“Should I have SRS (now)” is really the new “should I transition?”. I feel similarly over it – obsess over it, asking everyone, essentially looking for evidence and permission that this thing which somewhere deep down in my dissociate self I want, is something that I “get” to do, something that I won’t regret. It’s really exactly as things were two years ago, in the spring of 2017. I knew on some level what I wanted, and I was very worried that I wanted it for some other reason than I believed I did, and I was feeling reluctant to commit before I was certain enough that I would be OK if I did.It’s been two years of transition then. Woah. It really has. It feels like it should be less? Some of these posts are almost that old. I should perhaps go back and re-read myself, this transition account. I intended for it to become one, but it was also a venting space. It has become one. Maybe at some point I’ll bundle and edit all this. Maybe some of it is useful to someone.
So, going back to the analogy. I felt a longing to become sure I really was one of those who would be happier if she transitioned, but I needed external assurances – from reading accounts of others, from trying to evidence within my autobiography, from experiments. Eventually I got past all that by having enough experimental results and enough not-giving-a-fuck that I decided I get to decide. And moreover, that I got to decide because my will mattered. Which it does because I am a person like everyone else. Which I am because I am a woman. So I am transgender.
What I also did then was to process my fears. I was afraid of so much along the path that lay ahead of me. I was afraid of being seen as a freak, of being discriminated against, pitied, shunned, of being looked down on. In hindsight much of that was fear of coming out. It was also the fear of finally losing the choice of being able to pass as cishet or not.
I processed even before that point by stretching boundaries, going more and more androgynous. This was what I escalated back then. I got my first bralette almost a year before HRT and wore it thereafter when I went through airport checks. I started switching restrooms, presenting myself as trans, all these things before I was formally sure. I told my parents about my questioning. I know why I did this, I was trying to experience the awkwardness and fear and pain, socially speaking, before I passed the point of no return. I wanted to know if I could handle it, how bad it would feel, and perhaps also to dull the pain before it became compulsory. I LARPed being further along in my transition so that I would build resilience but perhaps above all to check, would I experience regret?
This afternoon I realized I’m doing the same now with SRS.
My increasing genital dysphoria and issues with sex may well to a large part be unavoidable and there, but I also focus on them and nurture them, let myself feel them, experience them. I open myself to the stone butch life, where I let myself feel the dysphoria of parsing my bare genitals wrong during sex, where I let myself get used to not wanting or be able to climax with a partner (or alone – I can but why the hassle? pfah). I’m actively riding the wave of these emotions, calling increasing attention to them.
In so doing I am testing myself for what my sex would be like if I had an unfavorable SRS outcome. Part of this which I am doing is this kind of emotional preparation, I’ve been asking myself the question: “Could you be OK with life if you never came again, if all your sex was breastplay and painplay and cuddles and topping?” I’m mildly melancholically sad about it, is the answer. I’ve looked to that melancholia as a putative reason why I should have SRS, and felt it’s not a big thing.
Where I should look, rather, is why I’m trying to get used to that sadness, why I’m preparing for the worst. Clearly it’s because some part of me deeply wants to be able to conclude she should have SRS. And it’s similar to the part of me that tested out being queer and at social awkwardness and risk as a non-passing trans person even before she had to, because she wanted to be able to conclude she should socially and hormonally transition.
I think one very likely conclusion to draw from this, though it needs more testing, is that to a large extent I want SRS for the same reason I wanted to transition in general. Underlying it all is a conceptual and existential dysphoria. I must be as much like other women as I can for the world to be OK. I felt that enough to take the steps I took so far, of which I would say that coming out and social transition was far costlier than anything medical – the latter I would say have all been pleasure and some interesting pain (when did I become so OK with pain? Ah, when I’d trained it enough…). So the question now is, is that same feeling strong enough to make we want the cost that is the risk of loss of orgasmic capacity (because ultimately that’s really the only realistic fear I have that I care about)?
I think it is, but I’ll take some more time to process all of it. I don’t have to decide just yet. In the next months. Perhaps by April I will.
(And if I just go by intuition? I want to be on the operating table already, so badly. Or rather, I want to know I am on track there. But I should not only trust intuition. Only more than I did in the past.)