Being transgender is complicated, I came out to friends and family in July 2012, aged 27, starting on hormone replacement therapy in December of the same year. A few days ago I reached the five year anniversary of coming out to the aforementioned groups and whilst the breasts grew, the hips widened, the face became slightly more feminine, my bitchiness levels went through the roof and the voice has gone a titchy bit higher than it was before, the prospect of actually being fully female at any point during my life never really seemed real. It always felt like a point I would never reach. That changed a few months ago.
Before I go any further, as tradition on my blog, here is a song and for a change, from a genre most would not expect from me…..
Back in June(ish) I went for my usual check up with my gender specialist and I was told that he was shutting his practice in mid-December. At this point I was devastated because I still hadn’t been even in contact with a surgeon and the doctor hadn’t referred me up until that point. Thankfully he said he’d see me one more time and give me 18 months worth of hormones, but when I saw him again in mid-November, he revealed to me that he was now going to refer to me for surgery. A few weeks letter I got official confirmation of this.
That’s right, I’m going to have a vagina.
At this stage it is very far off. I have to get a psychological assessment first (this coming Monday) and assuming all goes well, I’ll get the all clear for the op on January 16th when I travel to Brighton and see the surgeon for the first time.
The reason I say it is far off is that I have to lower my BMI to 28, which for my height equals around 14 stone 6, just under three stone lower than what I weigh now. Not only that but I have to save up around 14,000 to pay for it. So in the space of twelve months (at which point the referral no longer stands) I have to save up from practically zero and lose three stone. The latter I’m confident about, but not the bit about the money. I can always take out a loan, but that’s risky.
Either way it is great news, and scary at the same time. When I look down between my legs, which believe me isn’t a pleasant experience anyway, I can never picture a vagina being there. I can’t quite get my head around the idea of just having something flat and motionless between my legs, rather than having something that, for lack of a better word, dangles uninvited down there, sometimes having a mind its own.
Maybe it’ll be like my chest. Over the last five years my chest had grown due to the hormones, but now I can’t remember how it felt to have a flat chest. Hopefully it’ll be the same when/if I have a vagina between my legs, maybe I’ll look down and not remember what it was like to have a penis.
We can only dream.