Transgender Dysphoria Blues

Your tells are so obvious
Shoulders too broad for a girl
Keeps you reminded
Helps you to remember where 
You come from
     Transgender Dysphoria Blues,
     Against Me!
     (lyrics by Laura Jane Grace)



(with apologies to Laura for absconding with her title)

Some days are better than others.

Some days...you really don't want to know.

It's always there as a baseline.  On one level or another, I'm always aware.  Sometimes it's as simple as the way I walk.  Other times it's the fact that my natural hair is thinning...I know a lot of that can be blamed on losing it three times when being treated for cancer, but it's also a bunch of hormones I don't even want in my system that are systematically causing my hair to retreat to the hills.  It's the angularity to my face...even though that is changing somewhat, and I am seeing more and more of me in there instead of a masque.  It's always the shoulders.  Always the chest, even though I have naturally occurring breasts that are not disappearing with my weight loss, which I find as some small comfort.

I'd say it's my hands, but I have tiny short fingers, so...meh.  My hips definitely...but maybe less that when I get rid of that belly fat.  It's definitely them, because I have such a disconnection to them that it borders on...I don't know.  I hate them, and want them gone in the worst way.

And I have to take the slow path, and do everything right, because of my 'history.'

I can't dive in the deep end of the pool.

I have to wade in fro the kiddie side, and do what the doctors tell me.  And get my letters, and spend my hundreds of dollars to change my name, and everything else.

You want them to notice,
The ragged ends of your summer dress.
You want them to see you
Like they see every other girl.

The thing is, I'm never going to be 'every other girl.'  I'm generally OK with that.  The people who matter think of me that way, and it goes some way toward assuaging the feelings I have about things.  They encourage me, support me, love me.  They watch me experiment, watch me playing with makeup like a 13 year old (since I never did growing up) and learning the ropes, and encourage me and give me tips...and occasionally ask me how I did something, which is cool.  They occasionally help me with clothes, which is so huge you have no idea.  They've volunteered to go with me to get my first bra, to my first appointment with the actual doctor I want to see.

And those are down the road.

And for a week now, I'm back in the I can't bare to look at myself in the mirror state.

So I take my mood stabilisers and my antidepressants, and I talk to people, and I ride it out.  As best I can.  With loads of tears, mostly, and a lack of energy to even do my nails to make me feel a little better.

It hurts.

It hurts in a way that is really indescribable, because there's nothing really like it.

And it sucks.

(Transgender - Courage by iMcQueeni)