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[naeomee-blog1]

Two Years on Oestrogen

On this day, two years ago, I started on oestrogen hormone therapy.  Getting to that point has been an epic quest of its own, bringing new challenges to light in the process.

This is my story, a tale of my perceptions and my struggles through life from the perspective of gender - I will write more about my disabilities, and how they affected my life, at a later point in time.

Please excuse any clunky language… It may be two years into my journey, but sadly I don’t always have the right wording or language to fully express myself.  I’m doing my best, and that’s what counts... Right?

In the beginning…

For as long as I can remember, I’ve never really understood the point of gender, and it’s supposed crucial role in society.  The idea that there were products, colours, etc that were “boys’” or “girls’” confounded me.  It seemed unnecessarily silly, and pointless - they were just objects, colours, etc.  There was nothing intrinsically gendered about them.  For example, pink being a “girls’” colour - it is merely a colour, a combination of red and white (or yellow). It is a wonderful colour, but it isn’t owned; doesn’t possess a gender. It’s just a colour.

My hobbies were more neutral than anything. I liked to read - every day I would go to my local library after school. On Friday’s I would attend model club - my models of choice were usually World War I & II, and Star Trek related.  When I got along with my sisters, we would play make believe. I secretly had a fascination of ballet, which I didn’t express.

I had these concepts of gender foisted upon me, what was or was not considered for boys or for girls. To some limited form, I allowed these to be pushed on me.  I wore “male” clothing, I was gendered a boy, I was referred to as he/him, etc.  I hid some of my interests because they were deemed for girls only.

I’m under no illusion that my parents would have accepted me, if I expressed concerns about how I was perceived, about being a boy, etc.  The fact that Mummy accepts me now is proof of this.  However, at the time I didn’t know how to express what I felt - a lack of gender.  The complete lack of understand of why things were considered for boys, or girls.  I didn’t have the words.  Instead, I sought solitude, and the company of books - they allowed me escape from a world I didn’t really understand.  The irony, of course, is the books naturally all used very gendered language, and expressed concepts of manliness and femininity - but that I could ignore… For there were worlds in these books, fascinating places of culture, and mystery.

Given how I understood the world to work - unfortunately, thanks to my father (as well as that side of the family), who had a more traditional perception of family, I felt scared to express my distress at being labelled a boy - for being a boy meant being the “stronger” of the genders, the workers, the breadwinners.  Being a girl was considered lesser - to be the one to stay home, to cook, to wash, to clean, to bear children.  I felt that I would have been considered a freak if I expressed that I wanted nothing to do with gender; more of an abomination than if I knew I were a girl.

That’s the world of sexism I was exposed to - the awful credo of women being terrible drivers, stay at home mums, etc.  I’m not going to lie, I have said terribly sexist things in the past myself - in the misguided attempts to fit in.  It felt wrong saying such things, more so than hearing sexist statements spouted out by others.  To this day, father makes these awful declarations and jokes - which makes me extremely hesitant to be around him.  I feel deeply ashamed that I was brought up in a world where this kind of behaviour was deemed not only acceptable, but expected.

Reaching puberty…

My teenage years were the worst part of my life.  I was severely bullied for being a freak, gay, and many other things.  I was sexually assaulted by a girl at the age of 14 - something nobody should ever have to experience, let alone at that age.  I lost my dear Grandpa to cancer.  I was at my lowest, and to add to this I felt even more distanced from myself and the changes my body was forcing upon me.

I wanted nothing to do with puberty, I didn’t welcome the changes - I didn’t even want the genitals that I had.  But I had no recourse but to bite my tongue and deal with it - I didn’t feel I could express myself without being told I was being silly, that it was a phase, etc.  No doubt I would have suffered even more bullying too.

All the while I felt confusion and anger at myself - I had a diagnosis of Asperger Syndrome, which was kept off the record due to being at a stage of my life that was apparently “critical”, with GCSE exams upcoming in a year or two.  I found myself lashing out more, I was angry all the time, I rebelled at everything I could - including myself.  I fell behind in coursework, refused to take part in Physical Education (in fairness, it was often just playing football - an utterly stupid ‘sport’ that I loathe beyond words).  I wouldn’t participate in Religious Education either - I felt whatever G-d there might be had forsaken me, robbed me of someone I considered a role model and a guiding force in my life.

I found solitude in my school library, and in the ICT Department, hiding away reading books and repairing computers - two things that gave me relief from life, and a repetitive structure that I found myself liking (as well as learning about electronics).  Eventually, I was placed on antidepressants at the age of 15, because I simply couldn’t cope with everything I faced - it was too much for me, and I started shutting down.  The medication I was placed on (initially citalopram, then escitalopram, followed by fluoxetine/Prozac) kept me barely functioning.  I felt like a zombie - well, more of a robot, I guess. It was better than facing my depression, but left me devoid of passion for anything.  I merely woke up, did what was required on that day, read my books to escape, then went to bed again in the evening.

Headed in to adulthood…

My adulthood has been very mixed, involving many name changes, as my discomfort with myself grew.  Initially I thought perhaps it was the wrong name, so I tried alternatives - including even more male-aligned names to try and throw myself into sharp relief with the sex I was born with, to see if I could suppress this extreme distaste of myself.  To make matters worse for me, I experienced sexual assault for a second time at age 18, at my first trip to an LGBT+ nightclub.  This time a guy was responsible.

Around this time I found myself looking into transgender related topics very much in-depth, and I found a lot of parallels to my own life.  Whilst a lot of people come out at an early age, I discovered that there are people who came out later in life.  I discovered the term dysphoria, and felt relief that there was a description for how I felt.

At this time I had a boyfriend, who was himself transgender.  Unfortunately, I found myself too scared to express how I felt about myself, and that sexual activities with him were almost expressly for his enjoyment (when they weren’t doomed to failure) - my dysphoria caused me significant issues with performance, even with the help of medication such as Sildenafil - and a high dosage of 100mg at that.  I worried it would cause relationship issues, upset and possibly even angry outbursts and invalidation.  This proved not to be a worry, as in the end we split up, and I moved to Folkestone with father.

Acceptance and transitioning...

Eventually I realised I couldn’t escape who I was, or suppress it - and having moved away from Medway, I felt safer being more expressive.  It was at this point I thought about neutral names, and I spoke to a friend about non-binary gender identities - after having done extensive research.  He was incredibly supportive, and I felt more compelled to seek out what I knew I wanted, and needed: A neutral or feminine name, and to be referred to a Gender Identity Clinic to get hormone therapy.

Getting a referral to the Gender Identity Clinic was no walk in the park, I got turned away by the first GP I saw, being told that “they wouldn’t want to see you, as you’re neither boy or girl - they won’t be able to help you”.  The second GP just outright refused because they didn’t understand, and even after clarifying I was told they still wouldn’t refer me anyway.  The third GP I saw thankfully had dealt with gender identity before at a previous clinic/surgery, and told me she would refer me without hesitation or “roadblocks” to Charing Cross.  It was an absolute relief to feel like progress was being made - it took me weeks to get to this point.  In between each refusal I had spent time furthering my research and making notes for myself of how I might make more progress.

With my referral underway, I realised I didn’t think I could handle waiting so long to receive hormone therapy - sure, I was 30 and by that logic I should be able to wait a year or two more… But this brought the realisation that I could be 40 before I had any surgeries, and the thought of that horrified me.  I needed hormones, I needed to start my transition and to get well underway with my social transitioning too - there’s a minimum requirement of two years of hormone therapy and social transition before surgical consultation will be considered.

I looked for alternatives… DIY hormone therapy looking too terrifying and complex, and GenderCare was simply too expensive.  I stumbled across a few posts on Reddit discussing a new-ish service from Dr Webberley, aimed at providing hormones to those who needed it, at significantly less cost than with GenderCare - and was all online.  This sounded perfect to me, so I made some enquiries, which quickly resulting in paying the appropriate fees, undergoing a consultation and a week later, I received my first batch of hormones: EVOREL Oestradiol patches (one per week), and Finasteride (5mg daily).

My hormone therapy started on the 14th May, 2016 - my best friend at the time wanted to “slap the first patch on my arse” as it was described, to my amusement… And that was exactly what happened at his flatwarming party.The patches lasted no time - unfortunately they fell off too often, so I was quickly switched to Climaval tablets.  I was also prescribed Vaniqa, a cream to reduce facial hair - unfortunately this proved to be an unsuccessful treatment for me.

I found my mood improving (despite the monthly wobbles I developed around my marker day - a term I use to indicate the day I started hormone therapy).  I felt more liberated, I started looking for clothes I felt more comfortable in.  My friend started referring to me as she/her and I adored it - it felt so right.

In August 2016 I decided to make the move to DIY hormone therapy, in an attempt to reduce costs, and to understand the process more intimately (having to assess my own blood test results, and gauge the levels to adjust my regime accordingly) - the medication I took was Spironolactone and Progynova.  This lasted until October 2016, when I went back with Dr Webberley’s GenderGP.co.uk service for a month (back on Finasteride and now prescribed Sandrena gel), before transferring onto a bridging prescription with my GP.  This resulted in a prescription change to Cyproterone Acetate and Sandrena gel.

Around November 2017 I started going swimming in Brighton at events held specifically for transgender people, enabling them a safe space to swim, without fear of judgement, misgendering, etc.  I decided to change my name to Naeomee, a name I feel completely at home with.  I’ve found myself describing myself predominantly as non-binary/demigirl, though on occasion for simplicity I do sometimes use transgirl/MtF.  I feel a lot more comfortable with these descriptions.  I’m planning to undergo surgeries, hopefully having my first surgical opinion in June 2018.

I had my first appointment at Charing Cross Gender Identity Clinic in March 2017 - I received a call a day before, offering me a short notice appointment the next day.  I jumped at this, naturally - I had to replan my day, as I was due to go to Brighton for Trans Swimming in the afternoon, which I pushed back to early evening.  The appointment was pretty intense, with a lot of personal questions to establish how I felt, how I identified, what I was looking for, etc.  I won’t lie, it was quite overwhelming and emotional.

My second appointment was in September 2017, again a pretty intense appointment, but at the end I signed a Shared Care document to be sent to my GP meaning that my hormone therapy would be officially handled by the GIC from then on.  My prescription was change to Decapeptyl GnRH (injection) and to remain on Sandrena gel.

It’s now two years since I started on hormones.  Whilst I still have a lot of dysphoria, and often struggle to see the changes I’ve undergone, I get constant daily reminders that I’m slowly passing more - I get compliments from people, comments that they would never have guessed I wasn’t born female, etc.  It’s quite validating for me to hear this.  Yes, I still get misgendered a lot too, especially on days where it’s more difficult to keep up my voice and find myself speaking in my older, bassier voice.

Mostly I feel good, I have decent and supportive friends, I have a wonderful boyfriend (also transgender).  I’m living with him, in our own flat - it’s nice to have a place of our own and to be no longer living under parents.