Another step closer to the point of no return….

I’ve been thinking a lot recently about life and the future. I’ve spent the last 35 months of my life on hormones to become female and at some point in the near future I will hopefully be given the option to get to what is generally referred to as “the ultimate point of no return”. 

For those that are unfamiliar with the phrase, it basically means you reach a point at which there is just no going back. For example, if you’re driving at 100mph towards a roundabout, there will be a specific point at which you won’t be able to stop in time, regardless of how fast you slam your breaks on. Or, to give you another example, if you’re in a friendship that’s already strained and you call the other person a rude word, yeah, you can never go back to where you were before.

Oh, I forgot my customary song. Today I’m going with a song from one of my favourite movies and one that is basically about being patient enough for the good times to come.

Anyway, back to my point. There are many times during the process of changing gender that feel like you’re at a point of no return in many ways. For me it started with a Facebook post in July 2012 in which I told all of my friends, then a few days later it was time to tell my parents. Those were the two hardest things I ever had to do in order to start changing gender. My friends took it very well, but my family weren’t keen on the idea. It took them a while to get used to the idea.

The thing about telling your friends is that there is no way back, they’ll always look at you different. Regardless of whether they say that their opinion has changed or not, it has. It’s almost impossible for something that big not to change your opinion on someone, whether for the better or for the worse. Since that day there are some who I’ve grown very close to, whereas there were others that I was good friends with that I now barely speak to at all and haven’t really since that day.

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As time went on I reached a few more milestones and I continued to reach “points of no return”. For example, as soon as my breasts started to develop properly, the only way then to get rid of them would be surgical intervention. Even if I took testosterone for the rest of my life from that point, I would always have breast tissue unless I got it surgically removed. The next big one really is that as soon as I had been on hormones for a certain amount of time, I could never go back to being a fully functioning male again (estrogen stops your testicles producing sperm and is irreversible after a certain amount of time), and recently I finally reached another milestone.

My facial hair is now a thing of the past. It’s finally gone. After several years of failed attempts at hair removal via various methods, one trip to Lincoln Laser Skincare saw my facial hair just go. As with many hair removal processes, it took a week or so for the hair to come out of the follicle whilst shaving, but usually it starts growing back pretty quickly, or is so patchy that it takes several treatments to get good coverage, but with one visit to LLS I seem to be effectively done as I haven’t had to shave for three weeks and there’s not any sign of a single hair on my face beneath my eyebrows (which I do need to sort out, I’m currently growing them out and will then get them waxed into a proper shape again, I plucked too much in the past and yeah, they look a bit silly).66648_453138747258_5123654_n

It feels weird not having any facial hair, or even having the ability to grow any facial hair anyway. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about it in the slightest as I hated shaving, it’s one of the reasons I was rarely clean shaving before I started this whole process three years ago. It just seems weird though as now, if for some bizarre reason I wanted a beard again, I am now physically incapable of growing one.

My chin feels ridiculously smooth, which is odd given that the picture on the right sums up the minimum sort of level that I used to have my facial hair at (I was 26 at the time this was taken). I could probably count up on one hand how many times I was clean shaven before the day in which I came out as transgendered to all of my friends (I was almost 28 at the time).

In many ways, much like before I had breasts, I can’t really remember what it was like to have full on facial hair. For example, when I look at pictures of me before I started changing gender, I look at my chest region and there’s nothing there, whereas now there are two reasonably sized mounds, and the weirdest thing is that even though I’ve only actually had breasts for less than 3 years (barely over two really considering it took ages for them to get going) out of my 31 years, I can’t seem to recall what it felt like to have a completely flat chest (ignoring the fat).

Don’t get me wrong, it’s a great thing that I can no longer grow facial hair, it’s yet another successful step on the way to being a woman that I had to take, and realistically there are only two more, removing the body hair (which I don’t really have a lot of anyway) and final operation, which is terrifying by itself.

Anyway, I’m going to stop blathering on now…..

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