The Biggest Decision I've Ever Made

"This is life,
What a f***ed up thing we do,

What a nightmare come true,

Or a playground if we choose,

And I choose."

 -- Offspring, I Choose

Transition has been one set of objectives after another... hair removal, various stages of coming out, therapy, hormones, bathroom issues, work. My life has turned in to a strange series of stepping stones, which I think the rest of the world calls "goals". I have no clue how "normal people" go about their lives like this; I have no idea how I've done it for the past year, but it has definitely improved things for me.

With the bulk of work transition successfully behind me, the next life steps I'm looking toward are marriage, and a legal name change, but I keep asking myself, "What's after that?"

I guess I don't know why there has to be a next step, but it feels like there should be, and I never really planned this far out. Suddenly the road forks in big ways, and I don't know which forks to take.

I hate decisions, especially big permanent decisions. When I was a kid, I came up with all sorts of rationalizations for why my decisions were not important, just to make it through the day without anxiety attacks. Some day I'll write several posts just about all the life "rules" that I came up with during my teenage years, and still use, but for now I'll spare you by sticking to the ones about decisions:

• If I can't decide between two or more options with a reasonable amount of information and time, then all options must be nearly equal, and I may as well just pick one.
• If time and space are infinite, then my decisions are infinitely unimportant.
• If a decision can be undone, and doesn't cause permanent harm, it's ok to try it just to try it.

Unfortunately, the decisions I need to make now are bigger than anything I've dealt with before. Especially with regards to "the" surgery. Rule C above doesn't apply, since it can't be undone. B isn't much comfort now that I'm emotionally invested in my own future (I know, what a weird concept, but it is surprisingly new to me). And A, well, it somehow doesn't seem appropriate to flip a coin or Rock-Paper-Scissors for this one.

Don't get me wrong; if Sexual Reassignment Surgery (SRS) were cheap, with safe and predictable results, I would do it in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, surgery is expensive (around $15,000-$20,000), and comes with many risks and possible complications. For a young and relatively healthy person such as myself, the risks are lessened, but extremely scary nonetheless. This is a major surgery, after all.

There's also the timing issue. Due to the Standards of Care, I can't have SRS until I've been living "in role" for at least a year. Shouldn't this make the decision less urgent? It would, except that $20,000 is not pocket change, and I've failed to save more than a few thousand in the last year. If I want to do this, I'm going to need to start saving aggressively, and even selling a lot of the nostalgic junk I've held on to over the years.

It would be nice if insurance covered any of the cost. The American Medical Association's House of Delegates passed several resolutions in 2008 asserting, among other things, that Gender Identity Disorder is a serious medical condition, that treatment is not "cosmetic" or "experimental" but is medically necessary, and that denying coverage is discriminatory. Most insurers however, go right on with their blanket policy exclusions, or statements that GID is a "pre-existing condition". Of course, I know that's not why most insurance companies don't cover GID. They don't cover it because they don't have to, even though its low prevalence means that paying these costs would likely be much less impacting to their bottom line than most seem to think.

Most reassignment surgeons are also booked anywhere from six months to a year out at any given time, which means I need to know whether or not I'll have all the money quite a while in advance of when I actually have the surgery.

I want the surgery. I know that it would make me feel a lot better about myself, despite the fact that it may only ever matter to me and one other person. In the end, I have to acknowledge that my fears are the biggest thing stopping me, and flying in the face of those fears has gotten me too far to stop now.

I decided a couple of weeks ago that I will definitely be getting the surgery, it's just a matter of when and how. As much as I hate to, I will probably eventually have to ask for some help. For now though, I'm going to see how far I can get on my own.

Telling Mom

"I can’t say that you’re losing me,
But I must be that which I am,
Though I know where this could take me,
No tears, no sympathy."
   -- VNV Nation, Epicentre

I've been talking a lot about wanting to come out to my family, and I'm happy to say that I've finally done something about it!

A month or two ago, I found out about National Coming Out Day, which is October 11th. I tend to procrastinate a lot, so I decided that setting that day as my goal was a reasonable way to pressure myself to do what I want to do, and tell more people.

Seeing Through the Fear

"And now I think I am alive,
And that I see reality,
But the truth behind my mind,
Is your insecurities"
   -- Dub FX, Rude

Fun fact about being trans: I wake up every morning feeling like I must be completely insane.

Maybe I should back up a bit. Stick with me if I wander, please.

I've said before that the reason I like the word "transgender," is that it allows me to continue finding a definition for myself, but this is really only part of the story. While it's true that I don't like to be confined to boxes, the main reason I like the word is that I am absolutely terrified of failure. If labeling myself as transgender has the least specific meaning, then it has the least expectations to live up to.

"Transgender" covers a lot of gender variant groups, most of which I don't identify with, and some of which I don't even understand. It includes crossdressers and transvestites, who often retain some form of identity matching their biological gender, but temporarily take on aspects of another. It includes drag kings and queens, who exaggerate gender cues for fun or entertainment value. It even includes those who like to genderf'ck, mixing cues from both genders in order to break down the social binary.

Though none of the above fit me in any major way, there are other terms that I do identify with, including "transsexual." A transsexual identifies with a different sex / gender than the one they were assigned at birth, and seeks to remedy this by taking steps to change their body to match their mind. Like most things in the trans community, the word transsexual changes its scope and definition depending on who you talk to and when.

Many people want to pin down the meaning of transsexual, and remove it from the transgender grouping, out of fear that the medical community will stop supporting us if they suddenly realize how little GID (Gender Identity Disoder) really follows any rules. Some people want to abandon the term completely, since it seems to imply that this has to do with sex, when in fact there are transmen and transwomen of every sexual orientation. More on these subjects later, I'm sure.

My therapist once asked me as a session was ending, "Would you say you're a woman?"
To which I replied "If I felt free to say anything I wanted, yes."
She told me that I could say anything to her, and I just smiled and left, knowing that's not what I meant, but not knowing how to explain it. What I'd meant was that I was afraid of how the world would look at me if I went around saying how I feel.

This journey has a lot of uncertainty, and though I knew the risks when I began it, this is, without a doubt, the most difficult thing I've ever done in my life. I, who don't do anything without being sure of success, am going through this without knowing how it will turn out. I, who value personal connection and identifying with other people above almost anything else, am risking alienation. I, who have never moved to a better state, out of fear of losing contact with people, am risking burning bridges.

Yet, after waking up every morning with so much self doubt, I still know that this is what's best for me. Why? Because of the excitement I feel with every step forward, that I am finally becoming myself. Because I can see with my analytical mind, that I am not changing myself, I am correcting a wrong. Because I know, though it took me a long time to understand it, that I am female inside.

So please, though I know my body still doesn't fit the part, and it never truly will, forgive me if I call myself a girl. It may sound crazy to you, but it keeps me sane.