So, I occasionally get asked “What is it like to be transgender?”. I don’t think I can fully answer that question because I don’t know what it is like to not be transgender. I don’t know what it is like to not want to be a girl. I don’t think I even understand what it is to be a man. I do think I know what it is like for a girl to try to be a man, but not really be a man.
The hallmark, and worst part, of being transgender is what is called – Gender Dysphoria. This is the name given to the feeling of distress one gets from your brain not agreeing with the gender you were born in.
Before beginning medical transition I was never happy with what I saw in the mirror and avoided looking into it. Now two years later, with the hormone replacement well under way and doing its job along with facial hair removal, I love who I see looking back at me and can spend considerable time just looking at myself.
People call me brave and say they are inspired by my courage. I occasionally sit in room full of people, especially if they are strangers, and wonder myself where I get the courage to even be there. Then it dawned on me that if this was a choice or act or fetish or whatever I couldn’t do it. Most of the time I don’t even think about it unless I’m getting lots of stares or funny looks. It isn’t courageous, it’s just normal to me.
Before starting hormone replacement, and being testosterone based, my world was black and white. I really only seemed to feel anger and fear. Once the testosterone was partially blocked and estrogen was introduced I began to have a much larger range of emotions. This was disconcerting at first and kind of scary because it was all new. After a while I became used to it and it feels normal. A few weeks ago we introduced progesterone and switched to a much stronger testosterone blocker. After a few days I began to have an intense new emotion that is quite pleasurable. I can finally feel what most of you, I believe, would call joy. The range and intensity of emotion has continued to increase, and my life finally has color.
I can choose to look at all of this in two ways. I can be angry and bitter that I lived for so long feeling trapped and uncomfortable. I can also look it as a blessing. To know what I know, to feel what I feel and to see what I see is a rare and beautiful thing. I choose the high road. I choose to see the remarkable gift I have been given.