A journey to San Francisco to become no less than Me. (BLOG REBOOT: Former site of Hairy Legs.)

Archive for February, 2010

Celtic Faire.

I’m going back to volunteer again this year at the community Celtic Faire (kinda like Renaissance Faire, only celebrating  Celtic tradition.)  It’s another sort of geeky paradise, yet another thing I’ve always gone to that falls into the category of  “an excuse to dress up as a man.”  Particularly, I’ve always kind of gone as this bizarre scallywag-type character, not precisely pirate, not precisely knight.  It’s fun, because last year I volunteered there (which basically amounts to pitching your tent on the fairgrounds for four days, doing anything and everything you’re told, and getting to take part in the after-parties which run into all hours of the morning.)  I was working through an injury last year, which meant I never really got to work hard enough to earn the elusive and honored “workhorse” title, but I DID earn a Faire name, basically making me part of the family.

I became known as the Bearded Lady.

Back at that point, I actually thought it was all well and good and fun and games, but I’m not so sure how comfortable I am with it this year.  I’ll probably wear that name with pride as long as I keep coming back to participate in Faire culture, but it’s funny how things that seemed harmless a year ago have developed a knee-jerk reaction of seeming offensive.  I don’t know, it seems easier with this group to just let them believe I’m a tomboy.  I’m not sure how accepting they would really be of my being trans.  Still, Celtic Faire has always been one of those spaces in my life where I was happily known as a boy, at least to the people who visit, if not to the people who run it.

I’m wondering if they’ll even remember me this year, since I’ve gotten my hair cut and changed a few other things about myself, including the way I dress.  I’m thinking I should just go by Tommy and hope they don’t remember who I am, play along, and if they do, just shrug it off and say it’s the nickname my friends have for me lately since I am such a tomboy…

I’m going to the volunteer meeting in 2 hours.  Play it by ear, that’s my motto.

(Also, I’m considering making a kilt for myself this year.  I have a week and a half- wish me luck?)

Sex.

So, to put it bluntly, I’m having a problem I didn’t think I’d have.  Not only am I having issues with my given unit whilst in bed, but I’m having trouble letting myself be on bottom, period.  I don’t really want to go into all the gory details because I’m sure I’d manage to offend someone out there, but let’s just say that this has led to a lot of heartache and tears for both parties.  I can’t enjoy being in bed anymore unless I’m on top, which basically means I haven’t had sex in a week, because my partner and I are clashing on who gets to dominate.

I never thought I’d be that person who would let those sorts of problems get to me so much that I’d start having feelings of worthlessness and depression, panic, general inferiority and anxiety about it all.  It got bad.  I started tapping out whenever we’d start to do something- down there- and recently I nearly threw up, immediately after which I lost consciousness on my floor next to trash bin.  I spent so long trying to accommodate him and let him know that he wasn’t losing the person who could once upon a time be anything and everything for him, but I pushed it too far, WAAY past the point of being comfortable, to where it seriously started screwing with my mind.  I haven’t felt such a disjunction between my identity and what I was trying to be in a long time.  There’s a lot more going on in my sex life than I care to continue going on about, so let’s just say it’s not going well.  I feel like I’m coming apart at the edges again.

Anyway, I’m starting to feel less lenient on the subject of of bottom surgery.  Last night, I dreamt that I went to a prison, and was told that if I was everybody’s love slave, then I could eventually grow my own penis.  It was horrific, and symbolic in ways that I don’t really care to point out.  I really think that I should pursue bottom surgery if I want these disturbances to stop.

Transmen Haiku

A haiku about my perspective on the beginning of transition-

We are all young boys

Fighting for our puberties

Held back as children.

~

I’ve been feeling more like that lately than ever.  It seems like my childhood was stolen from me, and we have to fight the whole world, at every step, tooth and nail for our rights to have that experience.  But when we’re going through it, we’re gaining back our boyhoods, day by day, at an age that’s way too late, along with having to deal with the responsibilities of being adult.  At best, I’d say it’s a unique perspective through which to see life.

(I’d like to point out that I don’t mean this to be offensive- I don’t view a state of femininity as a childlike state in any way!  I just feel denied the hormones that I should have gotten around the age of 13.)

My voice just cracked.

I’d like to do a really short update and let you all know that I’ve been on a voice exercise regimen that I basically created for myself from the Rent soundtrack (cheesy, I know).  It’s about an hour of singing and stretching my vocal chords down as far as I can (I’d really like to try and create a guide eventually, because it goes in a rather specific way with warmups and so forth, and it’s quite fun).

I’ve been at it for a few weeks, and when I started I really couldn’t sing any lower than the tenor parts (I’ve been trained as a soprano my whole life, so that’s a hard habit to break.)  But just this morning, a few weeks later, I started off basically singing the bass parts with little difficulty, which was sort of an instant snap.

I think my voice cracked.

This is incredibly positive for me, because my voice was part of the major trinity of things that I’m sure will secure my ability to be read as male in a social setting,  (which, if you’re curious, was voice, proper binding, and facial hair), and one of two things I was fairly certain that I couldn’t get without hormones.  What this does for me, by proxy, is ensure my future fertility- I’ll explain this.

I’d really like to be able to preserve my eggs before I get on testosterone, as I’ve said before.  This really puts a kink in my schedule to get on testosterone, because I doubt I’ll be able to afford it any time soon.  Now, don’t get me wrong- I plan on getting on testosterone eventually, 100% no doubt about it, if for no other reason than to feel right INTERNALLY, even if it had no effect on my exterior.  BUT, if I can achieve those three checkpoints into being read as male without having to go on testosterone, it will make waiting to get on testosterone infinitely more bearable, and I probably won’t turn around one day and say, “You know what?  FUCK my future kids, I just want my T!”

Achieving the second point of the trinity, with facial hair possibly on its way, will definitely make my life easier.

Minoxidil log #4: day 22.

To address the issues of the last post:

The patches cleared up and nothing even remotely like it has returned since, leading me to believe that they might not have even been related to the application of the minoxidil.  Of course, they could have been, especially since they only vanished after an incidental 2 day hiatus from application (I wound up at a friend’s house without it for a couple days- my life tends to be completely unplanned these days.)

The 2-day hiatus seemed to do the trick for pretty much everything unpleasant about minoxidil; when I started reapplying it, I barely had any itchiness, absolutely no redness and somehow my face just seemed more generally acclimated to it.  Maybe the 2 days gave my body time to assimilate the benefits and build a resistance to it without another onslaught of it to keep it from progressing?
IN SHORT:  The trick to this, it seems, is to know when your body is telling you to take a break, stop for a day or two, and THEN resume.  Piece of cake.

The biggest points of importance in this post, however, are the signs that it may indeed be working.  For one, I’m already getting babyhairs in the application areas of my eyebrows- ones that are dark.  My eyebrows are subtlely looking more male all the time.

Finally, last but not least, I’m developing blonde peach fuzz in my sideburn and jaw areas- two places that, at the beginning of this treatment, were as bare as a baby’s bottom.  It’s nothing that’s even noticeable unless you knew the difference between an unnoticeable peach fuzz (which most girls have anyway) and barenaked nothingness.  But the fact that I’m getting anything at 3 weeks in, when, typically, these results should happen at 12 weeks, is telling me that this treatment is extremely effective on me and I should definitely keep at it.

I’ll post with any other updates.

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