Post transition life

Transition can be an exciting time, as well as a very scary one. Your body changes, a great deal like puberty as you transition to living in your target gender, a process that happens quickly from ones presentation, and quite a bit more slowly inside. For many that never ends, but it has slowed way down for me after a couple of years.

You might ask then, what is life like now. My experience of that is influenced by almost never being misgendered, but there are many of us for whom that is true. It has made that part of my life, and self acceptance much easier.

Even now I think at least a little about being trans, and it’s something I’m aware of, but I have large stretches where I’m able to ignore it. It doesn’t interfere as it did. A good example is the bathroom. Yes, it’s a place where I’m a bit aware and I worry that I’m going to make sonrone uncomfortable at work, where many people know.

By the same token my bathroom habits are now in the right groove where I don’t think about anything but dealing with my physical needs. I think yesterday might have been the first time I was in and out on automatic. If you aren’t trans the bathroom is there, and you need to be engaged to the extent that you find the toilet and the sink, but it’s otherwise pretty unconscious. You can do the whole thing while thinking about life, work or your next meal or continuing your conversation with a girlfriend, something that guys just don’t do. You aren’t aware of how many times you’ve used it unless you’ve drunk a few liters of water.

The days go by now filled with my daily habits. Like anyone else it’s not an exsitance where those are noted and remembered. It’s now unusual to be doing something I’ve never done before, and even when novel it’s often still not notable.

My former state only rarely show up, usually from marketing and mostly in my work email. Even that’s pretty automatic. Hit the unsubscribe button in outlook and that source is blocked. Like I’m going to bother with telling some anonymous person to update my listing for junk email?

On the other hand I was quite annoyed that my social security gender marker hadn’t been fixed. I found that out because the RMV sent me a letter saying the records didn’t match and my renewal required that to be fixed. They didn’t, of course,  do anything as useful as telling me what didn’t match, that required a bit of thinking, confirmed by reading the SSAs guidelines in changing the marker. Happily I have more than one of the primary identification documents that they require. To others, make sure you have a passport, birth certificate or a court order. Nothing as prosaic as your drivers license will do. My passport is the easiest one to carry though…

One of the strangest part of the transition to not being in transition is the big empty part of your life that was devoted to getting there. It can feel anticlimactic and you can struggle to repurpose that energy. But it’s also an opportunity to reconsider where I am in my life, both the happy and sad parts and take stock. It provides room for really examining what I want and what I’m ready for.

For me my next transition will be leaving the world of work. I had dropped to four days a week when I came out; a change that left room for the doctor visits, electrolysis and some restful time too. Now I’m getting ready to drop to three days a week as I need to over the next year or two. I’ll be sixty in August and after thirty five years plus of work I’m tired. Physical manifestations of age, Parkinson’s and my other daily medical companions and my daily three different anti depressants remind me each morning and evening that I’m really and truly not a young person anymore. But I’m grateful for life and that my ailments aren’t more of a burden.

A fall last week may have derailed golf for this season as I wait for my shoulder to recover,. The bruises and the laceration my glasses caused are healing fairly quickly, one sign that I’m physically ok. I’m not sure that I’m really healing any slower truthfully, at least not yet. My skin is still good and my face pretty smooth. All to the credit of my genes, at least some compensation for them screwing me with allergies, migraines and probably being trans.

There are pills for allergies, migraines, depression and such, and being trans is no longer the daily issue it once was. There are unfortunately no pills or quick fixes to replace the lost marriage and the lack of invites to parties from my attenuated and missing friendships. No pills to ease the anxiety and strangeness of having to learn to date again.

Like Robert Frost I took the road less travelled by, and indeed it has made all the difference.


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