A Red-Letter Day

On Tuesday, September 1^st, my wife and I woke up at 3 am for the trip to Denver (64 miles to the north). We have to make an appointment at Denver Health at 5:30 that morning so that Dr. Hyer could perform gender confirmation surgery on me. My surgery started at 7:30 and took 5 hours to complete. I woke from anesthesia with a new vulva and all the component parts.

I'm going to stop for a moment because I want to cover an important subject, that's personal privacy. I am choosing to divulge that I have had "the surgery" of my own free will. I do so for several reasons. First and foremost, I crave the attention. Those of you that know me know that that is not the case. I am sharing because there are people out there that are struggling with being transgender. They find skewed information or even outright lies. When I was very young, I knew that I was different, that something didn't match up, but I didn't have the vocabulary to describe how I felt. It took me well into adulthood to come to the realization what was going on with me. You see, the hardest person to come out to was myself. The difference between me as a child and me as an adult was access to the internet and all of the information it contained. I started off convincing myself that I was a crossdresser. That it was all about the clothes. I knew better, but I couldn't allow myself to believe it. It took me years of counseling and self-reflection to come to terms with who I truly am.

So, back to my original point, just because I volunteer this information does not mean that it is okay to ask other transgender individuals about their surgeries. Nobody has the right to know what is in your pants, and you don't have the right to know what is in someone else's pants. If they want to share that with you, that is totally and entirely up to them.

Back to my surgery, or rather the recovery. I spent Tuesday through Thursday in the hospital; I was released on Thursday afternoon with a packing in my vagina, a foley catheter, and some pain pills. Let's talk about those pain pills, and please remember that this is my experience only. I cannot speak for others going through the procedure. I had a pain pill the day of surgery, while I was in the hospital, I only took acetaminophen, I took my next pain pill the night that I got home, the drive home was torture, 64 miles of road construction. I've only had to take one more since then; I have been making do with alternating acetaminophen and ibuprofen. The pain has been manageable using regular, over the counter medications. Again, this is me, your mileage may vary.

What have I learned so far? When you get home, make sure you have pads, thin maxi pads work best (my wife read that in the documentation and got some for me). I would also recommend some panties that are a size larger than you usually wear because there will be swelling, and it will be significant. Dr. Hyer calls this the "Shark Bite" stage, and boy is she ever right. You are going to be stitched together like a patchwork quilt. While you're in the hospital, make sure you eat. Your body needs the energy to repair itself, but watch what you eat, because going #2 in a bedpan while you're bandaged and stitched up is not fun, and if you're my age, it's embarrassing and humiliating too (not that I would have any idea, mind). When you get home, walk. This keeps things moving and also makes sure that you don't get blood clots (I read that in the paperwork, BTW). If you can bear to look at yourself, get a hand mirror (another thing I have to thank my wife for), it will help you keep track of your healing and also allow you to see trouble spots. Also, be prepared for the swelling; for me, it was significant and very uncomfortable. The swelling is probably a bigger issue for me than the pain. Ice packs help, but the only thing to do is wait for it to go down. One thing I was not prepared for was the mixed messages my genitals were sending me. I keep getting tingling and electrical shocks, all part of the healing process, but disconcerting anyway.

I want to take some time to talk about my hospital stay. Everyone I had contact with at Denver Health has been amazing and supportive. All of the nurses and CNAs that helped me were amazing and made me feel taken care of. Dr. Hyer did a great job, and I feel that her focus was on me and on making sure that when it's all said and done, that I am happy with the result. I cannot express how much I appreciate the staff there.

Tea Party

I’ve been writing this post for a long time. It’s been bouncing around in the back of my mind doing damage and wrecking my confidence. Now, don’t misunderstand what I’m saying, these are not complaints, it’s my insecurities doing everything in their power to push me back into a box that’s too small for me. I wouldn’t be surprised if others experience the same thing, it’s not a trans thing, well, not exclusively.

I’m going to start with a question, do you ever sit at home and see social media posts from your friends having fun and fume that they didn’t invite you? Does that start a spiral of telling yourself that they really don’t like you? Are you that person that never feels heard in a conversation? Do you take all of those negative thoughts and feelings floating around and invite them in to sit down and have tea with you? See, I do that. I know that I can be the one going out and having fun, inviting people out with me, but I don't. My insecurities keep me home, it's comfortable there. And those same insecurities tell me that no one wants to spend time with a 60-year-old transgender woman. I have entire conversations in my head where I talk about my fears and loves, my dreams and hopes, and all the things I really want to say to someone… in my head. Oh my god, these are some amazing conversations, but no one ever hears.

All of this living in my own head feeds my doubts about what I’m doing and what my future looks like. It also makes me want to stay home rather than going out and doing the things I enjoy. I love rugby and my teammates, it’s an amazing group of women that have accepted me, warts and all, but my brain is working really hard to convince me that I don’t belong there… No ladies, I am not going anywhere, I’m too stubborn to give in… I've said it before, depression is a warm fuzzy blanket made from porcupine quills that we cannot get rid of.

We all see social media posts about not knowing the pain behind other’s eyes. I’m here to tell you, it’s true, we all hide something. There is a sociological concept called dramaturgy proposed by Erving Goffman. It’s the idea that there is a distinct delineation between the front stage and backstage behavior. There is the person we show the world, our front stage selves. This is the person we are with the world at large where there is an audience present. Then there is backstage, the person we are with our friends and families, you know, those people that we trust and are comfortable with. I want to throw in another idea, that of the dressing room. The dressing room is where we sit and put on the face that we show the world. Any of you that were in theater know how stage makeup can drastically your appearance.

I did that for most of my life; I hid myself from the world by playing the role that was expected of me, I put on the stage makeup making me a boy and went out into the world. But I wasn’t just hiding from the world; I was hiding from myself. As I look back on my life, I see all of those instances that were clues that I was too scared to acknowledge. When you live your life hiding, it becomes difficult to allow yourself to be yourself.

I guess I’m a work in progress, and I’m scared of the end result, but I’m going to get there, come hell or high water…

And I have to thank all the wonderful people in my life without whom I would still be playing a role. I especially want to thank my wife who is standing beside me while I go on this journey because she is going through this transition as much as I am.

What about "Girl"

Over the past few weeks, I have been reading about a movie called “Girl.” It is the story of a transgender teenaged girl that is struggling to be a ballet dancer. I have not seen the movie, and I’m not going to comment on its artistic merit, what I want to comment on is the reactions that I’ve been reading. A few years ago, Eddie Redmayne played Lili Elbe in “The Danish Girl,” and there was negative feedback for his portrayal as well. In both instances, one of the most pervasive complaints was that the transgender character was being played by a cis-gendered actor. In both cases, the arguments are wrong. Lili Elbe was one of the first women to undergo gender confirmation surgery, which means that for the majority of the story, she was male-bodied and having her be played by a male actor is totally appropriate. The same goes for the main character, Lara, in “Girl.” In that movie, the main character is male-bodied and having her be played by a male actor is perfectly correct.

The main complaint regarding “Girl” is that it is in some way obsessed with Lara’s body. There are several scenes concentrating on her body, and there is a scene at the end of the movie that hints at self-harm. I hate to say it, but one of the side effects of being transgender is that there is a number among us that are very conscious of our bodies and all the things we hate about them. We either have or don’t have what we should. Our bodies are wrong, and we fixate on that incongruity. Disclaimer time, everyone’s transgender journey and experience is different. My journey has been mostly positive and smooth, but there have been times when the weight of it all has pressed down on me, and I contemplated extreme measures. I can see the despair and desperation that would drive someone to take matters into their own hands as depicted in the movie.

Without having seen the film I don’t know how good or bad the movie is, but what I can say, as a trans woman, none of the criticisms I’ve heard coming from the trans community will keep me from watching it.

Hugs and Kisses

Vicki

A Rebuttal

Earlier today, I read part of an opinion piece by a young lady (Lightcap, 2018) that was part of a lawsuit challenging the rights of transgender students to use the dressing room that aligns with their gender. This was a policy that her local school district had put into place. What struck me was the fundamental mistake that she (and others that object to transgender people in gendered spaces) mad was that she looked at the person in the dressing room and saw nothing but that person’s genitalia. Now, I have to admit to a certain amount of bias here, I am transgender after all, and to a certain degree, I can even understand her discomfort. The thing is though, that person as a transgender individual, knows to the core of their being that they are a male or female confined to the wrong body.

The American Psychological Association (APA) describes being transgender as “persons whose gender identity, gender expression or behavior does not conform to that typically associated with the sex to which they were assigned at birth” (American Psychological Association, 2018, pp. 1, para 1). That means that the person in her dressing room, regardless of physical makeup, was female. There are numerous professional medical associations that agree that transgender individuals are indeed the gender they (we) claim they are.

The basis of her argument was that having transgender individuals in her dressing room violated her right to privacy. So, let’s look at the concept of privacy as it applies to dressing rooms. You are in a room with a number of other individuals in various states of dress and undress., showering and taking care of various personal needs. How does the concept of privacy even apply to this situation? Is she concerned that the transgender individual may be attracted to her? That is possible; it can also be true of any number of homosexual individuals in the room with her. So, sexual attraction is also not a valid argument.

So, where does that leave us? In any kind of dressing room, there can not be any real expectation of privacy, and as I stated before, the person in the room is in a very real sense, as female as she is, so it’s not a boy in the room, it’s a girl with a penis in the room. And since there are girls (or boys) that like other girls (or boys), even the idea of sexual attraction is not a valid argument. So what about the person being lude or sexually aggressive? Well, that is an entirely different situation, and quite honestly it would be just as wrong if the person that was behaving in that manner was female-bodied.

Now let me tell you about my insecurities. I really want to go back to the gym, I also would love to join a dance group and learn to really dance. I don’t because of fearing just those kinds of reactions. Now, for those that don’t know, I play on a women’s rugby team, and I’m not self-conscious in the least around my teammates or our opponents, but the fear of going into a dressing room and getting that kind of a reaction keeps me from doing either. Put yourself in the shoes of that poor, insecure, teenaged transgender girl that had another girl run screaming from the room because she was in it.

Hugs and Kisses

Vicki

References

American Psychological Association. (2018, November 30). Transgender People, Gender Identity and Gender Expression. Retrieved from American Psychological Association: https://www.apa.org/topics/lgbt/transgender.aspx

Lightcap, A. (2018, November 29). My high school's transgender bathroom policies violate the privacy of the rest of us. Retrieved from USA Today: https://www.usatoday.com/story/opinion/voices/2018/11/29/transgender-bathroom-debate-privacy-school-lawsuit-column/2123946002/

The fear of moving forward

I haven’t written in a long time. I can always find an excuse not to write, but I woke up this morning way too early and had this thing bouncing around in my head, and I just needed to put it ours there.

I’m scared. And I mean all the time. Some of that fear is easy to overcome, I’m scared to walk out of the door in the morning, so I walk out of the door, nothing bad happens, and I move on with my day. I’m scared to put myself in social situations. I have a friend who sadly moved away, that would invite me to her “Girl’s Nights“ I was scared to go, but I went, and I had fun, and I was accepted. I play on a women’s rugby team; I won’t tell you how scared I was going to my first practice or my first game. I almost baled on both! This is the day to day fear that goes along with being me. That’s not the fear I want to talk about.

The fear I want to talk about is the fear that keeps me from moving forward. It’s crippling. It is the fear of taking that final step. So, just a little background, I don’t pass, and that’s okay. Passing or not passing is a personal choice and is an entire blog post on its own. Suffice it to say that I would love to look more feminine than I do. Starting with a face that looks entirely too masculine to boobs that I wish were just a little bit bigger to other parts of my body that do not match who I am. There are days when I have body dysphoria so bad that I spend it on the verge of tears. Almost anything will trigger it, from looking at clothes that I wish I could carry off wearing to sitting quietly and thinking. There is a fix for this; my employer provides coverage for transgender individuals. I can get my face fixed, and my other body issues taken care of. Here is where that fear comes in. I’m scared to do it! I know that I am a woman… There is no doubt in my mind what so ever… But I am scared to go through with that next step.

I've already made changes to my body, some of them irreversible, but it’s the last step that I cannot take. There is some fear of the surgeries themselves, and I know the recovery times are long and pain-filled, but it’s not the fear of the pain that’s stopping me. In my head, I tell myself that I can’t afford it, even with the insurance, but that’s not it either. You see my fear is two-fold, and it the fear of the unknown, it is being afraid that by taking this next step that I would somehow lose the most important people in my life. This fear is irrational. I know that my wife loves me and she has chosen to stay with me because of that love. I know that my friends and family won’t abandon me, they just want to see me happy. None of that matters in my own head. All of the worst-case scenarios play out in my head. I can’t even take the first step.

I know that there will come a time when the need to move forward will overpower the fear of the next step, but in the meantime, fear keeps me where I am.

Hugs and kisses

Vicki

Rugby, Anyone?

We live in a world where we are expected to fit in, this is true for transgender women as well. We are expected to "pass." For those that don't know, passing is where you look like a cis-gendered woman to the extent that if you don't tell anyone, people don't know that you're trans. A lot has been written about passing in other places, so I’ll leave you this:

               

I would if I could, but I can’t, so I shan't.

Now down to the purpose of this post. I like rugby (do you understand my blurb on passing?). It’s much more entertaining than American football. I like it so much that I want to play. Now as a trans woman, you need to make sure of a number of things if you want to play a sport, most important among them, are you allowed to.  So, I spent some time on Saturday searching for and finding a local woman’s rugby club and found that they are looking for players for the new season. I chatted with the woman monitoring their Facebook page and discussed possibly trying out. I was upfront about my transgender status and my age. I told her that my fitness level left a lot to be desired and that my talents in the sport were dubious, and yet she still wanted me to come out, she was very welcoming.

She wasn’t sure of the rules from her rugby union regarding transgender players but thought that there may be a hormone replacement requirement of six months. Folks, I got that hands down. Since I’m a naturally curious person I decided to do a little research on my own and found that USA Rugby does not have an independent policy on transgender women playing, instead, they use World Rugby’s gender policy (https://assets.usarugby.org/docs/medical/Gender_Policy_EN.pdf) Which stipulates that in order for a transgender person to play on a team that matches their gender, the player will have had have undergone gender confirmation surgery. I was crushed! Here was a welcoming group where I might have fit in and I can’t play due to a policy that was put in place more than ten years ago. Even the Olympics have no surgical requirements, just hormones.

Now in the interest of fairness, World Rugby does say on their website, that they are going to review their transgender policy after the Olympic Committee changed their rules (http://playerwelfare.worldrugby.org/?documentid=175). 

What it comes down to, for me, is that I want to play. I’m sure that some of you out there will think that I would have an unfair advantage. Medical research indicates that that is not the case (Jones, Arcelus, Bouman, & Haycraft, 2017). I’m not going to get into all of the medical reasoning, but I want to point out that I would not be the largest, tallest, or fastest player on the field.

Back to my desire to play rugby, the person I talked to still want’s me to a practice, for me that’s a win. I may not be able to play this year, but maybe, just maybe, there is hope for the future.

Hugs and Kisses,

Vicki

References

Jones, B. A., Arcelus, J., Bouman, W. P., & Haycraft, E. (2017). Sport and Transgender People: A Systematic Review of the Literature Relating to Sport Participation and Competitive Sport Policies. Sports Medicine (Auckland, N.z.), 701-716.

A New Year

Hello world!

Well, we made it to the start of a new year. Now, I'm not one to make New Year's resolutions, but this year I decided to make myself some promises.

First: I will stop giving in to my fears. I realized a long time ago that I will never be beautiful, or even pretty. I do not pass. I doubt I ever will. So, wearing what I want, going where I want, whenever I want, will be my mantra.

Second: I will not dress my age. I mean really, what does that even mean? I'm not going to wear something that makes me look like I"m trying to be 15 again, but if I want to wear leggings, I'm wearing leggings. If that super cute dress is above the knee... time to show off my knees.

Third: This one will be the hardest, I will be open, and honest with everyone, about anything. I may refuse to answer a question, but I won't be insulted by it (Hopefully)

Hugs and kisses, Vicki