#a few years ago my health insurance had this thing where you'd get points for watching videos about the benefits of drinking water or w/e

[hillbilly---man]

One thing about me is that if there's a pointless rewards program that most people don't know exists, I'm gonna devote way too much time and energy to it so I can cash in 😈

[transmenopause]

Windy Roads

Transition looks different for everyone, if and when it happens, but my road is was definitely not what modern medicine considers "typical".

I was 35 when I came out as nonbinary/genderqueer - Genderfuck was my preferred term, but in professional spheres, it's hard to justify using. I'd been seriously considering what gender was, how I relate to it, and my relationship with society around gender since my early 20s. I'd played with gender expression and gender roles at home and in the bedroom, and with my partners, a lot. I was certain that I was not a cis woman, in any case.

But it was at a tech event, where they asked you to choose a pronoun flag to add to your lanyard, where I had a crisis of self, resulting in me grabbing all three flags (she, he, and they) and hiding in a closet for a couple hours trying them on. I couldn't be she, and he didn't fit right; they it was, and they it's been.

And even "they" isn't right, exactly; it's closer than the binary, but it isn't an excellent fit. I'd rather just not be referred to at all; but, that's not really feasible when I have to exist in the world.

Once I'd decided to be public about pronouns, I felt freer to experiment with presentation - not that my presentation had really ever been static. To look at me now, you'd never know I went through a period of high femme, or a seriously goth phase, or the earth mother hippie phase (okay, that one might not be too far of a stretch). But the first time I put a binder on, the gender euphoria was through the roof. I looked in a mirror and saw myself, not a reasonable facsimile thereof.

A few years later, at an organizing retreat, a friend of mine, who was in med school, pointed out that top surgery is a thing, and I meet all the prerequisites for being considered for it. I was fortunate enough to have health insurance that covered it, and a clinic that made it easy - literally got my therapist's letter, meeting with a provider, and a referral to a surgeon in a few hours time. [Sometime later I'll tell you about the experiences of getting top surgery through Kaiser in Portland; but, that's another topic.]

While all of this was going on, my periods were getting more and more painful; and, every month my dysphoria was lasting longer and longer. But the doctors said that it was just because I was getting older; it was just because I was overweight; it was just because I was a vegetarian. Clearly, I can fix my own pain. Finally, after too many hoops, I got a hysterectomy in August 2022. That's another story for another time, as well; so much was involved in that process because nothing can be simple when you're visibly, vocally queer.

And all along, I've thought to myself, "If I ever go on testosterone..."

And one day a couple months ago, I was talking to my partner, and instead of saying "If I ever," it was "When I go on testosterone..." and I realized that I'd made the decision with no input from my cognition; it is something that needs to happen. So, that's coming soon - I have a doctor's appointment mid February, where hopefully the process will begin. "Typically", transmasc folks start on testosterone, then look at surgeries as needed. I went the other way. There is no "right" way for transition to look; doing what you need to do as the opportunity and need arises is what a right transition looks like. Sometimes, that looks like no medical intervention whatsoever; there's no right way to be trans. But for me, my experience has been pretty atypical, at least according to the loose survey of trans folks I know, and medical professionals I know.