04/27/2021
"Trust trans people."
Now that the surgery is over I can share this little tidbit. Dysphoria is like nothing many people have ever experienced. And transness isn’t what you think.
When I began the process of prepping for my surgery and asking advice, a number of well meaning trans women warned me about an inevitable ask from someone in the chain of my doctors: I would be asked to stop my HRT at least two weeks before surgery and maybe up to a month before. (HRT for those who don’t know, is our estrogen and any necessary anti-androgen medicines to block testosterone.)
Why?
There is a hypothetical risk for those taking oral estrogen or problems with clotting during the surgery. So, there is a hypothetical where taking estrogen could end in your death on an operating table. Scary stuff.
Best I can tell there’s no evidence of that actually happening to anyone ever, just a theoretical possibility.
The first time I heard that, I wanted to cry. I was beside myself. My stomach sank. I had full blown. PTSD style attacks and flashbacks. I was terrified and shaken to my core by the idea of stopping HRT, even just for a month.
I made up my mind that I was going to stockpile my HRT. it wasn’t uncommon for me to have a little extra left over because of scheduling of appointments and the like. I just needed enough to last a month. And I was going to lie through my teeth if I needed to.
My dysphoria was so deep, so intense, and so truly nightmarish that I would rather have died on an operating table than live like that again for a month, a week, or even a day.
I made that calculation. I was OK with the math.
Fortunately, nobody asked me to stop my HRT. My estrogen was continued as prescribed in the hospital and I’ve never been better. But I was prepared to DIE. And that cannot be overstated.
So many people, including people close to me, have questioned my motives in transition: was it for sexual gratification? A kink? A passing fancy? A fad? Was I doing it for fashion? Was I just a gay man?
No. I was a woman in pain. And people, even medical professionals, couldn’t find it in themselves to trust me when I said so. They needed to make it make sense for them before they could deem me worthy of their effort or change.
When my surgery was delayed 10 days before my scheduled date in March, it happened again. I was beside myself. I kept trying to center myself and find calm, only to be ripped out of my center and into a storm of suicidal ideation. My surgery was bumped because it wasn’t as important to one of my surgeons. The last month of my surgery preparations I spent clinging to a shred of hope that that surgeon’s critical eye would not fall on, and deem me unworthy, for a 4th time. I began to have trauma reactions anytime that surgeon’s team called me.
And I hope by being honest and real about this, you’ll see that the same forces that afflicted me afflict many and maybe most trans people. We transition to be allowed, for once, to exist. We want to exist. And HRT and surgery are the cost so many of us pay for existing.
These treatments aren’t optional. Theyre not “cosmetic.” They’re essential. They’re life saving. They’re life giving.
Trust trans people.