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ineedahandinminetofeel · 6 years

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Appointment 3: Once, twice, three times a maybe... not.

12/11/17 (Written 24/11/17)

I suppose you can tell by how far apart my writing is from my appointment date that I am so thoroughly done with the wonderful NHS.

My day was lovely, a friend came with me and we had a great time together. The appointment was terrible, as the two before it were. I feel completely unvalidated... invalidated... invalid? in the face of these “caring and compassionate” professionals.

I feel no worse dysphoria than having to beg a stranger to let me live my life the way I want to live it. To be allotted just thirty minutes to convince someone who’s never even met me before that I am who I’ve been for the last 10 years of my life.

No wonder almost half of trans people attempt suicide, no wonder a trans woman from England was granted asylum in New Zealand. As a trans person goes I’m lucky, I’ve got loving and supportive friends and family. I am lucky, I really am. I can’t imagine what life is like for someone who deals with aggressive transphobia in an unsupportive environment to then have to go face the people at a Gender Identity Clinic. I am truly sorry if someone in that situation ever ends up reading this.

To paraphrase the meeting.

Me: I’m really hurting having waited two years to get to this point, can I please have hormones. Like, all I want is titty skittles I’m really happy with every other facet of my life. No problems anywhere else, I’ve got a really good idea of how I want to handle my transition and the people in my life. I’ve literally had a decade to think about this, I know exactly how I want to handle everything.

Them: Yeah, if you’re not starring in your own drag show we’re not going to give you anything. Either fully transition now or get out of my office.

Me: But-

Them: We’ll book you in with a psychologist so you can talk about how you’re having trouble transitioning. The wait time for the first appointment should probably only be a few months. But hey, what’s 6 more months of waiting on top of the last 2 years of waiting when we’re probably not going to give you anything anyway!

Me: I don’t-

Them: Oh! Our 10 minute chat about the most important thing in your life and indeed future of your entire life is over. See you next year!

*Office door slams in my face*

So yeah, that was my third and final assessment appointment. There was a little bit of hyperbole in there, but to be honest, not a ton. I received the letter summarising the appointment today, which has also been sent to my GP. No sign of this appointment with the psychologist though.

So yeah, great time, great experience, great life. Great everything. Just great.

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 7 years

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Appointment 2: Dysphoria boogaloo

1/9/17

Let it be said that I take really bad care of myself. This includes my teeth, I brush and avoid fizzy drinks and sweets and all that stuff but I avoid dentists like the plague. So when tooth pain set in on Wednesday (today is Friday) I was like, “I’m sure it’ll go.” It didn’t go. Then we got to Thursday, and on Thursday I was also very sure it would go. Didn’t go. So last night I went to bed with this tooth pain and got maybe 4~ hours of sleep. Great way to start the the day I’ve been waiting for for the last 4 months!!!!!!

Another early start, appointment at 11 and a 2 hour train ride meant that I more or less got up for a normal early shift. We had to do a pretty big charade cause my dad was up at the same time this morning so I had to get changed into my work uniform and pretend I was going in today (despite having finished on Wednesday) then once he was gone I ran back upstairs and changed into normal clothes, painted my nails, etc. We also decided to leave our car at my mum’s workplace, despite her taking the day off and having to make an excuse. We have learnt for the future that if you’re saying you can’t come into work that day, it’s probably not a good idea to store your car at work...

Got our train tickets and ran for an earlier train. We got to the city at 0930 for an 1100 appointment, ended up walking around the city centre to find a café. Found a little expensive place and had breakfast there. Got a taxi to the clinic. We arrived half an hour early but I didn’t actually go to the appointment until quarter past, fifteen minutes late.

This conversation was a lot like the last one. A history, what treatment I want, what’s wrong with me, mental illnesses, social past, how I present and what my dysphoria is like. I felt less attacked this time, I got the distinct impression last time that I wasn’t trans enough (somehow?) but this conversation was a bit nicer. They still really pushed me to do some sort of social transition before I start my medical transition but that’s not really what I want to do? They asked if I wanted help from someone there sorting out a plan for my transition, I politely declined and held back the opinion that I’m far too stubborn to do this at anyone’s pace but my own.

She explained a few obvious things to me as well in a manner I found a little... condescending? “Cissplaining” could probably be thrown around but I’ll give her the benefit of the doubt as she is a professional with a lot of experience. But she told me really basic things like hormones are permanent and they can’t change everything about your body, I’m not sure if she was trying to temper my expectations or something? I don’t entirely get the purpose of her explanation.

She did reiterate that social transition normally comes first, then physical transition, which is not what I want personally. As with the dentist I just want to avoid all the fuss. If I come out to everyone now but don’t actually start dressing/ presenting/ acting female full time it sort of defeats the purpose, right? If I come out as MtF and then just continue presenting male then it almost makes it seem like a joke? So I have little intention to come out to anyone until I’m ready to start actually presenting female, and I’m not going to start presenting female until I’ve got a more feminine body. Which isn’t going to happen until I get hormones.

I did attempt to explain this but I don’t know if she got it all, to be honest? I said that and she sort of just reiterated her point, in a nice way, and she did make note that transitions are individual affairs, but I still get the feeling they want me to tell the world before I’m allowed to make any progress from where I’m at. Which is just not going to happen.

So from here I’m going to have another appointment with her, a third appointment over all. That appointment might also be lumped in with a nurse appointment where they’ll take my height and weight (kill me ;-; ), BMI, and do some screens for depression and anxiety (I’m trans how do they need to screen those things?????). After that, the two medical professionals I saw today will discuss my case and give me a diagnosis. My GP will be asked to prescribe and monitor my titty skittles and then there’ll be a few follow ups after that, seemingly every 2 months about how I’m getting on and everything? That’s what I got from today.

I walked out of the appointment feeling okay, really. I guess the social transition is going to be a sticking point and a recurring theme in these discussions with my GIC but I don’t intend to budge. So we’ll see how that one plays out.

There were no taxis in the city, so we almost walked the 45 minutes back to the train station. Found a pub, got a drink, checked uber every 5 minutes until finally there was something there. Had to stand on the train back because of the strikes and everything, stood for 70 minutes before getting to sit down for the last 30. Made it home and everything’s been okay. Except for this tooth pain which I’m fighting back with bruphen while looking up emergency dentists...

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 7 years

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An appointment indeed.

8/5/17

So, early start today. I hate early starts, picked the wrong job I guess? 2 hours ish on the train to arrive there at around about twenty past nine for an appointment at ten oclock. Getting there was pretty seamless really. My mum came with me and we kept each other company on the train.

The first thing that happened when I got there was they brought me a form to ask about my ethnicity etc. apparently my GP hadn’t given them that. The person that I was seeing for the day came and got us both, my mum came in to the appointment with me. If he said his name I’d forgotten it within minutes, and if he said his job title I’d forgotten that too. My mum had too, which kind of leads me to believe he may not have introduced himself fully since we’re both generally good about remembering those kinds of things, but I’m not sure.

So we sat for an hour and a quarter and basically went through what I have decided to call My Ghosts of Dysphoria Past, Present, and Future. “When did I figure out I was trans?”, “How did I figure out?”, a lot of “How did that feel?”. If I present as female anywhere in real life (I don’t, I don’t have the privacy to do so, there’s literally always someone in the house due to my family’s shift patterns), what steps I’ve taken towards presenting female in real life (again very little because of the aforementioned lack of solid privacy.)

If I’m out to any friends (yes), and if they were okay with it (also yes <3), what they call me and how that makes me feel (if you’re reading this, supportive people, you are the best <3). If I’d taken any steps towards social transition (really no), like if I’ve told the rest of my family like my dad and brother (no and no), or if I’ve changed my name via deed poll (I’m looking for jobs at the moment, and I don’t really want to have to explain that at interview, so no). Other things too, I think? I’m writing this literally 12 hours removed cause I think I wanted some time to digest it.

I remember a lot of questions about being young as well, like how I acted before I learnt I was trans. How learning I was trans changed me, what I was like as a teenager. What I’ve been like since being trans. Mental, emotional, physical health, that kind of thing, which are all pretty much fine for me.

Some things made me feel a little, I don’t know if uncomfortable is the word, but a little perplexed. I told him my hobbies, which are admittedly rather nerdy and somewhat male, like video games or roleplay games. He said it was common for trans people to have nerdy hobbies, but I still get the feeling he wanted me to be more of a girly girl than I am.

Similarly to that point, I own no typically female clothes, so I went in nice “male” clothes (nice shirt and black skinny jeans) which he picked up on. Specifically saying something like “the clothes you’ve worn today, I imagine you got them from the men’s section?” To which I nodded? There’s not really a... genderless section? The point sort of was though, that I was dressing in a masculine fashion which I felt he disapproved of. Made it awkward when I looked at my mum who was wearing... a nice shirt and black skinny jeans.

Not so much in the moment but a little later on I wonder what this man would make of my entirely female friend who doesn’t like make-up, or doing her hair, and is a powerlifter and a very dedicated, long time kickboxer (hi you, if you’re reading!). Would she pass the GICs gender stereotype litmus test or would my actually female friend be not enough of a woman? Similarly none of the women in my family really wear skirts besides a glamorous aunt and my young woman cousin, every other woman in the family wears trousers and aren’t really girly girls. Are any of the women in my family women enough for my GIC?

He asked about dysphoria a lot too, and I don’t think I impressed him particularly. 40% of transgender people have attempted suicide, and it’s estimated up to 90% have suicidal ideation. I’m wonderfully lucky to have no experience with either. Dysphoria hits me, obviously, and it sucks, but just in general I’m a very laid back person, so it never really hits me so badly that I feel an overriding sense of suffering with it?

I’m the kind of person that if I’m on a bus that’s going to be late, I don’t worry about it cause I can’t change it. That is to say, I try not to stress about things I have no control over, because that’s not productive. This extends to my body and my dysphoria, so I kind of make sure that it never hits me that hard by adopting that attitude. Obviously I’m trying to change it, but that requires hormones and a long drawn out process, feeling bad about myself in the mean time doesn’t accomplish anything and just dampens my life too. So I don’t have particularly bad dysphoria, but I’m also to be in a situation where I’ve selected and collected supportive friends, and in the last year and a bit I’ve gained some familial support as well. I’ve carefully topiary’d a lot of support around myself, so I never feel so bad about it.

So I feel like the fact that I’m not a dysphoric wreck maybe put him off? I have to admit, like, entirely, I’m not very good at this trans thing. I didn’t really have any trans friends for a long long time, I didn’t have a trans “mentor” when I was young and discovering myself. Were there even trans communities online in 2007? This was like, when MySpace was at it’s peak, I didn’t know how to find support from a community, I was happy enough to find a PHB bulletin board about Star Wars, nevermind plumbing the depths of my gender identity.

My point is, a lot of my development as a trans person is really weird sounding and I think pretty unconventional. My girl name is a mash up of my real life names that started out as a nickname I had before I figured out I was trans, I figured out I was trans just through chatting to someone who was trans and then I was kinda left alone to figure it all out. I was so poorly informed about trans stuff that I thought you couldn’t even transition after 18, as if puberty was a literal off switch and my 18th birthday was some kind of point of no return. Sometimes I recount stories about myself and even I feel stupid, so I have no idea how he took me, since I did tell him all this as well.

I’m waffling now, I think. He told me that there’d be 3 more appointments, one of which I think I can get done at home, but that means I’m going to have to make the (expensive) two hour journey to my GIC at least twice more. No bloods taken today, no hormones given, and he did tell me that I’m going to have a very very similar chat with a psychiatrist some time in the future.

My overall impression is that I think he wasn’t too impressed with me. I felt like I wasn’t trans enough? I really really got the feeling that, as I mentioned in the previous post, that someone who’s never met me before is interviewing me on whether I get to be me or not and it just felt all a bit like a test? But like, a test where you don’t really know what answers they’re even looking for. I had a job interview recently and it literally felt like that, except even in a job interview you kinda know what’s expected of you. He was some kind of psychologist, since I mentioned I had a degree in psychology and he told me he had two. He was very, like very “therapist-y”, lots of “how did that make you feel”, lots of probing on weird and random things I’d never even thought of or thought important. I mean, I know I went there for an assessment but I didn’t think I’d feel so uncomfortable about it?

I guess I don’t really know how to feel, he said there’ll be an appointment in the post in the next six weeks, so here’s hoping. My overall impression is that there was a set of hoops and I did not jump high enough, or particularly high at all. Trans people are very popular at the moment, mainly as debate topics in the same way that any minority’s rights are debated by a poorly informed majority. You can see examples in America with the bathroom bill, or as trans people get more exposure the issue of trans athlete’s gets debated a lot, mostly by people who have never even seen a trans person before and it’s generally pretty horrific to read. I am, personally, just so tired of being a debate topic, I’m so tired of being a discussion piece, and this today didn’t really help much with it. I’m a person, not like, a thing to be codified, classified, and sorted, you know?

I know there’s no choice other than to have all these assessments and things, so I can’t complain about it cause I understand it, it’s still just tiring. It did feel like a job interview, it was alien, I didn’t really like it and I’m not really looking forwards to doing it again, even if it’s the doorway to who I want to be. I don’t like other people meddling in my affairs or suggesting how I act, I’m very private. If I don’t want to social transition, I shouldn’t have to social transition. If I don’t want to like typically female things I don’t feel like I should have to to impress a psychologist that lives (literally) a hundred miles away from me in a city I have no intention of ever even visiting for anything outside of trans stuff.

I’m stubborn, I don’t like being bossed around, but I guess now that my life is in the hands of these doctors and psych(ologists/iatrists) I am beholden to someone else’s rules, standards, ideas, preconceptions, misconceptions, and demands. Though now I know how my nan feels when she says the nurses in hospital are bossing her around and she hates it, even when we tell her that they’re not and if they are it’s for her own good.

All in all, it was an interesting day. A weird one. I’m tired, very tired. Physically, mentally, emotionally. But it’s the start of a process, so I guess I’m happy sort of kind of maybe ishy a little?

Oh, I guess end on a (sort of) funny (but not super funny when you think about it) note, my GP had told the GIC that I was 31. I’m 24. I don’t even know where my GP got 31 from. If it was 34 I’d understand because that’s 1982 compare to 1992, but 31? What are they even doing?! This is, also to say, that my GP didn’t send my referral the first time I attended and asked for it, and I had to phone back a while later to get them to actually send the referral in the first place, all those 14 months ago. I wonder if I hadn’t phoned up to check last year, would I even be writing this now? I’ll leave some of the other things that my GP has gotten wrong out about my health, because they’re not strictly trans things, but those in the know will see this as part of a rather shitty picture concerning my local doctors who have already made some rather catastrophic mistakes in my life.

Anyway, if you read this far I’ve got no idea what you must be doing with your life as there are plenty of far better things you should have done! Go hug a loved one or look at cute pictures of dogs online! Go on! Go do something useful. And thank you for reading. <3

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 7 years

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An appointment.

4/5/17 (Written 6/5/17)

So, finally over a year later (it really, really doesn’t feel like a year, that’s honestly quite amazing) I received a phone call. I’d phoned my GIC once or twice in the preceding couple of weeks asking how close I was to the front of the line, they told me it’d be some time around June or July but that they fill appointments of people who have dropped out. I didn’t expect this to happen to me and was waiting for a letter to come through the door telling me my appointment was going to be some time around August even, really.

I got a phone call at ten in the morning Thursday, sat in a public computer room in my university. It’s almost a good thing I’m so last minute with my essays, if I hadn’t been doing work I probably wouldn’t have woken up before midday and missed the phone call. They offered me an appointment the coming Monday which I obviously jumped at the chance to take. I’ve waited this long, I’ve got no intention of waiting any longer.

It feels surreal to finally have an appointment, and now that everything’s moving I feel ludicrously unprepared. I guess I’ve learnt that neither your dreams or deadlines are so far away, so you should move quickly even if you feel you’ve got all the time in the world. I’ve not done any of the things I thought I’d have done by the time this day comes around, I’ve lost some weight but not all of it, I’ve got no girl voice at all, nor have I made any serious attempt at laser hair removal beyond googling prices. I don’t know if GICs still require some form of legal name change but I’ve not done that either.

Looking back at a post I made 14 months ago I said I intended to move out and go private, those ideas fell through as quickly as they were dreamt up and obviously I never went through with either. I’m still only out to my mum but in the time since my last post I’ve made some wonderfully supportive friends who have really helped me feel a little bit more like me.

In the space of a short phone call I went from expecting to wait anywhere from 2-4 months for an appointment to having less than a hundred hours until my appointment. It’s half past three on Saturday as I write this and I’m already approaching the only-40-hours-to-go mark and it’s nerve racking. 4 days doesn’t entirely feel like enough time to mentally prepare for this sort of thing.

Of course, being prepared is a strange thing though. In places where I’ve had the chance I’ve been me since I was 15, and I’ve never needed anyone else’s validation to me be. But now I do need that validation, I mean I don’t need that validation personally, a doctor can’t tell me that I’m not me, but they can deny me access to the things I want to feel more like myself.

It’s like going for a job interview, except instead of a job you’re being interviewed by someone who’s never met you on whether you are or aren’t allowed to be yourself. Imagine if you had to go talk to someone who could control one irremovable, painful aspect of your life. This person that has never met you gets to decide whether that pain you’ve lived with for years is worth doing something about or not.

You feel like a little lost animal with a broken limb, cradled in the hands of some human who’s appraising whether you’re worth treating or not. They don’t know you and you don’t know them, but in a short space of time they’re going to make this massive decision that will alter the course of your life massively, for better or worse. It’s daunting.

But I guess all you can do is approach the future with a smile, so that’s what I’ll do. If not I can always go private, I know I said that 14 months ago but at that time I was 18 months away from getting a job whereas now I’m only 4 months from a job, so it’s more feasible now.

Either way, expect something Monday.

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 8 years

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The bubble.

Some friends and I play a game where we just ask each other questions about one and other, we’ve done it for a long time and it’s an excellent way to get to know someone. These are all online friends and know I’m trans, but don’t know what I look like, nor do I like reminding them because I don’t like talking about what I physically look like either.

One friend asked me to recount the moment I felt cutest. I can imagine this is an awkward subject for anyone pre-HRT, so I opted out of giving a answer based around my physical body. My friends were kind enough to rephrase it so I could answer based on my experiences in online communities. I was so happy with the answer I gave I decided to stop just using this blog to record dates and actually write about myself.

I think I feel feminine a lot, all day every day because everywhere I go, every community just sees me as a woman. Every time someone calls me "she" or anything I feel so happy. You start to forget that there's anything different, I really sometimes start to forget about my physical body entirely and I'm just... happy. Like a happy little bubble around me. Of course the bubble is only there when I'm at my computer, it pops when I look away from that screen, and it's never there in real life, but I like the bubble. It's a happy place.

I’ve never found a definition of dysphoria that summarises everything for everyone, and I know fully well that I never will. There’s no one “trans experience”, just like there’s no one “woman experience” or one “black experience”, trans experience is as massively varied as every other point of view and journey that every person goes through.

But I feel like I’m happy with that definition, for me, at least for now. Being trans is like always being away from that comfort zone, outside of your safe space. Everyone has a different definition of their safe space and we all know what it’s like to be outside it. We all know what it feels like to be stood in front of a room of people trying to mumble out some public speaking or sat in the dentist’s waiting room anxiously eyeing the door handle, hoping it never opens.

And that’s how I feel it feels to be trans, you’re never in that comfort zone. After public speaking you sit back down, after the dentist you go back home. There is no “stop” for dysphoria until you find a way to truly express who you are. For me for a long time it was the internet, it was online friends and communities where my physical body didn’t matter. It was like sliding into that safe zone in the same way you would get into a sleeping bag or a hot tub, you sink in and everything is comfortable.

But like with hot tubs and sleeping bags your head is always sticking out, always above the water. You’re never fully covered up, your bubble of safety stops at your neck and for me, who spent her life living behind a computer screen, as soon as I looked away from that computer screen the bubble popped and that safe comfortable space went away entirely.

That’s where transition comes in, that’s where hormones and dresses and make-up and skirts come in. That’s where shaving your beard, growing your nails out, and trying to lose weight come in. Because now you’re presented a chance to close that bubble up around your head and be safe inside it, you’re not tethered to the small safe spaces that you had to live by.

For me that safe space was living as a girl full time on the internet for nearly a decade before I decided to do something about it, some people cross dress, some people write stories, some people take selfies and play with make-up apps on their phone.

We all have a safe space, and in transition we’re asking that the world allow us to bring that safe space out of hiding so we can live comfortably everywhere. Rather than be trapped in our “comfortable” dark, cramped, claustrophobic little closets. Rather than sitting in the dentist’s waiting room, anxiously gripping the chair’s armrest and mumbling “I’m fine” through grit teeth for your entire life, waiting for a door handle that will hang over you eternally but never actually open.

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 8 years

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18/3/16

I got a letter from the clinic, I’m on a waiting list now. I just need to fill in some details and send that back, so that’s good. The letter says that I can phone to check my position on the waiting list. I’ve checked independently gathered statistics and they say anywhere between 33 weeks (8 months) to 70 weeks (18 months), so best case scenario for NHS funded treatment is Christmas, worse case is my next birthday.

I plan to move out and go private, but that dream is still massively up in the air at the moment so I don’t know. The future is a silly place, must we keep going there?

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 8 years

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11/3/16

I got the blood results back from the doctor and everything returned fine. All the results came back good and he said he’d send the referral off for me, which is nice of him.

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 8 years

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25/2/16

I got my blood taken. It was painless and I did not suffer afterwards. The walk to my GP was longer than the wait time and the procedure time. Hopefully these results will be sent to the GIC and they will accept my referral.

That is all.

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 8 years

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17th of Febuary, 2016.

I got a letter in response from the GIC I’ve chosen to go to, they want blood results before they’ll accept my referral. It’s a set of routine bloods, in fact I know what all these tests are for and do. Now I just need to book an appointment and get them done. So it should be super simple to get on the waiting list.

It still feels massively surreal, like it’s never going to happen or that I’m never going to get there. I’m so nervous as I write this, even though there’s literally nothing happening right now. Even if I get this referral I know that the waiting time for NHS GICs is something ridiculous like a year or more. I could get these blood tests done now and not hear anything until next January. Hopefully I will have gone private by then.

Every little step is so weird, like I still don’t expect this to be happening, but I still look forwards to it everyday. I kinda can’t get my head around it, it’s strange but it’s happening.

Also today is my mum’s birthday, she was the one who got the post this morning and handed me the letter secretly. Happy Birthday mum! ... Probably not what you wanted to see/ read on your birthday, but, well, that’s life...!

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 8 years

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The first step

26th January 2016.

To keep a long story short I went and saw my GP today, got a referral to the Gender Identity Clinic. The wait time could be up to 74 weeks, but I’m just glad I’ve done it. I’ve got no clue when I’ll get any information about my appointment or what will happen in the future, but that’s okay, life would be boring if we could see into the future.

I took the first step, I’m glad.

Plenty more steps to go though.

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ineedahandinminetofeel · 8 years

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A bit of history.

I’ll give this a second go because my first attempt wasn’t particularly fantastic. I’m 23 now, 24 in July, and since the age of 15 I’ve lived my life, where possible, as a woman. This has almost entirely been online, because that’s the only place where it’s been possible to do so without a lot of funny looks and questions. But if I had been given the option at 15 to change my body into a girls body and blend in to the rest of the world like normal I would have.

Well, the option did exist, I just didn’t know about it. I didn’t know a lot of things when I started this, just that I preferred being thought of as, and referred to as a girl. As I got older I never really thought to learn more about what I was or what my options were. I’d learnt that I was transgender and I navigated the various traps and pains of that alone, I’d never had support of an older or wiser trans person because I never looked for it.

So for bordering on 9 years now I’ve lived two lives essentially, a real world life where I’ve been a son and a male student and a guy friend and all that sort of stuff. I’ve been a very typical nerd, I spend a lot of time on my computer, I play video games, I don’t know anything about modern music but I know I like rock music and metal. I have a lot of male leanings like that, not to say that women can’t like heavy metal or video games but it’s still generally thought of as a “guy” thing. And that’s always been me on the outside, the me I’ve been when I had to present myself to other people, that’s the me people in the real world know, but that’s very different to the me on the inside.

I never talk about it much in real life but if I’m not actually doing something, like going to university or seeing family once a week, I’m on my computer. Literally when I’m not sleeping I’m at home on my computer. That’s because it’s a lot easier to be who I am on the inside over a computer, it’s a lot easier to tell everyone I’m a girl and have them just accept it.

That’s who I’ve been since I found out I felt like this, and when you hear that someone spends every waking hour sat on a computer, not talking to real life people or going out and partying or having real life experiences, I guess it sounds really pathetic. I’ve always done it because I found it hard to face a real world where I’m not how I want to look, where I can’t be the me I am on the inside. Though I guess that that’s still a little pathetic too, so I hope you don’t judge me too harshly.

I’d always had the media stereotype that all transgender women look like men in dresses, and I always thought that that was going to be me if I ever made the decision to transition. So I decided I was never going to do it, that I was never going to make the leap and live as who I wanted to be. So for far longer than I should have, I lived as a guy, was called a guy and thought of as a guy. Looking back I really wish I had just had the balls to transition at a much younger age and not had to waste so much of my life unhappy.

Then about a month ago I decided to go look at real transgender people. I finally saw real pictures of real people who had started like me, as completely male bodied with beards and everything. These people had made a wonderful decision to start living as themselves and were bold enough to post their progress online. They’re like those timelines you see of people dieting where they start overweight and you can see their progress from month to month as they slim down, except these were real mens faces and bodies slowly turning into faces and bodies that you’d never be able to tell apart from female ones.

It was in those faces and those pictures that I realised that I’d wasted so many years of my life living unhappily. I also realised that if these people could do it I could do it too, and I made the decision then that I wanted to go onto Hormone Replacement Therapy and actually live as who I am on the inside.

I’ve not started that journey yet, I’m out to my best friends who have known since I met them and one other friend who I’ve only met recently, and my mum who is essentially a fourth best friend. At this moment my plans for the future are to tell my GP and get referred on to a clinic that’ll treat me.

On top of that I want to start HRT which will start that process of turning my body from male to female. Which I could possibly start as early as March if my guesses about waiting times and everything are right (I hope they are!).

So, that’s my story.

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