So I got on the T-train.
That’s how I’m trying to think of it – a long, slow, but continuous journey. Even when I’m asleep, the train’s still moving. I’m getting there.
It’s hard to be patient. I keep comparing pictures of my face, trying to spot the difference.
After needing to talk to friends about my experiences in other parts of my transition, I’ve found it surprisingly hard to talk about testosterone. Maybe it’s because lots of other things – names, pronouns, titles, identities – are social concepts that need to be spoken in order to work. In a way, it’s a relief not to feel pressure to somehow ‘make’ this work. The T’s going to do its thing whether I talk about it or not.
On the other hand, starting T meant giving up on the fantasy that I’d wake up one day and everything would just be right. That I could do this on my own. That if only I tried hard enough, I’d be a cis guy. The bad news is, that isn’t going to happen. The good news is, there are other ways to go about things, which do work. Not perfectly, but they do work.
I’ve heard people describe trans people as unicorns, but I think I’d rather be a pegasus. Biology was not on my side, but I’m a pegasus boy – here I go, growing my wings.