Doubt and Dysphoria

Dysphoria is a constant in my life at the moment, but so is doubt of my trans status.How can these two things coexist, I ask myself a lot. I think it’s because the dysphoria is a horribly uncomfortable physical sensation but I can never quite identify whether it is a discomfort with having these parts, or a discomfort with the idea of losing them. This sounds stupid, I know I overthink, and over-obsess about all this, and will eventually end up self-destructing because of it. I’m not comfortable with the body I have, I’m not comfortable with the person that I am, but I don’t know how to change it. I feel like I’m wasting my life in this desperate space between happiness and unhappiness, clutching at straws that might help me sort my life out and feeling as if I fail every time, and maybe as if I don’t deserve to be happy.

‘There’s no point sitting here going crazy on your own’

I need to sort out three parts of that

*sitting here

*going crazy

*on my own

*sitting here

I need to find something to do with my life, I need to stop sitting around doing nothing the whole time, I need to stop my life being this wait to transition, because that’s not helpful for me, or for the people around me. There’s two types of depression, the type that’s caused when I sit and mope about things I can’t change, like transition, and the type that’s caused by trying to deal with stuff I can change, or at least stuff I can change my thinking regarding. That’s the type that I can work with and deal with, because even if it’s difficult, there’s a start-point. For now though, I need to find things to do. I have youth group, kayaking, and am preparing for snowboarding, so it’s not all bad…but… it’s not all good either. I need to concentrate more on my college work I think (he says, sitting writing this in a lesson), and do the amount of work I need to do to maintain my grades, because they’re…important and because maybe focussing on them will make everything else a bit more managable, and it’ll find me something else to do.

*going crazy

Something I make a bit of a habit of, apparantly. Michael, who I now just call ‘dad’ and I are working on how I c an reframe situations that would otherwise have upset me, but we haven’t got very far yet, and I think I find that in itself stressful. I feel as if I need to deal better with the ‘crazy’, the ‘head squirrels’ that actually leave me so battered on a day to day level. What are these? The insecurity that makes me believe that I really really don’t matter, and that nobody could want me in any way. The belief that anyone who appears to care wants something from me. The remnants of tiredness left over from my depression that make me believe every time that I get depressed, I should just cut myself and kill myself. The tiny part of me that still believes I’m nothing but a worthless whore, it’s that instinctive twisted thinking that I need to deal with.

*on my own

I’m not alone, I have a wonderful support network really, but most of it is online, and there’s not so much locally accessible support. I think I need to find myself an older brother type transguy in my local area, so here’s a callout for transguys near the Surrey/Hampshire border, UK

Thanks for reading

J

This idea was sparked off by Kiunna’s wonderful post on “I think trannies worry far too much about passing”.

What is ‘passing’ in a trans* context? I’m trying to work this out for myself. Or, more, I know what it is (being read as the gender you identify as) but I can see two rather distinct problems with it:
*What if you identify as non-binary? People don’t typically think “ah, they’re an androgyne” and address you with the title Mx, or at least, not where I live.
*How do you know when you are passing? It can be pretty obvious, ie if you’re called “sir” or “ma-am” in a shop, but as a transguy I get paranoid that I’m not passing if someone holds a door open for me. It seems to be pretty hard to identify whether you’re being read as male or female most of the time, unless people are helpful enough to tell you. I was about to write how much I wished that English had more gendered words, had three genders, male, female, neuter, but then I thought about my pesky French lessons, and how hard I find it knowing whether I want to use the female ending or the male ending. I’ll argue that there are indeed some advantages to a language where you know instantly if you’re being read as male or female, but I think those might be outweighed by the awkwardnesses.

Sometimes I feel tempted to get or make a t-shirt saying “I’m a goddamn boy” so that at least people can see and know, but that would bring its own issues, that starting to pass has certainly brought – parents. I’m officially out to them, but I’m living as if in the closet due to their reactions, and it’s getting rather awkward when I pass maybe 40% of the time.

It’s also hard to know sometimes how to pass, or what I need to do. Growing a beard might be one way of quickly and easily managing it, but that takes testosterone, and I’m rather short on that in my system. Maybe asking people that know me would help. Since I had a new haircut (a mohawk) I pass rather better, but I think that’s more down to me walking a lot more confidently, and seeming a lot more self-assured, because I have a haircut that screams “look, see?!” and I need to seem vaguely confident to pull it off.

I’m finding this whole being pre-everything lark quite depressing honestly. A lot of my total body-hate has come flooding back recently, even with a wonderful boyfriend that does succeed in making me feel attractive, and I’ve needed a lot of support from him, and from Michael (who I now call ‘dad’). Self-medication was a consideration, but it’s not something I’m going to do at the moment, although I’ll keep it in reserve as an option, I just find that it’s hard to keep going in the same old patterns of being read as female. I’m hoping to re-enroll as male in college next year, as James, but that depends on my parents. When will my life even be my life? I don’t know. Maybe I need to work more on passing, maybe passing instead of failing would help me more.

Thing is, I don’t have any real confidence deep down, and maybe that’s what stops me passing, that I’m too shy, or that I might walk like a girl, or my height, or my voice, or my face shape. Or maybe Kiunna’s right, and us trannies do worry too much about passing

The other day in class, my teacher told me I have a strong voice and that I might wanna be more careful of my tone in the future. I took it pretty hard. Granted, I’d had a pretty bad day leading up to that point, but I immediately started wondering if he knew, if someone had told him, if someone hadn’t told him and he’d just found out, if nobody had told him but he’d suspectd all along because he could see my penis through my pants, if nobody knew and I’d just outed myself  in front of the entire class by accidentally speaking too deeply and ruined my reputation forever. All kinds of stupid thoughts.

I didn’t go back to class after break because I was just too messed up.  The next day my teacher popped me an email asking why I never went back and I told him that what he said about my voice really got to me and he seemed pretty confused about why exactly that would get to me. He didn’t know shit, still doesn’t, and neither does anybody else.

There’s a moral in this somewhere. I’m mostly posting it so I can poke around and see how things work, but enjoy. Also hey guys I’m new and stuff.

To all the older transitioners who tell me I’m doing what’s right

When I came out to myself as trans, I thought “okay, this makes it easy now. I’m trans, everything makes sense, I’ll go on testosterone, get top surgery, and then be happy”. I was an idealistic sixteen, and hoped that it was that simple. Nothing ever is.

I’m now 17, I call myself Jamie online, and by my birth name offline. I’ve been out to myself for a year, pretty much exactly (give or take about ten days), and I almost wish I hadn’t come out to myself.

I really do see how it can be harder for older transitioners to transition in many circumstances, and especially male-to-female, but I fail sometimes to see how that is easier than living a double life, living a lie to keep the people that you live with happy. My parents  haven’t accepted the idea of me being trans at all well, and I’m choosing to live as a girl until I leave college probably. Every week I have maybe one chance to present male, and then I tear myself apart getting dressed as a girl again, because it’s not me. People who barely know me have figured out I’m a transguy, where my parents call it a phase.

It’s not impossible to just live as a girl, maybe surprisingly it’s quite possible, but it isn’t a life worth living, and I’m going to be looking back on these two and a half years as the wasted years when I could have been getting on with my life, but instead spent them stuck in a rut waiting for a chance to get out. Alternatively I could see them as a place where I could deal with my issues.

Issues, yes. I have a lot of them, trust issues, abuse issues, eating issues (minimal, thanks be) and self harm issues, I could use this two and a half years to deal with those, so that I can start life as a well adjusted young man when I get out, but that doesn’t work, not when I go back into this unhealthy environment. Because it is unhealthy, I’ve gone back to being clinically depressed thanks to all of this. I say I can live with it, I can, so if it’s “transition or die” then I have no right to transition, because I can manage without, but that’s not how it works, I won’t live unless I do that.

There’s a lot more support out there for trans teenagers than there used to be. I’ve got amazing friends, and an amazing mentor, but sometimes it’s not enough, especially when people see me as trans before they see me as male, and I just want to live my life as a guy. It’s hard being young, I know exactly what I want and need, but I’m not allowed to go out there and get it, because I’m too young, so I’m left in this limbo instead.

I’m an intelligent boy, I would be looking at going to one of the best universities in the country if I hadn’t let being trans take over my college work, if I didn’t spend this whole time in a funk about not being able to be who I am, or at least not being able to be him, and have a managable life. I know things would be a lot harder if I forced coming out, I’d probably end up on a friends floor, but I’ve reasoned that that’s not going to work for me, that I’m not someone who could function so dependent on anyone for everything, and that I just have to do my best.

Sometimes, it’s easier just to stop, and think of how lucky I am, that I can live my whole life as a man, but often I can’t even do that.

This is a letter to all those older transitioners who keep telling me that it’s easier transitioning young.

It’s not easy

Jamie

For those of you who read my writings, you’ll find this one is different than others. It’s not insightful, or humorous, or ranting about something or other. It’s simply about a situation I’ve found myself in within the last few months.

You see, I’ve been mentoring a young FtM friend online for several months now. He lives many, many miles away, in a small, unaccepting community. Over time, I’ve become quite “attached” to him. Don’t get me wrong, as much as I love this young man, I don’t let my emotions gush all over the place. I am firm with him, but understanding and supportive. I show him tough love at times, and other times I reach out across the miles and wrap my virtual arms around him when he needs to be held.

He’s not quite 18, and is a very sad situation at home. He lives with his mom, who is, well, let’s just say “mentally unstable”. The circumstances are volatile. His emotional and physical well-being are at risk on a daily basis. He has absolutely no support locally from any transgender men. I’ve looked, others have searched, and if there are FtMs in his location, then they are so stealth they are unfindable. He is totally alone in his trans existence with the blessed exception of the online world.

His birth father has never been a part of his life, and he has mourned this loss for years as well as craved for the existence of a man who he could call “Dad’. Over this time of constant, almost daily correspondence with him through emails, IM’s and his personal online diary that he shared with me, he came to look at me like a father.

And I, my friends, have found a son. A beautiful young man so full of energy and life, but it’s all trapped inside him because he’s not had a safe place to let it out. A boy with honesty, sincerity, and open-mindedness, and one who is so much wiser than his years. Yet again, unable to show these virtues to the world, because he is trapped in this situation called “youth” with a manipulative, unstable mother who has everyone around her wrapped around her proverbial little finger.

I will be bringing my son to live with my wife, Lillian, and I in the next 1-3 months (once he’s 18 and dependent on decisions about school). He’ll have a home, with support and love. He’ll have many wonderful transmen for fellowship and support, as I have been blessed with these men in my life here in Phoenix.

He’ll be finishing school, finding a job, getting medical assistance. He’ll be doing chores, not staying up all hours of the night playing on the computer. He’ll be attending every single FtM meeting, group, and get-together there is here in Phoenix. He’ll be able to begin his physical transition to become seen as the man he and I know that he is. He’ll learn what it is to go to work even when he doesn’t feel like it, and he’ll keep the job even if it sucks, until he’s found an alternative. He’ll learn how to budget, and how to save. He’ll learn what priorities in life are all about.

He’ll “hang out” with another young man I mentor locally, as I’ve introduced them and they correspond online. They are a few months difference in age. They are both just starting out in their journeys to manhood, and have each other to lean on. My local boy is newly on testosterone, and will be able to share the joys of being with someone else just starting out.

Most of all, he’ll learn that he is loved, and that he is a worthwhile person. He’ll learn that he is not responsible for the wrongdoings of others, and be released from the guilt that he’s taken upon himself because of them. He’ll learn that he is not a freak, that he is a beautiful person with much to share and give to others.

I look within myself, and I see how far I’ve come, how much I’ve grown, since I began mentoring these two young men, and corresponding with others like them. I look at my involvement with TransYouth Family Allies, and I see how much I’ve changed. For a man who never wanted children, never spent any time with kids of any age – to having a passion, a fire burning inside, to wanting, no, NEEDING, to support these young men and others who are just beginning their lives in their true genders. To see them have the opportunities and chances that I didn’t have.

I have seen so much of myself in them, so much of the pain of my own youth, and I cannot imagine NOT being there for these kids. They need nothing more than someone to love them, to support them, to give them tough love and to hold them when they cry. They need someone to respect them as a person, as the individual they are, with their own thoughts and feelings and pressures around them. Someone who will be proud of them and say so, instead of laughing in their face, or kicking them out of their home.

I can’t save all the kids in the world, but I can start with these young people who have ventured into my life, and hopefully give them the tools and the means to grow into young adulthood, be happy in and of  themselves, and proud of who they are.

Seize the day!
Michael