This morning I was struck by the commitment I had made to blog daily for 365 days. What would I find to write about everyday? Tonight I struggled to pick a topic from the many opportunities to open to vulnerability that I encountered during the day. However, pick a topic I did, as you can see from the title. Today I took my prescription and went to the pharmacy to pick up testosterone, even though I will have to wait until Friday for my first shot, since I am not ready to inject myself. The pharmacist was awesome and even got my preferred first name in the system and on the label for my prescription. I was, and still am, a mixture of excitement and nerves. Don't get me wrong. This is what I want but that does not mean that there are no complex feelings surrounding my decision.
I have lived with my body as it is for the first 40 years of my life. Sure, we have gone through some changes: a pregnancy and birth, aging, binding and, in December, top surgery. Yet the changes to come are both exhilarating and terrifying. What will my voice be like? I can't wait for it to be deeper and not to give me away so readily every time I open my mouth in public but, will I still have a good singing voice? How much will my hair grow and where? Will I get acne? What will happen to my moods, my sex drive, and my bones? There is so much unknown to face on the physical side alone! And then there is the political side. Am I selling out to the pervasive gender binary of the over-culture by further modifying my body? How do I feel as a feminist and a pagan in a tradition where the body of the Goddess is revered and possibly idolized as ideal? Not to speak of the personal, intimate fears. Will my life partner, who after all used to be kind of a straight guy when we first met 11 years ago, still find me attractive? Will anybody find me attractive ever again? Will my mom finally freak out and stop speaking to me? How will my kid react to more physical changes? Will I still recognize myself in the mirror?
There are so many questions and fears, and yet there is no doubt that this is what I want. I smile when I think of my first shot and then the wonder and curiosity take over. The questions transform into an adventure that I can hardly wait to embark upon. Yet it is unnerving to talk about the unknown because I feel that so many might be far too eager to point and say: "see, that is not how a 'true' trans guy should feel right now" or "see, I knew trans people were way more fucked up than they let on, look at this guy". But I wonder whether any non-trans person has ever made a major decision without questions, fears, and a little hesitancy before stepping into the unknown. If so, was their mental health questioned, their identity inspected with a magnifying glass and fine tooth combs, turning every possible paradox into proof? Possibly, depending on what color their skin is, what first language they speak, what gender they are read to be or how old they are. My human experience, just like any other human experience, does not exist in a sociopolitical vacuum. Neither does my decision to start taking T.
So, here I am: sleepy, nervous, excited and smiling. It will be a great adventure, as off I go into the unknown.