"That's Just The Way It Is."

I hear this all the time as an excuse for the way things are, or as a reason for why someone does something: "That's just the way it is." I don't believe I've ever truly considered this a valid reason for anything. It doesn't explain anything. It's an excuse to not know and to not think. It resigns control of your life to the ether, for people who do think to decide what's right and wrong.

I was at a mall last week and I heard someone say this, word for word: "Thinking is hard." We live in a society where is has become difficult for people to think for themselves. They're not used to it! They're used to people just telling them what to do. This happens at home by authoritarian parents, it happens by teachers at school who do the work for the kids instead of having them come to their own conclusions, and it happens through peer pressure in their circle of friends. We wonder why people can't think for themselves, but then we turn around and reinforce it by telling people what's right and wrong.

Well you know what? I could easily be wrong. Everything on this blog is derived from my own personal experiences, opinions, delusions, and feelings. You don't have to agree with anything I say, and you probably shouldn't take any of it away as absolute fact. It could be used as a guide, sure, but what I say is certainly not "just the way it is," rather, it is "just the way it was for me." Everything people say is filtered through a lens of personal bias, opinion, and experiences.

When I was trying to start hormone treatment, my first doctor told me that I had to present socially as a girl for a year before I could be prescribed the medication I needed, and I needed a note from a therapist. If I had resigned and simply said "well, that's just the way it is," then I wouldn't be where I am today.

Everybody says you need a degree and a teaching certificate to become a teacher, and you need to finish college before you can land yourself in a career. I became a teacher before having a degree of any kind, thus proving that that was most certainly not just the way it is, cut and dry, end of story. We like to label things so we can definitively say exactly what something is, but it's not as simple as that. Life is a series of gray areas, not just yin and yang. I found a teaching position that didn't require any of that, proving that my degree didn't matter.

There was an episode of That '70s Show in which Eric Forman says to his girlfriend, "I have to do better than you because I'm the man, and the man's the man, and that's just the way it is." Well you know what, Eric? No, that's not "just the way it is."

I've seen people work themselves into a crippling amount of debt by buying a house and two cars they couldn't afford. They blamed life and said, "Well, most Americans are in debt, so I guess that's just the way it is." No, it's not. You could have avoided it by pacing yourself and not buying crap you can't afford. Yeah, you may have still wound up in debt, but it would at least be more manageable.

That last example does not describe everyone, obviously, because one example does not, in itself, describe an entire class of people. One example does not establish that "that's the way it is."

Christiaan Huygens determined that light is a wave, as demonstrated with the "double slit" experiment. It was well confirmed and acknowledged that "that's the way it was." But Albert Einstein discovered proof that light also behaves like particles. It wasn't as cut and dry as people believed, and this is why science isn't about trying to prove something, it's largely about trying to disprove something.

I hope that this has given someone something to think about. The next time you find yourself saying anything along the lines of "that's just the way it is," try to recognize that by saying that, you've given up on thinking. You've stopped exercising creativity, and you've just accepted something without even having an actual explanation. Just be aware that by choosing the action of willful ignorance, you have given up another piece of your own free will.

My Transition - The Orchiectomy Story

Archived from December 22nd, 2018:

It is done! I have officially had an orchiectomy! I will do my best to describe as much of the process as possible.

Once I was at the outpatient surgery center, we had a volunteer approach me to verify who I was and check off on a list that I was there. We arrived an hour early, but they still checked us in and everything. I approached the main check-in counter and signed the paperwork that says I allow them to operate on me. My co-pay was $15, which I was completely okay with paying up front. They stuck a little identity bracelet on my left wrist after I verified that all my information was correct.

I go to sit back down, but I only manage to get my coat off before someone approaches us and says they're ready to take me to my hospital bed. We walk with her to an area with a bunch of curtain-closed rooms. I take all my clothes off and put on the hospital gown. These things always leave your butt hanging open, but hey, I'm proud of my butt. It's only natural people would want to see it.

There was this fancy space-age blanket on the bed. I get on the bed and lay down with the blanket over me. A nurse came in and verified all my information. We had a little chat and she stuck a vacuum tube thing into my blanket and it puffed up with warm air. Can I have one of these for my couch at home?! She gave me some painkiller medication and a glass of water before she left.

Another nurse came in, verified my information, and told me a bunch of information about the anesthesiologists, which doctors/nurses were in charge of my area, who was going to be checking on me, etc. And then she stuck the IV in my left wrist... I hate IV's, and I made sure she knew that. She stuck some numbing stuff on my wrist to try and make it less awful, but just the fact something is sticking into my vein freaks me out. Honestly, the IV was the worst part of this whole thing. I just tried to pretend I had a cybernetic arm and that made it somehow more okay.

My surgeon arrived and spoke to us briefly. He told us a bunch of stuff I already knew from the consultation visit, and explained to me that they'll be sticking a breathing tube down my throat once I'm out to make sure I stay out. I guess there's a tiny chance of tooth chipping from the removal of this tube, for people with highly sensitive teeth. I wasn't really worried about that, it seemed like something they just had to say to cover their butts.

My mom and I waited for about an hour cracking jokes, and I about fell asleep before the anesthesiologist arrived. She told me what drugs they'll be pumping into me to make me sleep through the surgery, and then they started to wheel me out. Amidst this whole series of conversations, I was misgendered a few times, but each time the people either corrected themselves or each other. I made sure to let them know that I appreciated their correcting themselves so I didn't have to, and I appreciated how often they got it right without any corrections needed at all. We spoke briefly about what my job was, and I mentioned I'm an IT tech for a school district.

When I got to the operating room, I scooted over onto the operating table and they stuck a bunch of blood pressure monitors on my right arm and legs. It was all pretty cold, and I couldn't help giggling as it all touched my skin. It kind of tickled. One of the people in there said if I kept laughing it would become contagious and they'd all start in. I said,

"Well, why not! Let's all have some fun here, the world needs more laughter."

I got a couple of giggles, and the anesthesiologist said she likes my attitude. One of the nurses stuck a mask over my face and told me to breathe in deep. I coughed a couple of times as I was breathing in for some reason, I'm not sure what it was that was irritating my lungs. But as I was breathing in, I was looking all around the room, and I had a thought that I just had to vocalize...

"Hey, you know? I think I could tell you how this entire room was wired. And probably even the names of all these cables, and the ports they plug into."

The anesthesiologist said, 

"Heh, really? That's interesting. Alright, we're gonna get you to sleep now."

I said, 

"Cool, I'm pretty tired already anyway. That'll just make your job easier."

Very quickly, even as I was saying that, my hearing started turning muddy, I began to feel very dizzy, and I gradually got some tunnel vision and closed my eyes. I remember hearing the anesthesiologist saying something about a number that was 4 digits long, but I have no memory of what it was about. 

I woke up in another room 2 hours later. 

I remember some of the first things I said as I woke up,

"Damn, I feel rested. I haven't slept like that in a long time. I should test my brain to see how things are working... To hack a windows 7 user account and remove its password, just go to the system32 folder in the windows folder and replace the utilman.exe with a copy of cmd.exe. Then reboot the computer and click the little button in the bottom left. In the command window that pops up type net user, the username you want to hack, and just put two blank quotation marks. That will erase the user's password. Yeah, I seem to be fine. What? Your medical equipment is plugged in with 9 pin serial cables? That's hilarious!"

I remember the nurse saying something along the lines of, 

"Now, Josie, you're not at work. You should be relaxing!"

"Relaxing? What's that like? Hah! Nah, this is me relaxing... This is fun to me."

As I struggled to open my eyes and gain a better idea of my surroundings, I started to noticed there was some kind of lip balm on my lips. And after realizing that, I started to gain more understanding of the rest of my body. I realized that it felt like there was something missing between my legs, and it felt amazing.

My bed was moved from the first recovery room to the second one soon after I woke up, since I guess I was doing pretty well. They moved me to a chair and kept asking if I felt nauseous, and I didn't. I guess they expected that I would for some reason. I pulled up my hospital underwear, since apparently it wasn't up all the way. My mom came over to the new room and sat down while I recovered. I took off my hospital gown and put my pajamas on. They gave me some apple sauce, which I gladly ate because I hadn't eaten anything since 11pm the night before, as ordered. I also drank a cup of water. They wanted to wait until I could use the bathroom, to verify that I was able to pee okay.

Eventually I felt ready to get up and pee, though I was quite dizzy. I walked to the bathroom holding a nurse's hand, and it was after getting up and walking that I truly felt how there was nothing between my legs. That felt so weird, and I loved every moment of it. As I sat down on the toilet I saw the area, and I started feeling excited for it to heal so I could poke it and laugh maniacally.

I peed just fine, no issues there. In fact, peeing somehow felt easier than usual.

When I walked back to my chair I reminded one of the nurses that I was promised the IV would come off as soon as I'd peed. The IV came off, and I immediately felt much better. God I hate IV's...

It was around this time that I learned my phone was left in the car, so I couldn't write about exactly what I was feeling in this moment... I'm writing about all this the day after. But anyway, after everyone confirmed that I was okay, it was time to go. I heard some nurses talking in the background about me:

"How is she doing?"

"She's doing amazing!"

I guess I was recovering pretty fast.

The nurse stuck me into a wheelchair after we got all my stuff packed up and wheeled me outside to my mom's car. In the car ride I posted a Facebook status to try and make sure I didn't forget some stuff, but I started to realize the phone screen was making me feel nauseous, so I put it down. I was getting really tired, so I tried to sleep in the car as best I could, despite the traffic and scary mom-driving.

That's pretty much everything! When I got home I plopped down on the couch with an ice pack on my crotch and fell asleep. I woke up and ate a buttload of chicken soup and vegetables with toast and baked apples. I was starving...

The Power of Language

Language has a great deal of power. Language can raise a person's heart rate, it can change someone's blood pressure, it can cause fluid overflow in someone's sinuses, and it can incite actions that would otherwise not occur. It can motivate and it can depress.

The line between purposefully painful words and physical action is surprisingly thin. The act of causing mental distress is so often ignored in favor of physical distress, despite the two being directly linked. If our physiological state can be altered purely through communication with language, then that would hint that the mental and physical are one in the same. Harmful communication can cause physical harm, and physical harm can cause emotional harm.

So why is it that emotional harm through language is not treated as seriously as direct physical harm?

Those who doubt the power of language should consider how dictatorships have formed. Did the tyrants themselves directly do all the work, or did they use the nuance of language to get others to do it for them? Would those others have helped if it were not for the power of that one person's language?

How about mental health counselors? They use nothing but language in their practice. It's all just words, and yet those words are healing to their clients. Those words change people's lives.

Lawyers develop arguments that determine the entire lives of their clients, and those arguments are comprised of nothing but words. The fate of these people lie in the way their representative words their arguments in court.

The entirety of our laws were written using nothing but words. The specific wording of those laws are referenced every day during legal battles to determine whose language was more powerful than the other's. Who used their words more effectively?

Language has power. Words have power. And therefore, doesn't it make sense that choice of wording also has power? Wrong choice of wording can make or break a leader, a lawyer, a therapist, a mediator, a teacher...

Since words and language can have such influence as this, why would we use such power as carelessly as we do? And why would we deny the power it holds, despite using it every day and creating evidence to the contrary?

Those who just want to say whatever they want without repercussion clearly do not understand the power their words have over others, or, whether it be through ignorance or denial, even the power words can have on themselves.

It seems very irresponsible and extremely inconsiderate for someone to willfully ignore the impact their words have on others, and for them to deliberately choose to continue using harmful words, despite it being explained to them how those words are harmful.

I dunno, just food for thought. I don't really have a point of conclusion, I'm just thinking aloud. But if by reading this my words have changed your emotional or physical state, then I guess that's a point I mean to prove.

Health Department Phone Call

Here's a phone call I got one day. I think it pretty well illustrates the subtle every-day struggles that trans and non-binary people face.


Me: "Hello?"

Phone: "Hello, this is the Washington State Health Department calling on behalf of the CDC. You have been picked randomly to participate in a survey about your personal health and your insurance satisfaction. Do you wish to participate?"

Me: "Sure, go for it, ma'am."

Phone: "You may cancel at any time, and you have the right to not answer any questions that make you feel uncomfortable. How many people are in your household?"

Me: "Two."

Phone: "And how many of them are men?"

Me: "I guess... None of them."

Phone: "Okay, then both of them are women?"

Me: "Oh, no. Only one of them is a woman."

Phone: "Then the other one is a man?"

Me: "No, the other one is non-binary."

Phone: "... Is this person identified as a man?"

Me: "No, they are non-binary. Neither male nor female."

Phone: "... Let me go check and see how I'm going to put that in..."

Me: "Sure."

[2 minutes later]

Phone: "Alright, let's do this again. How many men are in your household?"

Me: "Zero."

Phone: "And how many women?"

Me: "One."

Phone: "..."

Me: "..."

Phone: "... I'll be right back."

[3 minutes later]

Phone: "Okay, sir, I need to verify--"

Me: "Ma'am. I'm transgender, please call me ma'am.

Phone: "You identify as female, correct?"

Me: "Yes, I am female."

Phone: "And the other household member is...?"

Me: "Non-binary."

Phone: "..."

Me: "And they use neutral they/them pronouns."

Phone: "Sir, I can't..."

Me: "Ma'am."

Phone: "Sorry, ma'am, there's no third option for me to add that option."

Me: "Thank you. And it sounds like you need to add one then! Because non-binary people exist. I live with one."

Phone: "... I'll be right back."

[7 minutes later]

Phone: *partially inaudible* Hello?

Me: "Hello?"

Phone: *signal cutting out* "This...it...thank..."

Me: "Hold on, I can't hear you."

Phone: *cutting out* "Thank you for ... Call, sir. Goodbye."

Me: "Oh... Okay. Goodbye. Sir."

[Hang up]

They actually pretended their signal was cutting out and ended the call. Just like what I usually do to them! Touché...

Helpful Hormone Treatment Info

I found this on Facebook, and it has a lot of helpful information. I thought I'd copy and share it here. Here's a link to the source: https://www.facebook.com/vellumandvinyl/posts/2027475120679222

The only changes I made were to correct some grammar and spelling, and remove some unnecessary profanity.

----------

Tumblr user 8deadsuns:

TRANS WOMEN: HERE'S SOME STUFF YOUR DOCTOR WON'T TELL YOU ABOUT HRT

1. Progesterone: Not for everyone, but for many people it may increase sex drive, and WILL make your boobs bigger. Also effects mood in ways that many find positive (but some find negative). Most doctors won’t prescribe this to you unless you ask. Most trans girls I know swear by it.

2. Injectable estrogen: More effective than pill or patch form. Get on it if you can bear needles because you will see more effects more quickly.

3. Estradiol Cypionate: There is currently a shortage of injectable estradiol valerate. There is no shortage of estradiol cypionate; functionally they do the same thing.

4. Bicalutamide: This is an anti-androgen that has almost none of the side-effects of spironolactone or finasteride. The girls I know who are on it are evangelical about it.

Tumblr user naidje:

@euryale-dreams

Tumblr user joyeuse-noelle:

Are there HRT medications that don’t increase blood clot risk? I’m already at risk because of my blood pressure, and my doctor won’t prescribe HRT that increases clot risk while I’m on the medication, meaning I may never not be on the medication.

Tumblr user euryale-dreams:

Absolutely.

The concerns surrounding venous thromboembolic events as a side-effect of hormone replacement therapy can mostly be traced back to one particular study known as the Women’s Health Initiative. This study was an enormous undertaking which, unfortunately, demonstrated significant adverse effects of the hormone therapies studied. As a result of this, the use of hormone replacement therapy in postmenopausal cis women was dramatically reduced, as the medical community began to question whether the therapy caused more harm than good.

Naturally, trans women have been suffering from this fallout ever since.

What physicians seem to fail to recognize is that the study examined a very specific hormone regimen which was, arguably, outmoded at the time the study was conducted. It examined the use of conjugated equine estrogen (Premarin) with or without the use of medroxyprogesterone acetate. Neither of these drugs are regularly used for the treatment of transgender women.

The estrogen most commonly used to treat transgender women nowadays is 17β-estradiol either in pill form or in the form of a sticky patch that you apply to your skin. Esters of estrogen (e.g. estradiol valerate) are also sometimes used either in a pill form or as an intramuscular injection.

Transdermal estradiol patches are the gold standard when it comes to treating women who are at high risk of a venous thromboembolic event. It simply does not increase the risk of developing a venous thromboembolism. The only thing you should keep in mind is that patches are not always well tolerated because of the lifestyle changes required to keep them from falling off and the fact that they tend to irritate the skin.

Fortunately, oral 17β-estradiol appears to be safe, regardless of the increased risk. At least one large study has shown that the use of oral estradiol in trans women is not associated with venous thromboembolic events. An individual woman’s risk would need to be substantial in order to contraindicate the use of oral estradiol.

For those who have significant risk of venous thromboembolism because they have had a previous thromboembolic event, because they are paralyzed, or because of some other factor it is good to know the relative risk between oral and transdermal estrogen. The latest research indicates that the use of transdermal estrogen lowers your risk of a thromboembolism to 80% of what your risk would be using oral estrogens.

It’s difficult to find hard numbers regarding the relative risk of venous thromboembolic events with regards to hypertension. The best I could find after an hour or so of searching was this study regarding VTE in lung cancer patients. Hypertension increased the risk by a factor of 1.8.

However, to put that into perspective being of African descent increases your relative risk for deep vein thrombosis by a factor of 1.3 when compared to Europeans. Europeans are, themselves, at increased risk when compared to Asians and Pacific Islanders by a considerable margin - a four-fold increase.

I should point out that being ‘male’ is also a risk factor for developing a thromboembolism and hormones are likely to be a contributing factor. Also, menopause is another serious risk factor. Given this information, it is likely that the use of transdermal estradiol will lower your risk of thromboembolic events significantly.

As far as the anti-androgen is concerned, the primary use for spironolactone for cisgender people is as an antihypertensive.

Even if the risk of thromboembolism was truly significant with modern hormone replacement therapy, it wouldn’t justify what your doctor is doing to you. The fact is that mortality in the transgender community from suicide, caused in part due to the lack of access to hormone therapy, is substantial. The quality of life lost when a trans woman is denied hormone therapy is substantial. The fact that your doctor does not appear to be taking this into consideration when they weigh the risk of thromboembolism against not receiving necessary medical care is deeply concerning.

I strongly recommend that you seek a doctor who is more sensitive to your medical needs as a transgender woman.

*Sensitive Content* My Transition - Recovering From Trauma

This is continuing off my introduction post. If you haven't read it yet, click here to view it.

Sensitive Content!

I talk about sexual organs in this post, as well as sexual assault. If you don't want to hear about this stuff, you best skip to the end.

So where was I...

For those who may have noticed, I haven't been very good about catching up on the continuing months after month 13. I was thinking about why I'm having so much trouble with this, and why sitting down and writing, an activity I used to enjoy quite a bit, suddenly makes me feel anxious.

Sexual Assault

I think what it boils down to is sexual assault. As implied in my Month 12 post - I was sexually assaulted that month. 

It's been a bit of a ride recovering from that, even though it wasn't the first time. It was, however, the first time it had happened in which the other person perceived me as female. It was different.

I can joke all I want about how the guy had no idea how to work this bizarre sexual organ that's in my pants. Treating it like a penis was ultimately a failure, and he clearly had no idea what he was doing in his attempt. If he expected me to do any form of penetration, he was very sorely mistaken.

But through those jokes, I'm processing it all. It's sinking in. I joke about it as a means of talking about it, because talking about it prevents it from being completely bottled up. It hurts. I was drunk, high, and asleep, at a St. Patrick's Day party. There's no possible way for me to consent to anything in that state, and the fact that it was someone in my friend group makes it worse.

After that happened I stopped feeling comfortable publicly talking about myself. I didn't feel comfortable showing my body for a while either, wearing thick sweaters and loose baggy clothes that hid my figure. I stopped wearing makeup and push-up bras. My anxiety changed and worsened, and I started having flashbacks to previous sexual assaults. Writing about sensitive details in my life became far more difficult. 

I also had a chain of other issues in my life, including a law suit against my apartment manager, insurance deciding not to cover expensive electrolysis treatment and leaving with a $3,000+ medical bill, and many struggles amidst moving that put strain on my romantic relationship. I have also encountered a lot of painful discrimination, direct and indirect, ranging from people scowling at me to people deliberately calling me a man to my face. There's plenty of chaos to list, but I don't really feel like talking about it in detail right now...

I won the law suit. I'm beginning to recover from the blow the insurance issue did to my bank account. My boyfriend and I are still going strong, and we're now living together. I have a new career as a school district technician that pays more with less stress. Things are getting better.

Catching up...

I would like to be able to say that it will soon be easier for me to regularly talk about my transition in detail on this public medium, but I don't know how long it will be before I feel up to it again.

I have to say, biologically speaking, not much has been changing, to be honest. It's pretty much just more of the same. Breasts continue to fill out, voice still bothering me, facial hair still bothering me, and I still want bottom surgery.

The only major thing that's happened, I think, has been that I have dyed my hair and I have bangs now. And I love my new bangs! I think it further refines and completes my look. This picture is from month 19.

I have just put together a timeline of pictures from before hormone treatment up to just shy of month 20. I'll be releasing that on here at some point.

So rather than continuing the month to month recap, I'm thinking I'll just release bits of information related to individual subjects.

*Sexual Content* My Transition - Month 13

This is continuing off my introduction post. If you haven't read it yet, click here to view it.

Sexual Content Material!

I describe a sexual experience in this post, and talk about the body functions involved. If you don't want to learn about this, especially within the context of my body, you best not read ahead.

Month 13 - April

My spironolactone dosage has been changed back to what it was before, and all the effects I mentioned in my previous post about the dosage change have stopped. My transition is moving forward again! It's such a load off my mind that I'm moving in the right direction again... This has definitely brought to light what it would mean for me to go back, and what it would mean for me to lose access to my hormones. When my testosterone is higher, I feel absolutely miserable, and I don't feel like myself. It feels wrong. I hate the idea that I rely on medication to keep my testosterone down. This is just another thing, another aspect of my transition that makes me want a vaginoplasty. From what I understand, I wouldn't have to worry about these testosterone issues if I got surgery.

My testosterone being lower once again means that my erections are painful, and that the "S shape" has returned. After some experimentation, I think I may have discovered another clue to why the erections are painful: it feels like it's trying to fill with more blood than it can hold, and the S shape kind of reflects that, but what I hadn't noticed before is that the glans isn't filling with blood! I had forgotten that, before my hormone treatment, when I had erections, the whole thing would fill up - the tip would also get harder. But that's not happening anymore! The tip doesn't get harder during an erection anymore, it stays soft and squishy. I wonder if something is blocking the blood flow into the tip, and maybe that's why the pain gets more intense based on how turned on I become.

Now on to the juicy stuff...

During this month, for the first time since before I started hormone therapy, I had penetrative vaginal sex where I was the one penetrating. I had been curious for the past few months about what it would be like now that all these changes have happened, and whether I would even enjoy it anymore. I wondered if I'd even be able to penetrate, honestly. My genital shape is different now, and it doesn't get as hard anymore, not to mention the pain I get from even having an erection. But I suppose, with enough lube, most anything is possible... It's not like it's too big to fit, considering its size has certainly decreased since last time.

It was weird. I'm not used to being on top anymore, first of all. And second, I honestly forgot what I was doing. I did have trouble getting inside at first, and I think that was entirely because the tip aims downward now, so it slips in the wrong direction. Once I was inside, the intimacy was wonderful, but I remember the actual physical sensations to be more pleasurable than it was this time. Because this whole thing was bringing direct attention to my genitals, I started to feel dysphoric, so I tried my best to imagine that I was the one being penetrated. Unfortunately my imagination wasn't quite powerful enough to fool me on this one, since I very obviously could not feel something inside me, and the whole hip movement thing wouldn't work that way if it were the other way around. I remembered back when I used to have trouble with stamina during sex, but here I was this time, having trouble finishing because the sensations didn't feel quite right. It felt like my being inside someone was hitting the wrong spots.

Turns out the shape change was causing me to hit the wrong spots as well, as my partner wasn't getting too much out of it either. I was also very rusty, feeling like I'd forgotten how to even do this properly. The physical closeness and intimacy was very nice, but the sexual pleasure part was just alright. I figured out a good hip movement that I don't think I had ever done before, and that eventually became enough. Afterward we had to finish ourselves again, the way we're more used to doing it, because it just didn't hit quite the right spot.

And so here I am, full circle, having had that kind of sex for the last time. I think it's pretty unlikely that I'll ever do it again, and honestly, I don't think I'll really miss it. That ship has sailed. I've discovered other means of accomplishing what I want in bed, and those means not only feel better, but they don't cause my any gender dysphoria. I'm ready for surgery to make me the one on the receiving end of that exchange. I'm ready for it to be impossible for me to penetrate someone in that way.
 

Grapefruits are amazing!

On a very different note, I've been craving grapefruit this month. It's just so damn delicious! A glass of sparkling water with a shot of non-concentrated lemon juice, and two fresh sliced grapefruits... So good... However, I learned that grapefruit apparently has an effect on various medications. A friend told me about how grapefruit also has an effect on transdermal estradiol patches, causing a potential increase in estradiol levels. Personally, I think I'm fine with that effect, considering it could potentially help with boob growth... I did some poking around online and confirmed what my friend was talking about.

I thought I'd check to see if there were any concerns with grapefruit combined with my spironolactone, and I didn't find anything. I did, however, discover that "licorice counters the effects of blood pressure medications, such as spironolactone." Spironolactone works by blocking androgen receptors, thereby lowering testosterone levels. It also blocks aldosterone, causing an increase of water and salt to be dumped into your urine. Preventing the medication from interacting with the androgen receptors would have undesired effects for me, but I'm curious how much of this medications functions are actually affected by the licorice? If the aldosterone blocking is affected, and the androgen blocking isn't, that would be amazing. Because if it only counters the part that changes my blood pressure and salt absorption, that would actually be very beneficial to me, since my blood pressure being low was the only reason my spiro dosage was lowered before. I have some new questions to ask my doctor! 

I'll bet she's totally looking forward to it. Every interaction with my doctor tends to be quite a learning experience for both of us. Sometimes I feel bad because of how much of a pain in the butt I probably am for my doctor. She's very nice, and she doesn't guilt me at all... But that behind that professional disguise, she must have to take a deep breath before opening my emails, because my research questions must be a handful.
 

A potential change in hormone delivery

Speaking of my doctor, I'm considering switching from my bi-weekly transdermal estradiol patches to weekly injections. I hate needles so much, but I'm getting a little tired of having to replace my patches every week, and the effects the patches are having on my skin is making me concerned that my skin is going to start getting rougher in the areas I rotate the patches. I want my skin to remain soft!

I hear from various people that injections tend to have greater/faster impact, particularly for breast growth, but I'm not entirely sure how they determine the factuality of that statement. Every person has genetics that contribute to varying breast sizes during development, and you can only grow breasts once, so unless they were able to test this on four pairs of identical twins, I'm not sure how they'd be able to accurately establish the basis for a pattern with the results. I can understand seeing a pattern in how quickly things take effect, but to claim that one method causes breasts to develop to a larger size than the other? That seems a bit difficult to test due to the absence of a properly controlled environment.

In any case, I am certainly curious to look into it. Maybe if I learn to do the injections myself it will help me to break my fear of needles a bit. It's not like I need to find a vein, since these are shots that go into muscle tissue. The fact it's not going into a vein would probably help a lot, actually, since that's one of the main issues I have with getting shots. Something about the veins just... Ehh...
 

I'm such a girl...

I'm noticing some moments with my boyfriend lately where I've been particularly feminine. Stereotypically so, in fact. I think I've developed that womanly quality of asking unfair questions. 

I don't know why, but I might randomly ask him if he thinks my hips are wide enough to bear children. I feel an urge, every time I shave my legs with cocoa and shea butter, to ask him to feel it. When I get ready to go out, I often ask him how I look before we leave. I've often ask whether what I'm wearing makes my hips or my boobs look too small. I think you get the idea...

I often recognize that the question I'm asking is rather unfair right after asking it, so I turn it into a joke of some kind to let him off the hook, so he doesn't have to answer. It so strange how my behaviour changes like this, and now that we're living together, I guess I've slipped into acting like a stereotypical wife at times. I need to be careful not to slip into a self destructive behaviour of constantly needing other people's approval on my appearance, to a point where I have no say in my own personal self. Too many women are afflicted by that, and it destroys their own personality when they are unable to stand up and be themselves. I've gotten this far by standing up for who I am, so I'm not going to let this take any of that away from me!
 

Thoughts on body-shaming gender dysphoria

I notice a lot of trans women talk about how various things that I consider non-gendered give them gender dysphoria, and some of the dysphoric things trans women complain about are things that cis women also complain about. I find this kind of interesting, and here are some examples of why... 

First I need to confirm here that I'm approaching these opinions from a place of privilege and bias. I'm white, my family mostly supports me, my workplace supports me, and I've been underweight my whole life. My doctors have actually ordered me to gain weight in the past because of health concerns. So take my words with plenty of healthy skepticism. These are just observations, not facts.

I've noticed many average build trans women fat-shame themselves, and say that their weight causes dysphoria. I have no idea what it's like to be fat-shamed, but men and women are both fat in pretty much the same way. It's just redistributed differently, and, in the case of all of the women I'm thinking of as I write this, hormone treatment took care of that. They honestly look quite attractive, and very feminine. In fact, from a biological standpoint, women have more fat content than men. For trans women, hormone treatment causes more fat content to develop in the body, essentially replacing the muscle content. The boob growth we treasure is two sacks of mostly fat attached to our chests. It even helps to cover up our Adam's apples! We should try to embrace it as being gender-affirming!

Cis women complain about their weight just as much as trans women. Doesn't that kind of reinforce how gender-affirming a problem this is to have? You'd think it would be, but unfortunately, trans women are held to an even higher standard than cis women. We're even harder on ourselves than cis women, because people will typically take any tiny detail about us and use it to claim we aren't who we say we are...

Breast size is another one, as I mentioned before, attributing it to being added fat. Many trans women, myself included, complain about small breasts. We try as best we can to increase our breast sizes. Our breasts are a source of gender dysphoria, because if we were born the way we should have been, we wouldn't be so flat... Right? But look at our mothers... Were our mothers also flat? My body frame is pretty small. I want a B cup, but with this frame, and these genetics, that seems pretty unlikely. And I believe the same would likely have been true if I were born cis female.

Though it may be true that being born with a different set of chromosomes would have affected height and weight to a certain degree, it's not often going to be the difference between being Paul Bunyan and being Barbie. Honestly, nobody could be Barbie... She's physically impossible. There's literally not enough room in her gut for her internal organs, and her bones would be incredibly brittle, considering how tiny her limbs are. Cis women also compare themselves to Barbie, feeling a similar kind of shame. Perhaps not to the same degree, since trans women are held to that higher standard, but it's pretty darn similar. When we transition, we should expect to look like the female version of ourselves, most likely resembling a younger version of our mothers. We can't expect to magically turn into Barbies.

I think another thing at play here is that these trans women aren't used to experiencing the social stress that women have to deal with on a regular basis. Male privilege allows for men to be fat shamed less often, and less judged for their physical appearance. Being a man in our society is honestly a whole lot easier than being a woman in many ways, as women are criticised constantly based on their appearance, their tone of voice, their level of devotion to their opinions, how much sex they're having... There's so much there that men never have to deal with in the same way.

So giving up one's male privilege in order to transition... That can be a really difficult culture shock. As a trans woman coming out, you would be dealing with all the culture shock of being trans in society, all of the flack people give you just for being alive, and it can be really easy to blur the line between what flack is from being trans, and what flack is for being a woman. 

I find that recognizing which things are actually truly trans-related, and which things are social issues that come with being a woman, helps a lot. If I was truly born cis female, I'd probably still be complaining about my small boobs, and I'd probably still have occasional men rolling their eyes at me when I outsmart them.

My voice, on the other hand... That's another matter.
 

My identity is not up for barter

Okay, there's one last thing that comes to mind from this month... I am going to keep this as anonymous as possible by avoiding names and gendered pronouns...

I met with a student and parent one day, and the parent said that their student had supported me directly and indirectly as I've come out as trans, and so the parent thought it was only right for me to support the student as they struggle with their disability.

I maintained a calm voice and demeanor, ignored the fact that the parent had brought my being trans into the discussion, and I showed the parent what I have provided to support the student, and how I intend to be of help. I have every intention of helping this student to succeed, disability or no. By the end of our meeting, I think the parent understood, and saw, that I am in fact making an effort to help.

That being said, the fact that the parent brought my transition into the discussion was uncalled for. I didn't say this to the parent, since I thought it best to remain professional and unconfrontational. I get where they were coming from, and I can see their point of view. The parent lost their cool, and I understand that. People say things that they regret when they lose their cool, and desperate parents will do or say anything to protect their children.

This parent was wrong to imply that my being trans is a bargaining chip. It is not. If there is ever a condition that someone's acceptance comes with a price tag, then I don't want their support. My identity is never to be used for favors. 

Imagine this... What if the teacher were a person of color? And the parent approached the teacher to say that because their student supports the Black Lives Matter movement, the teacher should support the student's disability. That would be considered pretty darn racist, wouldn't it? Because it would be implying that being a person of color is akin to having a disability?

Being a person of color is not a disability. Being trans is not a disability. Respecting someone as a fellow human being should never come with a price tag.

I will help this student. I will go outside of my allotted paid time to help this student. I will do the best I can to help because I care about this student and their development, and not ever because I want something in return. Because that is the decent thing to do, and if I requested anything in return for it, as this parent has, then they would likely be just as outraged as I am right now.

Trans supporters, or any other human rights supporters, should never attempt to extort favors from people through their support. That is morally wrong, and a disgusting form of bribery.


Right side is a picture with makeup, wearing the dress I wore on my birthday. Left side is a video without makeup, because I apparently have no pictures from this month of myself without makeup, and I'm shirtless in the transition picture I took this month, so... No, you don't get to see that one.
I dyed my hair at the end of this month! ;)

You can view the Month 14 post once it's released by clicking here. >>>