So, it was this day last year that I made the decision to start living full time as male. I’ve pulled this from the first post on my blog:
“This is Day 1. Ground zero.
Today’s the official start of my transitioning process.
Some day, I won’t be the only person who sees me as a man. Some day the whole goddamn world will without a second guess. And it’s only a matter of time.
Joaquin Jack, the rootin’-est tootin’-est outlaw in the Wild West.”
A lot of things have changed since that day. The most recent change? I’m now officially a working stiff. Yep, that volunteer gig I’ve been talking about since April? They finally offered me a full time, paid job with benefits. My medical insurance starts in September, and I can start the process of medical transition this year.
Social transition started a long time ago. Most people I know call me Tommy, even in the workplace. Most of those people call me by male pronouns, except for family and people in the workplace. I don’t know how I’m going to navigate that when I start looking and sounding more male, but I have a very cool and understanding supervisor who is used to dealing with people in unusual personal situations, so I’d be surprised if she treats me unfairly.
Funnily enough, my attitude towards pronouns has gotten a lot more lax lately, mainly because I’m just so tired of seeing people struggle with it. I’ve even had a few people who have been trying their damnedest break down and cry over it, even when I wasn’t pressing the issue. I can tell with these people, they genuinely want to say the right things around me and it really gets to them when they don’t, and it’s gotten to the point where I frankly don’t give a shit anymore. I mean, it’s awesome when I get sirred in public, but there’s nothing I can do right now about the fact that I look, sound and smell female, and asking people to do mental acrobatics around it is a little unreasonable until I’ve been on T for a while.
That’s not to say that I let people walk all over me, though. Recently a few friends and I were hanging out, and I was telling this story from back when I was still doing the whole “chick” thing, and one of my brodudes said, “Hey, FYI, you’re still a chick.”
I punched him in the face.
It was kind of awesome. His head slammed the wall behind him and he came up dizzy and checking if all his teeth were there.
He got the picture. We were cool from then on.
What else has changed since last year? Hm…
– My car works again, feels good to have independence.
– I’ve finally gotten back into the habit of showering and brushing my teeth every day- I care about my body now that it might actually belong to me one day.
– I’ve been eating less junk food and soda and crap and staying active, and I’ve gained some muscle and lost 23 pounds worth of spare fat.
– I’m on my way to quitting smoking (which I’ve never really mentioned on here because I don’t want to make any of my former smoker transbros start jonesing, but I feel it’s worth bringing up at least on my manniversary.)
– I finally got together the balls to cut my hair last year, feels awesome not to have an extra blanket of heat coating my neck and back in the summer.
– I’ve become an expert at using an STP at public urinals, and have broken the fear of using the men’s room.
– I’ve come out to my dad and we even talk about it at lengths these days, and he (sort of) accepts me as his son, off and on. It’s all I can ask for at this point.
– Have been wearing a real binder, not an improvised one that could distort my ribs, for probably about 9 months now. Of course I’ve been binding off and on for a long time, and every single day for a year now, but using one regularly that doesn’t hurt my back has done wonders for my self-esteem and general health.
– Since having them compressed every day, I’ve lost at least a cup size. I used to be a full C, and now I’m kind of a saggy B. Not as attractive with my shirt off, but much easier to bind, and sometimes I can even wear a baggy shirt without being self-conscious.
– I’ve pumped off and on all year, and let’s just say my microcock is a lot easier to see these days.
– A lot of other smaller things that I don’t feel like recounting.
The only negative thing is that I’ve become a lot less comfortable with sex these days. Since being with someone who doesn’t neccessarily find my trans situation attractive and kinda made me feel like shit about myself in several ways, and becoming more and more wary that any guy I’m with will want to do me in the manhole, I’ve lost my sex drive almost entirely. This has led to even more anxiety about it, since, as a general rule, “males have a bigger sex drive”, and since last year, mine has only shrunk. Of course, it’s all a performance anxiety and self-consciousness issue. But it’s kind of positive that I’m less desparately, widly depressed about how small my dick is and more generally just not interested in sex right now. I’m sure when I find the right person, all that anxiety about my genitals will go away, and having my sex drive boosted by T won’t be as soul-crushing.
Anyway, my manniversary celebration turned out to be a lot less exciting than I originally planned, but then, I originally planned to be taking my first T shot right about now. I’ve basically only had my best friend over today and we’ve surfed the internet all day and listened to music. That’s it. It just seemed superfluous to make a big deal out of “Hey, I decided something this day last year!” I’ll probably go buy a cake or something when I actually get on T.
I think the biggest point of all this is, I held my own Real Life Test, just to know for sure, for my own purposes, that this was what I wanted to do, that not only could I handle the societal pressures of being male, but the problems that come with living as one gender when the world percieves you as another.
It went far better than expected.
I’ve been living with genuine peace of mind in myself for a year, despite the storm raging all around. I’ve come to know who I really am, and that person wasn’t as cool as I originally thought he would be, but I’ve settled with being a big dork, and I’m happy with that. I haven’t been experiencing any delusions or hallucinations, the dissociation has ceased, my emotional turmoil has settled considerably, and since having a cool and sane head, I can see that a lot of the world wasn’t as big and scary and dramatic and bad as I thought it was. I’ve developed a sense of responsibility to myself and others now that I have a cemented sense of identity and I don’t feel like a visitor to this world operating an expendable avatar. I’m comfortable with myself and my friends tell me that I seem happier. There’s no more being constantly on edge for fear that my own mind will revolt and I’ll have to account for yet another day lost to someone I don’t know. I’ve gotten used to what it’s like to be the only person in here, and it’s surprisingly simple, even if at first it was a little claustrophobic. I feel much more real, I feel connected to the consequences of my actions, I feel in control. I feel… normal.
That was something I never expected.