Details, Details

Somewhere in the last week or so, I think I crossed a threshold wherein the fear of presenting as female in public just... dropped away. People are using my new name and I'm responding to it. Officially I'm not "full-time" until I start work on January 8th, but I feel like I am in-role now, all the time, and suddenly the prospect of beginning my Real Life Experience isn't so scary at all.

I think part of this has to do with some realisations I've begun to have about transition and being read (more on that later), but also partly because I'm gaining confidence as to being able to actually pass.

I'm still on holidays, and taking the opportunity to have all my identifying documentation updated. This morning was VicRoads, to amend my drivers' license. I couldn't tell if the guy behind the counter noticed anything out of the ordinary before I handed over the change-of-name certificate and Dr Harte's letter explaining my situation - fair enough, par for the course. However, the man operating the booth where the photographs are taken and the licenses printed certainly had no idea that my details were being changed, and ushered me into position in front of the camera calling me "young lady", seemingly without a thought. Then, on handing me my new drivers' license with the photo, gave me a joking "Your boyfriends are gonna love that."

Mm hmm, I do think I might actually pass just fine!

The Last Week End-eth!

Farewell, male dress codes. Farewell neck-ties and boring shirts, trousers, and shoes.

Farewell, male restrooms, with your disturbingly stale odiferance, your sordidly open urinals, your inconsiderately scattered soap and paper handtowels, and your uncomfortable, eye-contact defeating atmosphere.

Farewell, pretence. Farewell to sitting politely in all-male groups, pretending to get the sexist jokes and nodding and smiling in faux empathy. Farewell, conformist pressure, fear of heteronormal expectation, and self suppression.

Farewell, forced masculinity. I'm going to enjoy my holidays and the beginning of the rest of my life, and you won't be missed!

Name Recognition

A certificate of name change finally appeared in my mailbox this afternoon. The government now recognises my name as Amanda! Now, I simply need to run around erasing all instances of my former name. :P

Interestingly, it seems that these days, you're allowed to change the gender marker on your Victorian drivers' license (not sure about other states) without reassignment surgery if you can supply a "medical report indicating that a course of treatment is being undertaken in preparation for gender re-assignment". I'm not sure what would constitute such a report, but I'm going to have a go using the letter Dr Harte wrote for me. If it turns out that the gender marker may truly be changed without requiring SRS, then VicRoads is certainly surprisingly progressive!

Sigh Of Relief

Although it felt like a lot of people whispering about me behind my back, L's sessions are done and over, and by all accounts L was just brilliant. After the sessions, when I gathered with the staff in the tea room and they conveyed their support and well-wishes, it was easy to see that this wasn't a mechanical back-patting and handshaking exercise - they truly understood what she'd said. I think the trick to conveying gender dysphoria to someone is to cut straight through the popular stereotypes and misinformation in a way cisgendered people can relate to, and L's skill at doing so seems masterful.

And the reception was so warm and heart-meltingly earnest. It's like everyone knows now, and no one is objecting, so I can go on with nothing to hide. Like initially coming out, the feeling of relief is difficult to describe.

After the sessions, one of the senior members of the company - more or less openly known to be gay - spoke to me and shared some of his own experiences. As it turns out, he is something of a GLBT activist, being a presenter in a weekly local radio show in which he once even interviewed L. He also asked what I wanted done with my photo and profile on the company intranet, which is a no-brainer to me - old pic and name have to go! I'll need to organise a new photo though, but that gives me a reason to make a transition photo-journal entry (camera shyness is an old habit which dies hard).

Knowing what some people go through with workplace transition, I must be like the luckiest transperson in the world. Talk about being GLBT-friendly!

Maybe it's the strain of anxiety over the last two days, but despite not having physically done anything today, I feel completely worn out. But very happy.

Letter To Colleagues

This is the letter staff at work will have received today:

Dear colleague,

I'm writing to let you know something quite personal which may come as a surprise, that might otherwise be a shock if I chose to keep it to myself until later. You may know that I've often been shy, and very closed about my personal life. But in short, I am undergoing therapy and medical treatment for a condition known variously as gender dysphoria, gender identity disorder, transsexualism, and other names.

Everyone grows up with a natural sense of identity, knowing by instinct whether they are male or female. Being gender dysphoric means that my psychological gender identity happens to be at odds with my physical gender – meaning that despite my physical anatomy being male, I instinctively identify myself as female. It's a rare condition which is often ridiculed in popular media and society, which makes self-denial seem a lot easier than self-exploration. But years of denying this to myself have led only to my struggling with increasing isolation, guilt, shame, depression, and most of all, the confusion and displacement of not knowing who I am.

I've chosen to give up the denial and, with the help and guidance of many specialists in this area, undergo a transition from the person you knew as male, to living my life as female.

As you can imagine, the decision has not been an easy one to make, but the alternative – the continued erosion of my personal life and the effect it was beginning to have on those closest to me – made it the only realistic choice. I don't see this as an unfortunate thing; I'm coming to terms with who I really am now, and for the first time in many years, I feel as though I have been given a chance at living a full life.

Emotionally and psychologically, I'm in a far safer and better place now than I was only a year ago, and I'm deeply grateful to all the people who have allowed this to be possible. I'm not seeking to change who I am; but I am coming out of hiding and finally choosing to be myself. My personality will remain the same, although in discovering these things about myself I am also discovering greater depth to who I am – a person who is truly happier, more expressive, and more open than the shell I've forced myself into over the years.

This is something I've dealt with for as long as I can remember, but I've been incredibly lucky to have found the loving support of friends and family alike, and feel ready to take the next step of living full time as female. This transition is a long journey that I've spent the last year preparing for, and as much as I look forward to its beginning, it's also the most intimidating thing I've ever had to do. I will be learning a great many new things and it will take me time to adapt. In this, your patience and support will be most dearly valued.

My name is being changed to one I've privately held for years – Amanda. I'll be away on leave for two weeks over the Christmas and New Year break commencing on the 22nd of December, and intend to return to work on January 8th as Amanda. I would be most grateful if you use my new name to refer to me, and also use the female pronouns "she" and "her".

The support of [Company] as a whole, and [R&R Manager] in particular, has been invaluable. This is an unfamiliar challenge for the company too, but they have offered their full support and have reasserted the Equal Opportunity and Anti-Discrimination policies as included with this letter.

The meeting invitation which has been extended to you will give you the opportunity to meet a psychologist I've recently been working with. [L] has considerable experience in assisting those with gender dysphoria and will provide some more background on the subject as well as be able to answer any questions you might like to raise. I will not be attending the meeting.

I'm writing this letter in the spirit of honesty and openness. Though this is an issue I've spent a long time dealing with, it has not been something I could easily share before being ready. I'm now much happier than I've ever been, and want to continue working with all of you in my new gender role, in the capacity you are familiar with, just as I've done for the past two and a half years. As much as is appropriate, I do welcome questions especially in the interests of avoiding misconception, and ask only for acceptance of my decision and that the respect you've shown me in the past still remains.

Thank you for reading this.

Yours most sincerely,
Amanda ([Male Name]) [Surname]

So, About That Guy You Know...

Tomorrow, close to fifty people at work are going to receive an envelope containing the letter L asked me to write, a letter of support for my transition from my company, and a single page provided by L entitled "What is a Transsexual". Then on Tuesday morning, hopefully most of them will be attending one of two sessions run by L, in which she'll go over the situation, provide facts, and generally convey the expectations of everyone involved, without me being present. The idea there is that people will feel more comfortable asking questions if they're not having to worry about accidentally offending me.

I'm caught somewhere between nervous anticipation and odd detachment. It's as though it's hit me that this is happening, but only part of me took note.

This coming week will, subsequently, be my last week of work this year, and also my last ever as a male. I'm taking leave after this week to sort out all the things I'll need to do before commencing my Real Life Experience, then returning on the 8th of January to begin work, finally in the role of a female.

I'm utterly boggled.

Update: I just finished ironing my work clothes for the week, and it occurred to me that this will be the last time I'm actually ironing them to wear. It's beginning to sink in now.

Hormonal

The hot flushes I was experiencing have gradually faded over the last week or so, such that I'm sleeping normally again for the past couple of nights. I saw Dr Hunter on Friday, who didn't know any specific reason why I was experiencing them in the first place, but agreed that it sounded menopausal and suggested that we'd simply keep an eye on it. But by the way they came and then went, I suspect it's because, in the last few weeks, the testosterone in my body has finally been suppressed and the estrogen and progesterone won out.

We also went over the results of the blood test I took towards the end of November - as of the time of the test, my testosterone levels had already taken a nosedive from the middle of the normal male range to the minimal levels of the female range. I wish I'd had the presence of mind to ask Dr Hunter what the levels and units of measurement actually meant, though.

Dr Hunter also brought up supplementing my current dosage with an anti-androgen, though we both felt that any gain from it would be negligible, and it just makes sense to me to subject myself to the minimum medication necessary.

In the end, his verdict was that things seem to be "a bit better than good."

A Night Out

Last night, myself and friends B and A had planned to go out for dinner as we do every so often. At the last minute, we decided to ask a reluctant D if he wanted to tag along too. Up until now I hadn't really been out in public in-role, but for whatever reason, I found myself adding, "And if there are enough of us, I might even go as a girl."

So a change of attire and some makeup later, D and B turned up at my apartment, greeting me with surprised but hearteningly supportive grins, and seemingly without a hint of apprehension about being seen in public with a tranny. (On hindsight I suspect there was a measure of "I wonder if Amanda'll sink or swim?" going on too, wasn't there, guys? :P) The venue was within walking distance, and we stopped to meet up with A at her workplace along the way.

I'd chosen a black embroidered and buttoned top with short sleeves. At this stage, I'm generally wary of anything which reveals my arms as it tends to emphasize the width of my shoulders, but the steep neckline and the flared hem on this particular one seem to take away from the weight of my upper silhouette. Also pulled on some black pants which don't really go with the top but are the closest thing I own to doing so (my wardrobe is still an early work in progress).

It was starting to get dark, and I don't think anyone we passed on the streets spotted anything out of the ordinary. Once indoors, however, I scored a few odd looks from the waiter, though he never mentioned anything. He did hand the menus to A and myself before the boys though (does that still mean something these days, or was it coincidence?). There were a couple of other people in the restaurant, and a boisterous group down toward the back who never really glanced our way. So (as I'm starting to suspect will mostly be the case), it's difficult to put a finger on how much I was passing at all. I wasn't seriously expecting to pass when any face-to-face interaction with someone was called for, which probably eased me a lot and prevented me fretting. And for reasons which are slowly beginning to dawn on me, the thought of being read is worrying me a lot less than it used to; I'll write more on that as it crystalises in my mind.

The other three were being terrifically encouraging, using my female name without me having asked (though D informed me that it would probably feel odd to use my male name when I'm presenting as a girl). No slip-ups with names that I can recall at all, though the pronouns had switcheroos and double-takes now and again. :P I did really appreciate the effort though.

All in all, it was a fun night out, and the moral support was top notch. :)

Highlights of the night: watching B practically inhale strips of bread as well as the ice cubes from my empty glass while tackling a stupendously hot curry; not having my bra strap flicked by A; and of course, the split second decision to take the plunge because hey, I have to start somewhere!

Voice Worries

Yesterday was supposed to be my second appointment with Sheryl, the speech therapist. As I sat in the waiting area, a woman came out and called rather loudly, "Amanda, please." The only other patient in the area was a young girl who didn't bat an eyelid as I stood and followed the woman toward the therapy rooms, which could be interpreted in a number of ways. I suppose given how I looked, it might have been an instance where someone might tentatively figure me to be male, but then correct their assessment upon seeing me respond to a girl's name.

The woman's use of my female name wasn't really a surprise - Sheryl had already asked which name I preferred, and the clinic had me in their files as "Ms Amanda [Surname], Female".

In fact, my actual surprise was more to do with the fact that the woman wasn't Sheryl. Sheryl, as it turned out, was down with an illness and had been away for some days, so this other specialist would conduct my session in her stead. I was assured that I'd hear from Sheryl soon regarding the next session, but right now it's not clear when that might be, so it looks like going into full-time, this is all the speech therapy I'm going to get. :/

A little troubling, since my voice is still my chief concern, but then again I didn't expect to have a perfectly passable voice upon commencing the RLE anyway.

The appointment itself, though disruptive in that it veered off on tangents from where Sheryl seemed to be going, still resulted in some progress as I attempted monologuing for the first time rather than reading phrases and passages. My experience with speech therapy as a whole so far has been a little underwhelming though, what with the first abrupt handover from the Latrobe team to Sheryl, and then this further interruption, but I guess for an almost fee-less service, there's not much that can be said.

Time to rely on self-practice again.

Ma'amed

Today wasn't meant to be unusual in any way - just another Sunday in which I loaded up the washing machine, got done up in mostly-guy mode (which, these days, seems to be fairly androgynous), then headed out to do my grocery shopping for the week. Black long-sleeved top, light jacket, black jeans, guy's runners.

Along the way to the local Coles, I wondered as I often do just how the people who pass me on the street notice me, if they notice at all, and what might run through their minds. Dressed androgynously, I don't really expect anyone to gender me as female, though of course there's no way of knowing what people think unless they react in some fashion (which, out of politeness, they often might not).

So I carried my basket of groceries to the counters, and experienced one of those moments when you try to mentally assess the number of items you have and wonder if you should be in the express lanes. I think I counted one more than their limit, and so obediently stuck myself in the slow lane behind a lady with an enormous trolley of pre-Christmas goods, while a bloke lined up in turn behind me.

I think he and I were both eyeing the laden trolley in front when a checkout girl approached us, beckoned toward another checkout counter, and said, "Do you want to change lanes, ma'am? Sir?"

This took me by surprise, especially since I wasn't actually looking to pass at all! I'm sure she must have noticed her "mistake" a moment later, and even if she didn't, my guy-voice would have given me away. But it's really not long now until I'm full-time, and this is just so deeply encouraging. :P