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On Identity

Although I am happy about my referral to Daventry GIC, I’m also mourning the loss of part of my identity. Until that moment, I had thought myself proud to be non-medical. And suddenly, I wasn’t any more.

I still don’t want testosterone. I still don’t want top surgery (yet). I want a diagnosis of gender dysphoria so I can get a shitty piece of paper off the government. I want vocal coaching so that I don’t sound freaking preposterous every time I open my mouth. But I’m still going.

I know it doesn’t mean anything. It’s like a virginity or a gold star. But to me it was who I was, and who I never will be again. It makes me fearful of who I will be.

I’ve always maintained that transition is not a medical journey. Because I have been on this path now for a third of my life, and there are still so many things I have had to learn and overcome. Part of that, I suppose, is dealing with the fact that transition is not always a straightforward journey from A to B.

Trans people tend to wince at the words “op” or “sex change” because it tends to imply that it’s easy, that it’s like flicking a switch- one day A, the next B. But transition isn’t a shopping list either. It’s not counselling, hormones, top surgery, bottom surgery, done. It’s confusing.

I had a nightmare that I went to Daventry and they wrote a scrip for Nebido without asking me whether I wanted it or not. So then I had this incredibly powerful piece of paper sitting in my pocket that I neither wanted nor knew what to do with.

On the one hand, I want to validate my identity by being a Good Trans Person and taking my medicine. After all, other people are desperate for that opportunity, and I should be grateful for it. On the other, of course, the irreversible side effects of T are not something that I, personally, want, and I don’t want to feel pressured into doing it.

Not to mention the small question of the fact I desperately want to remove any trace of my being legally female, and that if I refuse to take T (like trans men are supposed to), it’ll make for a difficult question at the gender recognition panel.

All this fuss over what is, to me, a minor biological anomaly. Can’t it just be overlooked?

I’m sure as my referral progresses, I’ll have a more cogent idea about how I feel about all this. But right now? I’m tired. And I’m sure I’m not the only person on this ridiculous waiting list who’s at least half-grateful for the time to clear their head.

About Big Rook

Chess coaching and events in the north-west of England

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