The day before my appointment to the gender identity clinic, my nerves started to get the better of me. There was really nothing to be nervous about, but I still got a herd of butterflies in my tummy. My main source of nervousness was the fear of not being taken seriously and being refused medical transition. It’s highly unlikely, especially since I’ve been living as a man full time for more than a year now. But still…. My head got stuck with that what if…Well, IF they would refuse me medical transition I would just have to seek it privately and pay for it out of pocket. The only thing that would be a real problem for me is my legal gender marker and not being able to go on T. But on the other hand a lot of guys survive without that. So, again, I have little to be nervous about. Still I felt the need to visit the hairdresser to cut off the excess hair, wear a buttoned shirt, my nice shoes, clean shave in the morning and wearing a little perfume. With my packer in place and in good time for the two hour train ride to the clinic my head was spinning, I felt sick and needed to pee. Again.
On the train I passed time by playing games on my tablet and helping other travelers with their luggage. As the most gentleman-looking in the coach elderly women turned to me for help to put their bag on the over head rack. I wonder if I passed in their eyes, if I just passed initially until I started to interact with them or if I just looked like a convenient person to ask for help. In any case it made me feel like I was passing, it made me feel strong and helpful, gave me a boost of confidence and eased my nerves a little bit.
The meeting with the therapist was actually ok. It’s just the first meeting, so basically he said “tell me your life story and I’ll decide if you have come to the right place”. I have. After all my years in therapy with different therapists I’m quite used to telling my story as they all want to hear it in our first meeting, so it was like reciting a well rehearsed monologue. Also, after all time in therapy I’m fairly confident in my answers. I know my weaknesses and my strengths so telling my life story is more like a matter of fact and not something that is up for discussion. I feel secure having gone through it all and when ever I talk about it I feel happy about actually having put a lot of it behind me. It doesn’t affect me much anymore.
After the meeting I was excited, and very tired after all the tension I had had all day. I was so happy I even took a selfie at the station and posted it on FB, stating I had had my first appointment. For some reason it seems like my friends have more excitement and are happier than me about this journey. When I talked to one of them about it he said that of cause he was exited about it for me, after all it’s one of the most radical things one can do in life. Like a super extreme makeover. Oddly I haven’t thought about it like that. For me it’s just necessary and a hurdle to get pass so I can continue with my life again. I guess I have a lot of buried feelings about it – hiding, concealing and denying it for so long.
Now I just have to wait for them to receive all my old journals, go through them and then I’ll get a new appointment. After a few meetings with them I’ll start my Real Life Experience, and it seems like I’ll be able to receive HRT and surgeries during that time! Yay!