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JayM

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Blog Entries posted by JayM

  1. JayM

    Clothes

    By JayM,

    I've spent a small fortune lately on clothes. And every single thing I've bought, I've loved - and everything has fit me perfectly.
    Two things about that surprise me.
    Firstly, when I used to shop for women's clothes, I'd buy something (without trying it on, invariably, because, in bricks and mortar shops, I hated using changing rooms so I didn't use them, and when buying online, you just don't try things on) and I'd get whatever it was home and try it on. And find that it didn't fit. It took me ages to work out that I always had an image of my own body that never really matched reality, for some reason. So, I would always get the sizes wrong. I was completely useless at buying female clothing. I had stacks of stuff I never wore and every six months I'd have a clear out and bag it all up and take it to a charity shop. All brand new, never worn, stuff.
    Secondly, I hate - loathe and detest - shopping. Always have. As soon as I was hooked up to the internet, that's when I started my online shopping. The world wide web and online stores were invented for me; I'm convinced of that. But, still, I don't like shopping at all. I do it when I have to, not because I want to. I'll wear clothes until they're pretty much falling apart and have to be replaced.
    Over the last couple of months I've bought loads of clothes, though. Casual shirts, cargo pants, jeans with button flies. And they have all fit me better than I would have expected. I've been wearing men's clothing at work for a few months and, either nobody has noticed, or if they have, they haven't mentioned it.
    Last week, I decided to buy a suit. I did desperately need a new one, admittedly. I've tried buying men's suits in the past and never found one that seemed to fit right or look good. I'd get the trousers to fit right and the jacket would be too big. Sleeves too long. Shoulders too big. That sort of thing. I know you can get suits where you buy the jacket and trousers separately and therefore in different sizes, but I've never been interested enough in buying clothes that I would make such an effort. So what I've tended to do is buy a black jacket (blazer type) and team that up with black trousers I already own. Not perfect, but at least they fit. Then I spotted a suit, online, last week, that was ridiculously cheap. And I thought, well, if it doesn't fit, I won't have wasted too much money on it. So I bought one. It was delivered the next day.
    When I tried it on, it was absolutely perfect. I mean, it could have been made for me. And, even if I say so myself, I looked effing good in it. I paraded in front of my husband and he agreed, it's the best suit I've ever bought. So yesterday I jumped online again and ordered two more, in the other colours that they have available. They will arrive tomorrow. And, while I was online yesterday, I bought half a dozen shirts and four ties. And then I just seemed to go mad after that, buying all kinds of clothes. I've spent an absolute fortune. And for some reason I couldn't explain, I was excited about all of it arriving.
    And then my husband pointed something out to me, not half an hour ago, that I hadn't considered. He reminded me I've been working out quite a bit lately. And I've been concentrating on my upper body more than I have in the past. And he told me it's working.
    That's why the clothes are fitting me better.
    Or maybe I'm just better at buying men's clothes than women's. 
  2. JayM

    Time flies...

    By JayM,

    I can't believe it's been so long since I last wrote something here. In fact, it's been weeks since I even visited this site. I seem to have got caught up in so much stuff that I've been too busy to spend time on the internet. I've missed it, though.
    Yesterday was TDOR and I was surprised that our company LGBT network didn't even mention it. They always make a big thing out of IDAHOT and Coming Out Day and the various Pride celebrations around the country and other days that stand out as something to be celebrated or remembered or promoted. But yesterday? Nothing. So I wrote something on our company LGBT notice board and a bunch of other members jumped on there and complained about the lack of shouting too. So I don't think the network will make that mistake next year.
    Tomorrow is Sunday, and where I live there's going to be a big memorial event for TDOR. There will be readings and prayers (although I'm not religious) and a candlelit vigil and a bunch of people will walk through the city to gather at the trans* memorial in the park. I attended this event last year, but I stood on the fringes and I wasn't trying to be involved in any way. I just quietly stood at the edge of it all and paid my respects in silence, and then I went home. Tomorrow, it'll be different. I am going as myself, for the first time. I've also persuaded my husband to join me. If I'd asked him last year he would have laughed and said no. This year, he didn't hesitate to say yes. And then afterwards we will spend the evening with a bunch of other people like me. That will be a big step for him, because he hasn't really been involved with other trans* people before.
    I have to say, his support, just lately, has been amazing. He's the one who keeps telling me to get back in touch with my doctor and ask where my referral to the GIC is up to. He's the one who, last night, helped me clear out every single piece of female clothing I still owned and stuff it into bags and take them to the charity shop. He's the one who is correcting people, before I even get a chance to open my mouth, when they misgender me. After more years together - and sometimes apart - than I would care to admit (because then people would know just how old we are), he has finally accepted me.
  3. JayM
    Yesterday I went to three different banks to ask for a name change on their systems. And I went to the bank we have our mortgage with for the same purpose. I had my Deed Poll certificate in a cardboard envelope inside a plastic bag (because it was raining). For some reason I don't want to get that certificate creased or folded yet  but I'm sure the novelty will wear off at some point.
    Bank number one: I nervously watched the expression of the guy behind the counter as I asked for the name change and handed over my certificate. Not a flicker of anything appeared on his face when he read it. He just took the certificate, tapped away on his computer, told me he was just going to step away to take a copy of the Deed Poll and then he brought it back and handed it over with a smile. "That's all done," he said. "I'm going to order you a new card now. Would you like it to say Mr <first name> <initial> <last name> or just Mr <initial> <initial> <last name>?"
    I hadn't even considered that. I asked for just initials. "Great," he said. "That's all ordered for you now, Mr M*****. Have a nice day!"
    So simple. Five minutes flat and it was all done. I'll get a new card in a few days with my new name on it and I'm looking forward to seeing it. And he called me 'Mr' without batting an eyelid!
    Bank number two: The lady behind the counter looked really young. Early twenties, if that. Again, I watched her face carefully to see what she might be thinking as I handed over the certificate and explained what I wanted. She smiled and got on with the job of changing my name on the mortgage account, chatting away to me about the horrible weather as she was doing it. This took a little longer than at the first bank and she explained that the system was really slow for some reason. But within ten minutes, it was all completed.
    Bank number three: I dashed to the third bank which was only a few hundred yards down the road. It was quicker in there. I had already found a change of name form online and filled it out and so I took that with me and handed it over with the certificate. The guy copied it, stamped the copy on the back and signed it and then he said. "Right, you can leave that with me. I'll send these to the department that does this stuff for us. Your new card will arrive within a few days. Is there anything else I can do for you today?" I said no and wished him a pleasant afternoon. He grinned and said, "You too!"
    It was only when I got outside again that I realised I hadn't even bothered to look for any kind of a reaction from him. And he hadn't given any, except a nice smile.
    Bank number four was closed by the time I arrived. But three out of four ain't bad!
    I know these people get paid to do a job and be pleasant to their customers and all that, but I was convinced at the start of the day that I'd get some kind of funny look from someone. But I didn't. And next week I'll have new cards to prove my name really has changed. Not only my name, but my title.
    #CallMeMister 
  4. JayM

    Things that make me smile

    By JayM,

    Things that make me smile…

    Seeing the leaves appearing on the trees in spring. Watching winter give way to spring always makes me happy. The leaves are bright and vibrant and fresh. It seems that, suddenly, everywhere appears to be more alive. People smile more and I guess it’s because they are more hopeful and filled with expectation now that the darkness and cold of winter is becoming a memory.

    Blue sky. Don’t get me wrong, I love clouds (I’m even a paid-up member of the Cloud Appreciation Society) - but you can’t beat a blue sky. There’s something basic and primeval about the way humans react to certain colours - and the blue of the sky is one of those colours that homo sapiens have reacted to for millennia. It’s ingrained in our DNA, I believe.

    Seeing Valentino Rossi win a race. Go Vale!!! You’ll always be my hero. #46

    Jumping on one of my bikes when the sky is blue and heading through the countryside never fails to put a smile on my face. If you’ve never ridden a bike, you’re missing out on what could well be one of the best experiences of your life.

    Watching children jump into puddles left by the rain. Or watching them play in the leaves when it’s autumn. Reminds me of when I was a kid.

    The smell of good coffee. Heavenly. Also the smell of nutmeg or cinnamon.

    Talking of smells... There’s this aftershave (cologne) that I fell in love (or lust) with when I was a teenager. It is called Aramis. One of my teachers wore it every day at school. If I ever catch a whiff of Aramis, I grin like a fool.

    Music. Music always calms me. Or it invigorates me. I’ll listen to many types; there aren’t many genres I don’t like. The only exceptions are musicals and country music - I’ve never managed to get into them. But most other types of music will make me relax and smile.

    Writing. That’s another thing that calms my mind and makes me happy. Except when I have a block.

  5. JayM
    So, I changed my name with my banks without any problems. I've received two replacement cards with my new name on and I'm only a tiny little bit irritated that I'm still waiting for a card from one bank. But at least I have access to my money again.
    I've changed my name and payment details with online sites such as Amazon, ebay, Beatport, Juno, Smashwords, and other places where I spend money on a regular basis.
    But the only one that's causing me a major problem is PayPal. They won't accept me trying to change my bank details, even though the name on my bank account has changed. I've amended a credit card on there but they won't allow me to amend the debit card I have registered with them, even though the name has changed on that debit card. And they won't let me delete it. AND they won't let me change my name!!! Not without a Photo ID. So I need to get my new passport or driving licence before I can change my name on my PayPal account.
    But what makes me laugh about that is that when I opened that PayPal account TEN YEARS AGO they never asked for Photo ID. So they didn't know what I looked like then and they don't know what I look like now.
    Why is PayPal being so annoying when all the banks and credit card companies and everywhere else have been so great? I'm thinking now that the easiest solution is to close my ten year old PayPal account and open a new one in my new name, which is, after all, my real name. But then I will have to go back to ebay and Beatport and Juno and Smashwords and... change my payment details again.
    it's a good thing that I like merry-go-rounds  
     
  6. JayM

    Male

    By JayM,

    That was my first Christmas as a man. Officially, that is. Unofficially, I've been that way for years  
    But all the documentation, and the websites, and the bank cards and credit cards that I have in my possession, showing my new, real name, they all tell me that I'm officially a man now. (Notwithstanding the fact that my birth certificate still says "girl" on it, but it'll be a long time before that gets changed, so I'm not counting that).
    I've just changed my gender on here, in that little dropdown thingy on the profile page. That's a technical term, for all the non-IT people out there - "dropdown thingy"  
    I just changed it. From "Transgender" to "Male". Because when I logged in, I looked at my profile and thought, "My gender isn't transgender. That's an adjective to describe me, maybe, but it's not my gender." At best I would choose "Trans male" if it was there, or "Trans man". Or maybe "AFAB". But, hey, I'm male and I'm proud of it. So I changed the dropdown thingy.
    I'd like to take this opportunity to wish everyone on here a fabulous 2016 and I hope it brings each and every one of you everything you desire. Personally, I desire the T, but I'm in for a long wait, it seems. Maybe this time next year my voice will be a little deeper and I'll be moaning about having to shave every morning before I go to work, but who knows...?
    Hey... and before I forget... if anyone in the UK happens to read this and they are planning a visit to Sparkle 2016, and they feel inclined to have a wee dram or a cup of tea with a Mancunian who is also planning a visit to Sparkle 2016... well, as long as you're not an axe murderer or something... 
    My thanks go to all you guys and girls who have provided such valuable advice to me this year. Much respect. And hugs. Ok, maybe just one hug. A quick one. Before anyone sees.
    Have a Happy New Year. xx
     
  7. JayM

    Tempus Fugit

    By JayM,

    I haven't been around for a while (sorry!) because I've been burying myself in work (lot and lots of it) and in other stuff, to occupy my mind, or to distract myself from unwanted thoughts to be more precise.
    Been doing a bit of training for ATH (Action for Trans* Health) here in the UK - training to become an Advocate. I'm also volunteering for the Trans* programme at the LGBT Foundation here in Manchester, so I have been spending a fair amount of time hanging around the LGBT Foundation headquarters on Richmond Street. I was there all day yesterday. That's where the monthly FTM group meets although it seems like months since I've been to one of those (but it hasn't been months at all).
    I've been preparing a bunch of articles and stuff for LGBT HM to be posted on our company LGBT+ internal website, and also preparing information and biographies of notable trans* people for the week leading up to 31 March (International Transgender Day of Awareness) - the plan is to have a different article and a different bio uploaded to the site each day of the week leading to ITDoA.
    I've done all this (and I am continuing to do it) because I still have my writer's block 
    If I can't write something, I send myself crazy.
    I hope everyone is doing ok... xxx
  8. JayM

    Next Steps?

    By JayM,

    Hi
    I'm going to be a good boy today  and I'm not going to complain (much).
    Feeling fairly upbeat, actually - certainly compared to the last time I visited the site. Since I last wrote, my questionnaire responses were passed to an assessment counsellor, and she emailed me to arrange an appointment to talk. We spoke on the phone a few days ago. The worst part was that she covered ground that had already been covered in the questionnaire, in that she asked similar questions that touched on the same subjects, and while I kept my calm and provided the responses in a polite manner, I was still thinking to myself, "Why do you want to know intimate details about my sex life?" and, "Didn't you read the questionnaire?" She asked me what kind of lower surgery I want and I could feel myself getting exasperated (because my answer was on the questionnaire) so I had to take a few breaths before I responded. I don't even have a hormone prescription. At this point in time, surgery of any kind is quite possibly years away, judging by the pace of things in Gender Services. Can't they just give me the T before we get to that kind of discussion?  I didn't say that out loud, of course.
    Anyhow, I managed to get through the interrogation without messing up too much, I think, because the next day, the online GP emailed to ask if I was ok after the conversation, and ask whether I needed any more 'counselling'. I hadn't felt as if I'd had any 'counselling' though. If I'm totally honest, I feel that the conversation with the so-called assessment counsellor was a waste of her time because we basically rehashed the questionnaire. But what do I know? Maybe she was reading between the lines, or monitoring stress levels in my voice, or drawing conclusions from the pauses in my answers to the questions. Or maybe she was checking that I was giving the same answers as I'd already provided. I haven't a clue. It's part of the process, I realise that. And I have to play the game.
    The truth is, I don't need any counselling from her. I have a very nice counsellor already. I've been seeing him on a weekly basis for a couple of months. He's great. And I can continue to see him for as long as I want. He has boosted my confidence and reassured me about many things. I always feel better after I've had a session with him. And I had a session with him yesterday.
    I know I said, a while back, that I didn't want to see a psychologist or psychiatrist, but I think I was being stubborn back then. I can recommend it now. Even though, when I first visited him, I didn't think it was going to be a useful exercise, I can say now that it has been.
    So, I still don't know whether I'm going to get a T prescription from this online doc anytime soon, but do you know what? I've survived this long without one, so I have decided I can survive as long as it takes. And if I have to wait another two years, I'll wait another two years.
     
    Gotta go now. The football is starting soon. I'm sitting here, resplendent in my Republic of Ireland jersey, waiting for kickoff. Come on, Ireland!
  9. JayM

    Sparkle

    By JayM,

    I know I'm lucky to live in Manchester. This city has a big LGBT+ contingent and a lively LGBT+ scene and a city council that supports its LGBT+ people. We even have our first out gay Lord Mayor now.
    He was at Sparkle last weekend. Sparkle styles itself as the "National Transgender Celebration" here in the UK. http://www.sparkle.org.uk/ It's also a trans* charity. I don't know whether Sparkle weekend really is the biggest trans* get-together in the UK, or whether trans* people really do descend on Manchester from all over the country, but I was there last weekend, with my husband. And there were an awful lot of other people there. Definitely several thousand people.
    The only disappointing part was that it had rained throughout the Friday night and for a good few hours Saturday morning, before Sparkle was due to kick off on the Saturday. When we got there, the rain had stopped, but the gardens where the main Sparkle event was scheduled to take place were awash with mud due to all the rain. It was a mudbath. The organisers had sprinkled some sawdust around the place to try to lessen the mud, but it didn't really work. And so everyone got messy. I felt sorry for all the ladies in their high heels  but there wasn't a lot they could do about it.
    But it was great to see so many trans* people in one place. We wandered around the gardens, checking out the various stands, and then we decided to head back to Canal Street for a drink. We ducked into View for a quick one, but it was pretty quiet in there so we only had the one drink and then headed for our favourite bar, Bandit.
    It's actually called Bandit, Mugger & Thief, which is a tad too long for a bar name, in my opinion, but it's a great place. It used to be named Taurus, which I think is an eminently more sensible name for a bar, but whatever. Taurus/Bandit is a great place to hang out on Canal Street. The people who work there are friendly and the bar is comfortable and usually pretty busy but not too full that you can't get a seat.
    We discovered a beer called Barista stout. I'd never had it before, although I will be having it again. I like stout and porter - dark beers are my favourite and I usually drink Guinness. But this Barista stout... the first mouthful tastes like vanilla ice cream and then it starts to taste like coffee and chocolate - like a mocha milkshake. Oh my goodness, it is gorgeous! So we had more than one.
    While we were sitting there enjoying our drinks and chatting about stuff, my husband said, "That woman behind you has been standing on her own for ages. Do you think she's waiting for someone?" I turned to look and realised I had seen her earlier, standing there, and she had been alone for a while. So I hopped off my chair and moved to say hello and invite her to sit with us, while she waited for whoever she was waiting for, because it was fairly obvious that was what she was doing.
    And that was how I met my newest acquaintance - or friend - Emma.
    Emma joined us at our table and we all chatted about whatever came into our heads. Inevitably, I suppose, some of the conversation focused on transitioning and our different journeys. By the time her friend arrived - it could have been an hour or two later; I have no idea how much time had passed - we had exchanged phone numbers and agreed to keep in touch.
    I'm hoping that we do keep in touch. I hope I don't have to wait a whole year - for next year's Sparkle celebrations - to meet up with her.
  10. JayM

    Good night

    By JayM,

    It was a good night.
    My train arrived late into London and I had to double-time the walk to meet with the psychologist, but it all went well enough.
    I was hot and sweaty and feeling dishevelled by the time I arrived but, to be honest, I didn't look as bad as she did. It was evident that her office had no air con and she had had precious little fresh air all day. She looked more tired and dishevelled than me.
    The interview went well. We covered old ground but that didn't rattle me at all. I simply answered the questions honestly and straightforwardly. I've been asked the same questions so many times now, and while they would have annoyed me six months ago, they didn't yesterday. It's as if these people don't read each other's reports - or maybe they're trying to find a different answer. 
    Anyway, a little over one hour after meeting her, I was checking into my hotel.
    I found the gym and used it then took a shower and ordered room service. Great food, I have to say. I spent the rest of the evening reading and listening to music until my eyes started to close.
    This morning, after another trip to the gym, I showered and checked out before finding a great coffee shop along the street from my hotel, which is where I am now. My train departs in around 50 minutes so I'm just passing the time and reflecting on yesterday's interview.
    She told me to schedule a follow up appointment with the psychiatrist next month and then another one with her in January when she will recommend top surgery. She's already emailed the psychiatrist to agree with his assessment that I need a better T prescription than the one I currently have.
    All in all it's been a worthwhile trip to London. Again.
    Peace and love, everyone.
     
  11. JayM
    I have been quiet over the past few months. I have visited the site but have not written anything. Not commented on anything, not added an entry to the blog, etc. All I've done is read what others are writing about. I've noticed a few people sign off lately; saying goodbye; moving on. I've wondered about their reasons for leaving. I've also wondered what I'm doing here. 
    To be honest, one of the things that has bothered me is whether it's safe to post here. I've thought about the way the political landscape has changed in the USA and what that might mean for people who are based in the USA - and also what it might mean for people like me who are not based in the USA but whose words are, in all likelihood, being stored in a US data centre as I type. Am I being paranoid? Probably. Do I have cause to be paranoid? Not sure, yet. Probably not. But I am also wondering whether I have anything useful or interesting to say anymore.
    I could tell people about how I've visited the gender specialists three times since i last added an entry to this blog, and how I have another two appointments lined up - one later this week and one next month. I could talk about the fact that my GP still isn't prescribing my testosterone and I'm still getting it via a private prescription, and that my GP has received written instructions from the gender specialists about what to prescribe and how to monitor my blood, but that she still doesn't seem inclined to do it. I could talk about my relationship with my husband, or my brother, or how things are going at work, or how one phone call from me to the psychologist at the gender clinic is all it would take to set up a referral to a surgeon for top surgery. 
    But I don't really want to. I've realised that I'm being self-indulgent on here. I've recently read through some of my previous posts and it seems to me that I've felt sorry for myself quite a lot and I don't want to do that anymore.
    Everyone has problems. Everyone has things they need to work out or work through. I have it quite easy, really. I have a good life and I have family and friends who care about me and respect me. When I come here I seem to forget that and I only dwell on the negatives. I've used this site to moan and complain when, really, I have nothing to moan or complain about. 
    I wish everyone well. I hope you all get what you want out of life and I hope your journeys progress the way you want them to. I hope the destination is as wonderful as you envisage it to be. 
    Peace and long life.

     
  12. JayM

    'Feminine' Traits

    By JayM,

    My feminine traits. They’re non-existent. Not that I haven’t tried. Over the years, I’ve attempted to be feminine, mostly for the benefit of my mother. After the trip to the doctor, where he suggested my mother should actively encourage female activities, take me out shopping for dresses, do stuff that mothers and daughters are supposed to do, that’s what she did. I went along with my mother’s wishes for a while, although it was plain to both of us that I wasn’t enjoying any of it. She kept it up for a few months and then gave up. Several times, I tried to explain to her that it just wasn’t me. That it wasn’t what I needed, because that wasn’t how I was built. But each time I tried to talk to her on the subject, she would get upset and tell me to shut up.

    For ten years, I made random attempts to talk to my mother about being transgender. She didn’t want to know. One time, she said to me that she already had a son and she didn’t want another one. It was only years later that I realised what I’d denied her. I had denied her the pleasure of having a daughter to teach how to cook, a daughter to teach how to apply makeup, a daughter to go shopping with. All the things that, I suppose, a mother looks forward to doing with her daughter, she never got to do with me. I still have guilt over that.

    I have, on occasion, made an effort - mainly for my mother but also for others - to be female. I also tried to be feminine for my husband, although not all the time, I admit. I couldn’t possibly do it all the time. It’s very draining to pretend to be something you’re not. It’s tiring to pretend to be enjoying something when you’re not enjoying it at all.

    One of the occasions I made the effort was my wedding day. I wore a dress. Not quite white, but ivory coloured. We didn’t want any photos of the wedding (my idea, I believe) but one of my husband’s friends took a bunch of photos anyway and then presented us with an album full of them. I look like the fairy that belongs on top of the Christmas tree.

    I hate having my photo taken at the best of times. But in a dress? That’s the worst. But I allowed it to happen again, at my brother’s wedding. I wore a lacy purple dress, mainly because I knew it was expected of me, and mainly to please my mother. I looked - and felt - horrendous. My mother didn’t even say anything about it afterwards. I was disappointed about that because I’d done it for her, not me.

    The last time I wore a dress was two years ago, at another wedding. The wedding of my cousin. Again, I did it because I knew it was expected, and because it was still a way for me to cover up what I am. There was a lot of family at that wedding. They don’t know about me, unless my mother shared with her sister at any point over the years. But I doubt she did. If she had, I’m pretty sure I’d have received funny looks or questions over the years, and I haven’t.

    So, occasionally I’ve worn a dress, to keep up appearances. And every time, I’ve felt like a freak. Uncomfortable and wrong. Deceitful and fraudulent.

    A few years ago, my husband and I were really struggling. To be honest, the marriage had become staid because we were taking each other for granted far too much. We had become complacent and uncaring. We somehow agreed to try to enliven things in the bedroom, which resulted in the both of us buying ridiculous amounts of lingerie for me to wear. I tried it. I really tried, for a month or two. But it didn’t fix any problems, and I felt guilty for trying to cover up the cracks in a way that I’d always known wouldn’t work. I don’t feel sexy in lingerie. I never have. I also felt guilty for letting down my husband like that. For pretending I was into it when I wasn’t. When I knew I wasn’t, and never would be. For basically lying to him, leading him on, faking it.

    I’m not feminine. I never have been. I’ve tried, when I have thought it was required of me or expected of me. I’ve faked, I’ve cheated, I’ve pretended, I’ve lied. I hate myself for doing it because I know it’s wrong. And because it has badly hurt my husband. And because it hurts me. It hurts me because it compounds the guilt I’m already feeling. It hurts me because I’m denying what I am, over and over again. I’ve spent most of my life pretending to be something I’m not, and I’m exhausted by it. The guilt and the shame eats at me. It keeps me awake at night.

  13. JayM

    Waiting and hoping

    By JayM,

    I just called the doctor's surgery to find out whether they have sent my test results to the GIC. I had a bunch of blood tests last week because the GIC asked for them. They won't accept my referral until they get the results and they gave a 4 week deadline to receive them, otherwise they would reject my referral. That was a little tight, given that it took two weeks for their letter to arrive at my GP practice, requesting the blood tests in the first place, because it's almost Christmas and I presume the letter got stuck in the backlog of Christmas mail.
    As soon as I received my copy of the letter (because they sent it to me too) I called the doc and made an appointment for the blood tests. My letter arrived two days before it arrived at the GP practice. So it's a good thing I called them otherwise we'd have lost another few days.
    I want that referral.
    I know that, even if they accept me, it will be months and months before I even get to see anyone at the clinic. The last time I checked, the waiting list was 8 months. It's probably longer now. And that's one of the shorter waiting lists - another clinic has a waiting list estimate of 3 years.
    The lists are growing daily. I've been looking at the stats. So, there are more people requesting referrals to Gender Identity Clinics all the time. Are there suddenly more of us around? I don't think so. I think we're just getting braver, or more desperate. I know that, in my case, it's a bit of both. I am braver than I was a few years ago. But I'm also definitely more desperate for something to be done. I went to my monthly FtM meeting last night and, while it was a good session, and the other guys are great, I kept looking at the people who have completely transitioned and I knew I was envious of them. The guys with the beards. The guys who don't have hips that are larger than their waists. The guys who don't have to wear binders. One bloke caught me looking at him and he smiled at me. I felt myself blushing but I smiled back. I don't know what he was thinking when he caught me. I don't know whether he thought I fancied him or something, but I don't care. I was definitely admiring his body.
    I want one of those.
  14. JayM

    Therapy? No

    By JayM,

    I no longer have any desire to see a "therapist". I think it will perpetuate the medical profession's opinion that I somehow have a mental illness if I sign up for that. It's hard enough to get the medical types to take us seriously as it is. I have friends to talk to, I have my husband, and I have my FTM support group. For now, that will suffice, I think. At one point, I thought it might have been a good idea to talk to a stranger about stuff, but... no. I don't want to. Not anymore.
    I know that at some point, I will have to sit in front of one, while they ask me probing and insensitive questions about my sex life, my sexuality, my body image, my feelings, what I had for breakfast. But I'm prepared for that because it's part of the process I have to undertake, if I'm ever going to get the treatment I need, want, desire, whatever you wanna call it. I've heard horrible stories about the kind of questions they ask and how seemingly irrelevant they can be. And having to answer questions like that makes me shiver. But it has to be done at some point. I'm resigned to that.
    Until that day comes, I'll stick to my current support network.
  15. JayM

    Overwhelmed

    By JayM,

    That's the only word for it. I think I took on too much and it's worn me down. But at least I've realised now.
    My dysphoria (oh, how I hate that word - it's so clinical and doesn't adequately describe the situation) has become so much worse since I got myself on the waiting list for the GIC, came out to everyone and changed my name. So I thought that a good way to remedy that would be to find lots of stuff to occupy me. I volunteered extra hours at the local LGBT centre, I took on training for Advocacy work, I volunteered to prepare a bunch of articles for LGBT History Month in February, and I agreed to take on a similar task for March, preparing a bunch of articles and biographies for posting to the company LGBT Network's website in the days leading up to 31 March (International Trans Day of Visibility).
    I've worked hard on the preparation of those items; throwing myself headlong into the work, to distract myself from the dysphoria. And to distract myself from the knowledge that I couldn't write my usual stories. That writer's block was killing me because that's my usual outlet and I didn't have it.
    So, I've been spending weekends prepping stuff for March (I have to do it at weekends because of the way our company network is set up - so many websites & resources aren't available at work because they're blocked by the security systems). I have full biographies of around twenty five different notable trans* figures from history, as well as information on notable trans-related events from history. I have written a "Trans 101" for people who know next to nothing about the subject. I have written articles on non-binary identities, a piece on non-binary pronouns, articles on understanding & respect, and I gathered together a bunch of verbatim quotes from trans* people I know; these quotes span the full range of experiences of being trans* and come from people who identify as belonging somewhere on the trans* spectrum. That final piece will be posted on 31 March and, even if I say so myself, it's a very powerful piece - emotional, thought-provoking and sincere. And it gives a real flavour of the thoughts and experiences of trans* people.
    I asked the Trans* Advocate at our company to read and review all the stuff I'd prepared for the lead up to 31 March and she said she was "too busy" and I hadn't given her "enough notice" - that was on 10 March. By my reckoning, I've given her 21 days to read the stuff. So she obviously isn't interested. But what annoyed me more was she said, in her emailed reply to my request, "Be very careful with the language you use in anything you write - I wouldn't want you to offend any of my trans* colleagues."
    Like, what?? I AM ONE OF YOUR TRANS* COLLEAGUES!
    Does she think I don't know what I'm talking about? Does she think I don't know what it's like to be transgender? Does she think I'm going to be insensitive and use inappropriate language and terminology?
    As if!
    I've known I was transgender since before I was ten years old. Just because I have refrained from transitioning until now, doesn't make me a non-expert.
    So, anyway, I've reviewed everything I've written & prepared; reviewed it so many times now that I've become word-blind - and now I don't trust anything i've written. And I'm so annoyed that I've come to this point. Because I know that I threw myself into that task so heavily that it was bound to hurt when I had finished it, regardless of anything the company's Trans* Advocate had to say.
    Because, at the end of the day, I was doing it all for myself, not for anyone else. I needed the distraction. I so desperately needed the distraction. And now I want to delete everything and forget I ever started it.
    And I want to cry.
    But I can't cry. I haven't cried for months. I seem to have lost the ability.
    So instead I pick fights with my husband. Yeah, that's really productive, isn't it?
    The only good thing to have come out of all of this is that my writer's block has gone. I wrote three chapters for one of my books, yesterday. I just finished one chapter for another one, and I enjoyed doing it. The words have come back. Now that I have my trusted outlet again, maybe I'll be able to pull myself together.
  16. JayM

    Small Packages

    By JayM,

    The title of the blog entry... it's not what you think.  
    When I arrived home from work Friday there was a small package waiting for me. Upon opening it, I found thirty smaller packages inside. Well, sachets. My first month's hormone prescription, in thirty neat little packets. As today is Sunday, I've used it twice. And now I have a banging headache and I'm wondering whether it's the T, because that was one of the listed side-effects. It's noted among the many side-effects that could assail me. Of course, the headache could be a complete coincidence. I'll just have to wait and see.
    It feels good to be finally, officially, changing, even though I'm not stupid enough to think any changes have actually taken place after just two doses. But you know what I mean... If anyone knows what I mean, it's likely to be someone reading this.  
    I'm looking forward to seeing a little redistribution of body fat, and I'm looking forward to noting any changes to my voice. Some of my friends assume that what I'm most looking forward to is growing a beard. But that's not top of the list. I'm assured, by people who have been there & done that, that I'll change my mind. But I am looking forward to shaving properly - or, as someone else suggested I'd soon get fed up of shaving, maybe I'm looking forward to getting fed up of shaving.  I shave already - have done for a while - but there's not a lot to remove so I only do it a couple of times per week. So I'm looking forward to having to do it on a daily basis, but that's probably way off in the future.
    In the meantime, I'll just make a note of anything else that I see happening, to my body or my disposition, over the next few months. And I'll check in regularly on here.
    To anyone who reads this, have a great week.
     
  17. JayM
    Yep, changes are afoot.
    I did notice something Monday morning that surprised me. But I'm not going to explain anything about that here. Suffice it to say that there was a noticeable difference in something after only two doses and I spotted it as I was getting ready to administer dose three.
    Today is Tuesday and I've had only four doses of the hormone. I can say with certainty that my appetite has increased. I feel hungry all the time so I'm going to have to watch that carefully.
    The headache must have been a coincidence. I haven't had one since the other day. I'm relieved about that. 
    I have noticed that I smell different. And that the skin on my face is different. I don't know whether it's just my imagination, but I think it is also affecting my sleep. But generally speaking, I'm happy with how things are going after such a short time.
     
  18. JayM

    GIC

    By JayM,

    I went to my first appointment with the head psychiatrist at a well known GIC this week. He has already written his report, sent me a copy and asked for my permission to forward it to my GP and to the head psychologist at the GIC.
    Of course, I gave my permission and now I'm waiting for an appointment with said psychologist.
    The psychiatrist was nothing like I'd imagined and the session or interview or whatever you want to call it went well. Better than I'd anticipated.
    He's already said he wants to increase my T dosage. And he didn't question my sincerity or motives. Or try to trip me up.
    I'm getting treatment, officially, it would seem.
    Yay!   
     
  19. JayM

    Tiring week over

    By JayM,

    I've just spent a week away from home, working. Early starts: late finishes. Not so much sleep over the past few days but it was a good week, nevertheless. 
    I've spent the last few evenings in the company of my team mates and my manager. It was the first time we had all managed to get together like that for a couple of years. And it was great to see their initial reactions to my appearance were positive. It was great to experience their total acceptance of who I am first-hand, in the flesh, because while we've all interacted over the phone many times, that was the first time I've been in their presence since I began to transition. 
    I'm lucky to work with people like that. I'm also lucky to work for the company that I work for. The acceptance is almost universal. Over the course of this week, I met many of the other employees and had to introduce myself and talk to them; the vast majority were strangers to me before this week. Not one person looked at me oddly when I gave them my name. Not one person avoided me when they realised I was transgender. Everyone behaved impeccably towards me.
    This week has boosted my confidence and self-esteem enormously. 
    Peace and love to everyone.
  20. JayM

    Why Now?

    By JayM,

    I have wanted to write this down for a while. But it never seemed to be the right time. I always found an excuse not to. Whether I was too busy writing other stuff (fiction, mostly), whether I was playing my music, whether I was busy working or doing general activities that constituted trying to live life, or whether I was too scared to analyse myself too deeply, I've always managed to find reasons not to find the time and the space to do this.

    But a couple of things have driven me to introspection recently. Firstly, I'm apparently splitting up with my long-standing partner and I'm trying to find the time to find somewhere else to live, whilst feeling guilty about all of it. Secondly, I have been asked to speak, at work, about my experiences and thoughts revolving around coming out.

    These things have led me to a place where I've done an awful lot of thinking lately. Thinking and contemplating and reflecting. Analysing myself, my attitudes, my behaviours, my life and my experiences. And I decided that maybe it was the right time to try to write this down.

  21. JayM

    My Parents

    By JayM,

    The manner of my mother’s death was one that I wouldn't wish on my worst enemy. It was hard to watch her go and it was a terrible, evil disease that took her.

    Her death changed me. My husband noticed almost immediately that I had changed, but he didn't know the reason why I changed. He probably thought I was devastated. I was devastated at first, but that wasn't the whole story.

    The reality is I felt relief after she had gone. And then I felt incredibly guilty for feeling relieved. The relief wasn't just that her suffering had ended. Of course I didn't want her to suffer. But the real relief was that the person who I had been trying to gain acceptance from, for all those years, no longer needed me to conform to her image of what I should be.

    My mother was a nineteen-fifties wife. That’s not to say she was a wife in the fifties, just that she modelled herself on that kind of wife. She stayed at home, took care of the kids and the house, cooked the meals, did the cleaning, washing, all of that. From my perspective, she never really had a life of her own. She never had outside interests that I saw. She sacrificed herself to the “housewife” life and allowed her husband to go out and earn the money. She was caring and attentive when I was a child, and she liked nothing better than to spoil her kids and her husband at Christmas and on birthdays. She always overspent at Christmas and the sheer number of gifts she purchased for me and my brother was overwhelming and embarrassing. We weren't rich. But she controlled the money that my dad earned (he allowed her to do that so he didn't have to worry about anything except his trip to the pub on a Friday night) and she managed to save enough every year to spend a fortune on our presents.

    She liked shopping - a lot. I hated (and still hate) shopping. She loved cooking. I don’t like cooking and I'm a hopeless cook. She would have loved for me to follow in her footsteps. But at fourteen I spoiled that for her. And, apart from the times I tried to talk to her about it - and almost always failed - she never wanted to discuss it again.

    But my mother was very good at conveying her thoughts and opinions with just a look. I received enough disapproving stares to last more than a lifetime. And while she never said anything openly, within earshot of others - about the fact that I didn't invite her to come with me to buy my wedding dress, about the fact that I didn't want children, about her dislike of the first boyfriend I took home to meet her, about a myriad other things - she said things to me in private and she threw the dirty looks my way often enough that I felt plenty of guilt at going against her wishes. And I regularly found myself trying to make it up to her, or defending her when others didn't agree with her - which was often. She was stubborn and opinionated. And so am I. I seem to have inherited those traits. She was also old fashioned in her views and closed-minded.

    But on the surface, she loved me. She adored my brother, and equally adored my nephew; my brother’s son. Of course, she was never going to receive any grandchildren from me.

    My father was more distant when we were kids. My father was out of the house a lot because he worked long hours - he left for work early and came home late. He allowed himself one or two evenings each week to visit the pub with his friends and handed the rest of his earnings over to my mother to manage. When he wasn't at the pub, he sat in front of the television until he fell asleep. The only occasions I remember spending quality time with my dad were spent watching football and science fiction on television. The only connection I really made with my father was through the shared love of football. We support different teams but I believe he appreciated (and still appreciates) that I can hold my own in a real discussion about football. My brother isn't really interested in football.

    My father is kind of lost without my mother. Ironically, I appear to have found myself again. Now that my mother’s no longer around, the only things I can talk to my dad about are her or football. And that’s sad.

    So yes, I have changed. It has caused a lot of friction between me and my husband over the last couple of years, unfortunately. I wish it hadn't, but it is what it is.

  22. JayM

    Unconditional Love

    By JayM,

    Yesterday was a strange day. It was difficult at times but ultimately fulfilling.
    Trying to avoid yet another argument with my husband, I went online, searching for my own place to live (my husband knows I've been doing this). I found a place that looked great and I called the estate agent to make an appointment to view it (I'm going to see this place today). My husband overheard me making the appointment. I could tell he wasn't impressed so I started a conversation about why I felt I had to move out. After I'd explained my point of view, he said he agreed with all I'd said but that he didn't want to lose me.
    That started a whole new conversation where he said he would totally support me if I wanted to transition and he said I didn't have to move out - but if I really wanted to, maybe I should just make it temporary rather than permanent. I had been thinking about purchasing somewhere, but now I'm thinking about renting, for maybe six months, just to see how it goes.
    I still believe we need space from each other. He doesn't want me to go. He said he would always be here when I wanted to come back. He also said he would come with me when I try to find a therapist and a sympathetic doctor. He said he fell in love with what's in my head and in my heart, not what my body looks like.
    Everything looks different today. He wants to support me. I asked him if he still wanted to be married to me and he said yes. When I pointed out that, if I go ahead with transitioning, he would be viewed as gay by many people, he said he didn't give a **** what other people thought of him. I asked if he would be okay with a same-sex marriage and he said yes, because he married me, not my body. He wants me.
    He still wants me.
    We spent hours discussing my options. Through our talking, I now have a better idea of my end goal. I think I know now what I would be most comfortable with. And that's because I understand his point of view better.
    I laughed at one point. He got annoyed and offended when I explained how the law works here (England) with regards to obtaining a Gender Recognition Certificate. He said the law was obscene. Which it is. He said there was no way he would veto my application for a GRC. That's comforting. But that time is still a long way off. Even so, I feel so relieved today. It's going to make coming out at work next week so much easier.
  23. JayM

    T for Two

    By JayM,

    Yesterday I ordered my second month's supply of T. I received an email from the online doc to tell me to order it because she had sent the prescription to the pharmacy. She also said I need to arrange for more blood tests before the end of September, to check my testosterone and estradiol levels.
    I can't believe I've managed to get through almost a month's worth already. Time has passed so quickly. And, apart from the almost immediate effect on one particular part of my anatomy, and the increased appetites (plural - it hasn't just made me hungry all the time, it's affected my libido too), I haven't really noticed a whole lot else. But my husband says I have more muscle definition in my upper torso and arms. I'm not sure about that, but I'll take his word for it.
    I have been trying to work out more, particularly when I realised I was eating more (or wanting to eat more, at any rate). It might have been my imagination but I thought my stomach was starting to get fatter. So I'm on the bike every day and I'm working on my shoulders and arms as well. Having said all that, it might be the fact that I drink too much beer that's making my stomach fatter. I need to check out some additional stomach-specific exercises. I'm never going to have a six-pack and I probably don't want one, but I don't want a beer gut either. 
    I'm not at work this week. I decided to take five days, to do some stuff at home and to watch some of the final week of the Tour de France live (as opposed to watching highlights in the evenings). And it looks like I chose a good week to not be at work. It was warm and sunny yesterday. Today, it's scorching with unbroken blue sky. Apparently, tomorrow will be just as nice. So I think it's time I turned off this computer and went outside. There's some weeding to be done in the garden.
    Peace and love, to everyone.  
  24. JayM

    Clarification

    By JayM,

    I thought I'd better clarify that last entry. Because, if anyone has been reading these entries, they might have noticed that, a few posts back, I was bemoaning the lengthy wait I had ahead of me for an appointment at the Gender Identity Clinic, and how it had pushed me to seek a T prescription from somewhere else in the meantime.
    Well, I did seek a T prescription, from a private source, and I received one. And I've been taking it for almost two months. No ill-effects, so far, but not a lot else happening, either. I feel good, and I've noticed a little redistribution of body fat, and perhaps a slight increase in muscle mass - but I've been working out so that muscle might be because of that.
    The T prescription was sought with the full knowledge of my GP - in fact, it was her idea for me to try to find some private treatment. And I decided that, if I was going to get interim private treatment, while waiting for the GIC to send for me, I might as well consider private treatment for the whole lot.
    And that's where the last entry comes in. The psychiatrist and the psychologist I mentioned in the last entry both work at one of the top GICs in this country, but I'm not on the waiting list for that particular GIC - instead, I've gone to them privately. And now I'm being officially, properly assessed by that GIC - and, judging by the report that the psychiatrist has written, he has few, if any, qualms about treating me. He believes me; he's not doubting the things I've told him; he's not questioning whether I have 'gender dysphoria' - and in the initial interview, he didn't give me a hard time or try to catch me out or ask any of the horrible questions that I had assumed he would.
    I've heard horror stories about how people are treated at GICs - about how they try to disprove your story or try to catch you in a lie or tell you you're not what you say you are. I didn't get any of that. Instead, I got a doctor who was sympathetic, maybe even empathetic, and when I left his office I felt happier than I've felt all year. I think I even had a stupid grin on my face as I walked out of the hospital.
    The night before, I hadn't slept. I had been too busy worrying about how it was all going to pan out. That night, I slept like a log.
    I'm still waiting for the second appointment - the one with the psychologist. I've called her number and left messages, and I've emailed her. But I'm not so worried anymore. I know the appointment will happen at some point fairly soon. And then I'll see where we go from there.
    In the meantime I reckon I need to go back to my GP and get her up to speed. She'll be getting a copy of the psychiatrist's report soon. He wants some blood tests - of course - to see what my hormone levels are, amongst other things. And so I'll have to get those done too.
    And then, I suppose I need to consider taking myself off the waiting list for the original GIC. I've been on that waiting list for eight months. But I've kind of jumped the queue now, having managed to get myself into this other GIC. It's amazing what throwing a little money around can do. I'm lucky that I can afford it. I find it annoying that private treatment can be obtained within a couple of weeks whereas NHS treatment can take years to materialise. I feel really bad for people who can't afford to do what I've just done. I also feel a little bad that it will appear to others that I've jumped the queue - but at the same time, I will be freeing up one spot on the waiting list, so that's the thought that is consoling me at the moment. The NHS system is in such a mess that just freeing up one spot for someone else to get assessed and treated a little sooner is probably a good thing.
    But I ain't removing myself from that waiting list until I'm sure I'm going to get proper treatment privately.
     
  25. JayM

    Step 3

    By JayM,

    On my way to London to see the psychologist from the GIC. Sitting at the station waiting for my train.
    It's windy but the sun is shining and I'm feeling good.
    Step 1 was getting the T prescription. I ordered my supply for the fourth month yesterday and it arrived today.
    Step 2 was getting to see the psychiatrist from the GIC. That was weeks ago. Today is step 3.
    Goodness only knows what step 4 will be. I haven't a clue.
    The T is redistributing my body fat already. It has also given me a few whiskers on my chin. I shave them off.
    I decided to stay in London tonight. Have a quiet night to myself. Maybe use the hotel gym. Read my Kindle. Listen to music. 
    Have no idea what this psychologist is going to ask me but it'll be fine.
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