6 Months HRT

March 4th was my first day of HRT, and today marks half a year πŸ˜€ I came out on Facebook within days of starting HRT, so this is also a six month anniversary of fully embracing my true self, and living my life as I’ve always wanted. I guess the big question is how are things? Things are good πŸ™‚ …Mostly. Time for a review, some of this is retreading previous blog entries but I feel it’s important to take stock periodically. 

I have so far experienced no outright negative responses, for which I am incredibly grateful. Most responses have been more positive than I could have hoped. My mom’s been great, as she’s always been. Dad being cool about things was a bit of a surprise, and I’m glad to say I’m closer to him now than I’ve ever been. 

My younger sister is a rock, and hasn’t so much as batted an eye about any of it. My older sister has downs syndrome, although she doesn’t quite get it she’s accepted that I’m going to be wearing dresses and calling myself June now. My extended family is welcoming and supportive, once again more so than I ever would have imagined.  I’ve have some some amazing heart to heart conversations with my cousins over the last few months, its been great to be able to talk about things that used to feel guilty even thinking about. 

My friends have been amazing, last night I went to a girls night put together by a woman I’ve known since high school. It’s one of those things that makes me appreciate the cost of isolating myself. A lifetime believing that no one would ever like the real me, mainly because I didn’t like me. Then the walls come down and I realize I’m an ok person, and I have friends who actually do like the real me.

I’ve been attending church whenever I can. It’s a bit odd, as a child I couldn’t stand going to church, I was bored out of my mind the whole time and wanted nothing more to go home and play video games. Now I look forward to it, I love the people and the space, I feel genuinely welcome and accepted there. Also there is an element of nostalgia, I grew up in a religious family and it’s comforting to be in that environment. 

Work has been very supportive, though until my paper work goes through I still have to identify myself as Dave on the phones. This is becoming increasingly frustrating, and has led to a few amusingly awkward exchanges. “Sorry what was your name again… Oh..”  “Wait, I’m sorry but you sound like a girl.” “Did you say Stacy? Mavis? Whatever.” “Have you been sick recently? Your voice sounds really soft.” Every one of these has made me smile πŸ™‚

I am becoming emotionally invested in my wardrobe. I love my many dresses, I don’t have enough blouses and tops, my shoe collection is mostly flats, purchased because they happened to fit. And boots, I love boots. I currently have two pairs, one of which barely fits, but they look great so whatever. Fall is approaching, and this idea of a seasonal wardrobe is a bit new to me, but I can’t wait. Before everything was t-shirt and jeans, adding in a warm coat if the weather was bad. Now there’s so much to choose from, and I hardly know where to begin. 

Depending on where I am and who I’m with my comfort level in public continues to fluctuate, but I’m definitely a lot better than I was in the beginning. That is to say I can now put on a bit of makeup, jeans and a t-shirt and walk around the mall by myself without having a panic attack. I haven’t used gendered public washrooms since living full time. This means making sure I go before leaving the house, and being very conservative with drinks. I normally drink a lot of water, but when I’m out I have to be careful to only sip enough to wet the inside of my mouth. Outings are limited to about four hours, when I’m at the office there’s a gender neutral washroom I can use. 

Physical changes continue at a glacial pace. My hair covers the back of my neck, my fat is redistributing and my nipples are sore pretty much all of the time. Actual breast growth is negligible. Without clothes or makeup I look like a man, I kind of hate looking at myself in the mirror immediately before and after bed. There have been times I’ve needed something from the store but I looked like an absolute mess. Sure I could throw on some clothes and head out the door, but I will either go without or spend twenty minutes getting ready. I’m really not a fan of boy mode these days. 

And here’s where we get to the not so great. It’s a tricky subject to dance around, as it involves my ex, who we will call Lady. She doesn’t like it when I mention her in my blog and normally I try to respect that, but I’d be lying if I said her absence doesn’t affect me. I hurt her in ways I can never make up for, a relationship would be impossible at this point and not something I would consider even if it wasn’t. The thing is it’s rare for me to let people get close, no one has been closer than she was. It wasn’t rejection so much as incompatibility, but any way you slice it there is a hole in my heart.

The truth is I am pretty lonely, despite what some have suggested there hasn’t been anyone else. I’m not at all interested in starting a new relationship at this time, and I’m not interested in casual hookups. Loneliness is something I’m used to, and things and much better now that I can express my true self to the world. A relationship with someone was never going to work out so long as I was in the closet, intimacy is impossible without honesty.

To answer a question my Father asks regularly, am I happy? Well who knows what that even means. 2014 was the best year of my life, but my secret was like an anchor on my happiness. Now the anchor is gone, and 2015 is certainly one of the most interesting years I’ve had. There have been some amazing moments, experiences that I never thought possible. 

I can’t explain it, believe me I’ve tried all of the explanations, many of which are printed in my blog, none of them get the idea across to people that haven’t dealt with the issue themselves. But God help me I love it, I love being a woman, being seen and treated as a woman. I wish I’d done this years earlier and kind of envy the kids who have the courage to be themselves at such a young age, in spite of all the garbage thrown at them. For anyone considering transition all I can say is you have to do what’s right for you. For me I’m glad to be free, and could never go back to the way things were. So yeah, I guess I’m happy πŸ™‚


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