"Disgruntle" should be a prizewinning hog

Had an interesting and disgruntling experience eating lunch this morning. The waiter came over to our table shortly after my lunch compatriot and I had put down our menus, and paused. He glanced at me, then looked over at her. I looked up and started to order, but then diverted course when I realized he was paying no attention to me at all.

Eli: "Yes, I'll have the....uh, after you..." (gestures across the table)
Waiter, to me, not turning: "I knew you had some manners."

So she ordered, and then I did, and then he left the table and I was left fuming, for reasons that I'm now trying to fully unpack. I realize that it is convention for women to order first, and it is my instinct to defer to that convention. I almost always do. However, I recognize that such gendered convention (and its counterparts, like the check being handed to me, etc) can be frustrating for my dining compatriots, and it is a rather classic example of binary gender norms just begging to be deconstructed. So sometimes, like this morning, I try to break it down just a bit and order first, or wave the check towards someone else, or something. That was myfirst reason for stepping up like that. Though, to be fair, also playing into it was the fact that I was real hungry, and I wasn't sure if my compatriot had quite decided what she was ordering, and there was a brief pause in which no one was speaking, so I jumped in.

I think the reason that I felt so disgruntled is that I was unhappy that my attempt to be radical was so neatly deflated, and also I was defensive about being questioned about my manners...which is an especially loaded feeling for me, since so much of my masculine identity is tied up in being a chivalrous gentleman. I know that a gentleman is supposed to defer to the ladies at the table. I also know that "lady" is the last word that should be used to describe my lunch companion.

But I was feeling just shaky enough (I knew that I was jumping in, and I'm not used to it) to be stopped in my tracks when he called me out. And he was insulting my manliness (what kind of guy are you, that doesn't let her order first?) and he knew it, and I knew it, and I had a moment of whiny defensiveness when I wanted to say "Hey, I know that! I'm a gentleman usually! It's just that I was being radical!"

And then I was frustrated with myself for getting defensive, and letting it get under my skin like that. Because then I was second-guessing my motivations (Maybe I was just being rude?) because claiming that I was busting down the binary gender system is no excuse for rudeness. But hey, I don't want to be shamed out of my (admitedly small scale) revolution, either.

So yeah. Plus, I was again a bit taken aback by the intensity of my disgruntlement. This ties in to what I was talking about the other day, with my newly T-shortened temper, and how I'm still noticing it, and I'm nervous about it, and I'm not sure yet how to respond to it. I'm starting to recognize how it works, and there are interesting parallels to the changes in my sex drive.

Just like my sex drive, it's primarily not a quantity thing. I maybe think about sex more than I used to, but I've always thought about it a lot. Likewise, I get annoyed or disgruntled about things more than I used to, but I still don't very often, because I never did very much. Instead, it seems to be mostly about intensity and persistence. It's much harder to ignore sexual thoughts, or stop thinking about them, or put them to the back of my mind. They're more persistent, and intense. Likewise, it's much harder to just let go of little annoyances- something that might not have even been a significant blip on my rader can make me huff and puff a little under my breath. It's harder to let things go, and I get annoyed/frustrated much more quickly and intently.

Weird, huh?

In therapy this morning Amy and I talked about developing a new skill set to deal with these emotions, should they start to settle in for good. She said something about isn't it funny how our selves turn out to be chemically based, and I remembered that yes. This is better living through chemistry, and it's powerful stuff I'm working with here. These emotions and feelings are real, and they aren't going to just go away- I'm sure everything is going to keep settling in while my hormone levels are newly fluctuated- but I'm going to have to learn how to exist with a slightly different temperment.

She suggested a regimen of, essentially, Feel. Breathe. React. In other words, when I start to feel something, take a couple of deep breaths for a moment or two and really try to understand what I'm feeling, why I'm feeling it, what might be the factors, what are my (new) instincts about reacting, and what does my sensible self think about reacting. Then, once I've figured it out for a second, carry on as normal.

Seems kinda silly when I write it out, this very elementary self-control excercise. I think it's going to help, though, because I've already recognized that the best way for me

It has worked- this morning, it helped me deflate my disgruntlement with the waiter by breathing until the moment passed, discussing something else for a second, and then not getting into it while it was still stinging with this disgruntlement. Now, clearly, I can take my time to pick apart the situation and understand what was happening, and I feel fine about it. A little bit of lingering disgruntlement, maybe, but I'm mostly interested in it now as an anecdote. So let's hear it for measured thinking, and deliberate distance.

Actually, if I do it right, I think this necessity for reigning in any flares of temper is going to be good for me. It's going to make me more mindful of what it means to be even-tempered and calm, by making me work for it a little more, so I think I'll have a more thoughtful perspective on things. Also, there have been times when my default amiable nature has not worked in my favor....I wouldn't, as some have, ever use the word pushover to describe myself, but hey, it's been said. Maybe if I'm instinctually a little more aggressive, I will be more likely to stand up for myself?

---

In other news, I can't stop touching my face. So fuzzy! I haven't shaved since Monday morning, and it's now thursday evening, and I am one scruffy, stubbly dude. I wish I could take pictures of it and post on here to brag, but I think it's probably a good thing that I can't. Y'all don't need to see close-ups of my pores and my proudly patchy facial scruff. It's still nothing to be proud of...can't even think of growing it out yet. I really should've been shaving this week, but I was busy, and then not at my house, etc. Anyway, I've got stubble on my face, and I really like running my hand over it. Plus, it's still soft right now! It's too new and fine to be anywhere near sandpapery yet. Awesome.

I'm getting my 6th shot tomorrow, so maybe I'll give another T-diary style rundown of changes soon. I can't tell if I'm trying to make assessments too frequently- maybe I should give it longer between rundowns, so there will be more to report. At the same time, I've never been one to skimp on the self-analysis. Why start now?

so I don't have to dream alone

Twice in the last three days I've had anxiety dreams about my upcoming chest surgery. I don't know what this is about! Ask me while I'm awake how I'm feeling about August 9th, and I'll tell you straight up how excited I am about it. This surgery is the pinnacle of my summer- it's going to make me so much happier and more comfortable in my daily being. I can't tell you how many times a day I think wistfully of wearing only one layer of shirt, of sitting on my fire escape in just jeans, of looking in the mirror while I brush my teeth and not frowning a little at my reflection, of pulling someone in close to my chest and not feeling anything in the way between me and them. so good, it's going to be!

I know that any surgery has its risks, and shouldn't be done lightly. Anesthesia is no joke, and no doctor is perfect. This surgery carries its own specific risks ("I'm sorry, we did everything we could, but....your right nipple didn't pull through. I'm sorry. It's in a better place now.") and there's going to be discomfort, etc, afterwards. But I'm not scared. I've been under anesthesia before, and something tells me that being under anesthesia for hours while doctors are messing with your heart was a little more intense than just three hours of a procedure which, while somewhat invasive, doesn't mess with anything deeper than skin and surface tissue. So I'm not so worried about having surgery, per se. Why am I having these anxiety dreams, then?

Now that I think about it some more, though, the dreams have mostly been about me being afraid of fucking up after the surgery, and somehow causing things to go wrong. In the first one, I dreamt that I went back home before my drains were out, or my stiches removed...somehow without noticing...so that the doctor called me and said "Why'd you go home, you need to be here for your followup!" and I was already back in Portland. I woke up really freaked out from that dream. Then this morning, I dreamt that I was home after surgery, back in my old high school, somehow, and I was trying to get home, but I had things I needed to bring with me and I knew I couldn't carry them because I wasn't supposed to lift anything heavy. But I couldn't find anyone who would help me carry stuff home, and so I kept carrying them myself without thinking about it, and then I'd notice I was lifiting something, and immediately drop it and worry about whether I was messing up my incisions.

That first one is just sort of silly, but this second one is somewhat related to something I was wondering about yesterday. I don't have a good sense of how impaired I am going to be after surgery - how long is it going to be before I've got full function back? I know I have to take it real easy for a couple of weeks, but am I going to be able to navigate getting home from the airport with my suitcase two weeks after surgery? Am I going to be able to reach books off the top shelves when I go back to work the next day? I don't know how things are going to go. So I guess I am a little anxious about that.

Still, these dreams can stop already! I've got less than fifty days til I go under the knife, and at the rate of two anxious dreams every few days, that's more sleepy stress than I need in my life.

pandora's box

This week for the first time I had some pangs of worry about my transition and how I'm changing. Overwhelmingly, my feelings since starting T have been positive and excited and thrilled- I've been welcoming the hormone induced adjustments and developments to my body. I've got my rough idea of what to expect, based on everything I've learned from my transman buddies, both in real life and via the internet, and I've been gratified as each expected milestone is reached. Ah, here comes my sideburn stubble, and there goes my voice roughening and squeaking, and there are a few hints of muscle definition even as my proto-sixpack abs start to recede under a little padded belly.

But then there are the changes that are harder to quantify, and which I haven't really expected nor anticipated, and honestly, they're making me a little nervous.

These being the mental, emotional, mood changes that I've been noticing, and it's enough to drive a guy really crazy because they're so subjective and minor and at the same time definite. Taking T has some rather cliched effects (anger, aggression, high libido, incommunicative) and there are some moods I've been in lately (impatient, frustrated, walled-up) which seem to overlap. I'm trying to find some way to understand this that neither blames every little grumpy moment on the T, nor ignores the fact that hormones are powerful substances that have strong effects on behaviour and feelings.

It's hard, because I've been envisioning this transition in a lot of ways as a series of small (or not so small) adjustments to myself. Sure, you could say I'm radically changing my life. But I also see that I'm just becoming more and more of myself...that is, I'm not really changing, I'm still me, just with slightly more pleasing packaging.

But what do I mean when I say that? Who is this me that's staying the same? I think of myself as tenderhearted, eager to please, thoughtful, sensitive (sometimes overly), laidback, reasonable. My moods and personality and reaction to things, that's what make up me, right?

But lately, I've been having moments of uncharacteristic behavior, and I don't really like it, and I'm worried that the T is in some way 'changing my personality.'

There's one thing that's been easy to identify, and easy to deal with: I get frustrated more easily. Particularly in situations where I'm being thwarted in some way, or forced to wait for something that I think should happen faster: waiting for a check in a restaurant, waiting in a doctor's office, waiting on the subway. Particularly if there's no immediately apparent reason why I should be waiting (the waiter isn't busy, there's no one else in the office, we're stopped between stations on the tracks). I can feel the frustration coming quickly, but it's easy to recognize, and easier to deal with once recognized. I can talk myself down, or , I've discovered, I can circumvent it if I use the time in a way that no longer feels like my time is being wasted- read a book, or have a necessary conversation with whomever I'm waiting with.

I've been noticing that for a little while, and it's clearly only been happening since I've been on T, and I'm not stressed about it. Learning new ways of managing a suddenly more surfacable impatience is probably good for me. Builds character.

But (especially this past week) I've been having these...moods, and I'm not sure if I'm just having a moody week, or if it's a T thing, or what, but it makes me nervous if it is, because I don't particularly like them. I've had a shorter temper. Something will happen, something that I feel like I should be able to accept without a qualm, and it'll raise little hackles of disgruntlement. Or I'll be quiet (not quite sullen) but withdrawn compared to my usual exuberance and not be able to explain it. And just the other day I remembered an incident that happened in the past, that was not upsetting at the time, and it made me kinda mad when I thought about it again.

I don't want to leap to conclusions ("Oh god, T is turning me into a mean jerk!") for a variety of reasons, not least because I feel like my sample is inadequate to decide that these moods have been solely T induced. Also because there are other factors which may be accounting for the various moods (time gives a change of perspective, the fact that I've been kinda tired and busy and generally feeling a bit overextended this week) that have come up.

But I really don't like being cranky, or angry, or grumpy, or frustrated. It's why I don't like fighting, and I really really don't like shouting. I pride myself on being calm, and amiable/accomodating, and even-tempered. Being angry makes me uncomfortable- I'd much rather be reasonable/rational about something and talk it out. I don't know quite how to deal with little surges of temper, and while I think I've been handling them fine (mostly by being startled after about a minute, wondering where the heck these feelings are coming from, and then trying to dissect them with my rational reasoning until I can determine the source and how to fix the trouble), I'm also a bit nervous about what this means for me. Am I going to lose my favorite bits of myself?

And even more broadly, to get away from Eli-specifics for a minute, what does this mean about what transitioning means? Or what gender is? For lots of transmasculine folks, transition is centered around injecting testosterone. What does testosterone really do to you?

Clearly, it does different things for every person. And keeping track of moods and feelings is much more difficult than keeping track of how many new chin hairs you found this week, or what your biceps measure these days, or even recording voice clips and comparing them.

(Brief interjection: the other night Rochelle played back for me a voicemail that I'd left for her earlier that day. My first thought "Ha! That dude has my same speech patterns!" Second thought: "Gee, guess my voice IS changing. Better get some permanent recordings of it while I still can.")

I've talked before about how my transition means for me a chance to learn how to occupy my place in the world, and learn how to be a man the best way I know how- learn how to be my own kind of man, by learning about what "man" means now, and taking that knowledge and going new places with it...taking the bits I like (responsible, strong, flat-chested) and leaving the bits I don't (privileged and unaware of it, tall, non-removable penis).

But part of the deal of hormones and puberty is that you DON'T get to pick and choose. I'm going to get the acne along with the sideburns, and it looks like maybe I'm going to get the frustratingly short temper along with the stable sense of self.

One of my big comforts is that puberty is supposed to be a time of confusing and hard to handle emotions and moods, right? Maybe this shorter temper is a function of being a person with plenty of testosterone in my body, but I've only been such a person for 3 months. I think with a little more time, I'll have better practice at wrangling my moods where I want 'em to go.

So that's what I've been telling myself during my brief moments of worry this weekend. "What if I've started injecting something into my body every two weeks that's going to make me grumpy and cranky and no fun?"

"Well, young Eli, don't count your chickens yet, and don't underestimate your ability to eventually rule your own roost."

(was that metaphor a bit too awkward? emotions and moods as chickens, still hatching and fluffy, but then in a while will be more settled, once i'm hormonally stable, and then they'll be the grown up chickens in the roost but I'll still be able to be in charge of myself and my thoughts? hence the ruling of the roost? uh yeah. I thought maybe it was. amendment to goal: regain even keel, and develop more adept metaphors.)
--
Also, today is Father's Day. Cheers to dads everywhere, and here's to being a dad myself someday!

mirror, mirror

Had a really interesting therapy session with Amy today. We covered a whole lot of topics, but there's one that has been sticking with me this afternoon, partly because I haven't ever given it a lot of thought before, and that is the troubling intersection of eating disorders and transmasculine identity.

We were talking about self-image among transmasculine folks- how hard it is to develop a good (positive, accurate, healthy) sense of self when there aren't a whole lot of cultural reference points to go by, and what reference points exist are often fraught and problematic. That is to say, I'm trying to develop a sense of myself as a guy, and I'm trying to get a handle on my body, and how I feel about it. Looking to the world around me for masculine referents, I run into trouble sometimes when I try to compare myself to the guys I see around me, especially if I'm walking around in Chelsea! Those muscle boys can give anyone a complex.

On the other hand, trying to remember that everyone has their own bodies and body issues is, well, not only an oversimplification, but also an exercise in isolation. I need points of reference, and to be able to see myself reflected in others, even if it's funhouse mirror style.

But when I try to place myself into the context of the transmasculine community, uncomfortable tensions can unfold if I start, as is all to easy to do, comparing myself to other guys and either making unrealistic predictions ("Ooh, he's been on T for 18 months and he's got washboard abs...Only 16 months to go and then I'll have washboard abs, too!" Uh, yeah, or maybe he also does 500 crunches every morning.) or start giving myself a hard time ("He looks so much more like a dude than me. I'm not trans enough!") in all sorts of really messed up ways.

So all of this (as I was discussing with Amy) is not unique to me, and can be a veritable breeding ground for disordered eating. Particularly with transmasculine folks, who are often trying to look more masculine, and are often thwarted by curvy figures. Lose weight, and where do you often lose first? Hips, breasts, thighs...All body places that are heavily gendered as feminine. Plenty of guys want to lose those feminizing curves. I know I do.

Almost all of my issues with my body and my sense that I'm not particularly attractive are wrapped up in my gender. When I look in the mirror and I don't like what I see, most of the time it's because I'm not seeing a guy. That's getting better as I'm letting myself relax and learn about different masculinities, but I haven't been culturally indoctrinated for nothing. All these years of the different kinds of maleness don't just fade away.

I know for myself, I never had any trouble with my body until I started looking at it in a (trans)gendered manner. I remember being in middle school and starting to hear my peers complain about their bodies- thighs too big, breasts too small, whatever. I remember thinking (in that precocious, meta, self-analytic way that I had as a kid) that I was lucky not to be "one of those adolescent girls with body image issues."

And then I grew up and started getting naked with people and started facing my body as more than just the thing under my clothes, and it was a whole 'nother story. Then I looked at my large butt and thought about how unmasculine it looked, started hunching my shoulders to hide my chest.

All eating disorders are heavily gendered, of course- it seems like everyone's issues with their bodies stem from not feeling like "real" men or women, for whatever reason. But for me, instead of feeling like not a good enough girl, I started feeling like not a good enough guy...and it's that much harder to feel like an okay guy when you aren't even cut from the same cloth as the hegemonic mock-up.

So, what to do? Seems like eating disorders are often as much about control as they are about image, per se...for folks whose lives feel unmanageable or out of their control, at least they can be in charge of what they eat. That's got tricky ramifications for trans folks who want to medically transition but, for whatever reason, can't- too young, no insurance, no money, no support. They're seeking to modify their bodies, lose those parts that feel girly, and if they can't do it through hormones or surgery, maybe they'll try to do it by not eating. And hey, lose enough weight and you stop bleeding, too- another goal of many trans guys.

How do you approach someone whose disorded eating is based in a gendered body dysphoria?

A lot of the literature and ideology behind recovering from eating disorders and being body-positive have slogans like "Love your body!" and "Learn to accept yourself for how you are!" Which are great slogans...but are not the encouragement I would offer to many trans folks. I'm intensely uncomfortable and dysphoric in my body...don't tell me to love my body!

It made me sad, and uncomfortable, and unhappily aware of how tricky these intersections of issues can be. Amy said it was a big issue they talk about at Callen Lorde when they're talking about trans health, especially for youth. It made me think again about why I keep putting "hit the gym" on the top of my to do lists, even though I clearly don't have it prioritized enough to actually do it all that often.

And furthermore- and we talked about this in group, some, and I think I'll write more about it when I've let it chew through my brain a little further- I have to admit that on some level, I think it's legitimate for me to want a typically masculine male body. I'm trying to parse apart what I really want, and why, so that I can balance that with what I can and can't accomplish, and scrape out some peace of mind (and body) for myself.

But it's hard! Because I think it's problematic that my ass/thighs/hips make me uncomfortable in their enormity- I can tell that's coming from cultural indoctrination that says that guys don't have big butts (and really, neither should girls, but it's definitely a girl thing) and that is messed up on so many levels. For on thing, plenty of non-trans guys have wide hips and full thighs...back to remembering how everyone has their own complications, right?

On the other hand, I'm never going to be happy about having breasts, because I'm a guy, and guys don't have breasts (though again, I've seen the occasional non-trans man with a bigger rack than me). So I'm having them removed in less than two months, and I think that's important and valid and good.

So...is it okay for me to pick and choose what parts of my gendered body image likes and dislikes are okay?

Gender Goals 2006

The other night in the Transmasculine Group at the Center, we went around and did brief introductions- trying to get a sense of each other, why we were there, our comfort levels and histories and plans. It was nice, and too brief, and made me think (always good) about where I am and where I'm going and what kind of progress my travel has made.

I'm not sure what I said exactly- it's always hard to articulate myself on the spot- but I've been thinking about it since then. So I thought maybe I'd do a little update on the progress of my various Gender Goals. I keep a lot of little running lists in my head of Things I'm Working On, and one of the lists on the top of the mental stack (naturally) is the gender list. I made a bunch of goals for this year, and I'm pretty much on top of them.

1) Start T and have top surgery in 2006

Well, this one is coming along famously! I've been on T for...uh...I guess 10 weeks, now? I just got my 5th shot. There were some bumps at the beginning- I was going to get started March 20th, and ended up pushing it back and back again due to logistical hiccups at the clinic, and ended up getting my first shot on April 10th. Things are going real well...I keep noticing more and more changes. I think it's starting to pick up speed. I'll give the usual update after my next shot, but suffice it to say that I'm getting hairier by the minute. Also, noticing a few emotional/mental changes for the first time, which are rather interesting, and which I'm not convinced yet are not figments of my hypersensitive imagination. So I'm going to give it a few more weeks, see if I can establish further patterns before I make any proclamations.

2) Figure out my name once and for all

And I have! My name is Elliott John. Eli J. I finally decided a few weeks ago, and have been quietly letting it sit to see how it feels. It keeps getting more and more comfortable, and I've started practicing a new signature, so I'm pretty sure this is it. I was pulled in by the strong family history (someday soon I'll recount the story of the two Johns who were my great grandfathers), and by the unassuming strength of the name. I suppose I could've been, as my father pointed out, "a touch more creative," but I like the balance of John against Elliott. I'm not an entirely flamboyant fellow, after all.

Now, I just have to figure out when I want to get my name legally changed. It's a bit of a process, involving both time and money- going to court with the documents, returning once it gets approved, taking the decree to be published in the newspaper, paying everyone lots of $$, etc. That's not really trouble, except that I'd need to then get new ID with my new name on it, and I've already purchase plane tickets (back and forth to the West Coast) with my old name. I was thinking I could just keep my old Oregon ID when I go to the DMV, and show them other documentation, and say I lost my old wallet. Then in August, I could just take the ticket and show it to them with my old ID and hope that my burgeoning stubble wouldn't blow the whole gig. Or I could wait until after August to change anything, but that has two notable drawbacks, mostly being that I'd have to wait longer to get a license that I wouldn't be embarassed to show anyone. Which ties into the second drawback, which is that my 21st birthday is in September, and I'd like to be able to use an authentic, real ID for that occasion. Or I could try to change the name on the plane tickets, and bring along an affadavit of name change, and before-and-after ID, and hope the airlines understand. hmp.

3) Find a trans community for myself

This one seemed a bit daunting when I made it up last year, since the term "trans community" is altogether too ambitious a term to really use with ease. But lucky for me, I didn't have to define it, I just wanted to find it...and I have, in spades. It was jumpstarted when I started going to the transmasculine drop in group at the Center on Wednesdays- I met a whole slew of really fantastic guys all at once. I remember coming home from that first meeting with my heart beating fast and my head overflowing. The moderators had passed around a piece of paper with possible topics and questions for discussion listed on it, and I took it home and folded it and propped it up beside my bed, so that first thing in the morning I could open my eyes and read "How do we as people of trans experience navigate our histories and incorporate them into our present and future?" and "What is our vision of masculinity?" and suchlike.

Slowly but surely, I feel like I'm coming deeper into this trans/queer community and social circle through all manner of routes. The friendships I'm making fold back on one another, and connect to each other in myriad ways- friends I met at group will show up at someone else's birthday party, and we'll realize again that we're all one big happy family in this small queer world.

It's done me a world of good to have other transmasculine folks to hang out with and strategize with, talk to and connect with. I really needed people to look to for support, and I'm starting to feel like maybe folks look to me, too. It's good for me to feel solid enough to be someone that other folks look to.


4) Become more comfortable with my own self and my own masculinity, rather than wistfully and dysphorically and somewhat hypocritically aspiring to hegemonic masculinity.

Speaking of being solid: as I've been writing lately, this goal is coming along quite nicely as well! I finally feel like I'm settling into myself, rather than hurtling towards some unknown future Eli.

I know that I'm changing right now, but I feel much more like I'm changing as a person, not changing as a transsexual. By which I mean, I'm 20 years old and barely a year out of college. Of course I'm changing at a breakneck pace! But I don't feel like my changes are resting on my gender- rather, I'm settling into myself and still making adjustments to my gender, but now I have a strong sense of who I am. It feels good. I keep mentioning the word solid- it's my new favorite adjective.

Not least because my body is changing- I've always associated masculine bodies with being solid. The few times I've been on, uh, intimate terms with guys, I've always been intrigued (and envious) of how solid their bodies felt. Now, I'm feeling better than ever about myself because I'm feeling that same sense, both because my body is becoming more traditionally masculine, but also because I'm learning more about different sources of masculinity within myself. I can look to that solidity to come from myself and my actions, both in accordance with and in opposition to the masculinity I've been comparing myself to in the rest of the world.

But speaking of feeling about my body- I'm also discovering, to my chagrin, that I've got body image issues within the context of the transmasculine community. I'm doing much better about not looking at myself through a hegemonic lens- that is, I'm not trying so hard to see myself as masculine with a normatively masculine man as my guide. And it's really good for me to place myself within a context of other transmasculine folks, because 1) it's beautiful to fully experience gender as a spectrum...to really experience that, not just believe it as a theory, but be a part of a community where people express themselves on all parts of a gendered spectrum and 2) I like being able to see myself reflected back at me from folks who have gone through similar experiences.

The danger there, though, is assuming that I'm going to follow the same mold just because I'm trans. I need to center on myself and my own possibilities and potential, because it'll give me a complex if I spend too much time looking at other transguys and wistfully eying their broad shoulders or six-pac abs.

--
and as a final bonus, I'm going to leave you with visual evidence of my increasing manliness. It's pretty goofy in some ways, but it's a flattering photo (it's from a good angle, so I look manly) and I think pretty accurate. Note the broad shoulders! The curly-ish hair! (confirming the hypothesis that T makes one's hair curly? I hope so- I've always wanted curly hair) The so chic party hat!

squawk

My voice is becoming an interesting variable, not under my control at all. It's been dropping, but then sliding back up again. Last week, I could feel my deeper tone and resonance, and today, I can't tell that it's changed at all.

Perhaps that's just me getting used to the change? Maybe this feels normal now, and it'll take another drop before I can feel that my voice is getting deeper.

I left myself a voicemail the other day so I could try to hear my own voice and see if it's changed, but I (somewhat disappointedly) couldn't really hear a noticeable difference. Again, though, it could be that I'm not very good at remembering what I used to sound like- maybe if I had a recording to play side by side, it'd be more apparent.

I know that it is dropping, though. More friends are commenting on it (I startled my friend Wane last night by dropping my voice as low as I could make it. Eli as Barry White. ha!) and I can usually feel the difference.

It's more unreliable than it's ever been, though. I'm a bit nervous about karaoke on Thursday, because I really don't have control over this voice of mine- who knows if it's going to start getting squeaky, or stay low?

I'm getting my 5th shot tomorrow (hurrah!), so maybe that'll precipitate another drop. I know it's unrealistic to hope to someday have my dad's radio-smooth baritone, but hey. A kid can dream.

that's the truth about men

It takes me about 13 minutes to walk to work in the morning, closer to 10 if I pick up the pace. It's a nice walk, most of it along and through Morningside park, pretty quiet- most folks are already at work or in school, so at quarter to ten I've got the park mostly to myself. I really like my walking commute, for a number of reasons, including the intense stairs through the park that (hopefully) contribute to my manly physique, the chance to be in a little bit of nature (trees! grass! rocks!), the good fortune to breath fresh air (such as it is in the city) instead of subway fumes on my way to work. But not least of all, I like it because it gives me a few minutes to think before I really start my day, as I switch between rumbling around half dressed and bleary eyed in my apartment and standing more or less crisply behind the desk at the library.

Oftentimes, I think about this blog, and entries that I have half started, either saved on blogger or in my brain. I get a lot of good blog writing done in my head on the way to work, and then later when I'm sitting down in front of the keyboard, I have to try to close my eyes and put myself back in the park to try to recapture a particularly apt turn of phrase that came to me. Was I already on the stairs when I had that thought, or was it waiting to cross the intersection at 119th?

Today, I had some interesting thoughts bubble into my head while I was walking to work, and I thought for once I'd get them down before they faded.

I spent last night having dinner with Rochelle and an old friend of hers. He was a sweet guy, a high school science teacher, good looking, thoughtful and well-spoken and considerate. I had a brief flash of envy over his very even facial stubble, but overall my impression was "Gosh. What a good guy."

It made me realize that I don't hang out with that many guys, and I don't hang out with ANY straight guys, and, well, I rather wish I did. I never did have many guy friends growing up, and while I hang out with many more guys now than I ever did before, most of them are trans and almost all of them are queer, and I rather wish I had a bit more insight into the life and experience of straight, cisgendered men. I want to know what it's like to be a non-trans guy. Maybe partly out of wistfulness, but also from plain curiosity. Straight guys are pretty much the mystery demographic to me- they're the one group of people whom I don't flirt with, don't know much about, and don't interact with much socially.

You could even look at it as being one aspect of my personality that I'm not particularly in touch with. I mean, I've been a 'girl'- first when I was young, and I was briefly assumed to be straight, as everyone is. Then I was a queer girl...that sounds funny even to type it, but I was. I was a babydyke of the first degree. Now I'm a guy, and I'm definitely a queer guy- I haven't dated many (any? making out doesn't count as dating, I suppose) guys, but that doesn't mean I'm not queer as a three dollar bill. and I'm certainly most comfortable describing myself as a queer guy.

But being a straight guy...well, for one thing, despite all of the lovely women I've had and do have in my life, I still don't know much about what it means to be a straight guy. Most of my relationships have been explicity lesbian, and even now continue to be rather lesbionic (not that there's anything wrong with processing!) and ever since Olivia's sincerely befuddled inquiry when I first mentioned being trans to her our freshman year of college ("But, Dude...why would you want to join the patriarchy?") I've been worried about becoming straight. Not that I don't want to be a guy who dates girls (certainly not), and not that there's anything wrong with heterosexuality per se, but I don't want to uncermoniously be absorbed into the dominant culture as I absorb testosterone into my body.

I certainly know, though, that a large portion of that worry comes from uncertainty. I don't really know what it means to be a straight guy- all I'm operating with is my understanding of the hegemonic masculinity that is so steeped in our culture that I can't miss it. I don't really understand from a close perspective how straight masculinity operates, and I certainly don't know much about how to take it and make it your own. Make something good out of it, be a good man, as so many men do.

And that's what I was reminded of last night- that's the kind of quietly radical masculinity that I'm lacking in my life. I'm so lucky to be surrounded by folks who are at the forefront of the gender revolution, subverting the binary like there's no tomorrow, and I belong to that community and I'm glad of it. But I know that I want to be around, and learn about, and learn from the guys who aren't breaking the chains of masculinity so much as just adjusting them for a better fit. There's a radical power there, too, I think.

Pronominal Form

I've received a couple of emails recently that have contained comments in them that have prompted some interesting and not uncomplicated thoughts about pronouns.

I've had the delight (luxury, almost) of not really thinking to much about my pronouns these days, because pretty much everyone in my life calls me he now. It's really lovely not to have to think about passing, or being she'd, or what have you.
In fact, before I launch into this discussion, I have to say that while I continue to think about my gender a lot these days, I'm no longer worrying about it all the time. My thinking and processing is much less anxious- I'm not stressing out about this transition. I'm being mindful, and thoughtful, instead of self-critical. Perhaps I'm still over-analyzing, but I feel like it's coming from a better place these days. So that's good.

Anyway, these emails both contained just one line about pronouns that threw me off.

One of these emails was from somone who was mentioning a friend of hers who has apparently rather recently come out as FTM, rather late in life. Near the end of the email, she wrote "I still often call him "her," which is something you may be used to!!"

That has stuck with me over the cpast week or so, as has an excerpt from a second email from another friend who's coming to visit.

"...because I don't ever want to be that person who slips up and she's you and ruins your weekend."

For both of these emails, my dominant reaction is to be glad that the person in question is reaching out, and being proactive in their support. I'm looking forward to seeing them in person- they're both coming to New York soon- and I'm not at all concerned about either of them interacting with me now that I'm Eli.

But at the same time, I want to figure out why those sentences have stuck with me like little burrs this past week. The conclusion I've come to is that my reactions to both of these comments are coming from a similar place- that is, a sort of mild indignation and defensiveness at the implication that female pronouns should have such power over me, or even a place in my life.

Regarding the first statement, I find myself getting a bit defensive. My retort is that no, actually, I'm not used to people in my life calling me she. I'm used to people in my life recognizing me as the guy that I am. I'm also used to the people in my life who know about my trans identity, and who knew me as female, respecting me and calling me by my preferred pronoun.

At the same time, I recognize that being able to say that so unequivocally is a new piece of privilege, one that's steadily developing as I physically transition and become more evidently and entirely male in my appearance. It's not perfect now, by any means, but people who meet me these days generally don't question my manhood, and I like it that way. That's only going to be more consistent as my transition continues. Also, pretty much all of my friends and family are well acquainted with Eli now, and don't ever slip up. I can't remember the last time someone close to me called me 'she.'

But there was a time in the not too distant past when I did have to endure folks calling me 'she' rather frequently, whether because they didn't know me and were reading me as female, or because they used to know me as female, and hadn't gotten used to the pronoun shift yet. And my word choice (endure) is deliberate here, because it was uncomfortable at best, and downright painful at worst, and it wasn't something that I was 'used' to, ever. It was something I put up with, until the people who cared about and respected me put forth the effort to stop making me uncomfortable.

But even as I type that sentence, I recognize that it's not quite fair. I know how hard it is to reconceptualize someone that you've known for years in one light, by one pronoun, who is now asking you to change your thinking. It's hard to change your thinking. It's hard for me to use gender neutral pronouns for my friends who request them, because they don't come naturally to me. It's hard for me to remember to use a new name for folks I know who decide to go by their full name instead of a nickname, or a middle name, or any new name. I have to be very careful and conscientious, and I mess up sometimes. It's hard!

Which is why I feel like a bit of a hypocrite for being also uneasy about the mention of pronouns from my other friend's email.

My first inclination upon reading that sentence, and what has been in my head this week, was to respond with "Well, just calling me 'she' isn't going to ruin my weekend! I'm stronger than that." I know that my friends are trying hard, and that one mistake doesn't have the power to invalidate me, just as strangers who have erroneous assumptions and erroneous pronoun usage, too, aren't that important in the long run. They need to be corrected, maybe, but it doesn't really matter.

But what's this? How can I write in one paragraph about how difficult it is to endure female pronouns, and then in the next about how I just shrug them off?

I guess this is part of the complexities of gendered interactions, and the necessity of context to make things better. And it comes down, again, to me being in a more stable place now, and more sure of myself, and not worrying about other folks misreading me or misremembering me, and coming up with the wrong pronoun. I know, though, that it's easier to let it slide when someone uses a wrong pronoung if they've previously made it clear to me that they're supportive, and that they're making an effort to remember. And it's easier to let it slide now when strangers think I'm a girl because I'm more confident in myself as a guy, and I'm not constantly relying on feedback from the rest of the world to confirm my masculinity. I'm confirming my own masculinity, these days. (sweet!) And I'm also confident that these misreadings of my gender are going to get fewer and further between, until soon they'll be mere memories of days past.

Which will, naturally, bring up a whole other set of concerns about passing and being stealth and disclosure for me to wrestle with in my head, and in my life, and on this blog. To Be Continued!

in the company of men

So, speaking of that new and improved mindset! It's variations on a theme that I've been espousing over the past few weeks- I'm happy. I'm feeling good. Solid. In a good place. I don't want to sound like a broken record, but at the same time, hey! It's good to feel good! And I really can't feel much compunction about spreading more positive energy into the world.

I used to talk about feeling feeling very unsteady- I was very unsure of myself, always longing for solid ground. Well, for a long time I didn't actually talk about it much to anyone but my therapist, since this was in my Era of Internalization when my "gender issues" (as I called them, being unready to own a trans identity) were my deep dark secret. But if you asked Annabelle, I'm sure she'd tell you all about how a major theme of our sessions together was me talking about how I was very nervous about the future, and how many choices and options I had before me. I didn't feel like I was standing on solid ground; it was self-perpetuating, too, in that I felt unsteady because I hadn't made any decisions, but I felt too unsteady to make any decisions. Then even after I did make decisions (which have turned out to be excellent!) I still felt unsteady and unsure last summer, and for a lot of the fall, too, as I started living out said decisions.

Now, I feel increasingly more solid. Though in some ways, I oughtn't- I'm in a typical unsteady, post-college point in my life. I don't know what I'm doing with my life, or where I'm going to be next year. But I've got a good job, and a good place to live, and a lot of good people in my life, and there is a slow realization (in every sense) that Eli is a good guy. And I feel like I'm getting a solid sense of self from which to address any and all future uncertainties.

One of the first signs I had of this solid ground came a couple of weekends ago. I went to a dance performance, called In the Company of Men, that was entirely choreographed and performed by male dancers. There was a lot of different embodiments of masculinity on stage, all of which were a delight to behold.

I'd been nervous, a bit, because historically, seeing guys perform has been a bit hard on me. It's tough sometimes to see guys be natural and comfortable in their bodies- it's made me jealous, and very aware of my own uneasy relationship with my body, and aware of my at times tenuous performance of manhood.

This time, though, there was none of that- just an appreciation for the stunning and energetic dance (of all sorts- tap to modern, wildly athletic to quietly charming) and the wide variety of guys up there in front of me. Made me aware of a new comfort in my self, separate from my perceptions of how my masculinity is playing out in the world. My own masculinity is coming together for me. Maybe I'm passing better, maybe I'm being seen more accurately by the rest of the world. But more importantly, I'm seeing my own masculinity, and being happy with it. This is important, as I have an unfortunate habit of seeing manhood as an amalgamation of

For example, there was a dancer there who was volunteering and ushering, and at one point he was pushing a mop across the stage to clean it up for the next piece. He was pretty curvy...well-built and muscular, but with, to put it bluntly, a very significant ass. I was appreciating it, and hearing other audience members around me murmur similar appreciation, and I realized that his ass was not unlike my own. And hell, if he can have an enormous ass and be extremely attractive and unquestionably masculine, then so can I.

It was good to have my anticipated worries fail to materialize and be replaced, instead, with further certainty that I'm happy as a guy, that I'm not lacking when in the company of other men, that I'm plenty manly, getting manlier, and happier about it all the time.

Part of my comfort these days is being happy with my body, as it is, and because it's mine, not because it looks more or less like (the problematic notion of) a "boy's body." I want to rid that phrase of the power it has. A boy's body. What does that mean, anyway? My body is a boy's body, because I'm a boy, and it's mine.

I'm letting go of notions built in my head of what it means to Be A Man (not too far- those notions, problematic though they are, still guide me. and that will take up an entry of its own one of these days) and am welcoming what it means to be myself in a manly embodiment. Am I putting too fine a point on it? I think it's a relevant distinction. I'm still looking forward to my body becoming more typically masculine, because it feels comfortable and secure. But it's a push-pull to a comfortable place, because even as I move toward my goals of masculinization, I'm also letting go of some of those goals, and reforming them to pull them closer to where I am now: validating my own brand of masculinity as it exists now. That's what I meant about becoming manlier all the time.

That's important, I think, as I transition- not to invalidate my style of masculinity as it comes naturally, without the aid of testosterone and surgery. Surgery and T and other hallmarks of transition aren't going to somehow turn me into a man. For all my talk about puberty, an becoming a man, I want to remember that my transition to being a guy doesn't hinge solely on physical transition.

Fortunately for me, I think that I'm learning how to transition along multiple levels as this physical transition continues. Even though (as you can read in my previous post) I haven't changed that much in my two months of taking T, I've gotten a lot more comfortable with my body as it is. It's starting to masculinize, true, but it's also masculine simply by virtue of being mine. The manliness of my physical self is also about how I move in my body, how I wield it and yield to it. I can grant myself manhood as surely as any hormone.

Though, admitedly, the hormones help.

---
I hope this post hasn't wandered too far hither and thither. I know I have a tendency to be verbose. I think I've gotten down some of my experience accurately. Namely, that I feel more secure and stable in my body now than I ever have before, and that is lending me a peace and happiness in the rest of my life. This stability is by no means perfect (nor do I expect it ever will be and, may seem obvious, but sometimes I have to say it outloud, not just because I'm trans) and I look forward to a lot of forthcoming work settling into myself. I've started to lay a good groundwork, though, and I can feel it in my happiness.

I leave you with some visual evidence. It's from a month or so ago, when my sister was visiting, and it's actually me sitting in the exact same place I am right now: on my fire escape. Of course, now it's night time, and I've got my laptop precariously on my lap and jackhammers down the street (really? jackhammers? at 10:30pm?) to keep me company, and that was pre-T, so in general I wasn't feeling quite as good as I am now. But in that picture I sure was happy- there's nothing that makes me feel solid and good like being with my sister.

so. happy Eli!

8 and 1/2 weeks

Last Thursday I got my fourth shot of T- the second at a full dose. This puts me at a solid two months of transition, and I'm starting to see some definite changes, that I'm willing to believe aren't just my hopeful imagination. I guess I'll give the laundry list of changes first, then do some more cohesive commentary.

--
Voice
For the first time over the past week or so, folks have been commenting (mostly on the phone) that my voice sounds different. My mom said that the main difference she could tell was that it sounded like I was always talking in my lowest pitch...that it never went back up higher. So it hasn't turned baritone yet, by all means, but I can feel my voice continuing to open up and embrace its tenor nature fully. I wasn't expecting instaneous, and this feels really good. I think it's helping me pass more consistently in the outside world, too...there's just a more masculine timbre to it these days.

Skin, Hair, etc
Holy crap, why did no one warn me about the sweat? I am so sweaty, all of the time. In situations where I wouldn't have been sweaty before, I'll get sweaty if I'm just walking or sitting around and it's at all hot. But in situations where I feel justified in sweating (excercise, exertion, extremely hot situations), oh my god, do I get sweaty. I feel like I've never sweat this much in my life! Are all boys this sweaty? Only teenage boys? Will this go away?
Only time will tell. Honestly, I'm starting to get used to it some...being sweaty all the time doesn't bother me as much as it did. And I don't think I smell bad, though my smell is definitely changing...becoming more masculine, though I don't know quite how to quantify that. So I'm not gross, just sweaty. But it's definitely one of the more noticeable recent developments.
My skin has stayed in pretty good shape, though. Not too much acne, just a bit around my jawline.
I'm noticing new hair growth, too. I can see the beginnings of new hair in plenty of places, though it's often very fine new hairs, or just slightly darker existing hairs. My days of shaving my face and neck once a week are over...I get a noticeable shadow on my upper lip and under my chin after just a few days. Not enough to be proud of, but definitely enough to warrant shaving frequently so as not to look like a scruffamuffin. I'm glad of all of my lovely shaving products that I got for my Manniversary, especially my Nivea sensitive shaving gel (Thanks, Alysse!)- it's worlds better than the old Barbasol from the can, though slightly less fun to play with.

Muscles/Shape
I'm noticing new muscle definition in my arms and those sexy hip muscles...what are they called? That make a V above your hips, and show up mostly on statues of young greek gods? It's certainly not from all of the time at the gym that I haven't been putting in, so I assume vitamin T is the culprit. Just think how buff I'm going to be once I actually put some work into this body of mine! I'm looking forward to being stronger, and able to more easily accomplish those things which require strength. I'm also just looking forward to filling out my shirts better. Nothing like some shoulder muscle to make a shirt hang right.
My face may or may not be gradually changing shape...I can't put my finger on it, but I think my jaw is firming up a little. When I look in the mirror, I like what I see more often. But that could be just a result of my new and improved mindset, also.

S-E-X
Again, an open invitation for parents, family members, teachers, employers, etc. to skip this section or, for propriety's sake, immediately banish it from your mind after reading it.

Sex drive continues to be at its usual fever pitch, so no real change in quantity. Qualitatively speaking, however, changes (for the better!) contine to develop. I think it's probably a combination of a variety of factors, some mental- I'm really happy, I'm more comfortable with my body, I'm more relaxed, I'm more sure of myself- and some physical- definite changes in my anatomy are most welcome, and are leading to new discoveries, and delightful re-invention of old favorites. I hesitate to go into much detail (a gentleman never tells) but my sex life has never been better, and I can't do much except grin about it.
--

So I think that about covers my bases. I'm getting my shot #5 early next week; this transition presses steadily onward. I'm hoping that this shot and the next one will deal a crushing and final defeat to the Communists- they'd be scheduled to return right around my next shot, so I'll keep you posted about whether the Red Army makes another appearance or not. They showed up rather suddenly last time, and I wasn't quite prepared for how upsetting it was. I'd known that it would probably take at least a month on a full dose before such things began shutting down, but I'd already started resettling myself into my body in a new way, and it felt rather like a betrayal to be so suddenly reminded of an uncomfortable and unwelcome biology.

That part about resettling into my body in a new way is important, though. I've been thinking about it a lot. But it's going to have to wait til the next post, because it's time to close the library now.

few and far

Haven't posted so frequently lately- Spring is in full swing, and so am I, and the days are flying by, almost faster and fuller than I can manage.

I've been on T for about 6 weeks now, and I'm getting my next shot on Wednesday of next week. I'll do a two month summary at that point, but for now, I'm still being deliberately patient. I can feel my voice slowly expanding in tone and depth, and it makes me very happy. This week for the first time, one of my friends commented that my voice sounded different when I left her a voicemail, and someone else mentioned that I sounded like I've got a cold. I don't know if I've been also consciously pitching my voice lower, and I can't really hear a strong difference, but I can feel more resonance in my chest, and it's a great feeling.

It's not that I think a deep voice is going to make me more appealing or attractive or compelling. It's just that it feels more natural to have it resonate in my chest like this...I didn't even realize where it was coming from before, but now I can really feel what I'm saying, and it helps me lend weight to my own words.

Speaking of my words, I'm hoping I'll be able to be more diligent again about updating this soon. I'll be working evenings twice a week, which are always quiet, and so I can have assured time at least those days to sit down and spill what I've got to say.

Hopefully then I'll be able to articulate and post about more of the thoughts in my head. I'm thinking lately about a lot of things: transmasculine as a broad adjective; what it means to stay queer as I transition; how I can trace my gayness and connect it to my trans identity and sort of squish them up together to make queer; my Gender Goals, not least of which is still my name; having children; the perennial topic of passing and coming out and what kind of man I want to be known as, and what kind of boyfriend I want to known as; dealing with the pockets of people in the world who still don't know that I'm a boy. You know, the usual.

That last one is rather more pressing at the moment, since I'm going to an event tonight hosted by my college for alumni in NYC. I'm looking forward to seeing old professors and old friends, but I'm also trying to remember which of them are clued in, and which of them are going to be clueless, and how I can make myself comfortable without stressing myself out too much. I'm wearing one of my favorite outfits- blue corduroy suit, bright blue shirt, argyle sweater vest, matching tie. It's easier to be tough when wearing the appropriate armor.

I honestly can't remember who's going to be there, and what they may or may not know. It's hard for me to remember, sometimes, because it seems so...so...absurd that anyone would think of me as a girl. Which isn't really fair to all of the people who knew me for years and didn't know any better. I never really performed 'girl' very well, but I called myself a lesbian and didn't disabuse people of the notion that I was a girl. And I'm glad I didn't, in some ways, because at least I was increasing visibility and space for masculine/boyish female people. It was legitimate that I looked as I did and went by she. It didn't make me happy, and so now I look the same and go by he, and that's legitimate, too. Now I'm not sure why I ever thought that I wouldn't be able to be a guy, but at least I was being useful while I was dragging my feet about coming out as trans.

So happy being a boy now. Well played, Eli.

we three Eli's

I went to a party and naming ritual on Saturday for my friend Elliot who's being ordained as a rabbi next weekend, and there were three of us there (including Elliot, who also goes by Eli regularly!) named Eli. Someone mentioned that they thought that Eli was becoming the new Jake for the transmasculine community...I don't know that I like the sound of that. I don't want my name to be trendy. Someone else pointed out the prevalence of girl names that start with E, and how many of us want to maintain a connection to our pasts, or continue to honor the family members that we may have been named for. I certainly made it my number one priority to keep my first intial when I was deciding on a new name.

It was a very moving experience on Saturday- Elliot talk to all of us about the process of choosing a new name, and what it means to have a name, and how naming is a powerful thing in Jewish traidition. There was a point in the ceremony when we all went around the circle and acknowledged Elliot and Elliot's new name...one by one we all said "I see you, Elliot." It was wonderful to be a part of such positive and respectful energy, and be a part of a ritual to honor a new but very close friend. I feel like Elliot and I have a lot in common, beyond just our shared name of Eli/Elliot(t) and our love of Canada and sweatervests. I feel a bit like Elliot is my genderqueer role model- someone who's creating the postbinary revolution in so many different ways and spaces that I really respect.

It was very personally moving for me to be there, too, given that I've been wrestling so thoroughly with my own name lately. Not Eli/Elliott- that I'm very comfortable and happy with. But I'm having a lot of trouble choosing a middle name.

I know that on some level, middle names are not the most important thing in the world- they're not used daily, or anything. But I think for me, a middle name is a very intimate thing...I keep it protected as just an initial most of the time, and it's something I share with people I'm close to, and it's a chance for me to honor my family and my history.

So I want to choose something that's a good fit for me, something that sounds like me....Elliott sounded right the moment that I heard it, and I think it fits me very well. Eli, too, I've grown in to, though I had some misgivings for a while about the low consonant to vowel ratio- that's why I got Elliott to lean back on!

Now I'm trying to decide on a middle name, so I can get the ball rolling with getting a legal name change and new ID, and it's taking me a long time. I've got a couple of contenders that have been kicking around for a while, and a few dark horse candidates that have recently emerged, and I'm not having the epiphanous moment I was hoping for.

For a long time, I've been considering Michael. It was my first thought when I was thinking of a new name- it's my father's name, and it also would give me the initials E.M. I like the Forster, literay-homo allusion, and at first I also liked that it was EM...for a while, the people closest to me called me Em as a more gender-neutral way of being close to me, and I came to associate someone calling me Em with that person being respectful of my gender. Also, I had the thought that if people for whatever reason couldn't get a handle on Eli, they could start with Em, and it would be like calling me by my initials, so it wouldn't be too bad.
Those very reasons that I like it, however, are also the reasons I'm not totally comfortable with it. I'm not sure that I want to name myself after my father. I'm not so close to him that it's an automatic thought. I don't even know if he likes his own name. Also, where EM was once a comfort because of its ties to my past, now it's starting to feel a little too close for comfort. I'm no longer so sure that I want a name that's tied to my time of when my gender hadn't been fully realized, and I'm certainly not very interested anymore in making things easier for other people. My name needs to make me comfortable, not everyone else.

There are very similar reasons for why I've been considering and wavering on Emlyn. It's the masculine version of my given name- in fact, it's what my dad wanted to name me until my mother pointed out that (as far as they knew at the time!) they were having a daughter, and giving her an unusual Welshman's name might not be the best plan. Now, I like it, because of those very reasons- it's definitely a name that sounds like me. Unusual, old fashioned, rather effeminate. And it's got close ties to my past, and Elliott E. is rather a distinguished name. But it also makes me flinch just a little when I hear it, sometimes, because it's so close to my old name, and reminds me very strongly of "being" a girl, or being seen as a girl, or what have you. Those are memories that I'm not particularly comfortable with yet, and, while it's possible that I'll get over this flinching business and so I don't want to discard a good name prematurely, I'm also not so comfortable with it right now.

So I've also been thinking about Charles, which is has none of the possibly feminizing connotations of the other two options. It was the name of a couple of grandfathers, one on either side, so that's nice, and it's one of the names my mom was considering when the doctors told her that the first ultrasoune indicated that she was probably having two boys. (Peter and Charles, Pete and Charlie. Katherine and Emmalyn, Kate and Emma. Clearly, I was going to be Charlie.) Also, my current middle initial is C, so there'd be some nice continuity there in continuing to be E.C. On the other hand, I don't have any particularly close ties to the name Charles. It doesn't really feel like me.

Those three have been the big contenders of late, but there have also been a couple of dark horse candidates to emerge recently. Namely, Theodore, just because I like it, and I like Teddy, and Theodore Roosevelt was my favorite president, after all. Carry a big stick! But I have a bit of a lisp, so a th name might not be the best. Also, there's no familial/historical connection.

And then just very recently, I've been thinking about John. There's a strong family history of Johns (two of 'em with the same last name, even! one from each side!), and it's a strong, masculine name with a good solid history behind it, and don't I seem like I'd be Eli Jack, when I'm not Elliott John? It's a rather pedestrian name, true, but it's firmly entwined in my family lore, and that's important to me.

So, that's my Big Gender Thought at the moment. Renaming oneself is a powerful, special chance, and I don't want to muck it up. Not too many folks get a chance to name themselves...though, as Ro pointed out, Catholics do it all the time...and I want to take full advantage of my opportunity. Also, I don't intend to change my name again, so this one's going to be it for the long haul. Think wisely, young Eli!

In the meantime, I leave you with a portrait of the three Eli's from the other night. A gaggle of Eli's, a bunch of Eli's, a pod, a herd, a flock of Eli's? In any case, ain't we a handsome trio?

t-shirt weather

It's supposed to be over 80 degrees today here in NYC. The advent of May has clearly kickstarted summer, and given the mildness of our winter, I see no reason to believe that we're going to be spared any heat at all this summer. I predict (though I hope I'm wrong) that it'll be hotter than blazes here for the next few months.

Which, naturally, puts me in something of a quandry, because summertime weather is not meant for guys with breasts. At least, guys with breasts who don't want the rest of the world to know they've got 'em. I mean, binding is a pretty uncomfortable affair in general- I don't bind very fiercely because I can't stand the discomfort. There are ways to make one's chest look pretty darn flat, but it's pretty hard on one's rib cage/skin/chest tissue, and I don't really want to go there. So I have my own system, and it basically involves two extremely high lycra content sports bras and a lot of layers- usually, if I have my way, I've got a t-shirt, an actual shirt, a tie, and a sweater between me and the outside world. However, come summertime, this is not the best system. That is clearly a fall/winter outfit, and while it can get sweaty and the elastic can get pretty uncomfortable at any point, in the summer, it's darn near suffocating.

Which is why I'm looking forward to August 9th which such intensity.

Anyway, I figure I have a couple of options. I could get a more hardcore binder, which would hurt, but would make me more comfortable wearing fewer layers because my chest would be flatter. Or I could keep wearing my sweaters and just sweat my way through the summer (at least my work is air conditioned), but as I may have mentioned, I don't like being extraneously sweaty. Or I could adopt the approach that I'm test-driving today: go about my ordinary binding business, and just wear a t-shirt and a polo shirt and try not to look down.

I've been hunching my shoulders and tugging on the front of my shirt more than usual this morning, but I'm also banking on the fact that people know me as a guy, and aren't going to spend a lot of time examining my chest. How often do you really look at the people you see everyday?

Also, frankly, this is something of a fuck you to the world.

I don't want these breasts, I didn't ask for them, and I'm going to be getting rid of them shortly (sounds so menacing when I phrase it that way...poor breasts), but while they're here, I'll be darned if I'm going to let them make my life difficult.

And okay, those are big words from a short guy, and I know that I can't always back them up. I do let my body make me miserable sometimes, I can't help it. I don't look down at myself when I'm making out with someone, and I try to avoid mirrors when I'm shirtless, and I still sometimes get hit (it's a very visceral sensation, really) with the crap avalanche of Help, I'm trapped in a body I don't identify with! (Now THAT would make a good latest edition in that YA series, Help, I'm trapped in... about the boy with the body-swapping adventures)

I've always really admired folks who can put their bodies out there or not even notice their bodies, and still express and embody their gender identities with ease. I can't do that; I always feel like my body is constantly undermining me. That's why I'm taking these steps to change it- it's not a good feeling to have the sense that your body is working against you. (Betrayal is simultaneously too harsh and too cliche to use here. Insubordination, perhaps?)

but today! today I decided that being sweaty and uncomfortable may just be worse than being gender dysphoric and uncomfortable. and it's probably good for me to try to ease up and let go of the anxiety around my chest. And hell, it's my last summer with breasts, so I'm just going to carry on and deal with them. It builds character.

It's a good sign, too, I think. Six months ago, a year ago, I was far too nervous about whether my masculinity would hold up in public to think about going out in public without a lot of layers and binding. Now, the fact that I can do this (even though I need to write a long blog entry about it to make myself feel better) shows me that I'm dealing with my discomfort.

I'm starting to separate my discomfort with my body from my discomfort with my self. Does that make sense?

My therapist said something similar to me before I went home for Christmas, and I was nervous about my first Christmas with my family as Eli. She told me not to worry if they were upset, or distant, or being difficult (none of which happened, fortunately!)...not to let it seep into my feelings about myself. That it would be hard for me to ask them for what I needed (pronouns, etc) because it's hard for me to ask for help, that's part of my personality. And I should worry (as I was starting to do) that being reluctant to correct my family, or anyone, about my gender would mean that I wasn't trans enough, or what not. Just because it's hard for me to try to enforce my gender shouldn't make me doubt the legitimacy or validity of my gender. It just means I'm not a very good enforcer.

Likewise now, I'm taking that lesson to heart and trying not to let my discomfort with my body and how it's read by others affect my ability to be in the world.

Hm, I don't think I'm being very articulate, I don't know that I'm describing this process very well- the fact that my unhappiness with my body- with parts of my sex and gender (note to self: interesting thought, explore this later)- feels like it's embedded in me deep, and affects a lot of my life and my actions. I'm trying to change that, and I can feel it happening, and I'm trying to encourage it. I can feel myself slowly compartmentalizing my unhappiness with my physical self and teasing it out of me. I want to gather up all of my different bodily discomforts from all the corners of my mind and sweep them out the door this summer, as the T starts shaping me and my surgery draws nearer. I refuse to let the unfortunate (or at least, less than ideal) disagreement between my embodiment and my identity condemn me to perpetual discomfort. Hell, I refuse to let it condemn me to a sweatier summer than absolutely necessary.

looking forward

Had a funny moment today when a patron asked me if I was getting to take any vacation at all this summer. I replied that I'd be out for a few weeks in August, having surgery, and she gave me a very sympathetic look and said "That's no fun!"

I had to restrain myself mightily to keep from exclaiming, "No, actually, it's going to be fantastic!"

That's not normally the attitude one has towards surgery, I suppose. It gave me a funny reality check to remember that this exciting event that I'm looking forward to with such immense anticipation is an undertaking that many folks regard with feelings more akin to dread. Surgery, including general anesthesia, and the subsequent recovery period is generally no joke. It's amusing to me to realize that I'm going to feel like crap for a significant period, even as I'm happy and thrilled and relieved.

I'll need to be careful not to overextend myself in my excitement in August and early September...really, for the rest of the fall. Luckily, I've got the feeling that I'll have good people around me to keep any eye on me, and keep me in line.

Had a moment of wondering, too, how I was going to explain my surgery to folks who don't know me very well- the Social Work students, basically. Then I realized that I don't have to. Surgery explanations and medical histories are very private things in this society, and it's perfectly acceptable, and indeed, preferable, in some instances, to keep them on a need-to-know level.