Testosterone Steps.

For those of you who have been following me on here you’d know that I’ve been on and off with not knowing whether I want to transition or not and for thos ewho don’t know, I have been struggling with my own mind regarding if transitioning is seen as a best fit for me or not.

I keep going back to the decision of taking testosterone and furthering my transition. For a really long time, I was just fine with simply getting just top surgery, but now I’ve decided that I’d like to go ahead and take the proper steps towards taking testosterone.

I booked an appointment with my doctor for next week to get some papers signed to get testosterone approved by the government.

Even if it isn’t approved and I have to pay for it, I’ll be happy either way. Although I’m not on testosterone yet, just the idea of it excites me more and more everytime I think about it. I know that taking testosterone and even getting top surgery won’t always be happy and a bowl of cherries, there will be ups and downs just like every other thing that goes on in my life. But this is what I’m taking into consideration and not just pushing the down sides away.

Advertisements

For the majority of my bus ride home, I’ve been contiplating telling you something that you probably already know. I’m not sure what mom has told you or hasn’t told you yet, but I wanted you to hear certain things straight from my own mouth.

Please bare with me as this is really hard for me to say outloud, hence why I’ve written these words out.

I want you to know that what I’m about to say, may come out hurtful for the both of you…. and that isn’t my aim.

I’m sure you know, but I identify as a transman. Which is a person who does not identify as a biological woman. I personally don’t believe that I was born in the wrong body as I know quite a few people believe that they themselves were. I feel it in my soul, that I am not entirely female and I’ve openly identified this way for almost two years if not longer.

This isn;t something that sprang on me over night. this has been an up and down battle for me and i wouldn’t be struggling to tell you guys this if it wasnt true.

i’m going to be starting the process of hormone therapy and so you’ll be seeing some physical changes and some emotional changes… but that doesn’t mean i wont be your child… i’ll be the child you raised, but a bit altered to fit my mind.

i don’t expect you guys to come around right now and call me male pronouns and the name people call me, but i’d like to thinkt hat you will try to eventually.

i’m preparing myself for the worst, with whatever follows this. my arms are always open for you two, always.

Back Burner Mental.

I’m sorry that my mental healt is such an inconvenience. But this isn’t any different. Maybe I could learn to not react as strongly as I do at all the “wrong: times, but I need you two, more than you know.

This isn’t just going to go away, simply just by sitting down and talking with people who already made it clear that they will never support me. That’s why I hate it when people tell me that family will come around, and maybe some people’s families do come around, and maybe I could be worse off, but this is already my version of “worse”.

It’s getting to the point where I’m realizing that most of me is just confining myself to other people’s perceptions. I get it it’s not something easy, it’s not something that can happen over night. But I’m just as confused as you are if not more.

I’m the person you raised, just altered. I’m your daughter who is now your son…. atleast in my eyes. I have support, but not by many family members and it hurts when I say that I’m going to have to cut out family and all you say is “do what you need to do”…. why can’t you just come around? Why can’t you just call me male. I’ve been mostly gender fluid mostly my entire life and now that I’m trying to actually be upfront and in the open about it, I’m being shut down.

People tell me to step into your shoes and try to see what it would be like to have a child who’s transgender or who is just simply being themselves. I’d like to think that even if I hadn’t gone through what I’ve gone through, that I’d try to understand what my child goes through. I’d like to think that I’d still love them with open arms and a steady heart.

Maybe you will come around, I’m just tired of feeling like I deserve this. Like I deserve to be told that I’m someone I’m not and just the thought of being introduced to people by the pronouns I grew up with, rather than my actual pronouns and name, actually hurts me more than the reality of it.

I love you, I probably always will. But sometimes Love simply isn’t enough. I’m tired of putting my mental health at risk. For anyone but myself.

Vulnerable Senses

Song I listened to while writing this post:

Heavenly Father – Bon Iver Cover by Milo Bloom

Slowly sensed it, went past the                                                                                                                                                   point of returning atleast with a steady mindframe

Quickly started seeing, trapped in                                                                                                                                               my own space invaded with what-ifs

Here I am, after it happened, smothery                                                                                                                                 and vulnerable at it’s finest hour

There I was, thinking I had control,                                                                                                                                             mistakes unmade, not a mistake this time though

I wish I didn’t have to do this but…

You told me to be true to myself, to be who I am but as I grew older, I came to the realization that you only said those words, you stopped encouraging me to be who I am.

But don’t those two things coincide, go hand in hand?

You can tell me things, but if you don’t show me, how will that be a smooth transition from who I was to who I need to be?

I’m trying, and lord knows I’ve been struggling with things you can’t even begin to fathom.

I love you, but sometimes love really isn’t enough.

There are times inwhich I think I want people to be able to read my mind, and there are times when I don’t. This is one of those times where I need you to understand that this is not me rebelling against you. This, this so called life that I’m trying to live is not me getting back at you for anything. This is me being myself. This is me coming out to you as a child that is even trying to be your child most days.

This thing, this feeling… is not fake, and sometimes it’s a sort of feeling that barely exists at times, until it hits me out of nowhere. When it hits me, I feel like my heart is being crushed. I’m not being myself when I’m your daughter. I’m not being myself when I’m “acting” as the person I grew up thinking I was.

I can feel this in my soul. Sometimes it kills me to think that I’d lose the both of you, it kills me so much that I’ve been sacrificing my own mental health to be who you want me to be… but the truth is, I’m tired of wanting to kill myself over something that I can’t help, but I do know that I can alter who I am on the outside to match who I am inside, even if it’s not a complete match.

If that means that you are going to be pushed away, then I’m not going to let myself conform to someone else’s expectations and taint myself just for your own happiness.

I wish this didn’t hurt. And I don’t blame you for everything, but how can you look me in the eyes and tell your own child that you love them, but that my “lifestyle” doesn’t live up to your standards? How can you look your own child in the eye and tell them that what they’re doing is wrong, when what they’re doing is being themselves? You may not think that I’m being myself and I’m not saying that you don’t understand, but you have no idea what it feels like to live a day with my brain.

My love for you is still here, and I am foreever thankful and greatful for everything that you have provided me with, but I’m struggling almost every day. I’ve held so much of myself back because of the fear that one day, you both could walk out of my life.

So far, Weiry

So far, so going and here                                                                                                                                                               I am, there I was

So near, so coming my                                                                                                                                                             sanity was and is

So trying, so weiry eyed                                                                                                                                                             skin tried from being tired