This past week has been a bit of a whirlwind, even if I didn't notice that fact until just now. Two major milestones were reached, not with a roar, but with a whisper.
1) On Tuesday I went out in public as Molly for the first time ever. It was my sixth appointment with my wonderful GT, and I thought it was about time. I was late when I pulled up outside her office, so I had no time to freak out in the relative privacy of my car and wonder what the hell I was doing. (I'd taken too long obsessing over my makeup back at home.) And to be honest, it wasn't until I had reached the front door of her building that I even realized I'd done it. I was out in the real world at last. That Molly, as she were, had overcome her trans-agoraphobia. At least for those first 20 feet.
I didn't see anyone as I climbed the stairs to my therapists office. And when I left, I wasn't clocked either, mostly because he only other person I saw outside her office never glanced my way. It was an incredible experience, and for the hour I sat in that room I was on cloud 10, because cloud 9 was nowhere good enough. The majority of my appointment was composed of idle chitchat. It actually started to bug me halfway through, and I told her just as much. "I feel like I'm not making any progress with this appointment."
The look on her face can only be described as saying "are you ->-bleeped-<-ing kidding me?" At which point, I realized how silly a statement I had just made. Because there I was, legs crossed carefully at the knees, wearing goddamn skirt and bra. In public. At last. More
She told me, at one point, that I look a lot better as a girl.
I guess Molly smiles more.
And then, came milestone number...
2) Because later that afternoon, at my therapist's behest, I made an appointment with a local endocrinologist. It was for 9:40 in the morning on the very next day. Wednesday. Yesterday.
When I woke up yesterday morning, I sat in bed for several minutes without leaving it. I couldn't help but think to myself "what the ->-bleeped-<- are you doing?" All of my doubts and uncertainties, even after the previous day's highs, were right there at the forefront of my mind. I was terrified. Going out in public was one thing. Driving 40 minutes to discuss testosterone blockers with an endo was... a lot more. If making a public appearance was baby steps, this had to be running a 10K. I honestly contemplated climbing back under the covers. I nearly did. But I wouldn't allow myself to turn tail in fear.
Part of me thought it was silly that I was basically forcing myself to keep the appointment. I wondered if maybe it was indicative that of me not really being trans. But then I realized I wouldn't even have made said appointment had I not wanted it. Meaning I did, in fact, want it. Or something like that.
Sometimes I hate when I use logic on myself.
I was late to that appointment as well, a trend which I hope I can swiftly put an end to. And as a result, I had to sit in an exam room for close to 30 minutes before my doctor finally walked in. In that preceding half-hour, it was so quiet that ticking clock on the wall practically echoed. I contemplated walking out, but I knew I couldn't. It was my fault for being late anyway. So in the meantime, I called a friend, someone who I've been confiding in since the beginning. Talking to him definitely helped temper my fears somewhat.
But when this woman did at long last step through that exam room door, my goodness, all that fear abated completely. I placed her as being around 30 years old, much younger than I had anticipated, and I took notice the wedding ring she wore. She was immediately supportive. She understood that this was awkward for me. "I know it's weird giving out your life story to someone you just met 30 seconds ago." The fact that she acknowledged that instantly put her as the best medical professional I'd ever had come into contact with. She just, I dunno... got it. She got me. She said that we can take this as slow as I want. Some people come in barreling full tilt towards estrogen, others, like myself, are much more cautious as they still try to sort things out.
I asked her how she got into this career of helping transgendered people with hormone therapy. She said that she basically just fell into it, and then added... "And I happen to be married to a woman." Suffice it to say, that made me love her even more.
And though I went there mainly to explore the possibility of testosterone blockers, I left with a prescription in hand for Spiro nonetheless.
I haven't had it filled yet, and I am not quite sure when I will. Because once again I admit I'm scared.
My therapist tells me that I should try the testosterone blockers, if only to see how they make me feel. If I like what they do to me then we can see where to proceed from there. If I don't like the lack of testosterone, then I can always stop taking them.
I guess, as they say, it will be a litmus test. The first of many, in all likelihood. And I'll take each as they come, and see where they lead.
It truly amazes me how much progress I've made in the past three days. I'd call them baby steps, but those steps seem pretty giant to me.
And yet somehow it seems like nothing's really changed.
