cracks

I did get quite messed up by interacting with a troll this morning, worries on validity spiraling and causing then those old symptoms of locking up, not enjoying, not being present, feeling cold and pain. Ending up sort of sad and worried over the ways in which I am _not_ like other women, in terms of biology and in terms of life experiences. Those are not all the ways, and as long as I and others go more by other properties in classifying me, then still all fine. But I do feel it hanging over me still, like a chocked sadness behind the eyes, being near to tears. I really am more sensitive. Part is expectations having changed, and part is possibly HRT increasing openness – thus also dysphoria. I wrote about this possibility before several times. I guess the point though is, and this is really just a coda to the last post reiterating it in context, that my impulse in return becomes to try my bet to become like other women in terms of biology and experiences both, while still remaining me. So the increasing intensity of dysphoria being triggered all in all drives me to fight against it by trying to become such that I feel less invalid.

Meh.

gifting

Maybe this is what I feel. If I am perfectly diligent and get all the rest done. If I:

– Make my conduct empathetic and kind and non-angry, containing and open and caring, as I feel I want to be able to see myself.

– Sculpt my body further with food and exercise and whatever, alongside the hormones, so I can be understood as female by an observer having only my shape to go by.

– Learn to stop slouching and maintain a straight posture (because something about me has to be straight at least, amirite?) again impacting how I feel.

– Finish up laser fully and wholly, and laser also the parts that could cause hair issue during Thai-style SRS (e.g. perineum).

– Master voice so I can blend voice style under pressure too.

If I do all those things, so there would not be too much hanging over me otherwise, then I could finally reward myself with bottom surgery, excusing the recovery time and the costs by that being something I have paid for through effort. This all is complex and messed up and I am emotional and currently deeply longing to just have a body that neither myself nor others would question as being female.

I suppose this is a path and an interesting one at that. If I resolve this, and also set money aside, then there can come a point when the matter is simple, when I will feel confident that it is OK for me to go ahead and have surgery. This thought is becoming resident in the ecosystem of my mind. We shall see what I make of it.

Meh day. Trolls. Bothersome. Needing to work, and will. And will meet people, and deal with things. Absolutely needing to get out of bed, first.

lilac dreams

Just remembered I actually had a tangentially trans-related and interestingly silly dream… I’ve been noticing the trees blossom (lilac, cherry, apple) and felt the scents and noted the colours against the verdant life of green, and in my dream, I was riding a car with my parents and some other person, maybe a partner, and we were driving through small side streets with trees and hedges like this and I was thinking of how the flowers resembled the white-pink-blue of the trans flag. My mother in the dream remarked how it was a thing for me that I liked those colours and I felt accepted and a little surprised and very happy about that, even downplaying my reaction.

Quite fascinating, really…

kat

Did go out, though this was essentially a 2h trip to the Hip Club, concluding line was too long for the interaction between temperature and clothing, and heading home. Five people tried to sell me drugs. More relevant, along the way I was catcalled and propositioned for the first time in meatspace, as well as trailed by some creepy scammer guy. It was validating for me and it is messed up that it was. The evening well worth it from more experience in navigating public spaces when occasionally blending as a woman.

Relevant here: I never felt safe with strange men (expecting them to bash me for being GNC), but it is different now because some of them actually might see me as a target. It feels less safe to walk alone, I watch out more and I recognize that if going home too drunk and alone, something really might happen. I won’t refrain from enjoying my Babylon, and as a feminist I knew on an intellectual level it was like this. Getting now a first sip of it on an emotional level. All in all, while not a good thing per se, the experience is meaningful and I cherish the path that took me there.

vestment

After a day of feeling quite good, went clothes shoppping. The situation being as follows – there will still be some time before I can again do laundry, and I am rapidly running out of things I want to wear. So for simplicity, went to large cheap clothing chain store and tried on 16 different dresses. None fit as I would want, and what I see now is that in my current stage, very very few designs work. They must flare (otherwise there are unsightly bulges from belly and bottom parts both), but flaring things that fit on lower body do not fit on top, they will be too small and bra will show on sides. Resolving to not buy even cheap stuff unless it fits perfectly, because otherwise in fitting room mirrors I look like a crossdressing clown. Even so, not all angles are flattering, my jaw and cheeks and throat look weird, and the signs of facial hair are there. Unless hair is just right, I look like some crossdressing slob.

That said, not only do I know this is dysphoria talking, I also see things that would look so great and fit so great and look so me if only they were cut a little differently, so it’s worth continuing to look. And I know I share that experience with 75+% of cis women too.

Speaking of my cisters, today had for first time in a while some number of cis women looking oddly at me, one snorting at me. Usually I get negative reactions only from men. Part of me worried big city people spot trans women easier, so that this would recur, but perhaps they just did not like my sunglasses. One stores clerk sold me nail polish, then gave me a free sample of men’s perfume. That messed me up a little. Perhaps it was just random. Or she signalled her lack of acceptance, or she simply instinctively parsed me as male. Those options in increasing order of sad severity. All in all, these various experiences escalated with me feeling like I come across masculine, which yields increasing dysphoria as my expectations change. I know what to do – persevere, let pass, all this shall pass.

There are things I can do with regards to that term – I don’t like the term of (even just cis-)passing, so I’ll say blending – I know from mirrors that I slouch, proper posture has real and true impact. As does smiling, and as does also remembering to maintain voice. I should tie these things too to the Triune Goddess, but not sure fully on how to work into the scheme, ideas welcome – which of the aspects of the Goddess are most kin to what habitualization of posture, voice and smile?

All in all, once clothes shopping – failed, at that – was done, I was an hour after when to take the next estradiol dose. I could feel that, and I could feel relaxation after taking it, washing the blue pill down with hugo, but really that is much too fast for anything but placebo to act. It could well be both placebo and true mood impact though. Need to instigate a double blinded study with that one trans collaborator who is also crazy, driven and brave enough to go for it, I will tell her of this aspect to the intervention possibilities too. I do thing my mood is impacted, anxieties return when estradiol drops. Should try patches again to see if it doesn’t, though of course then also any placebo or nocebo would go away. I did note about 5 min after the dose now that my worries actually deepened, I felt closer to sadness and also closer to responding to cuteness (saw little doggo), this being something I noticed post hoc so less likely perhaps to be placebo. Will see where the evening takes me.

It seems it takes me to hair washing, emergency nail polish, makeup and trying to see if (unlikely) I get into a hip club. And some slides editing. Check.

attaché

Spending two days in an emotionally charged and impactful part of my professional environment, the very LARP-like scientific coordination meeting for a major project I am part of. I was very nervous or perhaps vigilant beforehand, feeling I absolutely had to have solved all my action points and to have provided solutions of sufficient impact where everyone feels involved. I felt this less than before because I now have my new job position taken up, so I am more secure and less dependent, but I am still dependent, and so felt it more than before at the same time as I now meet these collaborators in most cases for the first time since transitioning, and definitely for the first time since going somewhat full femme in my presentation. So situational and personal minority stress making me concerned and fearful, expecting acceptance if fully useful and efficient, and fearing – hopefully baselessly – that I would be questioned, misgendered or pitied if not. “He” went insane, tried to change sex, and now look how much worse “his” science has gotten.

For whatever reason this did not manifest. People have been great, wonderful, accepting. I think I told them all over email that I transition, but for whatever reason everyone seems to know, as I want them to, and I have not been deadnamed. Nor misgendered, excepting I saw an email sent between other parties using my new name but old pronouns. From someone who uses the right pronouns to my face, so not sure what to make of it. This does not improve my view of him. There were some awkwardnesses, but mostly very much a non-issue – people ask me about other things in my life, congratulates me on things etc. but my gender or my transition simply is entirely a non-issue in the public communication. Which is how it should be. I do feel wherever there is gendering (not so much) e.g. bonding between people in similar strata of age, sex, seniority, that I am included as I seek. Some acquaintances are deepening towards potential homosocial friendships, other established friendships already are close and open in ways where I feel no gender barriers in the way whatsoever as well as fully accepted. All good, and if I will come to meet some of these people less often in the future following end of the project, I will miss them. Subsequently, I must maintain collaborations not only for professional reasons but also for personal ones.

What felt really good was how free I felt to present while remaining me. I did my thing (semi-arrogantly discussing figures, algorithms, results, interpretation; commenting on things, suggesting things) feeling much more relaxed than usually. Ended up with voice perhaps melodious and in middle range but not so high as I wanted, hard to remember while also being heard. That bothered me some (as in, I feel dysphoric when I feel my voice is parsed as masculine). I did all this with open-footed high-heel sandals showing off painted nails and legs, in skimpy summer dresses (not even black ones!) and moderate makeup, as well as my signature occult symbol amulet. That last felt important, I am still myself, still S as the driven scientist and seeker for immortality, still someone who talks too much and comments too much and pushes some boundaries, but also someone who lets herself to be as fully femme in presentation as she feels like. I did this and since it worked well professionally, since I had some results and got good responses, I feel this makes me believe that by and large I am accepted, with some fully, with others at least on the surface.

So that was all good.

Things continuing with many many many things at once, personal things and work things and formal things (like registration and housing and company connections that are not work-related), and I feel I can only resolve a few matters each day. There is a list and I do the most urgent things first. This largely feels good, it feels OK. Most of the time I am less stressed, less sad and fearful than before, or it feels differently. I can’t quite say. This appears to be less the case just before I take each next estrogen dose, so may be linked to the dips as blood levels fluctuate. When I really do get stressed from outside sources it is more obtrusive, less easy to not feel. Still possible to ignore and not act on, but not possible to not be somehow affected by. Sometimes vexing but worth it.

swing

I think this morning must be considered the first undeniable instance of mood effects of my hormone treatment. It’s probably happened before but I could not conclude it until now. It’s gray-ish outside, I am underslept, I am stressed and have some headache. But the response is disproportional to my past experiences. I find myself growling and being extremely angry at every little practical detail that does not exactly match my wishes, and most importantly, I cannot shut this off even though doing so would be practical. Interesting I suppose.

And fucking irritating as all hell.

And worth it if it really is part of aligning me with the womanhood I crave, even indirectly.

deva eva

There is a lot happening. My moving has happened physically, alongside all the rest that is ongoing. It was possible through cherished friends who went above and beyond. We were ultimately successful and it will be awesome and it is celebrated and will be celebrated further.

It also was not a painless process. Through shortcomings of mine my friends had to carry emotional and physical loads beyond what they should have had to, and were hurt. We spoke of this later, and I took some lessons and recommendations and insights away. I want to anchor these now, so I will summarize them in a form I hope shall be maximally useful to me in doing better. Ultimately, I identify three root shortcomings in the form of toxic masculinity components I therefore have yet to unlearn, and doing so therefore will be a priority for me which I will integrate into my ritual structures.

First, one thing I have a hard time seeing myself, but which really in hindsight has been said to me many times before, I am bad at trusting. Not in the good will of others but in the ability of others to organize and carry through and strategize. This is essentially a difficulty delegating. It is a skill I need, and it feels like making leaps of faith that other persons can be relied on not only to act and execute but to organize. This has nothing to do with challenges or opportunities in determining where others are trustworthy or not. Rather this should be about explicitly recognizing good situations to rely on others, ask for their independent strategizing and action, accepting their response, and communicating clearly around its planning and progression. Habitualizing this then becomes one of my tasks. To do so, I will try to connect this to the Maiden facet. As the Maiden I can be open and trusting as she is with her comrades, and thinking of it so may help me remember. Slighly more complicated when I delegate to subordinates, but still probably a workable starting point.

Second, containing. There is a balancing act as I try not to avoid feeling even negative things, where if I do not sensibly contain my own emotions I can and will (and did) push emotional labour into others as they need to contain me. I know this is an issue, and it as mattered long, but I was still failing in remembering to do it responsibly even when in a stressed state myself, and even more as at the same time, I work to try to let myself feel and be weak. It is not acceptable that others have to contain my emotions outside of a situation of explicit consent. So I need a way to both feel even negative emotions and still be mindful outwards, a way to not dissociate but also not to lose touch. This again is the need to habitualize but also to remember the need. My recent experiences can be a wakeup call, and here I will try to connect it to the Mother facet. As the Mother, I have dependents, even if they are my peers or even superiors. I am responsible for shielding them from my pain and fear unless they agree to carry it, and I must shoulder that responsibility. I can still let myself feeling that pain within, and express it elsewhere and elsewhen. Having to carry the pain until it can be released, while feeling it fully, is a Motherly thing to do and I can grow in both containing and feeling by remembering that.

Third and hardest, organizing and prioritizing. Looking back it is clear I have slipped. I keep taking on more and more interesting opportunities and planning for things, but refusing – on my ego trip – to acknowledge the limitations of time and spoons. Then there is too little time and mistakes are made, contingency plans not established, paths not optimized. This is seen on the small time scale (case in point, I have been late for several things because my morning routine is longer but I do not time budget more) and the large time scale (planning everything for a single month with work and moving logistics). Sad as it is for my ideals, I must acknowledge I cannot do all things at once all the time. I must allot time to efforts and projects. I must set time aside for things, and it must be enough time, assigning margins large enough that I can plan and communicate those plans and make backup plans and contingencies. I must begin to set aside time even for crucial things, not rely on being able to do them as they appear. I must begin to formally delay taking on some things, and use organizational tools and scheduling to do so. I must formally set aside time to settle and optimize and reality check even less exciting but important things. I cannot wing it all the time. This is accepting limitations and measuring resources. This is judgment and self-boundary. This is work of the Crone facet. As the Crone I know I am not infinitely powerful, and that I cannot make myself fully free in the small and the large both. I must choose limitations to avoid others and to avoid harm. I must organize. I must prioritize. I must sacrifice. This is painful but necessary as all the lessons of the Crone.

I will endeavour to remember and be these things.

calms and their counterparts

I’ve been describing to people a lot how HRT changed my stress response from fight-or-flight to acceptance, but thinking now perhaps that, while partly true, is not the most accurate description. What I’ve come to feel is largely calm and anchored, but there is a change felt also in non-stressed circumstances (so maybe not just something reactive), and now that stress levels are really high during these weeks when I move and switch jobs, I recognize some of how that stress feels from before, there is still a physical urgency in the body after some point.

So perhaps what is there is instead: there is a change in the form of stress response I have, but there is also a base reduction of some form of ambient stress that used to be there (dysphoria?) along some mechanism and path. And then there may be that I thus am generally less stressed, and reacting somewhat differently to it, but I also cannot ignore specific and situational (non-ambient) stress on an emotional level as I once could. That is, I can still choose not to act on stress but I cannot really choose not to feel fear or worry. This is something I need to explore further.