does anyone else get dysphoric about how you hold things? like, your pencil or your phone. cause it fucks me up sometimes
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Well, technically 10 days and a few hours. Waiting is still driving me absolutely insane. I don’t think I have ever felt more impatient in my life. It’s weird how waiting wasn’t a huge deal until suddenly I found out that surgery was actually going to happen in less than two weeks. With this surgery, most of my dysphoria will be gone. Not all of it, I mean even with over a year and a half on T I still see a girl in the mirror rather often, my family still uses the wrong pronouns and it feels like a slap, nothing has really been done about my bottom dysphoria, but its not a huge deal to me since it’s something nobody else can really tell or see. I am fine with waiting for bottom surgery.
We had a change in my recovery plan. Now my parents are coming next weekend to take my stuff out of my dorm for winter break (including my dog and fish) and I will only keep the stuff I need for Monday, Tuesday, surgery, and the first day of recovery. On Tuesday night I will check out of my dorm and stay with my mom at my sister’s, then we will go to surgery Wednesday morning, then we will stay at a hotel that night so that we can get to my one-day post-op appointment on Thursday, then we will drive back to my parents house and stay there for the rest of winter break, driving back up for my one week post-op visit and I think they mentioned also doing a 6 week post-op visit. I have only heard of people having a one-week post-op visit, not so many in-between visits, but I think that is a good thing. We certainly don’t expect any complications and I am a low-risk patient going into a generally low-risk surgery, the lowest risk version of top surgery. I’m prepared for the worst but really I strongly believe everything will be fine. I am not excited about all of the driving, but I can’t really do anything about that.
Everyone is already sick of hearing about surgery but it’s all I can think about. Top surgery is every trans guy’s dream and I am getting it this will be the last year, the last decade that I will have a chest. I never have to go through another summer with a binder, I never have to go through another holiday, another birthday, not even another semester at school with a chest.
It just hit me that I never have to go through another Christmas with a chest. My surgery is on the 18th, so I will be one week post-op on Christmas.
I went shopping for some surgery supplies today. Just some general stuff that everyone has said you need, most things we agreed if I really need them my mom can pick them up so we don’t waste money. I bought:
- a neck pillow
- a bathrobe
- a zip-up hoodie
- some sweat pants
- drinks (apple juice and Gatorade)
- food (fiber cookies because anesthesia tends to make you constipated, some complete cookies, soda crackers, and pretzels)
- a water bottle
- straws
- anti-bacterial soap
- face and body wipes
I have been trying to make the time go by faster by making a very detailed checklist so that I am crossing things off multiple times every day. I am trying to dive into my studies and homework, but I keep getting distracted by how close surgery is. I need to focus otherwise the time is never going to go by.
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With my transition, I have slowly taken on a female form and my masculine form has eased up…but I still dread going into public restrooms with a designated Male & Female restroom.
Last night, while out late in the evening, I was very nauseated and bloated, which seems to come around each month like clockwork and I played a gambling game with my body for 10 hours as I came many times to vomiting!
Around 2am in the morning, we went out for breakfast at Shari’s restaurant in Port Orchard, Washington and the smell of grease sent me racing off to the restroom as I came to a choice: Male or Female?
Now, I’ve been here, even worked here for two years as a cook and have graced the Male restroom many times and know of the two, it might see 1 patron every 6-10 minutes. Whereas the Female restroom is like grand central station, seeing 1 patron every 3-5 minutes (which is just a rough observation when you watch the restrooms debating on going or not).
Many times, over the past months I have delayed using the restroom out of fear from my safety. And now with vomiting only seconds away, I found myself making mental notes:
- ‘How many men did I see coming in?’
- ‘How many females did I see coming in?’
- ‘What are their ages?’
- ‘Are they mentally stable?’
- ‘If I use the male restroom, will I get the crap beaten out of me for being Trans?’
- ‘If I use the female restroom, will I be called a pervert?’
- ‘If I use female restroom, will I visibly pass?’
I had about 7 seconds to calculate the results and adding the fact that it is only 2am in the morning, and only maybe 12 people in the store…I felt safer taking my first plunge in a woman’s restroom.
Anatomically, I’m male…but they don’t know that. And from what I’ve noticed, if you dress feminine and have breasts, you are automatically female. When I dress masculine and bound my chest (really painful to do that now!), I’m automatically male.
Inside, I look around…it looks and feels no different. I rush to a stall and get sick and then decide after throwing up dinner, to sit there in the restroom to recover (as no one wants to see ‘after-getting-sick you) and relieve myself as I know much about typical sounds in a female restroom from living in a house ruled by females…even taught at an early stage that whenever I use the restroom for any business, sit down and when done, wipe-up…and even to this day I still fall into the routine…hell…I did not know you were allow to stand to pee until I was in 5th grade!
Concluded, it was a guessing game of how long it would take before someone came in and I would have to make a determination to wait for them to leave or brave it.
Getting comfortable with myself and figuring that I’ll just put my best foot forward, I exited the stalls and washed up as I looked at myself, trying to see if I would be yelled at for being in here. Although I doubt my face has changed much; I see someone feminine instead of masculine and it has helped me in social situations…and I have around a 90% correct-gender identification since wearing feminine clothes and no longer binding my chest.
I looked at the door, just dreading the awkwardness if anyone came in and decided I’ve got lucky, so I better leave now before my luck runs out. Outside, I breathe easy as I walk back to my table, feeling much better…and to think…I paid ten hours of agony for this 3 minute escape.
0Trans/nb culture is using other trans/nb people’s chosen names, but also judging them hardcore for it.
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trans girls: I think I’ll call myself Samantha
trans guys, wearing Victorian boy clothes: I want to be called Duke Elliot Fernand the Fifth
nonbinary ppl: call me r̵̡̡̢̢͕̭̳̣̺̣̖̒̿̏͑̅̑͜͠o̵̢̳̠͈̮̯̤̗̳̿̀̑̍̈́͝ͅc̶̢̲͇̝̥̥͌͊̾̃̔ͅk̶̛̦̮̖̰̦̠̞̭̜̞̻̤̿̏̍̀͆̄̂̿
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I’ve been on hrt for 1 year 8 months now. 🥳 I went out clothes shopping for the first time in a while. Was shocked to find out I wear an XS for tops and I’m a size 4 waist. Come a long way from my size 18 waist pre hrt. 😅
12My dad: gives me a card to sign
Me: cycles through half the names I’ve gone by, trying to remember which name I’m using
3Just in case you were doubting yourself, here’s a reminder that you are non-binary enough.
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