Where I continue with an old friend…. she in bold:
“thrilled that you are comfortable where you are!”
…Boobs are bloody awesome.
“..You have the wonderful quality of always being yourself, even as you are evolving. I think THAT is what I saw when we first met, and I am sorry that I did not communicate that to you clearly..”
I can’t imagine being fake. No matter what gender space I occupy.
I might not be politically correct, I may appear rude to some, but I can’t do Fake. I think on occasion that people WANT me to support their thinking, and don’t “react well” when I don’t.
“..In all our interactions, I have had that sense that you are nonbinary, but on the feminine side of it. I did not express this because I was not sure what you were aiming for and I wanted you to have room to explore and discover for yourself…”
I appreciate that.
A former friend basically told me to abandon the idea of Transition, gave me the usual “religious reasons” to stop. At the time, it tore me apart – because I respected her then.
Nothing would have been a bigger mistake.
Yes, Transition complicates our lives.
But we’re complicated – and nothing can change that.
“…I recognized it because for years I was on the feminine side of androgynous even as I continued to gradually blossom into womanhood. I could have “stopped” at any point along that journey (and my spouse would have appreciated this), but each time I removed a masculine gender cue and added a feminine one, I checked myself, and found that as “right” as it felt, I wanted to move further. My “stopping point” is somewhere between “tomboy” and “girly-girl,” so I am comfortable being a Queer Woman with a few dashes of genderqueer…”
This is SO DIFFERENT from what I was told I was, from how I learned to approach life.
But my heart says “keep going, we’re not there yet”
“…Re intersex: yes, I agree with you, AND likewise, I learned that I am XY from my 23&Me…”
There are people that are so militant about us not being a part of their Banana Boat they’re willing to fight pretty hard. We’re “faggots” to them.
But there are many that also occupy this space with us that are demonstrably Intersex and fit into a ‘conventional’ medical classification of same….
“…I am virtually certain that it was DES exposure through 4/5ths of my gestation that put me into the blurry space between intersex and transsexual…”
Mom “took all kinds of things”, but also had two surgeries during my gestation. Stress on the fetus during the pregnancy greatly increases one’s chances of being Transgender. I may be as much a “natural” as a “DES Son”.
“..Whatever anyone can say, I was no more a cis male than I will ever be a cis female: I am transgender, and I am certain that this will be seen to be yet another way to be intersex..”
Once I had discovered the probable reason I never fit into the Binary, I began to see all the many ways I wasn’t male. I continue to see new things.
God calls me “Daughter”.
…that resonates so very deeply with me.
“…Re bisexual: interesting!…”
“…And I can understand that scary bit because I have been asexual/demisexual for all my life..”
I tend to think ALL women are demisexual to a degree.
I’ve always been scared of men to some degree, I think – they were my tormentors all through childhood.
“..and when I got my estradiol levels comfortably into the female range, I suddenly started to have little twinges of interest in both sexes. BUT hormones are pretty profound, and since I generally do not have any testosterone (not even from my adrenals), my interest in sex is lower than it has ever been…”
I’ve been driven like a male all my life – but sex AS a male didn’t ever feel RIGHT. My T is pretty low now – 8-12 ng/dl
When I was on Pregnenolone (200 mg/day for 2-4 years) I was likely driving my T down – I began “guy watching”. That’s only gotten more intense the longer I’ve been on Estrogen. E is in the 600-800 (pMol/liter – IIRC) range.
I’ve woken up thinking about guys – the idea of being on the ‘receiving end’ of a nice guy’s attention is oddly attractive now. Yeah – hormones make us ‘tick’, and no amount of ‘trying to be male’ can overcome that.
Apparently even after decades of testosterone.
I can only bemoan what a waste – other than the birth of two wonderful children – of time that was.