Day 1: Make yourself known. Tell the world your name, age, and how you identify. Post a picture of yourself.
Hi! I'm Leo, I'm 31, and I'm a trans man.
Day 2: Talk about your process of discovery and realisation. How did you come to understand yourself to be trans?
I can, if I want to for doctors and other gatekeepers, tell a true version of the story where as a child I always sort of hoped to grow up to be a man. That I was fascinated by stories in which a woman lived as a man, but reliably baffled and upset at the end when the characters came out as women. That I loved running around shirtless with the other neighbourhood kids and felt a sickening dread when I realised I wouldn't always be flat and sharp-angled. That I didn't have a choice other than dressing and styling as my parents chose, but saw myself more as a genderless being. That when I grew up, it took until my early 20s to learn that being trans was an option, but then my desire to transition became harder and harder to suppress, and I realised that while I could tolerate presenting feminine for short periods, it felt like sandpaper on my skin and I only ever felt at ease when presenting masculine.
There's also another true version of the story, where I connected to and was happy with my identity as a woman. Not just in the sense that feminism is important to me, but being in touch with my body, liking certain clothes, using the social roles to my advantage. In that version, my identity changed in my early 20s, and a teenage girl became a trans adult. The first time I met other trans people, upon joining the lgbtq society at university, I didn't really understand them, and it took a few years before different trans friends spoke about their dysphoria and something wrenched inside me, coming out twisted as the thought "but that's how I feel, too, and you don't see me transitioning. Wait, maybe I could."
There's a middle ground, also true, where as soon as I was able to choose clothes for myself I trended more and more butch, finding each step a revelation of joy and comfort (and not being freezing at any dressed-up social occasion, that was pretty fantastic too). That as I did so, I became aware of frustration arising from the gap in how I wished to come across and how I was actually perceived, because it's honestly incredibly difficult and rare for styling to outweigh body and face as gendered characteristics. That is, I craved to be "mistaken" for a guy. Another crack formed when a friend discussed admiring others' feminine energy and I felt a visceral rejection. I realised over time that not only was the presentation pendulum not swinging back to femme at all, but I was setting transition as a reward for myself, considering "ok, when I meet these milestones, I will contact my GP and ask to be referred. I don't deserve it yet, but in the future I can." If it's inevitable, then I may as well get on with it, considering NHS waiting times, so I talked to my GP, cried on a trans friend for an afternoon and then on my partner, and began trialling new names.
Day 3: Talk about coming out. Are you out? Who did you come out to first? How did people in your life react?
I am fully out as a man and with most new people I meet, actually stealth, which is distinct from being closeted. I came out to trans friends while I was in the process of exploration, then close friends and partners, then all friends at once when I'd settled on a course of action and new name. They were almost all happy for me, only one or two baffled and standoffish and bad at using the new name, though a few supportive friends, all women as I recall, were later really quite surprised to find out that I actually intended to medically and legally transition as well as socially.
I told family a bit later, shortly before I had a first appointment with the private gender clinic which would prescribe me testosterone. I thought they would appreciate a face to face conversation, so I told them over lunch when I was visiting for Easter, but I wrote down the main points I wanted to cover in advance and emailed it to them as we sat down. My brother was very calm and chill and supportive. My mother burst into tears, which she now utterly denies ever happened, and we had to go on a walk through the nearby woods to calm down. She seemed to take it on board, but a few weeks later announced that she was driving up to where I lived, on less than a day's notice, and spent more than six hours at my kitchen table tearily grilling me. My poor housemate. A large chunk of that time was repeatedly explaining the concept of bisexuality, which I suspect she still doesn't grasp. She denies that happened too. My father passed away a few years beforehand. I don't know how he would have reacted, but I know he would have loved me.
As far as coming out to organisations goes, I found that despite the UK's reputation, people were mostly just nervous about getting something wrong and it all went pretty smoothly. I do think it's a problem that some of the biggest hassles of transition are frontloaded, in that changing your name everywhere is a pain. I did choose not to come out at work until I gave notice, despite being on T, as the cis are largely oblivious even to things like voice breaking. I worked in retail and did not give a shit about any of these people so why bother. Even after coming out, I brushed off any questions. Anyway, then I moved to Sweden, having changed all my documents over, and though they largely perceived me as a teenage boy, I am now legally male to two governments and did not need to come out further.
Day 4: Talk about transition. Do you want to? What kind of progress have you made? How has the process affected your day to day life? Do you feel your transition is complete?
I consider myself post-transition, by which I mean that transition no longer occupies much of my time or resources, even though I do anticipate further steps. I've been on testosterone for about five years, got top surgery (DI) about three years ago, and got a hysterectomy about six months ago. All of these improved my life enormously.
I am seen as a guy in every part of my life, I have a lovely beard, tons of body hair, my hips vanished, I have blossomed into a bear and love how I look. It's shocking how much easier it is to move through the world as a man. You just get to be a neutral, unremarked-upon human. I don't think I've fully adjusted to that, which the pandemic isolation has not helped with.
I plan to get minor revisions for top this summer (dog ears, maybe nipple tattoos or similar), to make my chest absolutely perfect. I am also coming to realise that I do want phalloplasty, terrifying though it is to contemplate such a massive recovery period, but that's more of a ten-year plan than a near-future one.
Day 5: Talk about dysphoria. Do you experience dysphoria? How does it affect you? What things do you do to cope with it?
I do experience dysphoria, but not very frequently these days. I write that and then immediately remember all the little things that cause it, but it's still true. Pre-transition it was like a combination of a) wearing a really tight, itchy, uncomfortable item of clothing, so you can't move freely and it jabs you and tickles you and is always demanding a portion of your attention b) hearing your recorded voice played back- I don't sound/look like THAT, do I? I also experience it as avoidance or rejection. When I was figuring things out, I would get dressed by trial and error, picking up individual items of clothing to see whether my brain would go "NO" or allow it. That's still how I react to, say, mentions of my old name. I think that I'm more secure and it has no more power over me, but then I subconsciously avoid saying it if the topic comes up, no matter how it tangles my sentences in knots.
I rarely experience physical dysphoria anymore, but I do have some genital dysphoria. I like my body and those parts of it, but I pack most of the time, every day, occasionally even while sleeping. I find it quiets my anxiety, makes me feel secure and grounded.
I do experience euphoria! The first thing that comes to mind is my legs, I love having man legs so much. I love my beard. I love my singing voice. I love my shoulders, my flat chest, my arm hair. I love men's shoes, the thick fabric of men's clothes, men's scents. One of the great things about being trans is the opportunity to experience great joy in everyday moments.