So, to those who read this (heh) and do not already know, my first gender therapist pick turned out a dead end; she claimed that all “true transsexuals” she met knew from childhood, and as an actual card-carrying Freudian instead tried for some long shot of how I might be trying to transition to spite my mother. I did not end up scheduling any more sessions with her after that. Instead found another, and now await the train taking me away from there to a circle of cherished people for the weekend. The new therapist might be better. I can’t know this until I’ve gotten what I need, which is a diagnosis. The first one also seemed, while never good, then not like entirely wasted time during the first sessions. But this did feel better.
My new therapist is younger and a behavioral therapist. She said this means she believes all harmful behaviors can be unlearned, which could be a warning bell, but she listened as I outlined the logistics and context of why at this point I seek evaluation for formal diagnosis rather than primarily therapy, and she asked me also to look up as homework what the procedures of my home country are. For the sake of my somewhat sanity, I will take this as a good sign. Unlike the other, she also understood largely my English, did not ask me to pause because she needed to translate into German for her detailed notes, and seemed to actually sort of understand what I was saying, though giving few signs of any conclusions.
I ended up describing overall my slow transition from sad, nerdy AMAB child and teen, via agender political queer student, to now finally trying out some sort of womanhood. Outlining also the specifics of my situation and time frame (with regards to migration, being between states, timeframe, etc.) I did mention how I’ve had crippling anxieties worrying over whether or not some biological underlying essence of sex may keep me from womanhood, and at least was not interrupted, so that I got to outline it in some more detail, as well as how anxieties are reduced with each transition step I take. Further describing dissociation, my distance from my emotions, and ending up crying some during the session, which has not really happened that way before. I understand it as my tears of relief, though still a little concerned she may somehow conclude that I ought to treat the dissociative aspects in some other way than transitioning.
Well, in that case at least I learn more things from the procedure. I’m going to consider this a good step for now, a hopeful step of sorts in the pursuit of passing through gates. The journey continues, and if there is one thing the last years have taught me, it is to persevere until I reach where I need to.
lost in transition 