Letters to a Surgeon

Won't you please,
Please tell me what we've learned?
I know it sounds absurd;
But please tell me who I am.

-- Supertramp, The Logical Song

I can has two letters of recommendation for surgery! =D

As I wrote before, I was having a tough time finding someone for my second letter, as required by the WPATH Standards of Care (and more importantly, as required by my surgeon). I'd collected a couple of suggestions from trans friends and called a few psychologists, with no luck. Among those I'd called was one prospect, a Dr Beckstead, who was out of town. I waited until he got back in near the end of June to leave a message, which he promptly returned a few hours later. He said that he had experience working with trans clients and writing these letters, and that he'd be glad to meet with me. W00t!

I had an appointment with him on July 7th, and he was awesome! He was very courteous, kind, patient, and a great listener. For some reason, I'd expected a battery of dry evaluation tests, with ridiculous questions questions like, "How often are you angry?"

Instead, we sat and chatted casually for an hour about my transition, the ups and downs I've experienced, my emotional state during various stages in my life, etc. The hour flew by, and by the end of it, I'd rambled off my entire life as it relates to my gender. He told me he'd be happy to write a letter for me, and agreed to have it ready the following week. I picked it up on the 14th, and... wow.

I expected half page or so. This sucker is four pages long, and recounts nearly every detail I shared with him, but in a more cohesive, less rambly way. It's really interesting to see a summation of so much information about myself. Even though much of it is a direct interpretation of what I'd told him, being reworded and peppered with his observations makes it feel slightly surreal, like hearing a recording of your voice for the first time and wondering, "Is that really what I sound like to other people?" Even though none of the information is a secret, the letter feels very intimate, and makes me realize just how much I expose my naked thoughts and feelings to the world. I'll cherish it always. =)

My regular therapist told me long ago that she'd be happy to write a letter if/when I decide to have surgery, so I also set up a recent appointment with her to go over the details. I hadn't seen her for the better part of a year, but most everything I had to share was good news, so the session had the odd feeling of catching up with an old friend, then paying her for it. =P

She offered to mail her letter, and it arrived on Saturday. Her letter is much more what I expected, basically just an overview of our therapy and her recommendation:

Dear Dr. Bowers,

This letter is in regard to [Vivienne]. Vivienne is a male to female transsexual woman who I have been treating for Gender Identity Disorder (GID) since March of 2009. [Vivienne] has been on hormone replacement therapy since July of 2009; she has undergone a legal change of name and gender marker and has been living full time as female since April 2010.

I have spent many clinical hours with [Vivienne] addressing issues pertinent to her gender identity and transition. I am confident that she is psychologically and socially prepared to complete a surgical transition to female. [Vivienne] has considered all aspects of gender reassignment surgery and will continue to live a productive and emotionally healthy life as a woman. Therefore, it is my recommendation that she be considered for further medical or surgical procedures as she wishes.

For the sake of completeness, I've also included some of Dr. Beckstead's letter below. I've pared it down to around 1/2 the original length, but it's still pretty long, I wouldn't blame anyone for thinking it's TL;DR and skipping it. ;)

Dear Dr. Bowers,

This letter is to document my assessment of Vivienne and my recommendation that she is eligible and ready for male-to-female sex reassignment surgery (SRS). My evaluation is based on 1 individual evaluation on July 7, 2011. After this meeting, I was confident in making this recommendation. Vivienne has also met with another local therapist, who is highly competent in gender-identity issues, starting in March 2009 to the present. Regarding Vivienne, she is 29 years old, employed, and married, with no children. My overall impression of Vivienne is that she is intelligent, thoughtful, warm, sensitive, easy-to-get-along with, independent, practical, and confident about her choice of SRS.

History of Gender Dysphoria & Sexuality
[Vivienne] describes herself as an awkward, emotional child that never felt right being who she was... She was never into sports but also never interested in “girlie toys” but building toys. She would always play female characters in video games, not only preferring the identity but also being attracted to the character’s characteristics. She sees herself as always having feminine mannerisms and that people considered her to be homosexual or the “gayest straight boy,” which caused her to question and explore if she were gay. She relates that this focus on sexuality clouded her exploration and acceptance of being transgender.

She describes always feeling out of place in men’s locker rooms and bathrooms and never using the urinal. She hated gym class because she would be forced to change in front of people and would often leave her shirt on while swimming, always feeling awkward in her body but never understanding why.

She recalls that a pivotal time for self-acceptance and identity was when she worked in the Philippines for six weeks in 2008. Transgender issues were more prevalent, obvious, and accepted. This compelled her to do research for a couple of months on transgender issues, which helped her “put the pieces together” and realize that transitioning was worth the risks of social rejection. This process led to her talking with her then girlfriend, which Vivienne describes as emotional because her girlfriend was afraid of losing her. However, once her girlfriend realized the possibilities of staying together (her girlfriend is bisexual) and that Vivienne would be happier, both were okay with the decision and she has been supportive ever since. They married in September 2010.

Vivienne describes having slight “bi-tendencies,” open to the idea that she could be with a man if she met one with whom she fell in love; erotically and emotionally, however, she states that she has always preferred women and does consider herself a lesbian. She relates never being sexually aroused or interested in female clothing or going through a cross-dressing phase of buying and purging clothing. She describes herself as “not that girlie of a girl,” and typically wears jeans and a t-shirt. She has never been interested in wearing feminine-typical clothing because she believes women can wear what they want and still be a woman. She does relate how thinking of her body as female, especially being able to have sex and interact the way she wants as female, is arousing. In her words, “It’s never about the clothing but about the expression of myself through my body that is important.”

Overall, she describes feeling uncomfortable about her body, although less now because she appears female, but she feels “squeamish, weird, awkward” when she does think about her current genitalia and knows that she would be happier and excited with “the correct body” and wants “everything to match.” She is considering breast augmentation but wants to give hormones more time to have an effect. She is also determined to eat better and exercise more.

She states that making the decision for SRS has been difficult, mainly because of finances and her concerns about its effect on her wife and their relationship. She reports exploring and evaluating the risks of surgery, especially with concerns about having a good sex life and sexual sensation, but she states that she sees herself having more fun and pleasure with the correct body.

Social Support, and Current Life Stresses
She describes her relationship with her wife as equal, where both can discuss and resolve issues, and her transition has strengthened their relationship. They can lean on each other for support. Vivienne also states that she has not lost a single friend or family member’s support.

Current stresses for Vivienne include saving money for surgery and a house and managing any guilt about putting her wife under this pressure. Vivienne states that she also worries about body issues and what people think of her (e.g., has she offended someone).

Mental Health History and Status
Vivienne reports that she has suffered with anxiety and depression since childhood. Vivienne sees herself as independent and able to “deal with it” on her own. Vivienne describes having strong emotions but also strong logic that help her maintain balance.

She describes her anxiety as worrying too much about what people think and feel, trying to please them, and then blowing things out of proportion. Her depression was strongest when she first came out and feared its impact on others, which involved breakdowns of wondering if she was doing the right thing. Vivienne states that since her transition, her depression has gradually disappeared as she expresses who she is more: “Not needing to pretend has helped a lot.”

Overall, she states that her sense of independence and responsibility can become to extreme and turn in to anxiety. Vivienne considers that she will always be anxious but has learned to manage it better. Ways that help her to cope currently include expressing more with people who care, processing issues with her wife, and using reality as a check-and-balance.

Summary
Vivienne demonstrates the capacity to understand anticipated physical, emotional, and social changes and drawbacks associated with SRS. She is realistic about the changes that can and cannot occur through SRS. I consider her eligible and ready for SRS because she has consolidated her gender identity in the last 2.5 years during her use of hormonal therapy and full-time, real-life experience. She is highly supported by her spouse, family, friends, and job. Her mental health is stable and she does not suffer from any self-abuse, psychotic thought patterns, severe psychological or personality symptoms, or impaired decision-making skills.

These are letters #4 and #5 that I've had to acquire throughout my transition, the first to start hormones, and the second and third for changing my legal name and gender, which shows the kind of crazy hoops we trans folk have to jump through. =/

Anywho, everything's coming together nicely. Now I just wish I didn't have six more months to wait! ><

Freedom and Acceptance, a Rant

"We are a family that should stand together as one,
Helping each other instead of just wasting time;
Now is the moment to reach out to someone, it's all up to you,
When everyone's sharing their hope, then love will win through;
Everybody's free to feel good,
Everybody's free to feel good." 

-- Rozalla, Everybody's Free

Forgive my need to rant. I just found out that a trans acquaintance committed suicide over the weekend. =(

Sadly, this kind of thing is not uncommon. I hear about murders and suicides of trans people all the time, and it horrifies me. Though I didn't know them well, the fact that I knew them at all makes it hit home that much harder. I hope they're at peace.

I won't pretend to speak for this person, and there may have been any number of difficult things going on in their life which caused this. But I do know that all-too-often the fear and pain of rejection is what drives many of our community members to take their own lives. Nobody deserves to feel so out of place in this world that they're forced to leave it.

As a very open trans person, I often come out to new people during the first few times I meet them (so long as I feel relatively safe). I do this mainly because I'm a control freak. If I tell everyone, I'm not left to wonder "who knows?", and it's that much more difficult to use the information against me.

In these situations, I nearly always hear "Oh wow, I would have never guessed!" or "When I met you, I couldn't tell at all." These sayings are a well-known cliche among the trans community, and they're sometimes even considered rude or insulting. After all, what makes anyone feel that they should be able to tell? And is being able to tell somehow bad?

Personally, I usually take it as a compliment and try to smile, mainly because the people saying these things probably have good intentions, and probably aren't thinking about the deeper implications. But I also smile because these phrases are a guilty pleasure for me. Passing does provide privilege, and I am constantly aware of it. When I walk down the street, or in to a public establishment, or meet new people without strange looks or harassment. Much as I hate it, the words "I never knew" say to me, "Nobody knows. You are safe."

But passing as one gender or the other should not be an indicator of acceptance. Further, passing should not be a measure of personal safety and freedom.

Many people put off expressing their true selves for years, decades, or even their entire life, because they are afraid. Afraid of the reaction, of how they'll be treated. Before I even came out to Erin, I weighed the very heavy possibilities. Is it worth the risk of rejection to be myself? Is it worth losing any number of my friends and family, my job, or even Erin? Is it worth becoming one of the worst treated minorities in the country? We hope for the best, but we must plan for the worst. With being true to myself on one side of the scale, and possible social rejection in every form on the other, it was the most difficult decision I've ever made.

Acceptance changes lives, and I feel so extremely fortunate, grateful (and sometimes guilty), that I am as loved and accepted as I am by so many people. Scary as it has been, being appreciated as myself has kept me from thinking about suicide for a very long time. Whenever I feel strong enough, I try to use this acceptance as a platform to show others that we exist, and that we only want what everyone else wants.

Still, I am usually more open about being a lesbian than I am about being trans. Though both identities leave Erin and me prone to all sorts of discrimination, the public's treatment and understanding of trans people is still leagues behind. =/

I'm ever so thankful to live in a country that lets me choose what to do with my own body, and in a time when the world is slowly coming around. But freedom isn't just about the law, who gets to serve in the military, who gets to marry, and who is theoretically protected from discrimination (though these are very important steps along the path). It's also about the personal freedom to be ourselves; to express our thoughts, feelings, and personalities the way we'd like without fear of retribution; to love and be loved; to not be shunned or hated for simply living the only way we know how.

We've come a long way, and it's an exciting time to be alive, but we still have a long way to go. And none of us will ever be truly free until we all are.

Updates on Electrolysis, Surgery Prep, and the HRC CEI

"Easy now, hush, love, hush;
Don't distress yourself, what's your rush?
Keep your thoughts nice and lush;
Wait.
Hush, love, hush, think it through;
Once it bubbles, then, what's to do?
Watch it close, let it brew;
Wait."

-- Wait, Helena Bonham Carter as Mrs. Lovett (Stephen Sondheim's Sweeney Todd)

The updates are slow(er than usual), because life is simple and relatively routine. That's probably a good thing.

Another two hours of electrolysis down. I've started doing sessions every two weeks, instead of one, to allow some time for the dormant hair to cycle back in. We're still doing about 30m at the beginning of each session to re-clear my face, and the rest of the time on the lower area. So far I've logged just under 5 hours on my face, and about 6 hours down below. My electrologist still leaves the room while I change in to the towel skirt thingy, but it seems like a silly ritual at this point. All other pretense is gone, and she doesn't even pretend to keep me covered any more. =P

My insurance won't cover a physician checkup until August, so I'm still managing the pain with just an Ibuprofen or two, but I'm considering calling to ask if my doc will prescribe some EMLA (numbing cream) over the phone. Some electrolysis sessions, I feel like I can take about anything, and I almost fall asleep while she's working. Other days, the pain consumes me, and I start getting visions of that one Fight Club scene ("I tried not to think of the words 'searing', and 'flesh'." "Stop it! This is your pain."). =P

Speaking of surgery prep, I've still got a lot to do in the next few months. Besides electrolysis, I need a psychological evaluation and two letters of recommendation from therapists (one being a PhD/MD), I need to get HIV testing, and I need to work with my endocrinologist regarding my pre- and post-op changes to my hormone regimen.

The most pressing of these is probably the letters. My primary therapist has agreed to write the first, but I'm having a hard time finding someone with a degree and familiarity with GID to write the second letter. I've been calling various people suggested by trans friends, with no luck so far. I'm sure I'll find someone to write it; it's just another thing I want to get out of the way. =)

As I mentioned before, my set SRS date is in February 2012, but I'm on a cancellation list for November. When I scheduled, there were a lot of personal advantages to having my surgery done in November, but those pros are slowly being overwhelmed by the possible advantages of waiting until the scheduled date in February.

The Human Rights Campaign (HRC), a major organization focused on the advocacy of BLTG rights (you've probably seen their bumper sticker logo: a blue square with a yellow "=" sign), releases a Corporate Equality Index each year. Basically, companies volunteer to send in a survey and information about their TGBL-related policies, and HRC scores each company on a 100-point scale. My employer has consistently gotten 100 points each year that they've participated (2009, 2010, and 2011).

As of 2012 however, HRC is changing the criteria by assigning 10 points for having trans-inclusive benefits-- health insurance that covers GID therapy, hormones, surgery, etc. Since my company seems pretty proud of their CEI rating, I've informed the powers-that-be that we are in danger of losing our 100, unless they add an inclusive insurance option by the end of this year. They definitely listened, but I probably won't find out what they've decided until around November. It's an off-chance, which is why we've been saving and planning for paying for it ourselves. But as the date approaches, waiting three more months for even a small possibility of saving twenty-thousand dollars is sounding more and more worthwhile.

We've also found out that Erin isn't eligible for family medical leave through her work until she's been there for a year, which will occur in January. She gets 40 hours of PTO a year, and at the moment, she has to save every minute of it to be able to go to Cali with me in November, which really isn't fair to her. Finally, waiting until February means the date is no longer uncertain, and gives us that much more time to settle the funds.

I was really looking forward to November, but logic dictates otherwise, and I think (hope) I can deal with waiting just a little longer.

By the way, if you want to see the CEI ratings, here are the 2011 results (ratings start on page 38):
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC-CEI-2011-Final.pdf

And a few previous years:
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC_Corporate_Equality_Index_2010.pdf
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC_Corporate_Equality_Index_2009.pdf
http://www.hrc.org/documents/HRC_Corporate_Equality_Index_2008.pdf

Does your company participate? What's their rating?

On Electrolysis and Saving Money

"Money, get away;
Get a good job with more pay and you're okay;
Money, it's a gas;
Grab that cash with both hands and make a stash."
-- Pink Floyd, Money

I had my third hour-long electrolysis session yesterday, and started genital electrolysis in prep for surgery.

The bits of remaining facial hair are being cleared faster and faster. The first session took about an hour, the second took 40 minutes, and this latest only took half an hour. Each time, everything that's visible is cleared, but since hair grows in stages, the dormant hairs have to be cleared in successive sessions. Still, it should take less and less time from here. After zapping my face, we used the remaining half-hour to do a test patch down below.

I was terrified. The pain worried me a little, but mostly I was nervous about the idea of it. I don't hate my body, but I'm not exactly comfortable with it, either. Fortunately, my electrologist has experience with doing genital electrolysis for trans women, which does help ease my mind a bit.

She gave me a fluffy skirt wrap with snaps on it, asked me to wrap it around my waist, then left the room. I followed her instructions, and she came back a few minutes later. She worked like a masseuse, using a towel and the skirt to cover everything except the spot she was working on. For some reason it seems easier to handle a little square patch being exposed. My anxiety went away pretty quickly, but starting the surgery-prep electrolysis also caused the reality of surgery to settle in a bit. After all, this is the first concrete step I've taken in getting ready for SRS.

For the pain, I've been taking ibuprofen before each session. It only dampens the stinging of each zap a little, but I think it keeps the pain from building up as my skin gets more and more tender, and that helps a lot. I'll probably look in to getting some EMLA, which is a topical numbing cream, though I'd need a prescription from my physician to get it.

The pain from the genital electrolysis was... different, and difficult to explain, but the patch she did was not nearly as painful or annoying as when she does my upper lip. Being able to talk and distract myself while she works makes it much easier on me as well; I have a hard time sitting still and quiet for very long. Unfortunately, pain-wise, the worst is probably yet to come.

Hopefully, it will only take around 10-20 hours to clear what I need for surgery. Most surgeons (including mine) do a follicle scraping of the skin graft between removing it and replacing it, but they can't get everything, so most also recommend clearing certain areas of hair before surgery. Personally, I'd rather be safe than sorry, since it can't really be cleared after surgery.

I've also been thinking more and more about cost recently. My electrologist charges $50 per hour, which is pretty average. I looked up how long it takes most trans women to completely clear their face of hair with electrolysis alone, and most sources say it takes about 200-300 hours (though some people manage it in 100, and some have taken 700+ hours). If we go with the low average and say 200 hours, that's around $10,000 on electrolysis.

I spent about $1,300 on laser. Even if clearing the remaining facial hairs with electrolysis takes 10 hours, I will have saved $8,000. Not to mention the 180 hours I got to spend doing anything other than enduring the pain of electrolysis. Even if it had only cleared 1/6th of my facial hair, I would've come out ahead.

There is a lot of heated (no pun intended) debate over the effectiveness of laser, and I know that it's not for everyone, and that it doesn't work well on every skin/hair-type. But for those who are good candidates, and who can find a good price, I think it's worth trying. Of course, take my advice with a grain of salt, as I think you should with any advice about hair removal. =)

Speaking of saving money, my surgery fund is coming along!

I crashed my car a couple of months ago, and the insurance company called it totaled and gave me a check. Since then, I've been carpooling with Erin, and I've been considering saving that money for surgery, but I don't think that's really feasible. I've made Erin late for work a few times, and her work is not very lenient with tardiness, not to mention the fact that her schedule may change at any time. The tension over sharing a ride is only mild right now, but another year of this would probably be a different story.

We've been expecting a tax return of a couple-thousand dollars for a few months now. I filed (our first joint return! =D ) back in February, but after a few weeks of not hearing anything, I got worried and called the IRS. The rep I spoke to said that due to my name change, there was a delay, and that we'd get a notice by mail if we needed to provide more information. Since then, I've been nervous about being audited, or that they'd reject it because we're both legally female, but I just checked my bank account and there was a deposit from the US Treasury. W00t!

Including the tax return, but not the insurance money, we have about $18,000 saved, with between six and nine months (six is if there's a cancellation in November) to bring that up to $22,000. Thinking of other things that money could go to is a little depressing, but it will be worth it, and I'm excited to think that we may actually be able to save up the money in time. =D

Blending in, For Better or Worse

"I'm just a face in the crowd,
Nothing to worry about,
Not even trying to stand out;
I'm getting smaller and smaller and smaller."
 -- Nine Inch Nails, Getting Smaller

I've been passing a lot lately, which is nice. Everywhere I go, I get "miss"ed or "ma'am"ed by strangers, including on the phone and voice chat (which was my original voice goal- w00t)! I'm so happy to be talking online again, even if I still get nervous that I'm talking too much, or that I may slip back in to my old voice when I get excited.

Passing is pretty important to me, mostly because I like being able to blend in. Being perceived as female also means that I don't get harassed in bathrooms, and puts the control of when, how, and if I tell people I'm trans in to my hands.

I once read an interesting question: "If you were the only person left in the world, would you still need to transition?" My answer would be a definite "no." To me, transition is an act of moving from one social box to another. If I were the only one left in the world, I wouldn't need to fit in to either box, but I'd still look/talk/act a lot closer to how I do today than how I did two years ago.

Unfortunately, we live in a society that is very focused on the gender binary. I've learned to walk a fine line, as I think many people do, between what's truly me, and what's societally acceptable for my gender. The difference between trying to do this as a male, and trying to do this as a female, is that I feel much more comfortable now.

Over the last year, and especially the last few months, I've continually tried on new aspects of appearance, personality, speech, etc. I try a trait to see if it feels like me, if it's passable, if it's sustainable, then I either adopt it, or toss it in the bin. I like to think that I'm speed-learning the things I may have learned growing up, had my life been a little different. I also know, of course, that I have a long way to go, and that my presentation will always be improving.

It's interesting, all the subtle differences in how strangers look at me and talk to me since I've started presenting as female, but there are two changes that stand out the most.

First, people open doors for me everywhere I go.

And second, random people give Erin and me dirty looks at the slightest sign of PDA. Erin has no problems with it, but it's taken me a long time to get used to. Of course, when I appeared male, nobody had any problem with us. Now, the only thing that's really changed is my appearance, and suddenly they don't approve. If they only knew. >=D

Showing my ID is also getting more and more awkward. Sometimes I warn people that "it's the wrong gender". Most people just furrow their brows a bit and move on, but a few weeks ago at a bar, the server declared "This isn't you."
I replied that it was indeed me, though "I know I looked a little different with the goatee."

"Oh. It is you."

Of course, the fun part was then explaining the confusion to the friends of friends I was with.

I've started figuring out all the paper work for a legal name change. (Thanks Dexter for helping me out!) The first step is to get certification from the sex offender registry that I'm not in it. From there, I basically just fill out a whole bunch of forms, and schedule a court hearing. I'm excited, because it will take a lot of worry and hassle out of life, but at the same time, I'll miss those opportunities to bring attention to my trans status.

I feel like I'm reaching a turning point. Just as I'm learning to like identifying as trans, and beginning to consider how much I have to offer the T community, even just by being out and being me, I can also see how easy it would be to put this behind me and be a "normal" girl. I can understand why a lot of transsexuals choose to move to a new place and start a new life. Even though I knew from the beginning that I couldn't do that, I don't blame them in the slightest.

Personally, I hate keeping secrets about myself, and I'll probably always be out, but how active I want to be as an advocate is a question I've yet to answer.

Utah Pride, 2010

"Won't explain, or say I'm sorry.
I'm unashamed, I'm gonna show my scar.

Give a cheer, for all the broken,
Listen here, because it's only..."
 -- My Chemical Romance, Welcome to the Black Parade

This last weekend was the Utah Pride Festival.

This was only my second year attending Pride. Last year, I watched the parade and wandered the festival with friends; this year I was much more active and involved.

On Saturday, Erin and I attended Utah's first ever Transgender March, which was awesome. Apparently we had around 100 people, which is much more than most of the people I talked to had predicted. Hopefully they'll do it again next year, as I'm sure it will only grow from here. They held the Dyke rally and Trans rally at the same time, which made me sad, but I have to go first and foremost with the T. The great part about the way it was done is that the two marches were able to join forces at a mid-point, along with the Interfaith Pride March, and then head down State Street in droves. George also met up with us at the mid-point, and was even sweet enough to hold a sign that said "Trans Fabulous" high and proud for me.

I wish I'd planned a little better, but by the time the marches ended, I only had about half an hour until my shift in the eBay booth, and I was 9 city blocks away from my car, which had the eBay shirt I needed to wear in it. I took off towards my car while George and Erin headed for Trax to get home. I only ended up being about 10 minutes late, but the heat and the huge hill our capitol building is on just about killed me.

I'm very much a nighttime person, and I've never done well with the heat. Add to this that hormones have killed my internal temperature regulation, and that I haven't had my hair this long in years, and it isn't hard to conclude that I probably shouldn't even leave the house on a hot summer day.

On Sunday, Erin and I marched with the eBay folks in the Pride Parade, which was a hoot. We blasted Weird Al's "eBay", and handed out eBay temporary tattoos to everyone and anyone.

Erin and I, waiting for the Parade to start.

The eBay parade crew.

The back of the "I AM" shirts say "eBay", but the front seems to imply other meanings on its own. ;) 

Handing out free stuff to the crowd.

Fortunately, I gave myself plenty of time before my booth shift this time, so after we were done with the parade, Wifey and I wandered over to Beans and Brews and zoned out on their comfy air-conditioned chairs while sipping iced mocha and iced chai for about an hour.

Next, we decided to wander the festival. The festival is great fun, and it's so nice to be in a place with so many people who don't care who you're holding hands with, but it's also pretty commercialized. Half the booths are selling jewelry or shirts or potpourri or who knows what, and most of the others are promoting a cause. We ended up skimming past most of the booths, and only lingered at a few of the more interesting ones, such as the "Gender Zone", where they had a great timeline of the history of gender variance.

This time, the Erinkins decided to just hang out with me while I helped out at the booth. We had silent auctions, with the proceeds going to charity, and for the most part I just helped people who wanted to bid and kept an eye on the goods, which at least kept me out of the sun. Unfortunately, I think it also kept me out of the occasional breeze. Even though my shift was only a couple of hours, by the end of it, I was zapped.

George met up with us again, and we went out to dinner, where I got to feel sweaty, gross, and stupid at a nice Japanese restaurant.

I'm very grateful to my love for tagging along and supporting me. Overall, I had a lot of fun, met some great people, and had a lot of good experiences where people were surprised to find out that I'm not a genetic female, but I ended up very emotionally and physically drained. Next year, I will definitely pick my battles more carefully, and try to hit up more shows, parties, celebrations, and other things I can passively enjoy. ;)

Voice Classes

"Cause sometimes,
I said sometimes, I hear my voice

And it's been here,

Silent all these years."

 -- Tori Amos, Silent All These Years

Egads! Has it really been a month since I've posted? And did I really just type "Egads!"? Bleh. I guess I should talk about the voice classes I recently finished while it's still semi-fresh in my mind, as much as it annoys me.

When I was still early in transition, voice classes were one of the things "on the list" that I definitely wanted to do, since hormones don't change the voice for male-to-female transpeople. Back then, I researched it the way I research everything: with the interwebs, but I couldn't find any. I know there are at least a few local speech/voice therapist/coaches, but I don't know if any of them work specifically with trans people. At the time, I was still afraid to tell even complete strangers that I was trans, which stopped me from ever calling and asking.

After a while, I put off the idea in favor of other things, and just practiced here and there on my own. I also did a lot of research; I read and watched how-tos, I learned about speech-patterns, pitch, resonance, vocal chords, and so on. I have a lot of the technical knowledge, but even with all that, it can be difficult to put it to use without someone to tell me if I'm doing it correctly.

A few months ago, I got an email on the Pride Center mailing list which said that a licensed speech therapist would be doing voice classes specifically for MtF trans people in March/April/May. I excitedly emailed the teacher to find out more about it, and she quickly replied to tell me that the class was $70 per person, and that we would work on expanding vocal range, flexibility, expression, pitch, resonance, intonation, "feminine" language choices, non-verbal communication, etc., via modified Fitzmaurice voicework, which is apparently something originally designed for actors. It sounded perfect, so I mailed a check.

A few days later, she emailed me to let me know that she received the check, when and where the first class was, and to bring workout clothes, a yoga mat, and water. Wait, what? Eh, apparently she incorporates yoga techniques... I wish I'd been informed of that earlier, but oh well, I decided to go anyway.

The class was only eight people, and I already knew a couple of them from elsewhere, which was nice. The first class ended up being mostly strange yoga-type positions, trying to find a "tremor", which was supposed to "shake up the voice". It was odd, but I figured that it was groundwork, and that I couldn't really judge its effectiveness until after the rest of the technique was revealed.

A few weeks/classes later, and we were still doing the same thing. What's worse, she never definitively tied these exercises in with the voice. Sometimes she would go back to vaguely explaining something about loosening up the voice, or show us a picture of the various tendons in the human body that run between the feet and the throat, still without giving us a definitive tie-in.

Eventually we moved in to learning about the muscles that control breathing, and how to be aware of them, which at least felt a little more relevant. It wasn't until around class 5 that we started learning some exercises for expanding vocal range, and experimenting with tone and such, yet we were still spending around 2/3 of each class doing stretches. By the end of class 6, I wasn't sure if I wanted to come back, though I kept reasoning that perhaps I'd learn something big in the last couple of classes that would make it all worthwhile. From class 7 on, we finally stopped doing any of the yoga stuff, and it suddenly felt like she was struggling to catch up.

To make things worse, there were supposed to be 10 classes, but she wasn't sure if we would have the venue for the final class or not. We were supposed to find out at class 9, but I forgot to go that day, and realized afterward that I didn't feel badly about it, so I didn't bother finding out about the last week.

Maybe I'm being a bit harsh... I'm only semi-pissed about the money, as it's a lesson learned, but I feel like it was the time I spent there that was the big loss. Oh well, some would say I have too much time on my hands already. ;) I hope the other people in the class felt better than I did about it. A few people had to rearrange their schedules and even bus to get there each week.

I think I've gotten my voice to a fairly androgynous place through my own practice. My current voice is usually enough to be passable in person, but my main concern is on the phone and online video games, where my voice has to represent me without the visual reinforcing. In games is the only place that I don't tell everyone about my past, mostly because I don't feel like constantly explaining, and because people online can be extremely cruel.

A friend recently asked if I'm afraid that I'll sound fake. I do worry about that (to be fair I worry about everything), but I know that practice will help make it sound less fake, and people can just deal with it in the mean time. I do get a lot of compliments on my voice, so I must be doing something right. Erin also says that it "freaks her out" when I accidentally switch to my old boy voice. I guess it's just going to take time. At least now that I'm fully socially transitioned, I practice every day, whether I like it or not. ;)

Telling Erin's Family

"Breathe, keep breathing,
Don't lose, your nerve.

Breathe, keep breathing,

I can't do this, alone."

 -- Radiohead, Exit Music (For a Film)

*sigh*

I've been meaning to write for quite a while, as usual. For the same reasons that I really want to write, it's also been hard to find the time.

Between coming out to Erin's dad two weeks ago, planning our wedding, voice classes, planning work transition, and hanging out with old and new friends and family more in the past three months than in the whole previous year, sometimes I'm surprised I find time to breathe. It's good, but it's scary; I'm not used to my life being like this, and I always feel like I'm forgetting something really obvious.

I like to be aware of things. As long as I'm aware of everything, especially my own faults, then I can correct them or decide not to feel stupid about them ahead of time. The current pressure makes me worry that I'm losing awareness of details, like I could have something horrible on my face all day, and not notice. *sigh* C'est la vie.

Where was I? Oh yeah-- Erin's dad and stepmom took the news really well! Erin really loves her dad, so I think keeping this secret has been hard on her. That she loves him is also exactly why we were afraid to tell him. I was so scared that he was going to take it badly, and that I would blame myself.

We went to visit them with the intent to get it over with. When we got there, we skirted around it for a while, trying to find the right situation, which never comes. Suddenly, they started searching around the internets, and saying they wanted to see our FaceySpace profiles.

Me: *sinking feeling, tugging on Erin's arm* "Say something!"
Erin: "So... we came here to tell you something... [my old name] is transgender."
Dad-in-Law: "Ok, so? Why does that matter?"
Me: "It doesn't really matter, but it was still important that we tell you."
Dad-in-Law: "That makes sense... Listen, I may not agree with it, but as long as Erin's ok with it, it's fine."

The "I may not agree with it" caveat is always weird, but that's for another time. With the way they were going after our FB profiles, I'm pretty sure they knew ahead of time. I find that parents are often more clever than their children give them credit for.

They asked a few questions about it, which is always a good sign of acceptance. With the air cleared, we decided to stay and play a few rounds of Rummikub. Erin slipped back into calling me "she," and by mid-game, her dad picked up on it and started using female pronouns as well. At one point, Erin left the table to use the restroom, and he told me "You know, you can call me Dad." =3

I'm surprised I didn't write about it before, but the rest of Erin's family has been similarly accepting. Her brother was one of the first people we told, and he was actually excited for me. We told her sister last summer, and her mom, stepdad, and other brother in December. The last three even took us out to dinner to celebrate our engagement.

I thought people were supposed to hate their in-laws? If this is a dream, please, don't pinch me.

Transgender Children on the Dr Oz Show

The Dr. Oz Show recently aired this segment about trans kids. Thanks for the link, Mel!


(If you're interested, Part 2 is here.)

I'd never heard of Dr. Oz before this, but the show was surprisingly respectful and well done. I usually watch these programs and wince, for fear that the host will make the trans folks look like a sideshow.

What do you think? Is it okay to delay puberty until the child can make a more educated decision? At what age is a child old enough to start irreversible surgeries?

Engaged!

"But there never seems to be enough time,
To do the things you want to do,
Once you find them.
I've looked around enough to know,
That you're the one I want to go
Through time with."
-- Jim Croce, Time in a Bottle

Today, Erin and I are officially engaged.

I haven't talked much about Erin here in the past, mostly because I didn't feel comfortable putting her on the spot. That sort of thinking is honestly silly, since she agreed without hesitation to stay with me through transition, and has never been ashamed of me. I just tend to feel like she doesn't know what she's gotten herself into, like I have to protect her from the prejudices of the real world, and sometimes I forget that all too often she's the one protecting me.

Four years ago, I saw Erin's profile on MySpace, and was attracted by three things: her gorgeous picture, her nerdiness, and the word "androgyny." I told our mutual friend that I thought Erin was cute, we began talking, and the rest is history.

I won't lie and say that we haven't fought from time to time, or that our relationship has never been rocky, but I believe one major thing has held it together: trust. I have never in my life felt as though I could trust another human as much as I trust her. She has integrity, of a type that I never thought I would find.

Erin was the first person I came out to, about 14 months ago, and though it was hard for her to accept at first, she has always supported me. We've talked about marriage many times over the last few years, but I have a major fear of permanence, and knew that we didn't communicate as well as we should. Over the last year, we've been forced to work together and support eachother in entirely new ways; out of necessity, our communication skills have grown, and we have become closer than ever.

With our relationship becoming stronger every day, I realized that the only excuse I had left was my fear. If there is one thing that my transition has taught me, it's that the things I'm most afraid of can also be the most worthwhile, as long as I'm willing to give them all the effort and energy they deserve.

This realization, along with the fact that we won't be able to legally marry after I change my legal gender, placed an urgency on the subject. A few weeks ago, we again started talking about marriage, about who would propose to who, about how we should go about it. Last week, we made plans to go to the jewelry store together. Later, I found out that Erin had been preparing a romantic proposal with a Ring Pop, to be replaced at a later date, and I almost wish she would have gone through with it; I would've bawled. ;)

Last Saturday, we picked out matching solitaire diamond rings, then held our breath for the next five days, as we waited for them to be assembled. Today, the rings were finally finished, and we "made it official."

As an aside, the person that helped us at Shane Co. was great. Being a transgender woman, in a "lesbian" relationship, with a low budget, and living in Salt Lake City can be a scary combination sometimes, but he was completely professional. He listened to what we wanted, he gave us options without trying to upsell us, and he never once acted like anything was abnormal or out of place.

The rings are beautiful, simple, and effective. The glint catches my eye from time to time, and makes me smile uncontrollably. We haven't set a date for the wedding yet, but we're discussing it, and it probably won't be that far off. Thanks to everyone who has congratulated us so far, it means a lot to have the support of so many friends and family!

Most of all, thanks Erin, for loving me unconditionally, and wanting to grow old with me as badly as I want to grow old with you.

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.

Funerals and Family

"Some of us fall by the wayside,
And some of us soar to the stars,
And some of us sail through our troubles,
And some have to live with the scars"
   -- Elton John, Circle of Life

My grandma died last week, and yesterday I went to her funeral.

I've always sort of wondered how well I'll deal with death. My dad's parents both died when I was very young - I barely remember his mother. I think the last funeral I went to before this was for my dad's brother Bill, and that was... almost twenty years ago.

It's odd, because I'm such a mix of both strong emotion and strong logic, plus the fact that I've recently started on hormones, which I'm still getting used to; For the most part I've noticed that my range of emotions is similar to pre-HRT (Hormone Replacement/Reassignment Therapy), but I think I snap from one emotion to another more quickly.

Control Issues

"All the people slip away,
Despite connections I have formed.
In my struggle to be human,
I feel more and more deformed."
-- System Syn, Beneath the Sand

I've escaped my shackles only to find myself in a larger cage.

I'm supposed to feel less anxious, damnit!

It's been almost a year since I put the pieces together and realized what they meant. Eight months since I told anyone else. Seven months since I started doing something about it, and since then I have done a lot.

I tell myself that these are relatively short time periods, and I am honestly very proud of myself for continuing to do what I know is right for me. I feel elated with the progress I've made, and that's exactly the problem.

The Story so Far

"When everything is going wrong,
And you can't see the point in going on,
Nothing in life is set in stone,
There's nothing that can't be turned around."
-- Garbage, Androgyny

Hi! I'm 27 years old, I live in Utah, my favorite color is blue, and I am transgender.

To give you the basics, I was born physically male, and while I don't think that I truly identify with either "traditional" gender role, I feel more female than male internally. I will not ask you to agree with this. All I ask is that you keep an open mind and make as few assumptions as possible, and I will gladly answer any questions you have. Questions, as I've really learned in the past few months, can be a great sign that people care.