F. says...

> Okay... I've done exactly that (put off transition until the next time things broke down, which happened recently). I'm in that angst- filled early transition period when you look bad enough to scare the helmet off Darth Vader, and for various reasons it's going to be a couple months before I can get going on HRT and electrolysis. What do you do to get through this? More to the point, what did you do?

There is no "right" answer to this; we each face different situations, both with regard to the rest of the world, and with regard to ourselves. Giving time for electrolysis and hormones to work is generally a good idea. But some people "hit the wall" and can't go on without transition; at that point, if the choice is transition or die, then transition seems like the better idea, no matter what the difficulties may be. I've known people locally to transition without hormones and with little or no electrolysis; yes, it can be rough going, but they made it.

Either transitioning or just going out, passability is an issue you need to deal with. Picking safe places to go is one way. If transitioning, you also need to be concerned about your work environment; losing your job is one hassle that none of us need.

A lot of passing is mental. Part of that comes with practice; if you are self-conscious about passing, that alone can be enough to get you read. Another mental aspect is the whole area of behavior and interpersonal relations; women act differently from men in many ways, and it helps to pay attention to that. This is one way in which "mall-watching" can be a big help; just go to the mall and watch people of all ages and genders. Listen to the way women talk, to each other, to friends and to strangers. (Deborah Tannen's books, You Just Don't Understand and Talking from 9 to 5 are very helpful in this regard.)

Another big mental issue is preparing yourself for the fact that you are going to get read. Many times, you won't even know that it's happened. Sometimes it's just a quick double-take, and people continue without a break. Really serious confrontations are pretty rare, but they do happen; this is where it helps to plan for safety, and to think about it ahead of time so that you have some idea how you'd want to deal with it. Many of these confrontations aren't going to be violent; what happens is often some idiot screaming out, "That's a man!" You can ignore it until the situation changes--after all, they are making fools of themselves in the process of all this; pointing at people and screaming isn't very polite. If you've got the guts to do it, you can go talk to them about who you are and what you're doing. (But first, take a hard look at physical safety issues!)

Another aspect of mental preparation is simply coming to terms with yourself. Self-acceptance, including overcoming the shame issues many of us have, accepting who we are as being different but still part of the human community and human experience, and accepting that "different" means different in one way only and that otherwise, we're as "normal" as anyone else--all of these things contribute to an inner calm and self-confidence that is important in both passing and in successful transition.

We are not freaks. We are trans people, with a long history and a rightful place in human society. If our society doesn't recognize that, and it generally doesn't, then that is a flaw in the social structure. Yes, we have to cope with that, but that's doable. Because of increased awareness, it really is possible to transition "in place," keeping your job, your friends, your family, your relationship, and your community, with only minimal losses. I've done that, and so have others. But public awareness of trans issues is only part of that; the other part is internal, back to this self-acceptance issue again. One extremely helpful book in this regard is Walter Williams' The Spirit and the Flesh about Native American cultures and their relationship to trans people. This book helps establish that sense of our history that our society denies, and gives us a look at what real acceptance can mean.

While I do remember what you describe as "that angst-filled early transition period," there are things you can do now that may help relieve some of that angst. Just making the decision that I was going to transition was incredibly empowering. It took another 18 months to make that happen, but even being able to look at myself in the mirror and say yes, I will fix these things that need to be changed, was calming. At that point, I didn't know if I would be passable or not; I had no idea whether voice training would really work; I had no idea how to tell people about what I was doing. We all start there. But just knowing, just making that commitment to myself, made a difference.

Actually doing things helped as well. Starting electrolysis and hormones represented fulfillment of that commitment I made to myself. It takes a while to start seeing results from these things, but actually seeing those results, and feeling the emotional changes that come with hormones, also reduced my angst considerably. You say that it will be a while before you can start, but at least you've decided to do that, and that decision does matter. In the mean time, you can read the books I've suggested, and actually start working on interpersonal relationships from a woman's perspective. That in itself is fulfilling, and the practice now will pay off in both passing and in transition.

Another thing you can do is work with an image consultant on how to dress for your age, your body, and your "personal style." Virtually all of us start from a position of being ignorant in this area, and we're starting at an age where people expect women to know these things as second-nature. This is another thing that gets us read! Getting help with this, either from a professional or from genetic-women friends who dress well, can be invaluable.

Although it's generally a good idea to wait on cosmetic surgery until you've been on hormones for a couple of years, some things may be obviously required and useful to do now, such as a trachea shave. Andrea James has done a lot of cosmetic surgery prior to transition, including hair transplants, and has written up her experience.

A good gender therapist can help with a lot of these issues, but mental preparation goes only so far; taking action on your issues really does make a difference in how you feel about yourself and your issues. Do the things that you can do now, and take comfort in knowing that the later steps will come in due time.

F. says...

> Fortunately, there are no restrictions on that hereabouts. Unfortunately, I'm unemployed and in grad school; electrolysis is just going to have to wait until after I finish my degree. HRT... well, the program that I was in when I tried to transition in my early 20's required six months of RLT before starting it. I'm not sure how I feel about that; I've seen a lot of advice about doing HRT for a while before going full-time, but I think that electrolysis is really what's killing me (that and my voice) as far as passability goes, and I could probably get away with transitioning before HRT

This business of RLT before HRT is something that needs a serious rant, and I don't have time for that at the moment. Perhaps it will be sufficient to list a few points:

(1) The Standards of Care contains no such requirement. Anyone who imposes such a restriction is doing it on their own. (True at least for the US and any other country that uses the Benjamin SOC.)

(2) Hormones, at least for the first several months, are reversable. There is no impact on your life; no one knows what's going on unless you tell them.

(3) Hormones do have a significant effect in easing transition.

(4) Transition (RLT) can have a huge impact on your life (e.g., loss of job, loss of friends and family, minor things like that). These effects are generally immediate and just about as irreversable as SRS. If HRT makes transition easier, and it certainly does, then not only does it "make sense" to start HRT first, but any therapist or gender program who denies HRT until after RLT is unprofessional at best, and criminally irresponsible at worst.

K. writes:

> Diane Wilson wrote:

>> This business of RLT before HRT is something that needs a serious rant, and I don't have time for that at the moment. Perhaps it will be sufficient to list a few points:

> If I might suggest an alternate POV. Not a rant but just a different viewpoint...

> First, let me say that how one changes their life or their person, whether it is HRT first and RLT later or vice versa, or even HRT/SRS and never engaging in RLT should be up to that individual alone. No one has a right to force a specific pattern or method on another.

On this, we agree strongly. The problem is gatekeeping, in which a therapist does force this issue.

> Second, for those that don't know, I am bigendered, not transsexual. As such, my viewpoint comes from engaging in RLT on alternate days <g> without anything but the most minor body modifications. This obviously will influence my opinions.

Yes, it does. (Simply acknowledging this; nothing more.)

> Given these caveats, I'm inclined to suggest RLT before HRT.

> Why? That's a complex question <g>.

> For me, it's tied to a couple of things. First, the nature of HRT. Hormones are dangerous drugs, that at their extreme can kill. But even at lesser levels can make drastic changes to your personae (possibly better, possibly worse) that one should not jump into lightly. Therefore, I am inclined to advise their use only AFTER deciding that living as a woman (or man) full time fits one's person.

First, I agree there are risks.

However, a couple of things... First, you are somewhat contradicting your point elsewhere about letting each person decide.

Second, there is a huge difference between living as a woman and simply deciding to live as a woman. I agree that hormones should follow a decision to transition, but that is a very different proposition from deferring hormones until after making the transition.

> Note that I see a difference between 'being a woman' internally and 'living as a woman'. Just because one is a woman internally does not mean that one will have a 'better' life living as a woman. RLT is partly a process of answering that question. And if the answer is NO, why engage in the physical danger and change?

> But then, doesn't HRT help with RLT as Diane suggested?

There are a number of us whose passability is either enhanced or made possible by hormones. Because of the risks involved in transition, it seems reckless to transition without hormones, and to assume that transition will give the answer to whether you can live as a woman or not, when in fact you have not done one of the fundamental things required for a successful transition--specifically, doing everything you can to enhance passability. (Note that I did not say ensure passability; I question whether that's really possible.)

Yes, this raises all sorts of questions about "living as a woman" as compared to "living as trans," which in turn is different from what you do. (I'll broadly define "living as trans" as picking "trans" as your gender role, and sticking with it full-time.) Living as trans is fine if that's what you've prepared yourself for, but there are still social issues related to passability. Dealing with a hostile outing in a restroom is not the time for a philosophical discussion of "trans" as a third gender.

>> (3) Hormones do have a significant effect in easing transition.

> I'm inclined to disagree with this. RLT, it's 'success' and it's meeting of a persons needs seems to me to be about social interaction and social acceptance. And from my experience, HRT does little to change this. It certainly is not a magic pill that allows an individual to be accepted as a woman where that person would not be accepted if there had been no HRT.

The problem here is that a lot of social interaction and social acceptance is based on other people's assumption of a two-gender world, plus the fact that you can't spend all of your time and energy correcting that misconception. If you want to continue a normal life after transition, you have to be able to go about your business in a casual manner, day in and day out. To do that, it helps to be able to pass well enough that you generally don't get second glances. Hormones are not the be-all and end-all to getting there, but they do make a difference, and for many of us, that's a crucial difference.

> HRT can however provide one's self with self-confidence which can be an important factor. But I'd suggest that this self confidence can be obtained just by living as a woman.

Actually, I'll disagree that hormones provide one with self-confidence. As you said, they are not magic. What they do is feminize, and that enhances one's believability when presenting as a woman. It's tough enough to transition with this edge; transitioning without is a lot harder. It's especially tough when going without means that you will obviously look like a "man in a dress" and you have to fight that perception in every encounter with another person. For a therapist to insist that you have to do that to prove you can live as a woman is insane.

As far as self-confidence goes, there's only one way to get it, and that's by living in-role successfully. Self-confidence doesn't come from a pill, or from your makeup, or from your clothes, or from hiding in your closet.

>> (4) Transition (RLT) can have a huge impact on your life (e.g., loss of job, loss of friends and family, minor things like that). These effects are generally immediate and just about as irreversable as SRS.

> And this is the counter argument.

> BUT whether one has HRT beforehand or not, one still must face the 'irreversible' process of RLT. Where 'failure' of RLT might suggest avoiding HRT, one cannot 'fail' HRT therefore it's 'irreversible' nature is not balanced by a gaining of self knowledge.

The question comes down to this: If you're going to do something with as much risk as transition, why not do everything you can to load the odds in your favor? A failed transition often means a person whose life is in ruins, and for that reason I cannot consider this subject as an academic discussion. It's fine to consider this as philosophy if you aren't contemplating transition in the first person. If you are considering transition, it's your life you are putting on the line, and things get down to pragmatics very quickly.

Do you remember Earl Butz, Richard Nixon's Secretary of Agriculture? He got fired for making fun of the Pope. In reference to birth control, he said, "You no play-a the game, you no make-a the rules." There's a bit of truth in that, though. I respect your viewpoint, but at the same time I must temper that by recognizing that you have decided not to transition.

As far as terminology goes, it does bother me to see RLT and HRT juxtaposed in this manner. To imply that one can "fail" HRT implies that HRT is a test, like RLT. It is not a test. It is not an exploration of the self. It is part of transition, period.

> In addition, I'm still inclined to feel the physical changes of HRT to be more dangerous and less reversible than the social changes of RLT. But that's a very subjective call. But then, I feel all life decisions (and non-decisions) are basically irreversible <g>.

Well, there's one that I will disagree on; many things are reversible, at least up to a point. When things are instantly irreversible, that raises the stakes quite a bit. You can't say, "I'm a transsexual" and then follow it up with "Oops! Just kidding!" when you see the response going sour. With proper monitoring, I don't see hormones as being that risky. In any case, informed consent applies strongly here.

>> but any therapist or gender program who denies HRT until after RLT is unprofessional at best, and criminally irresponsible at worst.

> In this statement I am in full agreement with Diane. But I would make the reverse statement as well. Any therapist or gender program who denies RLT until after HRT is unprofessional at best, and criminally irresponsible at worst.

That gets into gatekeeping issues again. A therapist can't deny RLT. All that really happens with transition is that you change your name (usually) and start going out the front door in a new gender role, leaving the old role behind. Making your transition successful is the hard part, and that takes work, commitment, education, self-knowledge, practice, courage, and for many of us, hormones.

K. writes:

> The basic point of your post though is well taken. For many, the physical change is utterly important. And therefore is maybe the only consideration when deciding on how to approach change. And as such the considerations I presented are meaningless.

> But that argument was not even brought up by Diane. And it was Diane's arguments that I was addressing.

Well, yes I did, although rather indirectly and in support of other issues. What is it about hormones that makes transition easier? It's not the boobs; those are the easiest of all the changes to fake. It's the changes in muscle mass and fat distribution; it's the hips; it's the loss of body hair; it's the altered facial planes. More than any single one of those, it's the gestalt of all these things. These changes are what other people see, but they are what I see as well.

And yes, the emotional changes are important, but that's more of an internal issue, and it's one of several contributing factors in that area.

Now, why are these things important? Men look different from women, and I want to look like a woman. I want other people to recognize that. I want other people to interact with me as they would with any woman. I want to believe--no, I want to know that I am approaching that state as closely as I can.

Why? Wrong question.

The reason is "because." Because I'm a transsexual. And all of these things, the physical, the social, and the emotional, are part of that.

This is the reason for the quote at the bottom of my personal gender page, the paragraph by k.tatroe:

Everyone always tries to figure out Why she does what she does; which as any good person can tell you if he bothered is the wrong approach. Girls like her, they're not so much Why girls as Because girls.

People who ask Why are missing pieces of the puzzle. I sometimes wonder if the only people who understand Because are the people who are the puzzle. How to connect them? That's another discussion.

I'll close by describing the Toddler Test, since I haven't seen it here for quite a while. (Though I could easily have missed it....)

There are two groups of people who are the most likely to clock one of us, toddlers and teen-age girls. Both are extremely interested in gender and identity, and spend a lot of time studying other people in order to learn about themselves. But of these two groups, toddlers make the better mirror for self-appraisal, because toddlers have no compunction about screaming, "Mommy, why is that man wearing a dress?"

I was on hormones for six months before toddlers started ignoring me. By that assessment, I wasn't passable until I'd been on hormones for six months. It had nothing to do with clothes or makeup or voice. It had everything to do with that gestalt that we all capture about a person as soon as we see them.

Why does this matter in relation to transition? Because transition is serious business. If I get read, I'd at least like to present an image that says I'm serious about all of this, that I'm not out on a lark, or trying to attract attention or to live a fantasy. There is a difference between getting read as a transsexual and getting read as a man in a dress, and the overall changes brought on by hormone therapy contribute to making that difference. It affects what other people see. It affects how I feel about myself, because I do have to look at myself in the mirror. If people are going to know about me, I want them to know that I take pride in who I am and how I came to be.

I don't know of any way to separate it all out, to say that only the physical changes matter, or even that they are most important. What matters to me is being. Why? Because. Where do hormones fit in all of this? They have to be early in the process, because they need time to do their work. And for me, the day that everything had to come together was the day that I left my old life behind.

N. writes:

> V. wrote, in part:

>> ... passability is very important if you are passable; if you're not, you cannot afford to let it be important. :-/

> I suppose that sums it up.

> What I am about to say is difficult for me but I am going to be brutally frank with myself.

There are parts of N.'s post that I simply have no idea how to respond to. N., all I can say is that I hear you, and I understand. What follows are pieces of my own struggle, as they relate to yours.

> I am in the latter category and it is very hard to not let it bother you sometimes. As far as passability goes, I do okay insofar as just walking down the street or cruising through the mall -- nobody really bothers me, as I don't think people pay much attention to each other anyway. But as to being "read", that goes on virtually every day of my life.

I'm in the middle, somewhere. I dress androgynously (last time in a skirt was about nine months ago) and even with three years on hormones, male build just hasn't up and disappeared. Every once in a while, I get a "sir" followed up by a "ma'am." Lovely little reminders, but not necessarily the hardest.

I have a cat (Fremont) who is on a diet. That means he gets a trip to the vet every few weeks to get weighed. This past Saturday was not one of the better ones.

To start with, it was a cat-owner's nightmare. I walked into the office, and there were five medium-to-large dogs clustered in the middle of the waiting room, between me and anywhere I might want to go. Along with them were five dog-owners, chatting about their dogs while their dogs try to figure out who's who among themselves. There's nowhere to go but to stand by the door; fortunately, Fremont is in a cat carrier.

The vet tech behind the counter calls out, "Hi Diane, be with you in a minute," and I give a "Hi" back. Then I realize who is in the middle of the pack of dog-owners: my last third-line manager from back in my IBM days. He's the one who selected me for getting laid off. Obviously, he knows who I used to be. He's also one of those people who thinks he's a people-person and who will never be anything close to that.

To be fair to him, he left IBM shortly after that, and one friend who knows him well thinks that part of his reason for leaving was that he refused to go through another layoff cycle. But the result is that we once again work for the same company; he's one floor down from me. He's seen me as Diane before; he's always polite, with "hello, how are you doing, how are things going" small talk, but his face always looks totally baffled by my change. That confusion probably includes "how the heck do I find out what's going on here?" because he doesn't have the people-skills to ask directly.

Needless to say, I have very mixed feelings about him. That layoff came during transition (two months after starting hormones), and it cost me dearly.

In a few minutes, the vet tech is ready to weigh Fremont, and calls me back to the scales. The dog-owners are still there; there's nowhere to go but right through the middle of the dogs. I know Fremont is about to have a panic attack; he's trapped, and there are all these dogs around.

Ex-manager says, what do you have there? A cat on a diet, I answer, and hold Fremont up for a viewing. (No doubt he's happy not to be looking at dogs.) Oh, what a gorgeous cat! (He's a big orange tabby with a white clerical collar.) The vet tech also looks into the carrier and says, "Ohhh, Fremont's saying, 'Mom, get me out of here!'"

"Mom."

I've been ma'am'ed enough that I usually know who it refers to, but I've never been mom'ed. "Mom." It's not a word that rolls easily from my tongue. How many words are there that can trigger us? "Mom" is someone I can never be. Would I have made a good mother? My therapist thinks so, but I don't know. Would I ever have married or wanted children? No way to know, but as life did turn out, with a horrible childhood and two terrible marriages, I don't have children and I regret that it was the right thing to do. Yes, there are losses here, big losses.

"Mom." Ex-manager. Bad memories. Dogs. A panicky cat. Yikes.

How do I deal with it? As the line goes in "The Right Stuff," I "maintain an even strain." I walk back to the scales and set the carrier down. Fortunately Fremont gets weighed in his carrier; I don't have to deal with him at the moment. Instead I chat with the vet tech about Fremont's progress, and about how crazy a vet's office can be on Saturday morning. Then we're done, and with "see you in a couple of weeks," it's back out through the chaos of the pack of dogs, and my life. Once I'm out the door, it's time to breathe again.

Here's another one. I'm pretty much out of therapy these days, although every once in a while I go back for some "clean-up work." I had a couple of sessions again recently, and Carol went in with me for one of them. This isn't with my gender therapist; this is with a group therapist that I've worked with for a number of years. He handled my transition very well, and even has a TS client of his own now--he recently (before this session) called me to ask whom to refer his client to for hormones.

But he doesn't handle the joint session well at all. Whenever he talks to Carol about me, he keeps using male pronouns. Yes, he catches himself, and he brings it up as an issue, his issue. This is the first time he's seen the two of us together, as a couple, and he can't get past responding to a couple as man and woman.

Getting read is only part of the story. The emotional baggage of having a past is another part. I've lived in this area for 16 years, only two of those years as Diane. The past has shaped who I am, and it continues to be part of my life.

> When you are post-op, as I am, this can be really heartbreaking. Most of the time, I just grin and bear it but it keeps me in a perpetual state of unrest. Often I think I have made a colossal blunder with my life, not because I erred in seeking to change my sex but because I have begun to conclude I cannot successfully do it. Those are just the facts for me.

Yes, the reminders can hurt.

But for each of us who finds the courage to strike out on this path, I figure that we also have the right to define what "success" means. Is my life better than it would have been otherwise? Yes, absolutely. Do the changes have a limiting effect on my life? Occasionally, but those limits have as much or more to do with living in the role "woman" than with being TS.

Have I successfully changed sex? That's a tough one. I'm a non-op, so I can truly say that I have changed from "male" to "indeterminate." If I had gone ahead with surgery (as I could have at one time; the money and the approvals would have been there), would I have successfully changed to "woman?" That's a question we each have to answer for ourselves, but in my own mind, the answer was that surgery would not have significantly changed the outcome. I'd still be a "woman with a past." Surgery wouldn't have given me a childhood as a little girl. It wouldn't change my socialization, past or present. It's a lot of money and pain and suffering to go through and not get what you want, and that's one of the reasons I didn't go ahead with it.

That leaves me with my present life.

Carol accepts me as I am, which is "mostly woman." She jokes a lot about me having surges of testosterone poisoning, but when she gets a real reminder of maleness, it tends to freak her out a bit. (For those who don't know, Carol has been with me since the days when I was coming to terms with all this.)

I live my life, and I'm accepted by the people in my life. Most of them know, but I'm OK with that, and apparently they are too.

> I consider it necessary to keep a positive attitude in life and I work very hard at that. But I do feel the pain of my comrades who have difficulty in finding acceptance in their new gender. There isn't a good answer I can give you, as V. noted. It's basically just tough shit. One is left with a profound sense of being weird. Every time I get clocked -- and it happens to me a lot -- I am stung to the core and I feel... well, I don't know exactly how I feel. Embarassed, angry, foolish, invalid. This can get a girl down pretty good if she's not careful. I'm not saying that people are being mean, they just honestly misperceive my gender.

Yes, our attitude is one of the things that we can control. It is our strength when the world around us isn't what we'd want it to be.

I've always been an outsider. It's more than just gender; it comes from being an introvert, it comes from being an abuse survivor, it comes from being too smart to be accepted, it comes from immersing myself in classical music that I could share only with other outsiders, it comes from years of reading to escape from a life that I didn't want to accept or acknowledge or deal with in many ways. And as an effect as well as a cause, I'm an outsider because of mental illness; I have clinical depression, and that too has been my companion throughout my life.

Being an outsider has toughened me; it helps me deal with the times when I don't pass. I know who I am, and I've had to rely on that self-knowledge to get me through difficult times. Getting read does not diminish me in any way; it's just a reminder that I'm different, something I've always known.

It's just that there are times when I get tired of being different.

> I can remember several times shortly before I went full time when I would be addressed as "ma'am" while wearing a suit and tie and doing my best to present as male. Now, the reverse happens not infrequently. I can be totally decked out as a woman, made up, hair styled and the whole ball of wax and still be considered male. It is totally perplexing. Hell, I've got a vagina now -- don't you people understand anything?

What can I say, N.? All of life is perplexing. Why are we who we are? It's not about biology this time, or developmental psychology, it's that fundamental cosmic unanswerable "WHY?"

> On the other hand, it is possible, even if you are like me and don't pass very well on appearance, to achieve a fairly significant level of socialization as a woman. Nowadays, most of the people I regularly deal with consider me to be female, or at least to occupy the role of a female.

> So, to those who are struggling with these issues, you are not the only one. Who knows, maybe they'll discover some beauty pill that will make it all mo better? In the meantime we continue to do what we must do, and try to hold our heads high while doing it.

Amen, sister.