Post-op/Pre-op

There is alot made of these terms and they carry an awful lot of emotional and psychological baggage which is likely not entirely evident to someone who isn't going through this process. Thankfully I am now in the "post-op" camp and feel slightly more able to discuss, at least some, details at a highish level which is a great improvement over the time immediately before where the very idea of discussing things with all but my closest friends was abhorent.

I think I'd like to go through a list of "things that scared me" and hopefully this might give an idea of how someone approaching the same surgery might feel:

Stopping Hormones

All hormone treatment has top be stopped 6 weeks before surgery. As I understand it this is mainly for safetys sake as estrogen increases the risk of blood clots and I guess any medication in your system can potentially interfere with anesthetic or other drugs you may be given during or immediately after surgery.

You'd think that stopping taking pills or sticking patches on your body would in some way be a relief (I can't say I miss Spiro pills - they are huge) but the implication is that your hormone levels return to a point they were at before. This was a horrifying prospect for me as I it was so important to me to have the 'right' hormones in my system, it made me feel like "me" and I hated the thought of giving them up.

I'm not sure of the chemistry/biology involved but just stopping medication didn't actually have an immediate affect (apart from me not liking the thought of it), it did take a few days, possibly a week for me to start to feel any different. I know some people have said the increase in testosterone makes them feel irritable or angry, given my pre-HRT level was barely into the normal range I wasn't too worried about that and certainly it didn't seem to happen. I did feel quite frantic, and kind of paranoid. Also I really withdrew alot and found it harder to talk to people, kind of like a loss in confidence.

Also my sleeping pattern got completely wrecked; normally I'm fairly consistent with sleep and can easily feel when I'm too tired and go to bed early and get up early for work. I kept waking up and not being able to settle again, or if I slept through I didn't feel rested and was way more tired then I've ever felt. That and possibly other things really affected my concentration and my attention span. I remember one odd implication of that when I was trying to pick a film to watch and couldn't decide on anything, just nothing felt right and when I finally picked something I stopped watching it after a few mins and just couldn't settle on doing anything. All very weird and disconcerting.

Sexuality

I'm not sure how true this is but I read/was told that testosterone affects libido in both men and women so one of the things that actually did scare me is that suddenly I'd have an uncontrollable sex drive which I would find extremely distressing. I'm sure many people won't understand this or even find it quite funny, but it's not, it's something that makes you question who you are and made me feel very uncomfortable and upset.

Control

I've never had an operation with general anesthetic before, and the thought of being forced asleep did really upset me for quite a while. When attending the GIC and talking to my the specialist there he commented that I was a bit of a control freak (he is right) and I definitely saw being anesthetised as a huge lack of control. I was really worried about being allergic to the anesthetic to or having a reaction or not waking up, etc, etc.

As it turned out it didn't even hurt when they put the needle in and I just drifted off quite quickly and came round afterwards reasonably fast too. Several people, my Mum in particular, commented that they work out the amount of anesthesia so accurately these days and the whole process is so precise that there isn't much in the way of feeling groggy or half-asleep anymore.

Death

I've never had major surgery before so have no idea what to expect; so I started imagining the worst possible scenarios! I definitely worried that I wouldn't wake up afterwards or have something serious happen like a blood clot that affected my brain! My imagination did run riot for a while and there were times that I was very scared but strangely I didn't worry about this worst case as much as I thought I would. I think I was more concerned about surviving but having complications.

Complications

Knowing about certain potential complications just made me worry about them. Some aren't particularly serious in the grand scheme of things but they are things I just didn't want to go through. I had a few nightmare scenarios in my head and it's always easier to worry these will happen rather think about it rationally.

It's very easy from this side of the surgery to see that I was worrying about nothing and that's maybe how other people see it. But I really was very scared, worried, pre-occupied and apprehensive about the whole thing. The affect of stopping hormones was very definitely real and not pleasant at all (and my ability to write about all of this in a quite open and honest way is testament to the fact I'm back on hormones and this has started to level my thinking out, even if it's just psychological rather that phisiological at the moment).

As I was told before I left hospital, this is major surgery, it does take time to heal and recover and it is a big deal for many reasons. Anyone going through this is going through a major change in their life (for the better) and it isn't easy at all. And all of this is something very hard to explain to anyone else who isn't close to you, very few people have a frame of reference in which they can understand what you are going through.

The problem that I found was that the last thing I wanted to do was explain any of this to anyone. Talking about it before surgery meant to me that I would be labelled as "pre-op" and I absolutely hated the idea of anyone knowing that. This is again maybe something hard to understand if you've not gone through it but it just became a real concern of mine that my surgical status be kept absolutely private.

Now, I am much more relaxed about so many things, I commented to my partner just today that a whole load of my inhibitions have just disappear and, aside from the fact that I really need to get a load of exercise and tone up, I don't have any hang-ups about my body anymore. I might not be the most attractive person in the world, but I'm really me now and that is all that matters.

Snow Fair!

I love snow and I've been saying it would be great to have more so that everything feels all Christmassy and magical. Well, as they say, be careful what you wish for: York, like alot of the country, is now blessed with an over-abundance of snow and as well as the mayhem it's causing for everyone else it could also wreck my plans for the coming weekend which was meant to be one of the most important in my life.

I mentioned previously that I'd been talking more openly with my Dad and that there was a distinct possibility that we may meet up soon, well, that was (is?) this weekend! Both my parents were planning on coming over and also bringing my son for a visit also! I do get to see my son regularly but he's never stayed over at my house before so this weekend was going to be important and fun for that as well!

I haven't actually seen my Dad since June 2008 (fathers day in fact) and he has never laid eyes on me since I started my transition. It's going to be a bit of a shock to see what I look like now, compared to then, I have changed quite a bit! Also the last time I saw my Mum was over a year ago, when I moved to York, and I'm told by friends that my face has altered in that time as well.

I've been quite busy of the past few days so haven't had a chance to sit down and really think about how the visit would go. It has been on my mind though and I've gone through many scenarios in my head. It's also caused me to revisit feelings and experiences from my past and has almost transported me back to the last few times I saw may parents and how I felt then. That's quite disorientating as it reminds me of how I was before my transition and the way I looked and acted - both of which I have tried hard to forget.

My Dad has said that he is ready to meet me now, so it really is just a matter of timing and opportunities for this to happen. While I may pretend, even to myself, that I can deal with this and that it's something I shouldn't be too worried about, I know that the closer it gets to happening the more nervous and anxious I'll get. It is a huge deal and something that it going to be difficult for all concerned. That said, hopefully things will get easier after that and we can all start trying to rebuild some sort of normal family life.

Now, if only the weather would ease a little on Friday, and the roads clear ...

Choice

The catch-all come-back for any hardship I've had to endure as a result of transitioning is that it was my "choice". This has been thrown at me a few times, sometimes directly or maybe just implied in explanations of someone's upset, confusion, or recalcitrance at accepting my 'new' persona.

I usually give the pretty standard response about the facts of gender, sexuality, biology, chemistry, etc, the "science bit" as it where. Few people fully grasp or appreciate that approach, probably including me, as it's all very interesting, if ultimately quite complicated, but doesn't really get away from what happened in my life seeming like I took a choice. It's also very hard to convince someone that there is no aspect of free-will in it because there is nothing to compare it too; no-one has the frame of reference to deal with transition unless you go through it yourself (or are one of the few partners that stick it out when their other half flips).

So "your choice" gets applied to everything, and extended to the point of incredulity; what has followed has all been foreseeable and was part of the original "decision" that I made, every possible consequence was deemed to be included in my plan.

The reality is that I took a small degree of control in my life, I took a certain path based on what I knew, how I felt, and what seemed, to me at least to be the most sensible and practical thing to do. I put things off for a long long time and buried feelings (I'm *really* good at that now, what a wonderful skill to have) but eventually life had to change.

At no point did I have even an inkling of what really lay ahead, I just felt so strongly that I must proceed a certain way; we're talking beyond addiction or desire or something that one may be cured of or control, it's even getting past obsession and reaching the point where it's not fully understandable "why" but simply that by becoming what I was fixated on was the only way to have some peace. That seems rather dramatic and slightly exaggerated now but it's unimaginable to me to go back to how I was before; while I can't claim to be completely happy with me I certainly don't obsess in the same way with trying to achieve a result, rather about improving it instead.

I know there will be those people who will not accept the above; I will be the person who has chosen to break up families and destroy lives with my selfish choices, I deserve what I get. Dismissing the fact that I had previously been thought of as a kind, caring parent and partner makes it all the easier to condemn me; I obviously have no feelings any more so I deserve what I get. Really? Who actually made a choice about that?

???

I can't think of a title, there is too much whizzing around in my head that I could write about that I really don't know where to start. In fact I feel like I don't know where to start with anything at all. Today hasn't really helped either as I've just got nothing done and the things I've tried just have taken ages and not worked (sometimes computers are damn annoying).

I had a nice night out with a friend last night, lots of talking until the early hours of the morning, the upshot of which is that I didn't get home and into bed until 5am so I've felt pretty much wiped out all day. That said, I felt much the same on Friday given the split and just everything else in my head as well. I just feel drained and unmotivated.

I also feel fat, a mess, and totally unattractive. While the end of the relationship itself was upsetting the most scary thing is that I can't see me ever finding anyone else. I know that it's not the right time to start mad dating but I thought the idea of trying to come to terms with a split was that your friends can say "plenty more fish in the sea" and you should have some glimmer of hope that this is indeed the case. The fact is that the number of potential partners out there for me is pretty limited; really I have little to offer anyone except an awful lot of complications.

The above isn't me just being down, it's pretty much a fact. What also is a fact is that I do need some help with my confidence (that ability to overcome facts like that horrible one) as it's become clear than I really haven't got any at all. Staying with the theme of dating, I was discussing the whole thing about "pulling" people with the friend I saw last night. I have never been "out on the pull", I've never chatted someone up in a bar/club/anywhere, I just never could bring myself to try. I think the way all of my previous relationships started was by me being nice, chatty, mostly harmless and rambling quite alot. I did have a little bit of, misplaced, confidence then and more than enough naivety to compensate but now I have neither of these.

I think ... well, thinking is interrupted by watching "Up in the Air" ... hopefully give me a distraction or feel better.

The Marrog

I was thinking about a few things this morning and a line or two from a poem I remembered from childhood came to mind. The particular line was "and nobody, nobody knows" which is really where my thoughts had led me after a conversation with my Mum where it was stated that not a single person in my extended family knows about my transition.

Before I explain about the situation and eleborate on reality, here is the poem that I was thinking off, found after much searching of the internet and copied from here and available in The Random House Book of Poetry for Children:

My desk's at the back of the class
And nobody, nobody knows
I'm a Marrog from Mars
With a body of brass
And seventeen fingers and toes.

Wouldn't they shriek if they knew
I've three eyes at the back of my head
And my hair is bright purple
My nose is deep blue
And my teeth are half-yellow, half-red?

My five arms are silver and spiked
With knives on them sharper than spears.
I could go back right now, if I liked-
And return in a million light years.
I could gobble them all

For I am seven foot tall
And I'm breathing green flames from my ears.
Wouldn't they yell if they knew,
If they guessed a Marrog was here?
Ha ha they haven't a clue-
Or wouldn't they tremble with fear!

'Look, look, A Marrog'
They'd all scream - and SMACK
The blackboard would fall and the ceiling would crack
And the teacher would faint, I suppose.
But I grin to myself, sitting right at the back
And nobody, nobody knows

I think it sums up my feelings pretty accurately and I wonder if looking like the Marrog I'd actually be happier with my appearance! But the main thing is the line "And nobody, nobody knows"; the only family that do are my parents and my sister and of those only my Mum talks to me and tacitly acknowledges my transition.

I got a Christmas present from my sister yesterday, which was nice, addressed using my 'old' name, which wasn't so nice. It almost made me feel like the last couple of years haven't happened, as if they can somehow not have my transition be a reality by using my old name. My sister has seen me as me and should be well aware of my name change - if I hadn't told her directly my Mum certainly does know and would have passed that information on.

I can't see my last remaining grandparent, in fact haven't for probably over two years now. She is getting old and will likely go to her grave blissfully unaware of my transition and likely wondering why I haven't visited and whether I really care about her anymore, I do obviously. It seems now like my Dad has absolutely no intention of ever seeing me or even talking to me now.

Really, I might as well be the Marrog from Mars

Opinion or Ignorance

This has been covered by several blogs already but it was something I felt was pertinent to me and worth comment. There is on a post on Misha Safranski's blog concerning this topic: Should Transsexual People Teach in Public Schools? The poster is very much against this but does not seem to have documented any specific reasons except that she feels that exposing children to these issues isn't a good idea.

There is plenty of comments against this post (including one from me) and alot of to-ing and fro-ing of opinion as well as name-calling and general questioning of research, basis, reasons, etc. In short it has all the makings of a raging debate which achieves very little. I suspect that this is the blogger's aim on the whole.

What is concerning is that there are many people who would hold such discriminatory views. The reasons for such views essentially boil down to prejudice (either for some personal reason or because of upbringing, political or, most likely, religious beliefs*) or pure ignorance, though the latter usually has to be coupled with a degree of the former.

The term 'ignorant' is usually seen as a derogatory term and I believe in the comments the blogger's response was that she had read more about it and still held her view. I would maintain that reading about something can often still leave you as ignorant as you were before, even if you are reading unbiased literature.

In some ways I wish there was a magical way to make people like this experience what it is like to be trans, even if it is just for one day, so they can realise what it is like to be so unhappy with your own gender and everything that entails such as outward appearance, body, feelings, emotions, and your whole identity. I think only then would you have the right to give an opinion.

One very common misconception, which is mentioned or implied repeatedly on the comments on this post, is that transsexual people have a choice, that it's a lifestyle thing (the same opinion is applied to anyone who is homosexual). There is no choice. You are who and what you are are, no matter how much you try to fight it or attempt to conform to some ideal set by culture, or church or ignorant people. Trans people can spend a long time in denial before realising their true self and some may even die (either naturally or much worse, by suicide) without being able to transition.

A related misconception is that transness can be 'cured'. If you take hormones to become the gender you feel you are, the opposite hormones will make you 'normal' again. It simply doesn't work like that. Taking hormones will, hopefully, help your body change such that you feel happier with it, but no pill will make you a man or a woman, that is something that is built into your idea of self. And no, that doesn't make it a mental illness either with some possible treatment. Many trans people have gone through all sorts of things in search of a 'cure' and there simply isn't one, apart from being who and what you feel in you heart/soul/mind you are. That's the only way to be truly comfortable and happy.

Think of the Children

The recent stories of the young transgendered children have received a fair amount of coverage in the press and in the blogsphere so I won't go into a huge amount of depth on the details as they are so widely available (though I guess of dubious accuracy). There are a few points I would like to make from my own perspective.

First of all, while it's possible the schools concerned had little notice about these pupils, if the reports are true regarding how they handled things then they really do need to have a rapid re-think of their approach. You can't simply ban the other kids from being mean and nasty and hope that works, it simply won't - I was bullied at school (not directly trans-related in my case) and I doubt such directions would have stopped the imbeciles involved from picking on me.

Even worse such an approach sends the wrong message to those slightly more thoughtful and compassionate children (and parents) who would benefit from having a little more explanation and information so they can begin to understand and maybe even support what these kids are going through. The 'newspaper' (I use the term loosely) articles did nothing to redress the balance either, taking the sensationalist angle rather than doing some decent research and attempting to educate the masses in the ways of understanding and tolerance.

Which brings me to the supposed reactions from the parents of other children at the schools concerned. These seem to have been largely expressed as shock and the underlying concern that their own kids may make similar choices. As we all know transgenderism is extremely contagious and can be passed on to others so make sure you keep well away from these children in case you catch anything! Sound silly? I would bet the idea has crossed the minds of some of the parents.

If you can't consider the trauma that these children have gone through, and are going to have to deal with for the rest of their lives, and you can't appreciate their suffering and feelings as human beings then you're a pretty pathetic individual yourself. Just because you may think of someone as 'weird' or 'not normal' does not mean that aren't human and are devoid of feelings, quite the contrary, they probably have an over-abundance of the latter.

If derogatory labels are the best you can come up with then it's maybe you that has the problem not them. For once I would agree with the mantra "think of the children"; don't persecute people so young and certainly don't teach your own offspring such intolerance and bigotry.

Catching up

Just a quick post before I go to bed and hopefully the ones tomorrow will be a little more positive after a good nights sleep and some quiet reflection.

A lot has obviously happened over the past few weeks and months and I think, given everything, I've done remarkably well to stay unbelievably cheerful and positive and sooner or later everything was bound to get on top of me.

It is easy to fool others, and yourself, that everything is fine and there is nothing you need or are worrying about. But it's not easy to do that constantly, it eventually catches up with you and just needs something to push you over the metaphorical edge and things get too much.

I do have a few things lurking around in the back of my mind that I'm worried or confused about and have just not been facing up to. The thing that has added to my worries is the realisation the fact that today, after visiting my son (to give him his birthday presents), my parents would not be travelling the 2miles from his home to mine to pop in and see me.

I know it only sounds like a minor thing but imagine how you would feel if you were actually shunned by your closest family, the people who you thought would love and care about you no matter what.

I think I am probably too tired now to even consider my feelings, let alone describe them. I hope sleep will help bring some peace and order to my thoughts.

Blasphemy!

I heard this story on the radio while driving yesterday. I wasn't paying much attention to the the news, it was just background noise keeping me awake and mildly entertained. However, as soon as I heard a few bits about this I could feel my blood start to boil.

Essentially it seems that a photographer who liked, as he says, the "architecture" of this particular church took some "erotic" photos of women at the location and now there is some kind of moral outrage and calls of blasphemy which seem to have culminated in legal action.

First some technical points - I'm not sure what the rules are regarding pictures involving property, are the owners entitled to some royalty if the photographer profits as a direct result of the setting? Would this apply to church land? Does church land count as private property? I guess there could be some straight-forward business considerations here which is fine, if the church could legally make money by being used as a location in this way all well and good.

As for this being blasphemous or morally wrong I find that prudish at best and in actually fact quite offensive and repugnant! How dare they vilify erotic art by making a claim that it is in some way 'wrong' or should in any way disgrace those who were married in this church or have loved-ones buried there. Propagating such vile, repressive and, in my opinion, downright evil views is the cause of many problems in society today. What gives any organisation the right to sit in moral judgement over natural sexual acts? Yes, I know they seems a really silly question when clearly almost all of the repressive and puritanical legislation passed in the UK/US (and probably everywhere else in the world) is due to ridiculous religious interference in governments or pubic opinion!

These prudish views are insidious (and insipid in my opinion) and permeate through many aspects of culture and society and are hugely damaging. The news story got me thinking about myself and the fact that I'm not exactly the most worldly-wise person there is, and I don't recall a huge amount of positive influence when it came to erotica; it's still viewed by many as something that may cause offense at the very least or even worse something that should be hidden. And that is so wrong, such a message should be spread, quite the reverse should happen.

Religions should stop trying to dictate moral standards by persecuting people and condemning their actions. Instead they should try leading by example and being accepting, understanding and open. Clearly this is an impossibility however, certainly give the evidence of history so far.

Holding back the tears

I saw my son on Friday night (went to the cinema to see Ice Age 3 and then onto McDonalds as a treat for him swimming 70m earlier in the week - so proud of him), then for a few hours on Saturday morning after which he had a party to go to so the plan was for him to come over again today.

Yesterday evening B phoned and said my son wanted to speak to me, he came on the phone and said he wouldn't be coming over today. I asked him if he was tired because I didn't want him to feel that I was upset or put undue pressure on him. I said it was fine and that if he changed his mind he could come over anyway.

Seems he had been a little upset after seeing me and was a bit tearful. Some of it could just be tiredness, getting to the end of term, excitement at things he's going to be doing soon and simply the fact that his house and the friends round it are way more interesting than what I can offer him here, my flat is never going to come close in that respect.

There is another reason and that is that he was upset by me. B had already told me that he'd said to her that he preferred seeing me in less feminine clothes and appearance, for example he liked it when we did the cycling as I obviously had no make-up on and looked like I always did before when I use to take him to school or go out on the bikes.

Yesterday he said the same thing to me directly as well. He was also staring at my chest at one point, obviously trying to work out why it looked the way it does (was particularly noticeable given the top I was wearing). We also had a brief conversation about 'moobs' and 'boobs' - I said I had the latter, he said that the former were what boys got when they had muscles.

Overall he's obviously been doing some thinking about this and it is upsetting him. So because of all this I said it was fine, I didn't mind not seeing him. I said the same to my friends, that it wasn't unexpected, it wasn't anyone's fault (he'd definitely NOT been pushed into this by his Mum or affected by her, this was his decision) and I just resigned myself to the fact and didn't think it had greatly upset me, obviously disappointed but it's one of those things.

Got back this morning around 3am and sat and watched a bit of a film while I had supper, it got to a sad bit and my eyes started to fill with tears, so I turned the film of, but I still kept crying and sobbing and it was obvious it wasn't about what I was watching. I thought I'd done so well keeping my feelings under control but clearly it couldn't last forever and I must have just snapped all the emotion came flooding out. Looking back I think I was dwelling on my son all night, thinking about him in the back of my mind.

So it seems my son isn't dealing with things as well as I'd (naively) hoped and in fact my transition is upsetting him a great deal. I really and truly never wanted to hurt him or anyone else because of this, but it looks like I must add him to the list of those that I have.

Accepting the new me and killing the old

I'm pretty sure I look quite 'odd' to most people and I'm also totally convinced that I don't totally pass and probably never will. I could go on listing my faults and problems, though I just got a strange feeling of deja vu so I suspect this would just be a rehash of things I've already said.

What has just occurred to me is that my biggest problem is that it's hard for me to accept the new me and that is the thing that hold me back the most. It's also become apparent that, despite what I thought, and probably even said, some months ago, it's not going to be a case of just 'me' in a different package, the old personality will have to die.

I spent alot of my formative years building up mental defences to stop me changing who and what I am, I can even recall conciously being worried about being different to how I felt I was. This isn't strictly a trans thing, just how I am. I've always tried to keep a tight control on everything about how I think and feel. It's very easy to slip back behind the barriers in my head when I don't know how to deal with things and essentially my old personality goes into autopilot bringing back my old voice, mannerisms, and a flood of confusion with it.

I am happiest when I feel that I am fulfilling my female role and behaving, sounding, and acting that way. It only takes little things to make me feel good but equally the smallest amount of wrongness can tip me the other way.

In order to complete my transition I think I do need to dismantle all the mental defences so that I can feel and think freely without being restricted by how I was before. I think it is also very important that I let people in - I think a big part of my old personality was a big mask to hide behind and I can't carry on being like that, I need to be be more open and, if you'll excuse the cliché, in touch with my feelings.

It really will be a different me that comes out of this journey. I have already changed, but the psychological impact and also the pysiological affects of the estrogen, and other medicine that I will take, will mean that I will feel and act much differently to now.

It's going to take a while to accept all of this and I might not even notice when I have, but it is both sad to think that I really will be killing off the old me, but comforting to know that it was that person that got me here and will still be helping me along the way.

[ And I can't believe how incredibly moving it was to type that - I have tears welling up in my eyes ... not ideal in the middle of the office! ]