I’m a year and four months on hormone therapy. A lot of the same issues that I’ve always had cropped up over the past year but in different ways: body image issues (including dysphoria and dysmorphia), anxiety/depression, and the stresses of transitioning. I haven’t come out to my family yet, for reasons I’ll explain below. As it stands, the people that know are the ones closest to me — not to mention that the coming out process has shown me who I believe is closest to me. Much of everything else in my life remains the same: I’m still in school, my partner and I’s relationship is great, etc. I’ve picked up martial arts as a way of exercise again, this time Brazilian jiu jitsu. But I still find myself in an in-between stage, a gestation stage, after my first attempt at social transition.
I have a friend who I imagine saying and believing awful things about me and my transition, usually in a matter-of-fact way. I don’t know why I imagine her as such a naysayer. The only time I’ve really disagreed with her on anything was regarding her dating life. For two examples, when she was hesitant about dating who is now her partner for life due to cultural differences (i.e., she was embarrassed to want to date her at first); and when, before she was with this partner, exploring whether she might like men again (she didn’t). In other words, nothing to do with me. There was also one time where she was confused about people requesting safe spaces, calling it unrealistic. I mention this because when I came out to her and her partner, she cried with happiness. The both of them knew something was going on, and for months speculated on what that might be (and if you’re trans, you probably know the guesses that people make).
After coming out to her, she really struggled with my new pronouns. I was really discouraged by this. And I wasn’t sure how much it helped when I realized that she usually got them wrong when we’d been drinking together. I think from seeing her struggle, I immediately became convinced that she simply wasn’t convinced of the reality of my gender, despite how she reacted when I came out to her.
“The true voyage is return.” — Ursula K. Le Guin
The shame, embarrassment, and doubt of being “unconvincing” — this speculation I had of her perception of me, wound up extending to every passing stranger. I had come out at school and tried to present more femme on Zoom class calls. But this festering doubt eventually won me over, and before I consciously realized it, I was back to dressing fairly neutral. (In other words, sweater-heavy).
I was fairly hopeful, if not convinced, that I would be ready to go full-time after a year on HRT. I think this happened from a combination of things: looking at other people’s timelines and assuming the same for myself; and not realizing that the timelines I was looking at belonged to people who began transitioning at a younger age than I did. My partner was on board with this schedule as well, and when I expressed doubt leading up to the one-year mark, it would upset her because she didn’t want me to live in the dark forever. So I would backtrack on my doubt.
Once one year hit, I was scared in a way I assume anyone would be. But somewhere along the way, the tether I had snapped. I wanted to retreat. I wanted to go back into the cocoon. The sense that no one was convinced of me, even to the point of annoyance, became all-pervading. Even now, if I try to go for a walk, these thoughts pester me so much that my whole body goes tense and I end up quickly drenched in sweat from the stress. I needed more time. I needed to go at my own pace and not someone else’s. But I was too ashamed.
This reaction I had to socially transitioning made me realize that I wasn’t ready to come out to my parents. I was afraid of their questions, their reactions. I knew if things got heated, I would shut up in shame and silence, unable to stand up for myself. But now, every so often, I imagine those conversations, and I somehow make my way through them. There will be confusion and disappointment, sure, but I’m too old for them to punish me. This doesn’t mean I’ll come out to them after hitting “Publish” on this, but I hope I’m moving in the right direction.
In therapy yesterday, I remembered how deliriously happy I was when I came out to myself. I was so happy that it scared me. I don’t know if I’d ever been that happy before. It was so intense that in the days afterward, when my partner and I went camping, I forgot nearly everything I was supposed to bring. I literally brought one shirt, because my mind was gloriously elsewhere. It made me think that it was possible for me to feel that way again. Every so often, I get tired of being in-between, and just want to be. I’ll get there.
