Hi Guys,
Haven't posted in a while, but just wanted to drop in - lots has been going on! I've now come out to everyone I know - I've changed my name by Deed Poll and everyone at work, all of my family and friends are using male pronouns and my desired name. It feels absolutely amazing. The first day I went to work as the guy I really am, I just felt such relief - I didn't consciously acknowledge how much strain it was putting on me living a kind of 'double' existence. My mental health is better than it's ever been. I'm coming towards the end of the NHS waiting list for seeing a gender therapist, so hopefully that will happen soon as well, and I'll be on the right track to get T. Everyone I know has been in many ways absolutely, astonishingly, fabulously great about my coming out - part of me is still worried (I'm a naturally anxious person, lol) that the other shoe is going to drop, and a larger part of me is just so happy that I'm lucky enough to have family and friends that either understand this, or are making an effort to understand it. I know it mustn't be like that for everyone, and I may still yet experience unpleasantness or transphobia somewhere along the road - I'm still on my guard. Although I've had a positive experience so far, I must stress, I'm not advocating social transition pre-T as a rule - I understand that this may be untenable or dangerous for many people, and to be honest, I do wish *I* could have taken T before I came out, and would have, were it possible to do it that way on the NHS.
You see, although I've been so lucky in my relatives' and friends' reactions, I just wondered - has anyone else transitioning in the UK through the NHS found it a bit difficult and 'arse-backwards' having to transition socially completely before you get any treatment? My friend, who has contacts with the gender clinic I'll be attending, tells me it's necessary to have lived full-time for at least six months before they'll consider you for hormones, which was a great factor in my choosing to come out at the time I did - I know that I need T to be completely happy, and I wanted to ensure I'd get it as quickly and with as few road blocks as possible. The thing is, this way round of doing things puts certain spanners in the works. I feel like a man, everyone I'm out to acknowledges me, or is at least trying to, as male, but without the hormones I'm still not passing a great deal of the time. People who know me are still slipping up a lot, using female pronouns, and my birth name, and they tell me that they know they'll find it easier when I begin to change physically. I'm asking new people I encounter, or people I speak to over the phone, to accept and acknowledge that I'm a man, and I can tell that they don't believe it. I had an unpleasant experience recently with a taxi driver who kept calling me 'Young Lady,' and when I corrected him completely refused to believe that I was male - he turned on the light over my seat, took a good long look at me and said, 'No. You're female.' I should have informed him that he didn't get to decide my gender, thank you very much, but I was so taken aback that I simply insisted I was a man and left it at that. He then began to talk un-prompted about his niece who was a lesbian and moved on from there to some strange monologue about sex toys. I think he thought he'd stepped into 'Tipping the Velvet' or something. It was all very disconcerting.
What I'm trying to say, I suppose, is that although I understand that the NHS gender clinics have to make absolutely sure that people are certain in their gender identity before they offer hormones with irreversible physical effects, at the same time, it's a bit of a Catch-22. I can't fully and effectively live as a man in day-to-day life without the hormones, which is what I'm required to do to *get* the hormones. I believe in my heart that I'm a man, and I'm taking control of how people perceive me as much as I can, but there's only so far that will work without actually being able to *present* fully as a man. I don't want to sound churlish, of course, about the NHS. Despite the insanely long waiting lists and the lack of funding that's channelled into this particular area of treatment, I'm incredibly grateful that I live in a country where there's a health care system that allows me to transition at little or no financial cost. I honestly don't know what I would have done, otherwise, as I have no money, and I know many of you in the same situation have had to pay for your counselling and meds - immense respect. It just seems to me, from a trans person's point of view, that maybe certain things could be re-thought to make transitioning less difficult and dangerous.
I'm also very aware, you see, of the risks it might pose to my personal safety. I live in a rather rough part of town (eek, well... a very rough part of town, if I'm honest. It's the most notorious street in the town for violence and general 'party-time' unpleasantness on Saturday nights), though it's ridiculously cheap and the only place I can afford at the moment. I'm trying to find the right balance between avoiding paranoia and being realistically cautious about staying safe, particularly as I work in one of the social 'hot spots' of town, in a very visible entertaining role, and consequently know, and am known by, an awful lot of people in the area.
For the minute, most people seem to be harmlessly (although occasionally a little annoyingly, lol) curious and even excited that something they've so rarely encountered (and something that they've recently seen on Big Brother!) is happening in this tiny town. The annoyance, of course, has been far outweighed by the fact that people are so far being nice, and communicative, and very open-minded about it. There have been a lot of questions, and even some moments when people I barely know have come up to me and told me they think I'm brave. I'm immeasurably touched by this, but also a little embarrassed, if I'm honest, as I don't feel as though I really had a choice in this. It was something I needed to do for my own happiness and well-being. Yes, there is a certain bravery in it, but it seems to me that it would have been just as brave, though perhaps ill-advised, to bear the pain of trying to live as someone I'm not. It's swings and roundabouts. Swings, roundabouts, and those bouncy animal things that rock backwards and forwards when you sit on them. And those rows of tyres attached to chains. And see-saws and climbing frames.
I'm starting to ramble now. I'll stop. So much is changing, in many ways for the better, but it's also strange and new and scary and difficult, and I just wanted to write it down somewhere.
Thanks for reading, if you've got this far!