When Amanda picked me up, I was nervous. They reminded me to breathe, and helped get the nurses’ attention when we needed to check in since apparently the office was closed for lunch (and “No Knocking on the Window!” Despite the FedEx guy doing just that.) They held my hand in the examination room, took notes, and exchanged glances with me when the doctor told me I should get in contact with transgender groups. (Wouldn’t you like to know!) They can attest to the anxiety I felt before coming in for my Jan 22nd appointment when I received my first prescription for estrogen and spiro. And I can tell you, the words I have used since to describe how it feels to finally take estrogen are warmth and serenity.
First, before I continue I want to say some things, hormones are not the thing that defines gender. It’s not the thing that makes people trans, and it’s not any measure of how really trans you are or any sort of medical gate keeping to “true” transness. These are choices that people make and understand to be more true to themselves than how they are prior. People have the right to live and express gender however they want. There are no rights or wrongs. The same as when I finally came out as bi, now queer (the less binary-y label,) I am doing what I know to be how I have felt all my life, though haven’t always been able to understand its full extent.
With that in mind, since being off testosterone for three months and starting estrogen I have never felt more at peace with myself. I am able to tackle honest yet tough conversations, be more compassionate and confident, and recognize my feelings in a direct way. Now, it has been tough coming out and having those difficult conversations. Not everything’s a dream, but my ability to recover and shed stress is just something that testosterone and the increasing dysphoria of testosterone’s effects made more difficult. There is a strength and peace in my body that has been missing for a long time. (Although my endurance on a treadmill has fallen off just a smidge.)
This may sound blunt and personal, but believe me, I have had to have this discussion openly with people and over time, I naturally produce less testosterone than a cis woman does. It is something that I was told needed to be fixed and I internalized that “need”. I thought I would be less of a person without testosterone. I assumed I needed to take it because that’s what people need, right? They need a hormone to keep their body in shape. But half way through 2013 I found myself unemployed and uninsured, from that time on I went about two years without testosterone. I had never felt more calm in my life. I had never felt more able to dive deep into a well of patience than at that time. It was quite possibly the most calm and healing part of my 20s. I was really able to cry and explore my feelings about a great many things. Then I started my “nice” job.
I loved the job. I was excelling at it. I had a significant raise when my six-month review came up. I went in with focus and humility, and felt rewarded. Then, about a month after that, I went back on testosterone. I even told Amanda at the time, “I’m afraid of becoming the person I was.” I will never speak more prescient words. Plus the doctor gave me twice the dosage. My sex drive spiked, and I was hoping to build some muscle mass to protect appendages. I thought everything would get better, but no. I felt this unease still in my life and the feeling intensified with the increased sex drive. It seemed like I couldn’t escape the cycle of anxiety and pain. I grew angry and frustrated with others and with myself. My work suffered. I felt overwhelmed constantly. Like I could not, and I’m borrowing this from a Laura Jane Grace interview, compartmentalize anymore. Everything felt like too much, and the world bore down on me. Once I was terminated some of the anxiety dissipate. Along with that, stopping dating a manipulative ass, and other sources of stress starting to lift at that time, I could see myself more easily.
Now, I recognize myself more and more as I take estrogen, do gender affirming things, and open up to people. Living and acting on a truth is difficult, it is not something done lightly, but it certainly has been one of my most compassionate acts to myself. That is why I see it now as one of my greatest strengths. I see the warmth and serenity I felt when I started on estrogen as the power to defend myself. It has granted me a sense of agency that is immeasurable, and the people who cheer me on and support me are those who recognize that strength that has always been there. They are the ones who have seen me bawl and shake when I felt destitute and weak, and see me now, exploring and living and happy.
I am a leaf in the wind, wherever I fall is less significant than the breeze that carries me through.