
All in all, I feel my relationship with my family has strengthened. I visited my mom for Thanksgiving, and she is trying to be as respectful as possible. She's already started calling me by my new name and pronouns, and her boyfriend is too. I met his family and friends, and everything was practically seamless. The people that I had met before were respectful as well, and I didn't notice any slip-ups.
I also started on testosterone on November 20th. Because my schedule was hectic around the two-week mark, I decided to give myself the injection a day early. It went reasonably well, and I think I'll be okay. I want to do a larger entry on the whole process leading up to the first injection, so I'll save that for later. But it was a very empowering and comfortable experience overall. I've already started seeing and feeling some of the effects, and it's been 99% positive. The only thing I mind at all is the slightly oilier skin, but I've got that taken care of.
I also went through a fairly bad breakup. Nothing was a result of trans issues, and I'm not going to go into it further here. Hopefully we can be friends eventually, since I don't harbor any serious negativity or anything.
A couple of months after that, I met an amazing woman and am currently head over heels. The whole situation baffles me, since I wasn't looking to get involved with anyone after the aforementioned breakup. Everyone tells me that these things seem to happen right when you stop looking for them or expecting them. I don't really believe in luck or "willing" what you want into your world, but I'm pretty blown away here. I have never felt so comfortable with someone, or so connected...especially right after the first real conversation. More on this later as well, I'm sure.
My mom has been overwhelmingly supportive. Almost all of my aunts and uncles that I contacted responded positively. My brother basically said he loved me no matter what, and that it's my life. My dad seems to be dealing with things in the way I expected. He's acting as if almost nothing has happened, in hopes that I will change my mind and the problem will go away on its own. He's still using feminine pronouns and my given name. It seems like he's trying harder to refer to me in this way, and drop hints about the future he wants me to have. At one point, he said something about me hopefully giving birth one day, and after gifting me some money, told me not to spend it on surgery. He also said that he doesn't want to lose his daughter.
My brother is taking the easy route and pretending like nothing major is happening either, despite his initial support. When I last saw him, he was still using my old name and pronouns. I assume this is partially because of my dad.
All in all, I feel my relationship with my family has strengthened. I visited my mom for Thanksgiving, and she is trying to be as respectful as possible. She's already started calling me by my new name and pronouns, and her boyfriend is too. I met his family and friends, and everything was practically seamless. The people that I had met before were respectful as well, and I didn't notice any slip-ups.
I also started on testosterone on November 20th. Because my schedule was hectic around the two-week mark, I decided to give myself the injection a day early. It went reasonably well, and I think I'll be okay. I want to do a larger entry on the whole process leading up to the first injection, so I'll save that for later. But it was a very empowering and comfortable experience overall. I've already started seeing and feeling some of the effects, and it's been 99% positive. The only thing I mind at all is the slightly oilier skin, but I've got that taken care of.
I also went through a fairly bad breakup. Nothing was a result of trans issues, and I'm not going to go into it further here. Hopefully we can be friends eventually, since I don't harbor any serious negativity or anything.
A couple of months after that, I met an amazing woman and am currently head over heels. The whole situation baffles me, since I wasn't looking to get involved with anyone after the aforementioned breakup. Everyone tells me that these things seem to happen right when you stop looking for them or expecting them. I don't really believe in luck or "willing" what you want into your world, but I'm pretty blown away here. I have never felt so comfortable with someone, or so connected...especially right after the first real conversation. More on this later as well, I'm sure.
Sunday, October 19, 2008
Big A Little A, Part 2.
So...it's taken me a while to get back on track with this. But I'm going to keep trying to publish these in the order I sent them out. Brackets are editorial changes.
"[My brother],
I'm sure you've got a packed life before you run off to college or whatever else, but it would mean a lot to me if you could read all of this. This is [old name's] email, by the way - if you don't have it in your contacts or whatever.
So. I know we never had the greatest sibling relationship when we were growing up. I think things are better now that both of us have our own friends and lives. I hope you don't think that I hate you or anything. It was hard for me to grow up and see Mom and Dad treat you differently (for whatever reason) – the things you were/are able to get away with, all the attention you got, all the stuff you were allowed to have, lose, and get replaced. For a long time, I felt like I was getting the short end of the stick. And while I don't think you were rubbing it in my face or anything, it was hard to grow up in that situation and form some great sibling bond with your little brother. So I apologize for taking any negative feelings out on you - I was stupid and young.
I hope as you get older, you have great friendships and relationships. Living in a house with Dad and [our stepmother] is probably insane, and I'm sure you'll figure out what you want to do with your life once you get a little space from them. If I can give you any advice for college or getting a little older, it would be to try new things, and avoid fucking up too badly. Try to be a good person, and try to help others do the same. Listen to people, try not to be selfish (especially if you're sleeping with/dating that person). Even if this is a weird or awkward thing to hear from your sibling – it's still a huge deal. If you're sleeping with someone, and they say they're not ready for something, or they don't want to do something – seriously, listen to them. Don't push them to do it, don't beg or otherwise act shitty to them if they don't want to. Try to minimize stuff you do when you and/or the other person is shitfaced. I think you're a good person, and I'm not saying you do this stuff. I just think it's a huge deal and important to say to your brother who might be going off to college. There are a lot of little things human beings do to each other that suck – and I think it's great to be conscious of them, and try to be a better person than that. Anyway, that's my stupid little rant about getting older.
I've really enjoyed living in the city for the past few years. My life has had ups and downs, and I'm still struggling with all the crap that Mom has brought to the table. But I have a lot of really good friends, a great girlfriend, an interesting and fun job. I think I'm living my life totally differently from what I was told is normal at [the high school we both went to]. And it's awesome.
I think when we were growing up, we were stuck with half a family a lot of the time. Mom and Dad were fighting and angry a lot, and we never really got to see Dad's side of the family for years and years. Now there's a lot of the same crap, but in different ways. Hopefully you think of me at least as someone you can talk to if things are totally crazy – at school, with Mom or Dad, with friends, whatever. Life is really too short to spend a huge chunk of it being miserable. And there's always something you can do to change things for the better, even if it means you have to make some pretty big changes. So I hope you always feel like you have somewhere to go, and someone to talk to.
So yeah. I figured I'd start this off with stuff about you or the family, since the stuff about me is harder to talk about. I don't want to add to any of the craziness in your life, and this is just me telling you about myself directly, so you don't hear about it through the family grapevine.
Maybe this isn't on your radar, maybe it's going to sound totally weird. Maybe it'll make sense to you in some way, since you've known me for 18 years now. But ever since I was a really little kid, I've never thought of myself as a girl. I don't feel like anyone brought me up "wrong" or anything – since I've felt this way since I was 4 or 5. I've always hated wearing girly anything (and I bet you can count the few times you've seen me in a dress). For a long time, I thought I was just a little less girly than my friends, and then I thought I was that way because I dated girls. Nothing really made sense in the way it was supposed to, and after a while, I just tried not to think about it too much.
I slowly made friends who were completely different from what society told them they had to be. After a few years, I realized that maybe I was really similar to a couple of them. The body I was born with was totally different from who I felt I really was inside. It's a really hard thing to explain, but if you were told to act and dress like a girl all your life, and everyone called you [feminine name loosely based on his] - I imagine it would be strange, to say the least. If that's the exact opposite of how you saw yourself, then it would probably really suck.
The technical term for people like me is transgendered. As in "that person is transgendered". Some people shorten it to "trans", as in "that person is trans". I think a lot of people have heard of cross-dressers and transvestites, which isn't the same thing. Transgender is defined as: "...the state of one's "gender identity" (self-identification as woman, man, or neither) not matching one's "assigned sex" (identification by others as male or female based on physical/genetic sex. "Transgender" does not imply any specific form of sexual orientation." So basically, someone who's born one way, and their feelings about their body and self are different from that. And then there's people who are "Transsexual" - trans people who want to change their bodies to reflect how they feel inside – either through surgery, or taking certain medications.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Transgender
I don't just "not see myself as a girl", I see myself as a guy. And it makes a hell of a lot more sense than pretending I'm a girl because I was born with a certain set of parts. Everyone knows this about me, except for our family and my boss/coworkers. For a long time, I was really afraid to tell Dad specifically, because he was awkward enough about me dating girls and thinking I was just a big homo [totally down with the queers - this was just a joke]. I thought if I told him about all this, he would freak out and disown me. Now, I don't care. I'd rather live a real life than hide really important things about myself from my family. If people think I'm a freak or hate me or whatever, at least they know the real me. I hope you don't hate me or think I'm a freak, though.
Some trans guys take male hormones and have surgery to align their bodies and minds more. I'd be happy to talk to you about this if you want to know a little more about it – through email or in person, whatever's comfortable. I plan on doing this stuff sometime in the near future, through reputable doctors who know what they're doing. I have the money for it, even if Dad won't help me or ever talk to me again. I understand if it seems like a lot to deal with all at once, but this has been on my mind for a lifetime. I've thought about all the sides of it, and I'm totally serious. This isn't some random fad that I heard about a month ago or something. So I hope you'll try to understand it and respect me.
A lot of trans people start using different names once they are "out" to their friends/family/whoever. People change their names, birth certificates and other legal documents totally legally to reflect their name and gender changes. R. and all of my friends call me [nickname], which is a nickname based off of [new name]. I was thinking about names for a long time, and even though this one is pretty dude-tastic, it clicked really well. And keeping in line with what I was saying before, I would appreciate it if you could use masculine pronouns for me, like he/him/his. I would be really happy if you would call me [nickname] (or [other nickname] or [new name], whatever's most comfortable). It's okay if you accidentally forget, or slip up and call me by my old name/pronouns a couple of times. Obviously this is a big change, and it's hard to retrain your mind to completely new things. But I'm just asking you to try, because this means a lot to me. And intentionally calling me by my old name and girl pronouns will just make me feel disrespected and sad.
Like I said before, I'm happy to answer any questions you have about this. It's not exactly something they teach you about in school, so I don't expect you to have some magical knowledge already. There's information about trans people on the internet too, if you want to look up anything on your own. If you want some links to stuff, I'm happy to find some good ones for you. I don't want things to be super weird between us because of this. This is just who I feel I am, and what I'm doing with that knowledge. Hopefully the rest of the family won't freak out too bad.
-[me]"
"[My brother],
I'm sure you've got a packed life before you run off to college or whatever else, but it would mean a lot to me if you could read all of this. This is [old name's] email, by the way - if you don't have it in your contacts or whatever.
So. I know we never had the greatest sibling relationship when we were growing up. I think things are better now that both of us have our own friends and lives. I hope you don't think that I hate you or anything. It was hard for me to grow up and see Mom and Dad treat you differently (for whatever reason) – the things you were/are able to get away with, all the attention you got, all the stuff you were allowed to have, lose, and get replaced. For a long time, I felt like I was getting the short end of the stick. And while I don't think you were rubbing it in my face or anything, it was hard to grow up in that situation and form some great sibling bond with your little brother. So I apologize for taking any negative feelings out on you - I was stupid and young.
I hope as you get older, you have great friendships and relationships. Living in a house with Dad and [our stepmother] is probably insane, and I'm sure you'll figure out what you want to do with your life once you get a little space from them. If I can give you any advice for college or getting a little older, it would be to try new things, and avoid fucking up too badly. Try to be a good person, and try to help others do the same. Listen to people, try not to be selfish (especially if you're sleeping with/dating that person). Even if this is a weird or awkward thing to hear from your sibling – it's still a huge deal. If you're sleeping with someone, and they say they're not ready for something, or they don't want to do something – seriously, listen to them. Don't push them to do it, don't beg or otherwise act shitty to them if they don't want to. Try to minimize stuff you do when you and/or the other person is shitfaced. I think you're a good person, and I'm not saying you do this stuff. I just think it's a huge deal and important to say to your brother who might be going off to college. There are a lot of little things human beings do to each other that suck – and I think it's great to be conscious of them, and try to be a better person than that. Anyway, that's my stupid little rant about getting older.
I've really enjoyed living in the city for the past few years. My life has had ups and downs, and I'm still struggling with all the crap that Mom has brought to the table. But I have a lot of really good friends, a great girlfriend, an interesting and fun job. I think I'm living my life totally differently from what I was told is normal at [the high school we both went to]. And it's awesome.
I think when we were growing up, we were stuck with half a family a lot of the time. Mom and Dad were fighting and angry a lot, and we never really got to see Dad's side of the family for years and years. Now there's a lot of the same crap, but in different ways. Hopefully you think of me at least as someone you can talk to if things are totally crazy – at school, with Mom or Dad, with friends, whatever. Life is really too short to spend a huge chunk of it being miserable. And there's always something you can do to change things for the better, even if it means you have to make some pretty big changes. So I hope you always feel like you have somewhere to go, and someone to talk to.
So yeah. I figured I'd start this off with stuff about you or the family, since the stuff about me is harder to talk about. I don't want to add to any of the craziness in your life, and this is just me telling you about myself directly, so you don't hear about it through the family grapevine.
Maybe this isn't on your radar, maybe it's going to sound totally weird. Maybe it'll make sense to you in some way, since you've known me for 18 years now. But ever since I was a really little kid, I've never thought of myself as a girl. I don't feel like anyone brought me up "wrong" or anything – since I've felt this way since I was 4 or 5. I've always hated wearing girly anything (and I bet you can count the few times you've seen me in a dress). For a long time, I thought I was just a little less girly than my friends, and then I thought I was that way because I dated girls. Nothing really made sense in the way it was supposed to, and after a while, I just tried not to think about it too much.
I slowly made friends who were completely different from what society told them they had to be. After a few years, I realized that maybe I was really similar to a couple of them. The body I was born with was totally different from who I felt I really was inside. It's a really hard thing to explain, but if you were told to act and dress like a girl all your life, and everyone called you [feminine name loosely based on his] - I imagine it would be strange, to say the least. If that's the exact opposite of how you saw yourself, then it would probably really suck.
The technical term for people like me is transgendered. As in "that person is transgendered". Some people shorten it to "trans", as in "that person is trans". I think a lot of people have heard of cross-dressers and transvestites, which isn't the same thing. Transgender is defined as: "...the state of one's "gender identity" (self-identification as woman, man, or neither) not matching one's "assigned sex" (identification by others as male or female based on physical/genetic sex. "Transgender" does not imply any specific form of sexual orientation." So basically, someone who's born one way, and their feelings about their body and self are different from that. And then there's people who are "Transsexual" - trans people who want to change their bodies to reflect how they feel inside – either through surgery, or taking certain medications.
http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/
I don't just "not see myself as a girl", I see myself as a guy. And it makes a hell of a lot more sense than pretending I'm a girl because I was born with a certain set of parts. Everyone knows this about me, except for our family and my boss/coworkers. For a long time, I was really afraid to tell Dad specifically, because he was awkward enough about me dating girls and thinking I was just a big homo [totally down with the queers - this was just a joke]. I thought if I told him about all this, he would freak out and disown me. Now, I don't care. I'd rather live a real life than hide really important things about myself from my family. If people think I'm a freak or hate me or whatever, at least they know the real me. I hope you don't hate me or think I'm a freak, though.
Some trans guys take male hormones and have surgery to align their bodies and minds more. I'd be happy to talk to you about this if you want to know a little more about it – through email or in person, whatever's comfortable. I plan on doing this stuff sometime in the near future, through reputable doctors who know what they're doing. I have the money for it, even if Dad won't help me or ever talk to me again. I understand if it seems like a lot to deal with all at once, but this has been on my mind for a lifetime. I've thought about all the sides of it, and I'm totally serious. This isn't some random fad that I heard about a month ago or something. So I hope you'll try to understand it and respect me.
A lot of trans people start using different names once they are "out" to their friends/family/whoever. People change their names, birth certificates and other legal documents totally legally to reflect their name and gender changes. R. and all of my friends call me [nickname], which is a nickname based off of [new name]. I was thinking about names for a long time, and even though this one is pretty dude-tastic, it clicked really well. And keeping in line with what I was saying before, I would appreciate it if you could use masculine pronouns for me, like he/him/his. I would be really happy if you would call me [nickname] (or [other nickname] or [new name], whatever's most comfortable). It's okay if you accidentally forget, or slip up and call me by my old name/pronouns a couple of times. Obviously this is a big change, and it's hard to retrain your mind to completely new things. But I'm just asking you to try, because this means a lot to me. And intentionally calling me by my old name and girl pronouns will just make me feel disrespected and sad.
Like I said before, I'm happy to answer any questions you have about this. It's not exactly something they teach you about in school, so I don't expect you to have some magical knowledge already. There's information about trans people on the internet too, if you want to look up anything on your own. If you want some links to stuff, I'm happy to find some good ones for you. I don't want things to be super weird between us because of this. This is just who I feel I am, and what I'm doing with that knowledge. Hopefully the rest of the family won't freak out too bad.
-[me]"
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Big A Little A, Part 1.
On September 10th, 2008, I came out to my family.
I was home for a minute, waiting for news on whether or not my friends would be going to a movie night. I hammered out a letter to my mom, and surprised myself by emailing her. I quickly edited what I had wrote for my brother, dad and extended family - I took a breath, and sent them all.
My dad's was the hardest to send. My mom's was the easiest. Pretty much what I had predicted. Because this is supposed to be a record of these things, I'm going to post them all. Sorry for all the brackets - I still want to keep this fairly anonymous since I haven't asked any of these people if they want their lives in a public blog.
"Mom,
I know that communication hasn't been too great recently, but I'm happy to hear from you more often. I believe when you say that you and A. [my mom's boyfriend] are clean and doing much better - I hope you're not lying to me, and that you stay healthy and happy. If it's not obvious, I only want the best for you. As I said before, life is way too short. Life is even too short to do all the things we do enjoy, and see the people we do want to see - no use messing it up with a lot of stuff that just makes us unhappy.
It seems to me like a lot of the time, we have to chew through the bad on our plate in order to make room for the good. I hope that if you still have things you want to talk about or work through, that you find someone who can really help you. If you feel like you can keep this at bay without being in a lot of institutions, then that's your choice and I support you in it. But regardless of whether or not you're able to keep beating a serious thing like addiction, I think it's so important to figure out how you got there in the first place. I try to apply this idea to my life too - I'm not judging you, just offering you the same advice I use on myself.
I believe you're a strong enough person to make the right choices in your life. Ones that mean a healthy path for yourself and those around you. Whether or not you believe in the idea that you need to "surrender to a higher power" - I think that you can be your own higher power. We each are responsible for our own decisions in life, and you are the only one who decides a positive or negative path for yourself. I will always be proud of you when you are sober. Regardless of the fact that R. [my brother] is a surly teenager who might be upset with you right now - I can guarantee 100% that he is proud of you too. You will always be our mother, and we will always love you no matter how many times you screw up. I'm not saying do whatever whenever, but as long as you are genuinely trying, I will be happy. And the more you can stay healthy, the happier I will be.
Right now, life is good on my end. R. [my girlfriend] and I are still together. I'm still living in Dad's building, and work is always great. I'm still making new friends, traveling to new cities, and riding stupid bikes. I'm still working on the tattoo thing, but I've at least met the woman who might apprentice me someday. I need to figure out a way in, but I'm not rushing it.
That said, I have something important to tell you. For as long as I can remember, I have never felt like a girl, a gal, a lady, whatever. In the past couple of years, I've done some "soul searching". I can say with 100% certainty that I feel like a dude, a guy, a man. Or more formally, a transgendered person or "trans" man.
I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you sooner. It's taken me a long time to get to this point, and obviously there were a lot of roadblocks along the way in our relationship. While I feel I could have told you a little bit sooner, I didn't want to share (what I think is) great news with you if you weren't in a mental place to hear it. One more reason why I am so happy to hear that you're sober. My biggest worry is that you will feel like you're losing a daughter, and/or a connection to your own mom. Obviously these things are important to you, and they're important to me too. I hope you can understand that I never grew up feeling like a daughter or granddaughter, and this doesn't change my perspective on my family ties. If anything, I have always felt like my [maternal extended] family has been my real model for the world. Even though I never met my grandparents, I know I would love them, and want to make them proud. And I even have a giant tribute/memorial tattoo to show for it - not exactly a temporary thing.
I am sending letters like this out to Dad, R. [brother], Dad's family, and your family. I don't want people to gossip about this like it's some scary, secret thing. I understand that it's different and not the most common thing in the world, but imagine what it feels like for me! I can honestly say that after I figured out this part of myself, a lot of other things made sense in my past that didn't before. Maybe you'll think of some things too - it's not like my life has been completely smooth and boring. As a quick example - this is why I never told you that I was "gay" or a "lesbian". I told you I dated girls. But when you feel like a guy inside, liking girls doesn't make you a lesbian. So...there's that.
I'm totally fine with talking about this stuff in more detail, but this letter will already be long and I'm trying not to freak out as it is. Email will probably be easiest for me, but we can talk on the phone too. Anyway - after thinking about "guy" names for a million years, I finally found one that fit. [name] It's fairly formal, so I usually go by a nickname - [nickname]. [Other nickname] works too, but it would make me really, really happy if you would use one of those names for me, as well as masculine pronouns (he, him, his).
I'm going to start taking testosterone (legally, through a licensed doctor). It'll change my appearance a bit, and I'll start looking more masculine. I eventually plan to have surgery someday soon too - it's a long, complicated, and expensive process though, so I probably won't start on that for at least six months to a year.
The one thing I'll tell you that I probably won't tell Dad or anyone else for a long time - when I finally change my name legally, my middle name will be [middle name], and my last name will be [new last name]. I added the [extra letter] to round it out a bit, and considering that Grandma shortened the name in the first place, I didn't feel too bad about it. So there's that family connection again - just a little different, but not really too far from where it started.
I love you.
-[me]"
I was home for a minute, waiting for news on whether or not my friends would be going to a movie night. I hammered out a letter to my mom, and surprised myself by emailing her. I quickly edited what I had wrote for my brother, dad and extended family - I took a breath, and sent them all.
My dad's was the hardest to send. My mom's was the easiest. Pretty much what I had predicted. Because this is supposed to be a record of these things, I'm going to post them all. Sorry for all the brackets - I still want to keep this fairly anonymous since I haven't asked any of these people if they want their lives in a public blog.
"Mom,
I know that communication hasn't been too great recently, but I'm happy to hear from you more often. I believe when you say that you and A. [my mom's boyfriend] are clean and doing much better - I hope you're not lying to me, and that you stay healthy and happy. If it's not obvious, I only want the best for you. As I said before, life is way too short. Life is even too short to do all the things we do enjoy, and see the people we do want to see - no use messing it up with a lot of stuff that just makes us unhappy.
It seems to me like a lot of the time, we have to chew through the bad on our plate in order to make room for the good. I hope that if you still have things you want to talk about or work through, that you find someone who can really help you. If you feel like you can keep this at bay without being in a lot of institutions, then that's your choice and I support you in it. But regardless of whether or not you're able to keep beating a serious thing like addiction, I think it's so important to figure out how you got there in the first place. I try to apply this idea to my life too - I'm not judging you, just offering you the same advice I use on myself.
I believe you're a strong enough person to make the right choices in your life. Ones that mean a healthy path for yourself and those around you. Whether or not you believe in the idea that you need to "surrender to a higher power" - I think that you can be your own higher power. We each are responsible for our own decisions in life, and you are the only one who decides a positive or negative path for yourself. I will always be proud of you when you are sober. Regardless of the fact that R. [my brother] is a surly teenager who might be upset with you right now - I can guarantee 100% that he is proud of you too. You will always be our mother, and we will always love you no matter how many times you screw up. I'm not saying do whatever whenever, but as long as you are genuinely trying, I will be happy. And the more you can stay healthy, the happier I will be.
Right now, life is good on my end. R. [my girlfriend] and I are still together. I'm still living in Dad's building, and work is always great. I'm still making new friends, traveling to new cities, and riding stupid bikes. I'm still working on the tattoo thing, but I've at least met the woman who might apprentice me someday. I need to figure out a way in, but I'm not rushing it.
That said, I have something important to tell you. For as long as I can remember, I have never felt like a girl, a gal, a lady, whatever. In the past couple of years, I've done some "soul searching". I can say with 100% certainty that I feel like a dude, a guy, a man. Or more formally, a transgendered person or "trans" man.
I'm sorry that I couldn't tell you sooner. It's taken me a long time to get to this point, and obviously there were a lot of roadblocks along the way in our relationship. While I feel I could have told you a little bit sooner, I didn't want to share (what I think is) great news with you if you weren't in a mental place to hear it. One more reason why I am so happy to hear that you're sober. My biggest worry is that you will feel like you're losing a daughter, and/or a connection to your own mom. Obviously these things are important to you, and they're important to me too. I hope you can understand that I never grew up feeling like a daughter or granddaughter, and this doesn't change my perspective on my family ties. If anything, I have always felt like my [maternal extended] family has been my real model for the world. Even though I never met my grandparents, I know I would love them, and want to make them proud. And I even have a giant tribute/memorial tattoo to show for it - not exactly a temporary thing.
I am sending letters like this out to Dad, R. [brother], Dad's family, and your family. I don't want people to gossip about this like it's some scary, secret thing. I understand that it's different and not the most common thing in the world, but imagine what it feels like for me! I can honestly say that after I figured out this part of myself, a lot of other things made sense in my past that didn't before. Maybe you'll think of some things too - it's not like my life has been completely smooth and boring. As a quick example - this is why I never told you that I was "gay" or a "lesbian". I told you I dated girls. But when you feel like a guy inside, liking girls doesn't make you a lesbian. So...there's that.
I'm totally fine with talking about this stuff in more detail, but this letter will already be long and I'm trying not to freak out as it is. Email will probably be easiest for me, but we can talk on the phone too. Anyway - after thinking about "guy" names for a million years, I finally found one that fit. [name] It's fairly formal, so I usually go by a nickname - [nickname]. [Other nickname] works too, but it would make me really, really happy if you would use one of those names for me, as well as masculine pronouns (he, him, his).
I'm going to start taking testosterone (legally, through a licensed doctor). It'll change my appearance a bit, and I'll start looking more masculine. I eventually plan to have surgery someday soon too - it's a long, complicated, and expensive process though, so I probably won't start on that for at least six months to a year.
The one thing I'll tell you that I probably won't tell Dad or anyone else for a long time - when I finally change my name legally, my middle name will be [middle name], and my last name will be [new last name]. I added the [extra letter] to round it out a bit, and considering that Grandma shortened the name in the first place, I didn't feel too bad about it. So there's that family connection again - just a little different, but not really too far from where it started.
I love you.
-[me]"
Tuesday, August 26, 2008
Born to run.
As the days tick away before I come out to my family, I feel like I'm standing in the eye of the storm. There seems to be so much going on, and I can't help but feel like I'm set to jump into a hurricane. I don't know if I've intentionally distanced myself from these things, or who I'm trying to protect if I am.
My dad and stepmom just had a baby. Another boy - which makes three of us in that part of the family. R drove me to visit everyone in the hospital, and we ended up having a fun, if awkward time. No "this is my girlfriend"s, just "have you met R?" introductions with some of my aunts and my stepmom's family. They eventually forced me to hold the new baby, even though I was terrified I'd drop him or something. For some reason, he was calm and sleepy with everyone else, and only started doing wiggly baby aerobics when I held him.
Part of me is really worried that coming out to my family is going to be seen as a grab for attention. I don't think it's founded in much, but it seems like the baby will add stress to my situation, and me coming out will do the same to my dad. But I'm convincing myself that it's a time of "new beginnings" or something. My other brother is going off to college, and while I'm stressing about sending him an email before he goes away, I might just have to roll with it. I have letters written for my paternal aunts and uncles, my college-age brother, and I need to tear through the rest.
Growing up, I saw my dad as some sort of encyclopedia. I used to ask him everything, and he usually had the answer. Sometimes it seems like he knows almost everyone in the city through some avenue. While he was driving me home from lunch last weekend, we were coming up on a small music venue that's down the street from my house. Out of nowhere, he says "Up on the left is [the venue] - the owner and I were on the same track and field team. I remember one time when he beaned this guy for messing with him during a race. I thought to myself, 'this guy is going places.'" When I was growing up, I had always wanted to see the place, especially since I was always too young to get into 21+ shows. The story reminded me of the fact that my dad was once both skinny and a runner - images he doesn't exactly inspire people to see in him now.
My mom was a huge jock growing up, and my parents were both big on volleyball when I was really young. My brother got most of the tall, skinny, sporty genes, and I got the short, Irish, busted everything genes. While I fit the family bill when I was in elementary school, after puberty, everything settled in uncomfortably and I started resembling a potato with long blond hair. I grew out of it somewhat, and once I started eating vegetarian (and finally vegan), I was much healthier and happier by the time I was 18 or so.
In the last few years, I've learned that biking is one of the best things in the universe. When I have a solid, comfortable enough bike available, I ride it everywhere. When my little fleet is screwed up for various reasons, it's extremely frustrating, though I do my best to ride as much as possible. I love the feeling of freedom, the simplicity, and the fact that it costs fairly little to maintain. Unfortunately - I got into a fairly bikeless rut for some time after an accident involving a reverend's minivan. That coupled with a legendary winter sent me into potatoville again. Now that I have hormones and surgery on the horizon, my health is my top priority. Even though I hate dealing with meathead gym employees and gendered locker rooms, I've decided to exercise as much as possible, but at least once a day during the work week. I was able to get a membership at the gym a few blocks from my house. So far so good - maybe when I have a little more testosterone in my system, I can make weightlifting a higher priority. For now, it's running and generally heart-healthy exercise. I guess if I can finally pull this off, I can do something as small as having a conversation with the family.
My dad and stepmom just had a baby. Another boy - which makes three of us in that part of the family. R drove me to visit everyone in the hospital, and we ended up having a fun, if awkward time. No "this is my girlfriend"s, just "have you met R?" introductions with some of my aunts and my stepmom's family. They eventually forced me to hold the new baby, even though I was terrified I'd drop him or something. For some reason, he was calm and sleepy with everyone else, and only started doing wiggly baby aerobics when I held him.
Part of me is really worried that coming out to my family is going to be seen as a grab for attention. I don't think it's founded in much, but it seems like the baby will add stress to my situation, and me coming out will do the same to my dad. But I'm convincing myself that it's a time of "new beginnings" or something. My other brother is going off to college, and while I'm stressing about sending him an email before he goes away, I might just have to roll with it. I have letters written for my paternal aunts and uncles, my college-age brother, and I need to tear through the rest.
Growing up, I saw my dad as some sort of encyclopedia. I used to ask him everything, and he usually had the answer. Sometimes it seems like he knows almost everyone in the city through some avenue. While he was driving me home from lunch last weekend, we were coming up on a small music venue that's down the street from my house. Out of nowhere, he says "Up on the left is [the venue] - the owner and I were on the same track and field team. I remember one time when he beaned this guy for messing with him during a race. I thought to myself, 'this guy is going places.'" When I was growing up, I had always wanted to see the place, especially since I was always too young to get into 21+ shows. The story reminded me of the fact that my dad was once both skinny and a runner - images he doesn't exactly inspire people to see in him now.
My mom was a huge jock growing up, and my parents were both big on volleyball when I was really young. My brother got most of the tall, skinny, sporty genes, and I got the short, Irish, busted everything genes. While I fit the family bill when I was in elementary school, after puberty, everything settled in uncomfortably and I started resembling a potato with long blond hair. I grew out of it somewhat, and once I started eating vegetarian (and finally vegan), I was much healthier and happier by the time I was 18 or so.
In the last few years, I've learned that biking is one of the best things in the universe. When I have a solid, comfortable enough bike available, I ride it everywhere. When my little fleet is screwed up for various reasons, it's extremely frustrating, though I do my best to ride as much as possible. I love the feeling of freedom, the simplicity, and the fact that it costs fairly little to maintain. Unfortunately - I got into a fairly bikeless rut for some time after an accident involving a reverend's minivan. That coupled with a legendary winter sent me into potatoville again. Now that I have hormones and surgery on the horizon, my health is my top priority. Even though I hate dealing with meathead gym employees and gendered locker rooms, I've decided to exercise as much as possible, but at least once a day during the work week. I was able to get a membership at the gym a few blocks from my house. So far so good - maybe when I have a little more testosterone in my system, I can make weightlifting a higher priority. For now, it's running and generally heart-healthy exercise. I guess if I can finally pull this off, I can do something as small as having a conversation with the family.
Wednesday, August 13, 2008
F-A-G-E-T-T-E
Camp Trans was amazing.
Our friends were picking R and I up at my house, so she met me an hour or so before we left. I checked my email, and found a response from my boss.
She said that she was worried at first that I was quitting, due to the mysterious long email. I had hoped that her response would be positive, and it ended up exceeding my expectations. She is "100% supportive", and has conveniently had a friend transition. The friend is a trans guy as well. So it's pretty much the perfect starting place. My boss even said that she's excited about all of this, and she had a meeting with everyone in the office on Monday to explain things to the rest of the employees. Everyone was apparently fine with it, and I was told in the email that if anyone ends up having a problem, "they can leave".
There's a possible staff "retreat" in the works (nothing cheesy, just something fun and short) - some safe space to talk about serious concerns and bring everyone together. While the idea of a staff retreat is kind of hilarious to me, it's a whole different ballgame when your boss is a radical agnostic(?) trans-friendly queermo who would be just fine with capitalism ending tomorrow. Aside from some accidental pronoun slip ups here and there (which I expected), everything is going perfectly.
Anyway, R and I finally met up with our ride, and met a new friend who filled our remaining seat. After a quick lunch, we set out on what ended up being a fairly short ride. For those who don't know, Camp Trans started as a protest against the Michigan Women's Music Festival's "womyn born womyn" policy. There's a lot of controversy surrounding the policy, and lots of internet arguments for different sides. I personally think that the policy is unnecessary and transphobic. Lots of info is available on the Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camp_Trans
There has been a lot of work done to combat the policy, and this year, transwomen from Camp Trans were admitted into the Fest. They voluntarily outed themselves at the gate to contest the WBW policy, that has been changing in the past few years. When asked if their trans status would be an issue with getting a ticket, the gate staff replied "No, why would it be?"
My favorite part about Camp Trans was the feeling of being in a giant family. Everyone said hello to each other as they passed, conversations with random strangers felt comfortable and warm. My friends and I conveniently camped next to some of the most hilarious and rad kids in the known universe. I learned that Sailor Jerry spiced rum and A&W rootbeer are perfect for stargazing. One of the things I miss most in the city are the stars. In the middle of nowhere, you can see the milky way, dozens of shooting stars, and tiny satellites. In the city, the night sky is barf sherbet - purple, pink and orange all together. We found a natural clearing with winding anthills and strange beige ants. I got to show R how to find Polaris, the north star. I learned that "tired" is the best possible way of indicating you are over something, as in "that's a tired old scene" said in the faggiest voice available. I really wanted to keep all of my clothes smelling like campfire as long as possible, but I ended up washing them. Now I can't tell if I intentionally burned this bag of microwave popcorn or not.
Also, if you haven't heard of Athens Boys Choir: http://www.athensboyschoir.com/
Harvey Katz is the fucking bomb. #1 dude crush forever. ABC played at Camp Trans, and I got to be in a scavenger hunt with Harvey. Gotta love backwoods bonding with fagalicious mens.
Being back was kind of an out-of-body experience. Everyone at work seemed to be magically using different pronouns. It wasn't strange in a bad way, but after feeling like some undercover tranny spy for so long, I'm sure I'll be getting used to this for a while. Today, my boss had a friend come in for some temp work, and we bonded over Against Me! and the World/Inferno Friendship Society. Being out around guys in the not-just-my-friends "real" world is really strange. Part of me is itching to start more of a physical transition so I don't feel like so much of a weirdo, and part of me hates feeling that way in the first place. With women I can be dudely, with dudes I don't feel dudely enough. At least I don't feel like I have to physically transition to fit in, but it's a strange world of new dynamics and confusing bullshit.
But then again - one of the day's end, random songs on the radio during my first day back? Dude Looks Like A Lady. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.
Our friends were picking R and I up at my house, so she met me an hour or so before we left. I checked my email, and found a response from my boss.
She said that she was worried at first that I was quitting, due to the mysterious long email. I had hoped that her response would be positive, and it ended up exceeding my expectations. She is "100% supportive", and has conveniently had a friend transition. The friend is a trans guy as well. So it's pretty much the perfect starting place. My boss even said that she's excited about all of this, and she had a meeting with everyone in the office on Monday to explain things to the rest of the employees. Everyone was apparently fine with it, and I was told in the email that if anyone ends up having a problem, "they can leave".
There's a possible staff "retreat" in the works (nothing cheesy, just something fun and short) - some safe space to talk about serious concerns and bring everyone together. While the idea of a staff retreat is kind of hilarious to me, it's a whole different ballgame when your boss is a radical agnostic(?) trans-friendly queermo who would be just fine with capitalism ending tomorrow. Aside from some accidental pronoun slip ups here and there (which I expected), everything is going perfectly.
Anyway, R and I finally met up with our ride, and met a new friend who filled our remaining seat. After a quick lunch, we set out on what ended up being a fairly short ride. For those who don't know, Camp Trans started as a protest against the Michigan Women's Music Festival's "womyn born womyn" policy. There's a lot of controversy surrounding the policy, and lots of internet arguments for different sides. I personally think that the policy is unnecessary and transphobic. Lots of info is available on the Wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Camp_Trans
There has been a lot of work done to combat the policy, and this year, transwomen from Camp Trans were admitted into the Fest. They voluntarily outed themselves at the gate to contest the WBW policy, that has been changing in the past few years. When asked if their trans status would be an issue with getting a ticket, the gate staff replied "No, why would it be?"
My favorite part about Camp Trans was the feeling of being in a giant family. Everyone said hello to each other as they passed, conversations with random strangers felt comfortable and warm. My friends and I conveniently camped next to some of the most hilarious and rad kids in the known universe. I learned that Sailor Jerry spiced rum and A&W rootbeer are perfect for stargazing. One of the things I miss most in the city are the stars. In the middle of nowhere, you can see the milky way, dozens of shooting stars, and tiny satellites. In the city, the night sky is barf sherbet - purple, pink and orange all together. We found a natural clearing with winding anthills and strange beige ants. I got to show R how to find Polaris, the north star. I learned that "tired" is the best possible way of indicating you are over something, as in "that's a tired old scene" said in the faggiest voice available. I really wanted to keep all of my clothes smelling like campfire as long as possible, but I ended up washing them. Now I can't tell if I intentionally burned this bag of microwave popcorn or not.
Also, if you haven't heard of Athens Boys Choir: http://www.athensboyschoir.com/
Harvey Katz is the fucking bomb. #1 dude crush forever. ABC played at Camp Trans, and I got to be in a scavenger hunt with Harvey. Gotta love backwoods bonding with fagalicious mens.
Being back was kind of an out-of-body experience. Everyone at work seemed to be magically using different pronouns. It wasn't strange in a bad way, but after feeling like some undercover tranny spy for so long, I'm sure I'll be getting used to this for a while. Today, my boss had a friend come in for some temp work, and we bonded over Against Me! and the World/Inferno Friendship Society. Being out around guys in the not-just-my-friends "real" world is really strange. Part of me is itching to start more of a physical transition so I don't feel like so much of a weirdo, and part of me hates feeling that way in the first place. With women I can be dudely, with dudes I don't feel dudely enough. At least I don't feel like I have to physically transition to fit in, but it's a strange world of new dynamics and confusing bullshit.
But then again - one of the day's end, random songs on the radio during my first day back? Dude Looks Like A Lady. I couldn't make this shit up if I tried.
Thursday, August 7, 2008
Dude looks like a lady.
Last night, I wrote a fairly concise coming out email to my boss. I'm on my way to Camp Trans with my friends today, and I figured the extra vacation time would give my boss space to process everything. I found it almost too easy to write the email and send it. Now I know why - it's much harder to open up Gmail and see what she said. Keeping with the spirit of this blog, here's my email:
"R,
This email will eventually have a point, but please bear with me. I'm enjoying work - even though we all do similar things every day, it's nice to work at an office where the people are fun and easy to deal with. I think everything is progressing even more as of late. Unless I go insane or become physically incapable to do the job, I'll be around as long as I can/y'all will let me. Hooray. In that same vein, if anything goes horribly wrong while I'm gone - I'll have my phone to check messages, although it'll likely be off most of the time to save batteries.
Anyway. To get to the point - I'm not in therapy because of my mom. I'm trans. Specifically a trans dude/guy/man/whaaatever. Have been for a long time - free therapy is just a convenient bonus. I'm out to all of my friends, but obviously not at work, and not to my family. So hey, now I am. While I didn't want this letter/email to be a long time in the works, all areas of my life have fallen into the right place. And now (cue ominous movie music), it's time.
I decided to send this right as I was leaving on vacation, to give you time to process it and decide how you'd like to deal with the new information in the office. I'm not super great at having these kinds of conversations face-to-face, either. I'm not really worried that anything bad will happen (hopefully), but it seemed like a good way to handle it. I'm totally fine with you telling anyone related to [work] if you'd like to. I'm also okay with talking to people if need be. I'm going to be sending similar letters/emails to my family after I come back from vacation. So there's no real issue there after Septemberish, and it's not as if my dad really stops by the office and asks about any new pronouns or anything.
Once that's taken care of, I'm going to start hormones. Also, the reason I was absolutely ecstatic about my dad randomly giving me tons of money is that I'm going to use it to pay for top surgery. This will all hopefully be happening as soon as possible. I'm not 100% sure about the all ins and outs of name and gender changes yet (meaning, I know how to change a State ID but not how that compares to changing Payroll information). So until everything is taken care of, using my legal name for special legal things will just have to be an annoying reality. Kinda par for the course when dude (still) looks like a lady.
All of my friends call me Artie - short for Arthur, long for Art. All of these names are fine, but I prefer Artie. Male pronouns as well, please. Occasional slip-ups (from anyone in the office) will be taken in stride. As long as people are trying, I will be happy. I know this isn't a typical office issue, and I hope everyone will be respectful and mature about it. I guess if there's a major problem, I can work for [one of our suppliers] in Canada, land of liberal majesty and acceptance. But I'd prefer to avoid it if possible.
I'll be leaving around 10:30am tomorrow, so if you could send me a quick email (so I know you've read this), that would be great. If you're not in until later, like I said - my phone will be available for messages. Also, my preferred personal email is arthurkosz@gmail.com.
-A"
My boss is way into Aerosmith, which explains the joke. Last I checked, she's cool with transpeople and may have some trans friends. I was able to word the email a little more liberally because of this - with my less knowledgeable family, I plan on getting into a lot of different detail. I've written a draft to my teenage brother like this, and once it's finalized, it'll be up here too.
Maybe I'll open Gmail once the lady friend gets here. It's funny how daunting this is, even though it's probably not going to be a big deal. I guess everything is harder when it's still unknown.
Well - I'm off to enjoy Hart, MI. Back to the vacation homeland, even though I'll be far away from my family's favored spot. Funny when things come full circle like that.
"R,
This email will eventually have a point, but please bear with me. I'm enjoying work - even though we all do similar things every day, it's nice to work at an office where the people are fun and easy to deal with. I think everything is progressing even more as of late. Unless I go insane or become physically incapable to do the job, I'll be around as long as I can/y'all will let me. Hooray. In that same vein, if anything goes horribly wrong while I'm gone - I'll have my phone to check messages, although it'll likely be off most of the time to save batteries.
Anyway. To get to the point - I'm not in therapy because of my mom. I'm trans. Specifically a trans dude/guy/man/whaaatever. Have been for a long time - free therapy is just a convenient bonus. I'm out to all of my friends, but obviously not at work, and not to my family. So hey, now I am. While I didn't want this letter/email to be a long time in the works, all areas of my life have fallen into the right place. And now (cue ominous movie music), it's time.
I decided to send this right as I was leaving on vacation, to give you time to process it and decide how you'd like to deal with the new information in the office. I'm not super great at having these kinds of conversations face-to-face, either. I'm not really worried that anything bad will happen (hopefully), but it seemed like a good way to handle it. I'm totally fine with you telling anyone related to [work] if you'd like to. I'm also okay with talking to people if need be. I'm going to be sending similar letters/emails to my family after I come back from vacation. So there's no real issue there after Septemberish, and it's not as if my dad really stops by the office and asks about any new pronouns or anything.
Once that's taken care of, I'm going to start hormones. Also, the reason I was absolutely ecstatic about my dad randomly giving me tons of money is that I'm going to use it to pay for top surgery. This will all hopefully be happening as soon as possible. I'm not 100% sure about the all ins and outs of name and gender changes yet (meaning, I know how to change a State ID but not how that compares to changing Payroll information). So until everything is taken care of, using my legal name for special legal things will just have to be an annoying reality. Kinda par for the course when dude (still) looks like a lady.
All of my friends call me Artie - short for Arthur, long for Art. All of these names are fine, but I prefer Artie. Male pronouns as well, please. Occasional slip-ups (from anyone in the office) will be taken in stride. As long as people are trying, I will be happy. I know this isn't a typical office issue, and I hope everyone will be respectful and mature about it. I guess if there's a major problem, I can work for [one of our suppliers] in Canada, land of liberal majesty and acceptance. But I'd prefer to avoid it if possible.
I'll be leaving around 10:30am tomorrow, so if you could send me a quick email (so I know you've read this), that would be great. If you're not in until later, like I said - my phone will be available for messages. Also, my preferred personal email is arthurkosz@gmail.com.
-A"
My boss is way into Aerosmith, which explains the joke. Last I checked, she's cool with transpeople and may have some trans friends. I was able to word the email a little more liberally because of this - with my less knowledgeable family, I plan on getting into a lot of different detail. I've written a draft to my teenage brother like this, and once it's finalized, it'll be up here too.
Maybe I'll open Gmail once the lady friend gets here. It's funny how daunting this is, even though it's probably not going to be a big deal. I guess everything is harder when it's still unknown.
Well - I'm off to enjoy Hart, MI. Back to the vacation homeland, even though I'll be far away from my family's favored spot. Funny when things come full circle like that.
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Mod.
Last night, I got my septum pierced by Scott Jania at Progressive Piercing. The place doesn't really look like much - it's one room in the corner of The Alley, which is this expensive punk megastore at Belmont and Clark in Chicago. The piercing room is now surrounded by jewelry cases, and there are a few signs in the window advertising the piercing shop. Scott's face is also on billboards and benches all over the city, with the tagline "Get pierced, not screwed".
Both of the piercers are masters of their craft, and they are surprisingly easy to talk to. Every time I've been there for more than a few minutes, I've learned something new. This time, I got a primer on septum piercings dating back to 1990, when only two places in Chicago would consider doing one - for the hefty price of $100. Mine cost around $50 total, and that includes the hypoallergenic titanium retainer and piercing fee. The stories and information were free, of course. I learned that most shops will pierce septums far too low, and the technique leaves something to be desired. Mine is level on both the vertical and horizontal planes of my face, which is wonderful, since I hate crooked facial piercings. I recommend Progressive to everyone. All of the other "professional" piercers I've gone to can't hold a candle to these guys.
One of the reasons I love tattoos and piercings so much is that they're both relatively affordable body modification. If done well, they can be long-lasting and beautiful changes. While I do plan on starting testosterone and getting top surgery done soon, they're definitely not accessible to a lot of people. I'm not saying everyone can afford a $50 hole in their nose, either. But for me, it feels good to have that kind of control over my body, my appearance, and the way I present myself to the world.
As I've slowly started getting tattoos in more visible places, supposedly "dooming myself" in the business world, I've realized how little of an impact it makes on my life. My boss asked me for tattoo advice, and my coworker wants me to do some sketches for her next design. Everyone at my office is queer and (I think) trans friendly. So I don't think I'm doomed just yet. I'm still planning all my coming out letter writing for this month and next month. Camp Trans is coming up in early August, and it's looking like I might be able to make it. Hopefully everything will be out in the open before the Fall. I'm still in therapy, but I'm cutting it down to twice a month instead of once each week. Everything seems to be going according to plan, and it feels great. Now I have a little stubborn Taurus-y septum piercing to celebrate. Not that I'm an astrology nerd, or anything. But it seems to fit just fine.
Both of the piercers are masters of their craft, and they are surprisingly easy to talk to. Every time I've been there for more than a few minutes, I've learned something new. This time, I got a primer on septum piercings dating back to 1990, when only two places in Chicago would consider doing one - for the hefty price of $100. Mine cost around $50 total, and that includes the hypoallergenic titanium retainer and piercing fee. The stories and information were free, of course. I learned that most shops will pierce septums far too low, and the technique leaves something to be desired. Mine is level on both the vertical and horizontal planes of my face, which is wonderful, since I hate crooked facial piercings. I recommend Progressive to everyone. All of the other "professional" piercers I've gone to can't hold a candle to these guys.
One of the reasons I love tattoos and piercings so much is that they're both relatively affordable body modification. If done well, they can be long-lasting and beautiful changes. While I do plan on starting testosterone and getting top surgery done soon, they're definitely not accessible to a lot of people. I'm not saying everyone can afford a $50 hole in their nose, either. But for me, it feels good to have that kind of control over my body, my appearance, and the way I present myself to the world.
As I've slowly started getting tattoos in more visible places, supposedly "dooming myself" in the business world, I've realized how little of an impact it makes on my life. My boss asked me for tattoo advice, and my coworker wants me to do some sketches for her next design. Everyone at my office is queer and (I think) trans friendly. So I don't think I'm doomed just yet. I'm still planning all my coming out letter writing for this month and next month. Camp Trans is coming up in early August, and it's looking like I might be able to make it. Hopefully everything will be out in the open before the Fall. I'm still in therapy, but I'm cutting it down to twice a month instead of once each week. Everything seems to be going according to plan, and it feels great. Now I have a little stubborn Taurus-y septum piercing to celebrate. Not that I'm an astrology nerd, or anything. But it seems to fit just fine.
Wednesday, June 25, 2008
The Sworn Virgins of Albania.
By DAN BILEFSKY
KRUJE, Albania — Pashe Keqi recalled the day nearly 60 years ago when she decided to become a man. She chopped off her long black curls, traded in her dress for her father’s baggy trousers, armed herself with a hunting rifle and vowed to forsake marriage, children and sex.
For centuries, in the closed-off and conservative society of rural northern Albania, swapping genders was considered a practical solution for a family with a shortage of men. Her father was killed in a blood feud, and there was no male heir. By custom, Ms. Keqi, now 78, took a vow of lifetime virginity. She lived as a man, the new patriarch, with all the swagger and trappings of male authority — including the obligation to avenge her father’s death.
She says she would not do it today, now that sexual equality and modernity have come even to Albania, with Internet dating and MTV invading after the fall of the Berlin Wall. Girls here do not want to be boys anymore. With only Ms. Keqi and some 40 others remaining, the sworn virgin is dying off.
“Back then, it was better to be a man because before a woman and an animal were considered the same thing,” said Ms. Keqi, who has a bellowing baritone voice, sits with her legs open wide like a man and relishes downing shots of raki. “Now, Albanian women have equal rights with men, and are even more powerful. I think today it would be fun to be a woman.”
The tradition of the sworn virgin can be traced to the Kanun of Leke Dukagjini, a code of conduct passed on orally among the clans of northern Albania for more than 500 years. Under the Kanun, the role of a woman is severely circumscribed: take care of children and maintain the home. While a woman’s life is worth half that of a man, a virgin’s value is the same: 12 oxen.
The sworn virgin was born of social necessity in an agrarian region plagued by war and death. If the family patriarch died with no male heirs, unmarried women in the family could find themselves alone and powerless. By taking an oath of virginity, women could take on the role of men as head of the family, carry a weapon, own property and move freely.
They dressed like men and spent their lives in the company of other men, even though most kept their female given names. They were not ridiculed, but accepted in public life, even adulated. For some the choice was a way for a woman to assert her autonomy or to avoid an arranged marriage.
“Stripping off their sexuality by pledging to remain virgins was a way for these women in a male-dominated, segregated society to engage in public life,” said Linda Gusia, a professor of gender studies at the University of Pristina, in Kosovo. “It was about surviving in a world where men rule.”
Taking an oath to become a sworn virgin should not, sociologists say, be equated with homosexuality, long taboo in rural Albania. Nor do the women have sex-change operations.
Known in her household as the “pasha,” Ms. Keqi said she decided to become the man of the house at age 20 when her father was murdered. Her four brothers opposed the Communist government of Enver Hoxha, the ruler for 40 years until his death in 1985, and they were either imprisoned or killed. Becoming a man, she said, was the only way to support her mother, her four sisters-in-law and their five children.
Ms. Keqi lorded over her large family in her modest house in Tirana, where her nieces served her brandy while she barked out orders. She said living as a man had allowed her freedom denied other women. She worked construction jobs and prayed at the mosque with men. Even today, her nephews and nieces said, they would not dare marry without their “uncle’s” permission.
When she stepped outside the village, she enjoyed being taken for a man. “I was totally free as a man because no one knew I was a woman,” Ms. Keqi said. “I could go wherever I wanted to and no one would dare swear at me because I could beat them up. I was only with men. I don’t know how to do women’s talk. I am never scared.”
When she was recently hospitalized for surgery, the other woman in her room was horrified to be sharing close quarters with someone she assumed was
male.
Being the man of the house also made her responsible for avenging her father’s death, she said. When her father’s killer, by then 80, was released from prison five years ago, Ms. Keqi said, her 15-year-old nephew shot him dead. Then the man’s family took revenge and killed her nephew. “I always dreamed of avenging my father’s death,” she said. “Of course, I have regrets; my nephew was killed. But if you kill me, I have to kill you.”
In Albania, a majority Muslim country in the western Balkans, the Kanun is adhered to by Muslims and Christians. Albanian cultural historians said the adherence to medieval customs long discarded elsewhere was a byproduct of the country’s previous isolation. But they stressed that the traditional role of the Albanian woman was changing.
“The Albanian woman today is a sort of minister of economics, a minister of affection and a minister of interior who controls who does what,” said Ilir Yzeiri, who writes about Albanian folklore. “Today, women in Albania are behind everything.”
Some sworn virgins bemoan the changes. Diana Rakipi, 54, a security guard in the seaside city of Durres, in west Albania, who became a sworn virgin to take care of her nine sisters, said she looked back with nostalgia on the Hoxha era. During Communist times, she was a senior army officer, training women as combat soldiers. Now, she lamented, women do not know their place.
“Today women go out half naked to the disco,” said Ms. Rakipi, who wears a military beret. “I was always treated my whole life as a man, always with respect. I can’t clean, I can’t iron, I can’t cook. That is a woman’s work.”
But even in the remote mountains of Kruje, about 30 miles north of Tirana, residents say the Kanun’s influence on gender roles is disappearing. They said erosion of the traditional family, in which everyone once lived under the same roof, had altered women’s position in society.
“Women and men are now almost the same,” said Caca Fiqiri, whose aunt Qamile Stema, 88, is his village’s last sworn virgin. “We respect sworn virgins very much and consider them as men because of their great sacrifice. But there is no longer a stigma not to have a man of the house.”
Yet there is no doubt who wears the trousers in Ms. Stema’s one-room stone house in Barganesh, the family’s ancestral village. There, on a recent day, “Uncle” Qamile was surrounded by her clan, dressed in a qeleshe, the traditional white cap of an Albanian man. Pink flip-flops were her only concession to femininity.
After becoming a man at the age of 20, Ms. Stema said, she carried a gun. At wedding parties, she sat with the men. When she talked to women, she recalled, they recoiled in shyness.
She said becoming a sworn virgin was a necessity and a sacrifice. “I feel lonely sometime, all my sisters have died, and I live alone,” she said. “But I never wanted to marry. Some in my family tried to get me to change my clothes and wear dresses, but when they saw I had become a man, they left me alone.”
Ms. Stema said she would die a virgin. Had she married, she joked, it would have been to a traditional Albanian woman. “I guess you could say I was partly a woman and partly a man,” she said. “I liked my life as a man. I have no regrets.”
Photos by Johan Spanner for the New York Times
Link:
http://www.nytimes.com/2008/06/25/world/europe/25virgins.html?_r=1&hp&oref=slogin
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Informer.
As I was beginning to type out this entry, I was thinking about family. My uncle J's birthday was last week. My favorite cousin, E sent me an email a few days before saying she would be there, and I was just able to make it in time.
My dad's side of the family is very strange. My aunts and uncles are really uncomfortable with direct confrontation, and most of them are gossip fiends as a result. My grandfather is in real estate, and has systematically screwed over the majority of his eight adult children. My dad's story reminds me of some Macbeth-style drama redone for the 90's. Maybe I'll go into it more later.
Anyway, due to the aforementioned family drama, I was pretty estranged from my dad's family until I was around eighteen. There are a total of fourteen aunts and uncles and endless cousins - so it's not like I never saw any of them. But it was mostly on holidays or involving some sort of family transaction like babysitting. My fondest childhood memories are of our summer vacations to Coloma, Michigan, where almost everyone from that side of the family would rent cabins at a small resort for a few weeks. My "totally rad" cousin E made me my first mixtape, and I still remember a lot of the tracklist. You can't really go wrong with "Teenager in Love" "California Dreamin'" or Snow's "Informer", especially when your audience is 8.
Sometimes I wish I could have spent more time with my dad's family growing up. My uncles and aunts are (or have been) comedians, published writers, cartoonists, handymen, lawyers, paramedics, nurses, hairstylists, craftswomen, local government bigwigs, mothers, and fathers. What a huge amount of knowledge and life to learn from. My cousins are all getting older and larger. Some of them are maturing pretty fast, and I wonder what they'll be like when they're adults.
Sitting at the birthday dinner, I started looking at the faces of my aunts and uncles and wondering what they'll think of me when I come out to them as trans. I told my cousin E at Christmas that I had a girlfriend, and she is still baffled that everyone else in the family is really quiet about it. I have never formally come out to my dad as anything because I never had a name for it. I told my mom that I was into women in high school, but allowing someone to assume you're a lesbian when you feel male deep down doesn't really make anything better.
E was talking pretty loudly about my partner R at the birthday dinner, and while I love her for trying to push me a little to be more open, I felt like I was being dragged out of my personal comfort zone and "outing" timeline. I plan on telling my family about my partner when I come out to them as trans, but not before. A couple of them actually acknowledge my relationship, and I guarantee the rest know a few things about my personal life. But I think it'll be nice to address everything openly all at once - hey my identity is like this, hey my girlfriend is rad. After that, I don't care what they think. At least they'll have the right information.
While I was beginning to type this, R asked me on gmail chat if I know J and K so and so. They ended up being the uncle and aunt I started this entry about. Apparently they are clients of a gallery R's gallery works with. Hilarious.
My dad's side of the family is very strange. My aunts and uncles are really uncomfortable with direct confrontation, and most of them are gossip fiends as a result. My grandfather is in real estate, and has systematically screwed over the majority of his eight adult children. My dad's story reminds me of some Macbeth-style drama redone for the 90's. Maybe I'll go into it more later.
Anyway, due to the aforementioned family drama, I was pretty estranged from my dad's family until I was around eighteen. There are a total of fourteen aunts and uncles and endless cousins - so it's not like I never saw any of them. But it was mostly on holidays or involving some sort of family transaction like babysitting. My fondest childhood memories are of our summer vacations to Coloma, Michigan, where almost everyone from that side of the family would rent cabins at a small resort for a few weeks. My "totally rad" cousin E made me my first mixtape, and I still remember a lot of the tracklist. You can't really go wrong with "Teenager in Love" "California Dreamin'" or Snow's "Informer", especially when your audience is 8.
Sometimes I wish I could have spent more time with my dad's family growing up. My uncles and aunts are (or have been) comedians, published writers, cartoonists, handymen, lawyers, paramedics, nurses, hairstylists, craftswomen, local government bigwigs, mothers, and fathers. What a huge amount of knowledge and life to learn from. My cousins are all getting older and larger. Some of them are maturing pretty fast, and I wonder what they'll be like when they're adults.
Sitting at the birthday dinner, I started looking at the faces of my aunts and uncles and wondering what they'll think of me when I come out to them as trans. I told my cousin E at Christmas that I had a girlfriend, and she is still baffled that everyone else in the family is really quiet about it. I have never formally come out to my dad as anything because I never had a name for it. I told my mom that I was into women in high school, but allowing someone to assume you're a lesbian when you feel male deep down doesn't really make anything better.
E was talking pretty loudly about my partner R at the birthday dinner, and while I love her for trying to push me a little to be more open, I felt like I was being dragged out of my personal comfort zone and "outing" timeline. I plan on telling my family about my partner when I come out to them as trans, but not before. A couple of them actually acknowledge my relationship, and I guarantee the rest know a few things about my personal life. But I think it'll be nice to address everything openly all at once - hey my identity is like this, hey my girlfriend is rad. After that, I don't care what they think. At least they'll have the right information.
While I was beginning to type this, R asked me on gmail chat if I know J and K so and so. They ended up being the uncle and aunt I started this entry about. Apparently they are clients of a gallery R's gallery works with. Hilarious.
Monday, May 19, 2008
Easy/Lucky/Free
At one of my recent therapy sessions - I found out something amazing. Apparently, the three month time period for therapy before starting hormones (that I thought was legally mandated) is just a recommendation. I'm sure some therapists won't write letters before that time period is up, but others will happily do it as long as you're set on hormones and surgery.
Initially, I was really resentful of feeling forced into therapy. I think it's beneficial to talk to someone before any life-changing event or decision, and it's great to get some feedback on how to transition more smoothly. I'm still planning on going regularly, since my experience has been overwhelmingly positive. It's just great knowing it's a choice, and not forced upon me.
My partner and I are planning on going to Camp Trans this summer, hopefully with a giant caravan full of friends. http://www.camp-trans.org/
I've decided that I'm going to come out to my parents, other family and boss right after the trip. The whole event sounds really validating and uplifting, and it'll be great to get that kind of steeling boost right before having a bunch of difficult, complicated (and potentially painful) conversations with people.
Right now, I feel very lucky to have a partner who loves me for who I am. R has been supportive and helpful through all of this. If anything, I'm the one who has to be prodded a little bit in order to open up about gender stuff sometimes. I am also lucky to have friends across the board who are open to these things and are occasionally trans or otherwise gender variant themselves. And I've probably said this before, but my boss is 100% cool with it. Now I just have to get up the nerve to put it on the table.
The one strange thing I've noticed is more openness and dialogue happening with friends who are outside the queer or trans scenes. Maybe it's not the same old thing when it's off your radar to begin with. Most of my friends have already had conversations about transness in various forms (or their own internal dialogue). The only big downside to this is that it stops being a topic for discussion, since everything has supposedly been said. I've probably been guilty of this in the past, especially with people who are more acquaintances than friends. But I've been trying to let people know that I'm happy to have those conversations about them (or about me), if they're looking to talk.
Initially, I was really resentful of feeling forced into therapy. I think it's beneficial to talk to someone before any life-changing event or decision, and it's great to get some feedback on how to transition more smoothly. I'm still planning on going regularly, since my experience has been overwhelmingly positive. It's just great knowing it's a choice, and not forced upon me.
My partner and I are planning on going to Camp Trans this summer, hopefully with a giant caravan full of friends. http://www.camp-trans.org/
I've decided that I'm going to come out to my parents, other family and boss right after the trip. The whole event sounds really validating and uplifting, and it'll be great to get that kind of steeling boost right before having a bunch of difficult, complicated (and potentially painful) conversations with people.
Right now, I feel very lucky to have a partner who loves me for who I am. R has been supportive and helpful through all of this. If anything, I'm the one who has to be prodded a little bit in order to open up about gender stuff sometimes. I am also lucky to have friends across the board who are open to these things and are occasionally trans or otherwise gender variant themselves. And I've probably said this before, but my boss is 100% cool with it. Now I just have to get up the nerve to put it on the table.
The one strange thing I've noticed is more openness and dialogue happening with friends who are outside the queer or trans scenes. Maybe it's not the same old thing when it's off your radar to begin with. Most of my friends have already had conversations about transness in various forms (or their own internal dialogue). The only big downside to this is that it stops being a topic for discussion, since everything has supposedly been said. I've probably been guilty of this in the past, especially with people who are more acquaintances than friends. But I've been trying to let people know that I'm happy to have those conversations about them (or about me), if they're looking to talk.
Monday, April 28, 2008
Therapy.
I finally made the decision to start seeing a therapist. I had my first session on April 15th, my second on the 24th, and my most recent on the 29th.
I've thought about therapy for a while as my point of no return. It's a lot of money, and it's the first step for any sort of physical transition. Because I've yet to come out to my parents or at work, I decided that toward the end of therapy (before I start taking hormones) would be the time to do it. That way, I'll have rational, objective support and advice during the process.
I'm lucky enough to have the means to pay for a therapist. it's $90 a session, and I've started going weekly. To start hormones (in Illinois at least), you have to see a therapist regularly for three months. Twelve regular sessions, I guess. To have any surgery, it's a year.
I've been to a few meetings with a Chicago-based group for masculine-identified female-born people. There are new topics available for discussion during each meeting. Recently my therapist "L" (who created the group) and her partner (who is an out transman activist) were the guest speakers at one of the meetings. They spoke about their relationships and issues that have come up in the past. L also spoke at a trans caucus at one of the GLBT spaces in Chicago. At both events, I loved what she had to say. I decided that I really wanted to see her as my therapist, and that I would find the money somehow if I had to.
While I don't like the fact that you have to see a therapist to prove that you're trans and not "crazy" or whatever, I don't think it's a terrible thing to have to talk to someone before you change a bunch of things about your body. A lot of dangerous and unhealthy cosmetic surgeries are done without any concern for the person's mental or emotional state. I've heard different opinions on it, and I don't want to go into a long rant or anything. But that said, it's a strange situation to be in.
So far, I think it's going well. I'm able to talk about some things in my personal life, as well as more general topics (like gendered socialization and inter-family relationships). I've been nervous just about every time. It's hard for me to just blab on and on about my personal life, especially with an older stranger that basically holds my future in her hands. But it's relaxing to be seeing someone who cares about these issues, who has actual experience and relevant feedback. I even thanked her for taking me on as a client...which is maybe a weirdo move, but I felt good about it.
As I was trying to post this, Lola by the Kinks started playing on the radio. Rad.
I've thought about therapy for a while as my point of no return. It's a lot of money, and it's the first step for any sort of physical transition. Because I've yet to come out to my parents or at work, I decided that toward the end of therapy (before I start taking hormones) would be the time to do it. That way, I'll have rational, objective support and advice during the process.
I'm lucky enough to have the means to pay for a therapist. it's $90 a session, and I've started going weekly. To start hormones (in Illinois at least), you have to see a therapist regularly for three months. Twelve regular sessions, I guess. To have any surgery, it's a year.
I've been to a few meetings with a Chicago-based group for masculine-identified female-born people. There are new topics available for discussion during each meeting. Recently my therapist "L" (who created the group) and her partner (who is an out transman activist) were the guest speakers at one of the meetings. They spoke about their relationships and issues that have come up in the past. L also spoke at a trans caucus at one of the GLBT spaces in Chicago. At both events, I loved what she had to say. I decided that I really wanted to see her as my therapist, and that I would find the money somehow if I had to.
While I don't like the fact that you have to see a therapist to prove that you're trans and not "crazy" or whatever, I don't think it's a terrible thing to have to talk to someone before you change a bunch of things about your body. A lot of dangerous and unhealthy cosmetic surgeries are done without any concern for the person's mental or emotional state. I've heard different opinions on it, and I don't want to go into a long rant or anything. But that said, it's a strange situation to be in.
So far, I think it's going well. I'm able to talk about some things in my personal life, as well as more general topics (like gendered socialization and inter-family relationships). I've been nervous just about every time. It's hard for me to just blab on and on about my personal life, especially with an older stranger that basically holds my future in her hands. But it's relaxing to be seeing someone who cares about these issues, who has actual experience and relevant feedback. I even thanked her for taking me on as a client...which is maybe a weirdo move, but I felt good about it.
As I was trying to post this, Lola by the Kinks started playing on the radio. Rad.
Tuesday, February 12, 2008
CWHC
Today, I had my first gynecological exam at the Chicago Women's Health Center. My partner R. gave the staff rave reviews, and I was long past due.
The last time I went to the doctor, I had the flu. It didn't go away for about a week, and my dad took me in to make sure I wasn't dying of anything. My current doctor's office is in the suburbs – we found it through a family friend who works there. The place kind of sets me on edge, though up until recently I haven't had any major problems with the doctors. My regular physician is female and very easy to talk to. However, when I went in with the flu, things were different.
I was stuck with a drop in doctor, since I hadn't made much of an appointment and my regular doctor was out that day. Of course I was told to drink lots of liquids and get lots of rest. One more small mark on my insurance history for the same expensive advice. The drop in doctor saw my tattoos and asked if any were recently done. I said yes, but I only go to extremely clean tattoo shops. He brushed this off and said that he wouldn't want to let me go without testing for hepatitis anyway – just in case.
I doubted highly that any of the clean, professional tattoo artists and shops I go to gave me hepatitis. But I figured a blood test would legitimize my several hours of time wasted at this office. Time I should have been chugging liquids and resting. I asked the drop in doctor if I could be tested for any STIs as well, if they were going to be taking blood anyway. The response I got was awful. “Why? What are you worried about?” “Nothing, I just figured it would be a good idea.” “Do you think you have anything?” “No, but I thought I would be responsible and get tested regularly, since I'm sexually active.” “Do you practice safe sex?” “Yes...but unless you're abstinent, you can still catch certain things...?” “Well...I guess we could do it.”
I think I could feel the self confidence evaporating out my ears. I wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was, and why he thinks preventative care is such bullshit. Why being responsible and considerate are somehow wrong. I doubt this guy was a celibate virgin. I doubt he had the most sparkling record. But for me, with the capital F on my record, asking such a sexually loaded question - I was dirty, slutty, and up to no good. And the message I got was that I should start fucking feeling that way, like a good woman. And this was my doctor, if only for the day. Not some asshole gym teacher subbing for health class, or a priest, or my strict grandmother. And christ – even one of my grandmothers probably would have told this guy to fuck off.
I got my test results back a few weeks after that. In the letter, following my good news, was a note from the drop in doctor. In big bold letters, he added: “BE CAREFUL.” I haven't been back since.
Today I walked up a tall white marble staircase, into an office with cheesy wood paneling. Just like my office at work. I was greeted warmly, and handed a clipboard and some forms to fill out. The waiting room is as inviting as it can be, with comfortable lighting, chairs, and lots of relevant and interesting literature. I got there early, so I had plenty of time to fill out the forms without rushing. I got to a section that I see pretty rarely, if ever, anywhere. The Gender section. There was a spot for transgendered that I happily checked off. I wrote in a side note that I generally go by Artie and use male pronouns. I flipped through a big book of hand-written reviews of the CWHC, some of which were years old. All the ones I read were positive. Some talked about being nervous for their first time, but loving it anyway. Some talked about their visits over several years, and how their children are going to the CWHC now. Most thanked the Center for existing. It was pretty overwhelming, and beautiful.
When the health worker called me in, she used my preferred name and introduced herself as A. She reminded me immediately of my friend S., and continued to do so throughout the entire visit. She even had the same voice, and a slightly chipper version of S's humor. Amazing. She asked if the CWHC could contact me for some information on how to make the Center more comfortable for FTMs. I agreed, saying I was happy to help.
I had my blood pressure taken, a pap smear, a general “business” inspection, a chest exam, and blood drawn. I would have had a cholesterol test done, but I you have to fast for 8 hours beforehand. I got some great comments about my tattoos, which strangely made things less awkward. The space heater, plastic speculum, and crocheted stirrups on the exam table were all-out class too. But there's just something about hearing someone's half sleeve tattoo plans while they're checking for breast tissue lumps that speeds everything up.
I paid the high end on the sliding scale price – it was $35 - $115. I could afford $115, so I paid it. I was happy to pay full price for such a positive experience. No “BE CAREFUL”s or rude questions. I learned some important things, and I felt taken care of the entire time. Even if it's the Chicago Women's Health Center, I rarely felt out of place, and I don't think I once felt unwelcome, judged or uncomfortable (beyond “geez, I'm naked from the waist down in front of a stranger”). I'm happy to go back, and I feel like I'm doing something positive for my body. I would highly recommend the CWHC to other FTMs, as well as anyone else who they offer services to. Bonus sweet Snoopy sports bandages, if you were wondering.
The last time I went to the doctor, I had the flu. It didn't go away for about a week, and my dad took me in to make sure I wasn't dying of anything. My current doctor's office is in the suburbs – we found it through a family friend who works there. The place kind of sets me on edge, though up until recently I haven't had any major problems with the doctors. My regular physician is female and very easy to talk to. However, when I went in with the flu, things were different.
I was stuck with a drop in doctor, since I hadn't made much of an appointment and my regular doctor was out that day. Of course I was told to drink lots of liquids and get lots of rest. One more small mark on my insurance history for the same expensive advice. The drop in doctor saw my tattoos and asked if any were recently done. I said yes, but I only go to extremely clean tattoo shops. He brushed this off and said that he wouldn't want to let me go without testing for hepatitis anyway – just in case.
I doubted highly that any of the clean, professional tattoo artists and shops I go to gave me hepatitis. But I figured a blood test would legitimize my several hours of time wasted at this office. Time I should have been chugging liquids and resting. I asked the drop in doctor if I could be tested for any STIs as well, if they were going to be taking blood anyway. The response I got was awful. “Why? What are you worried about?” “Nothing, I just figured it would be a good idea.” “Do you think you have anything?” “No, but I thought I would be responsible and get tested regularly, since I'm sexually active.” “Do you practice safe sex?” “Yes...but unless you're abstinent, you can still catch certain things...?” “Well...I guess we could do it.”
I think I could feel the self confidence evaporating out my ears. I wanted to ask him who the fuck he thought he was, and why he thinks preventative care is such bullshit. Why being responsible and considerate are somehow wrong. I doubt this guy was a celibate virgin. I doubt he had the most sparkling record. But for me, with the capital F on my record, asking such a sexually loaded question - I was dirty, slutty, and up to no good. And the message I got was that I should start fucking feeling that way, like a good woman. And this was my doctor, if only for the day. Not some asshole gym teacher subbing for health class, or a priest, or my strict grandmother. And christ – even one of my grandmothers probably would have told this guy to fuck off.
I got my test results back a few weeks after that. In the letter, following my good news, was a note from the drop in doctor. In big bold letters, he added: “BE CAREFUL.” I haven't been back since.
Today I walked up a tall white marble staircase, into an office with cheesy wood paneling. Just like my office at work. I was greeted warmly, and handed a clipboard and some forms to fill out. The waiting room is as inviting as it can be, with comfortable lighting, chairs, and lots of relevant and interesting literature. I got there early, so I had plenty of time to fill out the forms without rushing. I got to a section that I see pretty rarely, if ever, anywhere. The Gender section. There was a spot for transgendered that I happily checked off. I wrote in a side note that I generally go by Artie and use male pronouns. I flipped through a big book of hand-written reviews of the CWHC, some of which were years old. All the ones I read were positive. Some talked about being nervous for their first time, but loving it anyway. Some talked about their visits over several years, and how their children are going to the CWHC now. Most thanked the Center for existing. It was pretty overwhelming, and beautiful.
When the health worker called me in, she used my preferred name and introduced herself as A. She reminded me immediately of my friend S., and continued to do so throughout the entire visit. She even had the same voice, and a slightly chipper version of S's humor. Amazing. She asked if the CWHC could contact me for some information on how to make the Center more comfortable for FTMs. I agreed, saying I was happy to help.
I had my blood pressure taken, a pap smear, a general “business” inspection, a chest exam, and blood drawn. I would have had a cholesterol test done, but I you have to fast for 8 hours beforehand. I got some great comments about my tattoos, which strangely made things less awkward. The space heater, plastic speculum, and crocheted stirrups on the exam table were all-out class too. But there's just something about hearing someone's half sleeve tattoo plans while they're checking for breast tissue lumps that speeds everything up.
I paid the high end on the sliding scale price – it was $35 - $115. I could afford $115, so I paid it. I was happy to pay full price for such a positive experience. No “BE CAREFUL”s or rude questions. I learned some important things, and I felt taken care of the entire time. Even if it's the Chicago Women's Health Center, I rarely felt out of place, and I don't think I once felt unwelcome, judged or uncomfortable (beyond “geez, I'm naked from the waist down in front of a stranger”). I'm happy to go back, and I feel like I'm doing something positive for my body. I would highly recommend the CWHC to other FTMs, as well as anyone else who they offer services to. Bonus sweet Snoopy sports bandages, if you were wondering.
Wednesday, February 6, 2008
February 6, 2008
It's a little over a month into the the new year, the year I will transition from "female" to male. This blog will be my documentation of the whole process. By definition, I guess I'm technically transgendered and transsexual. To simplify things, I use "trans" in conversation, and that will carry over here.
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From Wikipedia:
So far, I am out to all of my friends, but not to my family or my boss. I have a supportive and understanding partner. I have yet to start any counseling, but I plan to start as soon as possible. Ideally I would at least like to be on hormones and out to my family/boss by the end of this year.
If I use any unfamiliar vocabulary while writing, comment and I'm happy to clarify anything. This should not end up being a day to day blog - mostly I'll be using it for new important stuff or past stories. Hopefully this can someday add to the small pile of information out there.
---------
From Wikipedia:
"Transgender is the state of one's "gender identity" (self-identification as male, female, both or neither) not matching one's "assigned gender" (identification by others as male or female based on physical/genetic sex). "Transgender" does not imply any specific form of sexual orientation; transgender people may identify as heterosexual, homosexual, bisexual, pansexual, polysexual or asexual. The precise definition for transgender remains in flux, but includes:
- "Of, relating to, or designating a person whose identity does not conform unambiguously to conventional notions of male or female gender, but combines or moves between these."[1]
- "People who were assigned a gender, usually at birth and based on their genitals, but who feel that this is a false or incomplete description of themselves."[2]
- "Non-identification with, or non-presentation as, the gender one was assigned at birth."[3]
So far, I am out to all of my friends, but not to my family or my boss. I have a supportive and understanding partner. I have yet to start any counseling, but I plan to start as soon as possible. Ideally I would at least like to be on hormones and out to my family/boss by the end of this year.
If I use any unfamiliar vocabulary while writing, comment and I'm happy to clarify anything. This should not end up being a day to day blog - mostly I'll be using it for new important stuff or past stories. Hopefully this can someday add to the small pile of information out there.
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