In January I mentioned that my hormone replacement dosages had increased (double the estrogen, quadruple the testosterone blocker). A couple of weeks ago I got another increase, doubling my estrogen again. I haven’t done blood tests yet, but that doubling should get me close to where my NP wants my estrogen levels to be.
A few days ago I marked one year on HRT. In January I mentioned that I felt no changes (it had only been two months, so I wasn’t really expecting any). But then in August, I laid out some physical and emotional changes that were happening. Well, those changes are still going strong, and now doubling up the estrogen again probably means I’ll slip into a whole new set of changes and feelings. 🥴
I feel like my brain still works the same way, but I don’t know if I’m a good judge of that. And now that I think of it, some of my interests are changing, which means somethings stirring in my noggin somewhere. Like, I enjoy writing with pencils now, and I never used to.
Just kidding. But I have recently taken to writing with pencils, that part is true. And it’s hard to say whether your interests or outlook changes are just the natural progressions of life and age, or whether the hormones are contributing. Like I’m calmer now and less worried about a lot of things, but I’m also in a stable, well-paying job, so maybe I would have felt less anxious in general anyway.
Ayin and I have always gotten along very well and thoroughly enjoyed each other’s company, which we should since we love each other. But I feel like I understand them more every day, and without getting into too much detail, some of the gross behavior I used to exhibit in our relationship at times seems to be easing up. But again, that’s probably not for me to say. That’s how it feels to me though.
We’ve been together for 22, 23 years and we can still sit around talking to each other for hours. It’s kind of incredible. I don’t think that has anything to do with hormones, I just wanted to brag. 🙃
Father, are you listening?
I wrote about telling my father that I’m transgender, in a couple of articles here, and I kind of played off his rejection as, like, whatever, I expected that, but now I think that I underestimated its effect on me. Because it does bother me. It does make me sad and I definitely have a deep feeling of loss.
I worshipped my father when I was young. He was not perfect, not by any measurement known to science or man, but when you’re young you overlook, justify, or just ignore the unpleasant parts. But flawed as he is, I always knew that he loved me.
Or I thought he did.
His response to my letter was mean, dismissive, and it essentially shit all over me as a person. All he talked about was himself. How the news made him feel. How his heart was broken, and how he would feel pain every day for the rest of his life.
And for a while after receiving it I was sad about that and clung hopefully to his words when he said, “Maybe someday.” Maybe someday he’d be able to like, you know, look at me without gagging or whatever his problem is.
But now, I have to tell you, I feel very differently about his response. I see it clearly for the awful, uncaring – no, unloving – act that it is. And honestly, if he does one day reach out to me, I’ll tell him to go fuck himself with a rusty shovel I will not respond.
I don’t have any kids, but I can tell you with great certainty that if I did and one of them bore their soul to me, explaining how they were coming to grips with their lifelong pain and feeling lost in the world, I would tell them they were brave and that I loved and respected them no matter what. I cannot imagine, in any corner of my mind, rejecting your own child for any reason. And not just rejecting them, but telling them that they have ruined your life.
But that’s what my father did. And he sent it to me certified mail so I couldn’t ignore it.
So that’s that.
Is it an overreaction to harden my heart against him like that? Maybe. I love the message of great teachers, philosophers, and leaders who talk about turning the other cheek and loving everyone. I love that. I try to go through life like that. As much as a mere mortal can. But I can’t do that in this case. I will not turn the other cheek only to have it slapped too.
That’s a difficult thing to admit, especially, since, as I said, I worshipped that awful man for so long. But I have to be who I am, and clearly, that doesn’t fit into his worldview.
So, adios old man. You don’t know what you’re missing.