One year
/I’ve been on hormones for one year now; I took my first dose of spironolactone on May 27, 2021, and started on estradiol a little less than three months later.
A little while back, I asked people for blog post topics and one of my friends suggested I write something about what’s changed for me since I started transition. To really be able to fully answer that I have to think long and hard about how things were beforehand, and it isn’t easy for me to relive that time; part of it is because I was clearly unhappy, even before I figured out it gender was a big part of it, but that sadness also feels a little too distant to really connect to anymore.
It’s a little hard to look at pictures from before transition. This isn’t unusual for trans people; sometimes they even have trouble looking at images of themselves from early on in their transitions. I didn’t exactly shy away from the camera beforehand, but I remember not liking a picture unless my facial expression had a bit of stoicism to it, and the clothes I wore were either costumes to be acceptable in a workplace or minimal effort outfits to blend in and not call attention to myself. I see a bit of the sadness, but I also see how much I was trying to hide as much of myself as I could, lest everyone saw just how weird, soft, and awkward I really was and thus could no longer be taken seriously.
The clarity of hindsight lets me recognize things about myself that I didn’t realize earlier. I think that’s true of a lot of life; things make more sense when you see where it fits within a greater context than when you’re in the middle of experiencing them. I did have some interest in girls, but looking back a lot of it felt like it was a desire to be normal (or at least seen that way) combined with craving the same platonic bonds women have between each other.
I don’t like overly pat narratives because they flatten out the nuances of life and force things into clearer binaries. Yes, I’m happier than I used to be, but at the same time I do still take medication for depression and anxiety (which also plays a part in my mental health). There are things I still don’t like about myself (my voice). Sometimes I am a little self-conscious about the remnants of hair on my face (not to mention the body hair), or whether I wear the same clothes too often.
What strikes me the most is how much more I like seeing myself in the mirror since transitioning. I also take a lot of selfies, and every month since I began hormones, I take one to track the gradual changes. My face has softened, and laser has taken away a noticeable amount of facial hair. I still don’t like seeing my scalp hair, so I usually make sure I get rid of it every day I go out in public. I also get a thrill from seeing my breasts, small as they may be.
There’s still more I need to figure out about what would cause maximum gender euphoria. I got my ears and left nostril pierced last summer; I am considering more. I also have been wanting for a while to get at least one tattoo. I’m slowly building up a wardrobe and playing around with makeup, even if it’s not as much as I want to. I might buy wigs, more for the option of changing my look up for different occasions than anything (I fucking love being bald, and I think bald women in general are beautiful).
This may be getting into “TMI” territory, but I’ve also started thinking a lot more about sex than I have in a long time. When I first started the hormones, my libido went down (as expected), but it’s starting to come back again. Maybe it’s also being a bit touch-starved during the pandemic compounding things, but I feel desire for the sensation of touching another (consenting) human being and exploring their body. I also have a stronger desire toward women than I ever had before. I certainly see no problem with this making me even gayer than I’ve ever been. I’m not particularly fond of dating, though (too lazy and rejection-sensitive), and still feel weird about casual hookups, so that does tend to complicate things.
I wonder if my state of relaxation regarding discussing who I am edges into carelessness, especially since the Right is aggressively going after trans rights (and bodily autonomy in general) around the world. The world has become considerably more scary for trans people in the time since I started connecting the dots with my own gender. In the United States, where laws are being passed in the individual states prohibiting trans care (or even affirmation) for minors; the politicians behind them don’t care that the latest research clearly shows transition and acceptance saves lives. Honestly, I think they’re happy when a trans kid is bullied or takes their own life. That’s a rant for another post.
I still post selfies because trans joy needs to be celebrated. A lot of people say I’m brave for coming out and being who I am. It was more of a situation where once I figured what was wrong, I needed to fix it. It was growing more unbearable to continue with the combination of hormones that had been coursing through my body since puberty, and feeling less right by the day. Going back into the closet is not an option because I finally feel like I’m connecting to people better; instead of trying to play a role and always worrying about whether the disguise (which grows more uncomfortable every day) is starting to slip, transitioning and being open to the world as myself makes me feel like I finally can live the life I want.
I never really believed in my own autonomy or agency for a long time, and transition has definitely helped me with that. It also made me realize how important these things are to me.
The author: May 27, 2021 (left) vs May 27, 2022 (right)
