The Transmasc Hoard

Jay Snider is a FTM transgender man. This is an archive of his online diary chronicling his transition between 1999 - 2002, found on the Wayback Machine. Throughout his writing, he shares about his life as a transman, struggling with depression, starting hormone replacement therapy, top surgery, attending FTM events, and queer issues. He also mentions starring in a documentary about his transition called "Sir: Just A Normal Guy", directed by Melanie La Rosa.

May 24, 1999

What a weekend! Saturday was the Northwest Trangender and Intersexed Film Festival held in Olympia, Washington -- my first-ever FtM event. It was bright and sunny and Kimber and I started off the day going for bagels and a cool new haircut (bagels for us both, haircut just for me).

The film fest was terrific, but even better was the opportunity to be around people "like me." I met up with some guys from the MtMInfo e-mail list, and we were able to sit and talk for a while. One of the highlights of the day was when I told David Schreier, who runs the support group at the Ingersoll Center in Seattle, that I wasn't on T yet. The look of suprise on his face was unmistakeable. He and Sean from Seattle both obviously thought that I was on T, which was really validating for me, if that makes any sense. I don't know if it was my build, my meager facial hair, my voice, or something else. Anyway, it was very cool.

We did take some pictures and as soon as they're developed they'll be scanned and here for your viewing.

Also this weekend I got Spencer Bergsted's book in the mail. Basically, it addresses the legal issues faced by an FtM, everything from legal name and gender changes on official documents to tips on handling wills, divorce/marriage, and more. It even has sample forms and letters that you can use and a state by state listing of the process for legal name/gender change on your DL and birth certificate. A very handy book indeed. One of the things I found interesting was that Spencer id's as a het queer transman. I've been thinking about that a lot, about not wanting to give up a queer identity but also feeling like a straight guy. I like the way Spencer put it. I'm a het queer. Does that mean I get to keep my rainbow sticker on my truck?

May 28, 1999

Sometimes it is more apparent than others that I live in this in-between world. At work I'm still the female employee who's been here for two years. I just haven't worked up the nerve to begin my transition at work yet. I'm still the freak of the place anyway, because to them I'm this manly looking dyke that they don't understand. I've decided that soon that is going to have to change, probably in a month or so when I start T.

With my new haircut, I look more masculine, which of course I love. But at work, it just makes me weirder. I've been aware of the possibility of a problem with restroom usage here, because I still use the women's room (I feel like I can't start using the men's room until I make my status known) and there are enough new employees who don't know me that it could become an issue ("man in the girls room, man in the girls room!"). Today, as I walked out of the bathroom, a guy who's worked here the whole time I've been here passed by. He looked at me very strangely, and as I looked back at him, I saw that he had stopped in the middle of the hall and was looking back at me as if deciding what to do about this weird event he had witnessed.

The reason this freaks me out is that I feel like I'm in the place of "Now what do I do?" Without disclosing my transition status, using the men's room would be too weird since everybody at work knows me as female. But using the women's room is too weird, too, and honestly sometimes it's kind of scary anticipating the reactions I might get. Should I just try not to go to the bathroom all day?

June 4, 1999

I've had an absolutely hellish week, which began with falling off a porch and went downhill from there. I seem to have gone off my anti-depressants, not on purpose really (though maybe sub-consiously I was trying to see if I could do without them. I discovered that I indeed NEED them and now I'm worried about how T, once I start, will effect my depression.

Yesterday, at my lowest, I just felt so worthless and sad and frustrated. All I could think was how totally unfair it is that I was a victim of sexual abuse and emotional abuse by my parents, that I got the wrong body at birth, that I've had to, and will continue to have to, deal with a lot of crap that I really don't want to have to deal with. I just want to be the normal guy that I am inside. Instead, I feel like I'm doomed to be this fucked up, depressed, aimless freak. Last night, it just didn't seem worth and I actually considered just not doing it anymore. It meaning living. According to people who love me, who I love, I'm not a fucked up, depressed aimless freak. But that doesn't mean I don't feel like one.

I'm feeling better today, though these feelings are still with me. I guess maybe I have to learn how to allow myself these feelings but not allow the feeling to take over how I live my life.

June 9, 1999

It's been an up and down kind of time for me, one minute feeling good, the next miserably depressed. I'm just waiting now for the Zoloft to kick in and get me out of this depression.

Last weekend was interesting. Went to Seattle and attended my first support group. I've never been to any kind of thing like that before. I think I got more out of just going than I did out of the discussion. It was fascinating to hear the MtF's talking about their experiences.

The next day I got a new tattoo, a sort of tribal looking compass. I was feeling so directionless, I thought it would help. Plus, just having some sensation that I was in control of was powerful. Having a say over your own pain is a strong feeling. Too bad it can't last longer.

Things aren't so bad as they seem, I know, and I have the feeling an upswing is coming my way. Optimism isn't my strong point, but I'm trying.

June 16, 1999

My life is almost a caricature of a life. Besides depression, dealing with gender stuff, having a family that won't have anything to do with me (not because of the gender stuff), now I have to deal with homelessness.

This weekend, while trying to protect my roommate and her two small children from her enraged husband, I was basically assaulted and then thrown out of my home. Imagine having to pack all of you belongings with a former Marine pigheaded egotistical god-complex-suffering abusive asshole screaming at you the whole time. . .

So what does this have to do with the rest of my journey? Well, when I put myself between him and her, he shoved me. Since I WILL NOT allow myself to be pushed around, I pushed back. He picked me up and threw me around some, but didn't actually hit me. Because I have a female body. If he had seen me as a guy, he would have kicked my ass, seriously hurt me. Am I lucky then? I couldn't help thinking that maybe if I had been a bioguy, I could have done more in the situation. Maybe if I had been on T, I would have had the strength to fight back, rather than just fighting to keep my feet on the ground. I don't know. And I guess that doesn't matter.

The whole time this fight was going on, Kimber was upstairs hysterical, not knowing if I was going to get hurt or if the kids and Liz (the friend I was protecting who lies to the police, our friends, and herself about what happened that night) were ok. Then a friend was told by Liz that I acted the way I did to "be butch for Kimber." It might have been stupid to not back down from an obviously dangerous person, but it wasn't butch, it wasn't done for show. It was done out of my sense of what's right and wrong. I did it to be butch. Yeah, right.

This guy thinks of himself and presents himself as the perfect male specimen. He thinks he is a good father, good husband, good man. If that's what being a man is about, let me never become one.

June 22, 1999

Things are finally back on track. I've got a place to live, which is a huge load off my shoulders. Slept there for the first time last night -- whew!

Big news of this week is that I go to my shrink on Thursday and maybe, probably, hopefully get my letter to begin testosterone. Then I'll have to find an endocrinologist who will monitor/administer the shots, at least until I can do them myself. But that's all kind of less important right now to me. Less important that the fact that I'm going to do this. Begin hormone therapy. Begin changing my body to finally match inside.

I'm still scared about transitioning at work. I figure I'll have a few months before it's obvious, and hopefully by then I'll know how to deal. I've been talking to guys who have done it and that gives me hope. Though I feel like it's strength I need and I'm not sure I've got it. It still sounds like a much better option to run away. But I just signed a year lease, so it looks like I'll be here in Eugene until July, 2000.

June 28, 1999

Well, no script for T, but it's ok. Talking with my shrink about not feeling ready to deal with transitioning at work, she suggested that I don't need to rush and put myself in a situation I don't feel ready for. I've got mixed feelings, because I am totally ready in every respect, except for that damn place I have to spend 40 hours every week. Going to see her is great, she challenges me and makes me consider what I do and why.

Kimber and I broke up last week. I hope she doesn't mind that I'm writing about this, but it seems relevant to me. Because much of the break up had to do with the fact that I just can't devote myself to anybody full time right now. It's all I can do to take care of myself and it wasn't fair to either one of us to be in the kind of relationship we were in. She deserves somebody who will be there for her, somebody who can make their relationship a top priority. That's not me right now. We're still friends, intend to stay that way. She's been so supportive and has made me feel good about myself in a way that very few people ever have. She is really a major reason that I felt ready to begin transition and I will never stop appreciating her love and support.

Hm. I seem to have lost July and August. Ooops.

September 2, 1999

I can't believe it's already September. And I still haven't started T. Went to the doc yesterday and no, didn't get my blood tests or anything. I did get an appointment for a full physical and all the blood test. On October 8. Sheesh. So now my goal is to get my first shot of T before my birthday, October 22.

I've got these shitty parents, right? Haven't spoken to them in almost a year now. And I'm sort of re-birthing myself with T and changing my name (as soon as I can get to the courthouse) and all. So I was thinking of changing my birthday too. I mean, why not? I could just tell people I was born Oct. 31, 1970. It's only a week difference and who really cares anyway? Maybe it's stupid. But it would be fun to have Halloween for my birthday like I always wanted.

Yeah, boring entry this time. I know. So what? I'm not all confused and hating myself these days, I'm on the way to getting what I want. It's a three day weekend coming up. What can I possibly complain about today?

September 10, 1999

Monday I'm going to the court house to get my name change papers. Well, ok, maybe not Monday, but definately next week. My schedule changed at work, from days to swing shift, which means that I will hate my hours but will have plenty of time during the day for things like doc appointments and getting to the court house. And, because it's nearly impossible to have a social life while working swings, it's much much easier to save money (think of how much I'll save just by not buying so much beer!). So I'm looking at this as a positive thing that may help me get surgery sooner.

So it's the high holy days, the big important days to a jew. I'm 100 percent jewish, as in it was always a big thing in my family that I never dated "my own kind," I disappointed an entire clan by not having a bat mitzvah, yiddish was the language when you didn't want the kids to understand, etc. I haven't been in a temple in probably 15 years, but today I'm thinking maybe I'd like to go, see what it's like now. I'm an adult (more or less) now, and I consider myself genetically jewish, so why not? Maybe the religion isn't what I thought it was when I was a kid and hated everything anybody insisted upon. My perception is different, my life is different. I think I may go check it out, maybe for Yom Kippur (the BIG one). We'll see.

Oh well, I guess that's all that's on my mind these days. le shanna tova (happy new year).

September 20, 1999

Feels like a lot has been going on, but really it's just been nothing but big plans. First off, I got my name change papers. Now I just have to jump through about 8 million hoops and cough up $84 and I'll legally be Jay David Snider. Yay!

Halloween weekend I'm going down to San Francisco to attend the SF Tranny Film Fest (I think I'll put a link in here) and do some filming with Melanie. And, this is the really huge thing, I may have a consult with Doc Brownstein, who is probably the best chest surgeon out there. I won't have the money for surgery for a while, but it'll be good to talk with him and get his ideas.

Other big news is that I have an appointment with the endo on Oct. 22, which just so happens to be my 29th birthday. If all goes as planned (though it never seems to I just keep hoping) my b-day will become my t-day. I couldn't be more pysched about it. I didn't purposefully arrange for it to be on my birthday, but it just seems so perfect. I'm rebirthing myself, as it were, and to begin the actual physical change on my birthday just feels perfect.

So that's what's going on. If you're interested in tattoos at all, check out my tattoo page for new stuff there.

September 29, 1999

I feel almost like I've taken a break from transition lately. I've got all these plans, appointments and paperwork and all, and I'm in a place now where I have to wait. Wait to see the doc next week. Wait to see the endo a few weeks later. Wait till payday to submit my name change papers. And I'm ok with all of this, because while it's still on my mind constantly, I've felt more able to just BE lately.

That said, I've been passing more and more lately and totally loving it. I'm not trying any harder than I have before, but I think it's just a confidence thing or something. I almost got some trouble at the corner store 'cause I was paying with my credit card and the guy wasn't going to take it. I loved it.

I met this fantastic amazing woman who thinks I'm great and who has no problem with me being an FtM. Damn. Life is just good these days I guess. I feel good about me and about my transition. Wow. Weird.

October 6, 1999

I had my pre-T physical today and it went really well. I had to have a pap smear and the whole pelvic intrusion, which I didn't appreciate, but it's been years so I figured I shouldn't complain. It has made it clear to me, though, that I need to start thinking about a hysto and all that stuff, 'cause I don't want to have to do the stirrup and speculum thing too many more times. Also, because I have high cholesterol, most of my blood work will be covered by my insurance, since the liver function is one of the most important things they test for before giving you T and it's the same test for cholesterol (or something like that. I'm not actually all that sure). Anyway, it went all right, my doctor is turning out to bea really good guy, and I'm two weeks away from the endo.

I had an interesting Taco Bell experience last night. Keep in mind, I haven't been "ma'am'ed" in a while. I was going through the drive through and when I ordered, the girl on the other side of the speaker called me ma'am. I thought, well, whatever. Soon enough my voice will drop. Then I pulled up to the window to pay, and without looking at me she said "That'll be $5.98 ma'am." Then she looked at me and the horror and embarassment on her face were so funny. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry sir. . ." I laughed and told her not to worry. It was great.

October 15, 1999

Who's a man? Who gets to call themselves a man? Is a man any male person who says "Hey, I'm a man!"? Is a woman any female person who says "Hey, I'm a woman"?

Just some questions that have come up for me lately. I don't feel like a grown up, so I hesitate to call or think of myself as a man. A guy, yeah sure. A boy, definitely. But I can't claim to be a man yet. Maybe T will change that. Maybe another T, Time, will.

Next Friday, a week from today, is the big day. I enter puberty on my 29th birthday. I don't know how I'll make it through the week. I'm going to call the endo on Monday just to make sure they have the T there and will be injecting me, 'cause I'd HATE to find out that I have to wait longer for some stupid reason.

I've recently heard from several guys out there who have really been getting something out of this web site. It's so cool to know this, 'cause that's exactly why the site was set up. So hey to you guys!

I guess I don't have much to say today. I'm sure I will next week.

October 18, 1999

I just had the coolest experience and I just had to get it up here. No, I'm not going to come running to my computer every time I get called sir or pass with ease, but this one, this one was just great.

Dave cut my hair last night and let's just say it needed a repair job. It's slow at work today so I went to the mall to the walk-in place for a quick cut. The woman seats me in her chair and starts the usual chit chat. She asks me where I work, and I tell her, explaining that it's a publishing/printing place. She asks if I'm a pressman and I say no, copy editor, then she asks how long I've worked there. So I tell her two and a half years, and she looks at me like she's trying to do the math. So all confused, she asks me how old I am and I tell her I'm gonna be 29 on Friday. She goes "No WAY," turns to the three other ladies sitting around waiting to cut hair, and goes "Does he look like he's anywhere near 29?" and they're all like "No, he looks like a teenager." So the woman decides that I don't look a day over 18 and happily returns to cutting my hair, calling me he and dude the whole time.

Now, I should be used to passing, it's never been a problem for me. But today, I don't know. It was special, 'cause this woman was up close and it seemed like if anyone was gonna peg me, it would be in that setting. It was just so cool I left the place whistling and smiling. Still am right now.

Hey, check out the new (poor quality, sorry) pictures on my tattoo page, as well as a few new ones in the picture page area.

October 19, 1999

What a suck ass day. The endo's office called to reschedule my appointment. The guy said the next available appt. with the doc, who was recommended to me by an MtF that I know as well as by my shrink, is NOVEMBER 22. Fuck that. So then the guy says I can have an appointment next week with this other endo guy they have there. But I know nothing about him, like will he even do this? I'm gonna call him tomorrow and demand to talk to the guy and see if he'll be ok. If he is, then I'll get my shot on the 28th.

So that doesn't seem like such a big deal, right? Just six days. But it's huge. Fucking huge. First of all, this Friday is my birthday. I saw this as a way for my birthday to be more than just marking the day that I squirted out of my bitch of a mother, nine months after she and my sick-o father fucked. That's not much of a reason to celebrate, is it? But if I reclaimed my birthday, had it be meaningful to me, important, special, that would have been cool. But it's not to be. Second, I was so so so psyched up for this and now I have to hurry up and wait some more. And third, goddammit, my friends planned a party for me to celebrate and now it's just going to be a boring birthday party.

I just met this guy named Dirk who's considering transition. In my advice to him I've stressed that patience seems to be one of the keys to transitioning. I guess I'm just gonna have to start reminding myself of that.

Patience. Patience. Patience.

October 27, 1999

Well ok, yeah. The last week has been pretty tough. But I just reread my last entry here and I have to say, I sure have calmed down. I guess I should have waited a few moments after finding all that out before railing on and on about it, but it made me feel better at the time.

So I am incredibly psyched, pumped, nervous and ANXIOUS for it to be tomorrow already. 8 am tomorrow, to be exact. I have emailed with the endo and he said that while he doesn't have much experience with transsexuals, he is an open guy and wouldn't have a problem with medically helping me get where I want (NEED) to be. And man, when I thought about having to wait til Nov. 22 for the endo, I just felt like I couldn't. I know I couldn't. And I don't have to now, so that's a huge relief. I wish I didn't have to come to work tomorrow, 'cause I'd rather spend the day examining my entire body for new hairs (yes, I know there won't be any that quick, but I wish!), but at least I'll have a few hours between the needle and having to be here.

My truck also died last week, and so money troubles have been dominating my thoughts. But today I think I've got them ironed out enough that I'll be able to pay the endo (insurance has already sent a letter saying they won't be paying) and most of my rent. I have got some of the most incredible friends in the world, people who not only provide me with love and support, but who do whatever they can for me and know I'd do the same for them. I don't know what I'd do without them (yes, you Dave and Shannon and Kari).

November 2, 1999

I just realized that I hadn't posted here since getting my shot. I GOT MY SHOT! It all went so well it seemed kind of surreal. The endo was very nice, as was his nurse. I went to the office, did the whole medical history thing, had a little exam, and then a shot in the ass. He wanted to start me on a low dose, which is understandable, but I've since learned that the dose I started at (25 mg) is very very low and probably will have absolutely no effect. So I e-mailed him and he said it wouldn't be a problem to go to 75mg next time, which is next week. I'm really trying to pay attention to how I feel and be realistic about what might be the T acting on my body. For instance, I've had a sore throat since Friday. But no matter how much I would love for it to be because of the thickening of my vocal cords, I know it is most likely just a cold.

I am pretty sure that I smell slightly different. Other than that, no changes to report. Even knowing that the dose I started at was so low, I'm still just thrilled to have gotten the T-ball rolling. It feels great to be on my way.

November 8, 1999

Ever wonder why, when things seem to be pretty shitty, they just keep getting shittier? Maybe that's just my experience or me being a whiner. Not really sure and what does it matter anyway? Kari is starting feel like she's not sure she wants to lose her lesbian identity. And I can't blame her, really, but it still sucks. She's working on it, getting in touch with an SO list and hopefully she'll decided that she can still be her but still be with me. It's just too bad, because I really care about her and don't want my stupid gender crap to get in the way of an otherwise great relationship. And it makes me think: ok, if this is a problem with Kari, who things were great with, it's going to be a problem with Anyone I date. Lesbians want to date women. You can't blame them for that. But are straight women really going to want to date me? I don't know. I don't really want to find out. I want things to work with Kari.

I think I'm starting to see the effects of the T. I'm pretty sure I've got a few new hairs on my belly and above my upper lip. Hard to say for sure, though. I'm feeling run down and kind of crappy, so that could be the "trough" that guys talk of, the time when the T is leaving their system and before the next shot. I'm getting my next shot on Thursday and if I feel better afterward I'm going to start my shots weekly, or every 10 days to avoid this yuck feeling.

November 16, 1999

Welcome to the roller coaster. Last week I was really down. This week, I'm really up. Could it be that after 20 years of suffering from depression I've finally entered a manic phase? Or could it be that testosterone really elevates my mood? Or could it all just be psychosomatic reactions to getting my shots? You know what? I don't care which it is. I feel great.

Had my second shot last Thursday, a full three times the dose I had previously (both are still low doses, in fact less than half of the standard dose). The four days before that, my mood had been low, I'd been feeling like I couldn't pay attention to stuff around me, just generally YUCK. By Friday I realized that I was a bundle of energy, talking more, just feeling better. And I'm still feeling damn good. Next shot is next Wednesday, so we'll see if I keep this mood up or hit a skid by the end of this week.

I know you are all anxious to know about hair growth or other changes. I am positive about a few new hairs on my upper lip (confirmed by two independant sources, if my girlfriend and my roommate count). Belly hair is a maybe. I know it should be much to early to have hair growth, but the mustache hair I am totally sure about, so who knows what else is possible?

November 22, 1999

Prepare for me to rant about: "The Holidays." I hate all this holiday season crap and I get grumpier every year about the whole consumerist/ethonocentric mess. Look, I don't celebrate Christmas and I don't want pity for it. I hate it when people say "What did you get for Christmas" and then look horrified when I try to explain that it's not my holiday. They think it's unAmerican to NOT celebrate Christmas. People have said to me "Well, what about when you have kids, it wouldn't be fair to not let them have christmas" and I want to punch them in the mouth. What the hell is it to them? I didn't have Christmas when I was a kid and I turned out. . . well. . . uh. . .pretty ok! (that's supposed to be funny). I've thought about it a lot and I have the feeling my kids will celebrate Christmas, assuming their mother wants to. And thinking of the woman I love, sharing happy memories from her childhood with our kids, shoot. Isn't *that* what all the holiday stuff is about, not what toys to buy? Anyway, I'm starting my DOWN WITH THE HOLIDAYS spew now and hoping that I'll have vented all my seasonal bile by Thursday, when I share Thanksgiving with Kari and her family.

Now why is it when you really really care about somebody, a meaningless day like Thanksgiving suddenly becomes a day to spend together, sharing. . .what? A turkey leg? Is it just tradition that we buy into, that says that you should be with your loved ones? I don't do much that is traditional, and I certainly not for the sake of tradition. So why is it so important for me to see Kari that I'm renting a car and driving on the worst traffic days of the year? All I know is that I really really WANT to be with her and I'm going to be with her and that makes me happy.

Isn't it nice to read about something besides my hair growth patterns every now and then?

November 29, 1999

Got my third shot of T last week, and it was special for a two reasons. One was that it was 100 mg, which is about half a standard dose but still more than I'd gotten previously. The second reason was the big one. I did it myself. It was so cool! The nurse was there and watched me do it, sorta talked me through it, but I stuck the needle in my thigh and shot the T in. It was a real feeling of accomplishment. And it wasn't hard at all. I thought I might get weirded out, sticking myself, but it was actually a piece of cake. Maybe my history of self-abuse made it easier (you can laugh at that, it's ok). Anyway, it went fine, though I got a little red lump that lasted for a few days afterward. From what I understand this is not unusual, though it never happened when the nurse stuck my butt. I'm already looking forward to doing it again, in my home.

Despite my rant (see above) I really enjoyed Thanksgiving with Kari's family. Her brother and his girlfriend were cool, her folks very nice, and the food was fantastic. Interestingly, usually Mom's love me. I don't know why, I think somehow I just charm them. I don't try or anything, it just happens and it's fine with me since my own mother can't stand me (oh, boo hoo, feel sorry for Jay now). Anyway, I think Kari's dad really liked me, but her mom didn't seem to warm to me. Maybe when your daughter brings home a transsexual it takes more than a few good jokes and compliments on her stuffing to get Mom to welcome you to the family.

December 8, 1999

Best thing that's happened in the past week or so is that I gave myself my first shot in my own home. Well, actually it was in my own thigh, but I did it in the kitchen. It was really cool to do it in my space, in my time, solo. The whole process is neat, like a little ritual I can perform. My "I'm soon to be a man" ritual. I find injecting to be easy an dthis time I didn't get the red swelling at all. I hardly even bled from it.

Let's see. Have I noticed any T changes? My eyebrows seem thicker. That's not quite what I had in mind while wishing for facial hair, but beggars can't be choosers, so. . . My beard hair seems to be growing faster, but not spreading to the right side of my chin yet. I can do more push-ups than I could last time I tried, and with much more ease, so I guess I'm getting stronger. I definitely smell different, uh, down there. My piss smells different too. Other than that, I feel like the same old Jay.

December 13, 1999

I'm getting ever closer to coming out at work. I've reached the point now where I almost don't know who people are talking to when they use my birth name, and the only time I hear that name is at work. Something must be done. I'm planning on beginning the name change hoop-jumping either this week or next. My friend Robin is an MTF and is ready to do hers as well, so we're going to try to do the process together so we each have some moral support. I don't think it'll be that big a deal, but it will be nice to not have to do it alone.

Robin also showed me the letter she gave to her Human Resources people at work and now I'm plotting what to write for mine. Her "coming out" at work went really well and it seemed freeing for her. I'm feeling more and more like I'm ready to do it, ready to start "living full time" and ready to face whatever might come of it, at work or where ever. I think I'm ready. Though if I think about it too much, I can convince myself I'm nowhere near ready. Does that mean that I'm really not, or that I am but just a bit scared? Or does it just mean that I analyze every little thing until I can argue both sides and paralyze myself with indecision?

December 21, 1999

It was just a matter of time, I suppose. But I didn't think it would happen this soon. I broke up with Kari last night. I will never be what she wants and I don't want to be a constant disappointment to her. She's not into guys. She wants some womanly touch thing that she thinks I can't provide for her so I decided to just get it over with now so she can pursue chicks and I can find somebody who will love me and appreciate me for what I do have to offer. I'm sad, really really sad because I wanted it to work with her.

So now I'm back to "who the hell is ever going to love me???" This is one break up I think it is safe to blame on transitioning. Kari knew about my transition from the beginning but I didn't know how much of a problem it was going to end up being. So another great relationship with huge potential bites the dust.

December 26, 1999

Finally filed my name change papers at Lane County Courthouse, Eugene Oregon!!!!! My court date is on January 6. I simply go in to court, swear to the judge that I am not changing my name to escape from creditors, get some papers signed, wait another two weeks (dumb two weeks) and then, on January 20, it will be official. First name Jay, middle name D (please note: no period after the D). I'm so psyched that my credit cards and DRIVERS LICENSE will be right, that the bank people won't question me when I try to deposit my checks, for my stupid paperwork to not cause me embarassment and hassle everywhere I go. I can hardly wait. I wish I'd done it months ago, like I said I was going to. Oh well, no matter. It won't be long now.

Kari and I are going to work things out, I think. We're going to see each other in a couple of days and figure out if we can do what it takes to stay together. I sure hope we can.

You know, I get these great emails from people telling me they've followed my journey and telling me to hang in there, asking advice or just saying "hey man me too." And a lot of the people who email me comment on how open I am, putting all my stuff up here like this. I really enjoy it though, I like writing and I like telling stories and I like knowing that people are reading what I write and are connecting with it. It's so worth it.

January 5, 2000

Lots has been going on. Things with Kari are looking up, mainly because we love each other and have too much fun together to not try to make it work. We spent New Years together, talked about the issues we have, got tattoos together, spent quality time cuddling on the couch. It's great just to be with her and I'm really glad that we sorted some things out. I will have a picture of my new (VERY COOL) tattoo on my tattoo page shortly, if you are interested.

Big changes (well, they seem big to me) from T! Hair is spreading across my belly, fine little hairs but a ton of them. My belly is kind of changing shape, becoming more of a pot belly (just what I've always wanted!). My sideburns are creeping down my face and my mustache and beard hair is growing in thicker and faster. Not too much new hair there, but the hair is definitely coming on strong. My voice is way deeper and crackling like a teenage boy. I really like the way it sounds now, actually. It feels different too, the way my chest sort of vibrates when I speak. My, errrrr. Let's just say some growth below the belt is occuring and I'm enjoying it A LOT!

My name change hearing is on Thursday, tomorrow. I can't wait to go to the DMV and get my driver's license changed. I've already told everyone at work that I'm changing my name and so far the response has been good. I haven't quite mentioned why, though a bunch of people do know. It won't be long before I'm at that point. Not quite yet though. Soon.

January 10, 2000

My name change is official!!!!!!!!!Whooooo hooooooo. Turns out, once the judge signs the slip and the clerk stamps it, you've got your certified copy and you are On Your Way. Actually, I could have been changing my name to Jesus Fucking Christ for all the judge seemed to care. It was a total piece of cake. I'm going to the DMV tomorrow and I shall return with a new driver's license. Maybe I'll even scan it in to put on display here.

I debated writing anything here about what I refered to as my "growth below the belt" and now I think I shall. Kari pointed out that before I started T I would have loved to know this stuff. So this is for you guys. If you don't want to read about the size of my dick, go look at a picture of my new tattoo.

So, now that they're gone, let me tell you about my dick. I should start by saying that I honestly don't feel that T has made me any hornier than usual. But now that I've discovered how great dick growth can be, I have been somewhat more inclined to entertain myself with it for hours. Basically, it's just growing and growing. I haven't measured but if I had to say, I'd guess it's about two inches long when it's good and hard. Before T, it was definitely smaller than average. Now though, it looks like a real miniature dick. Amazing. And fun. More surface area means more surface area to feel *goooooood*. I'm gonna shut up now. Let's just say that my dick is my favorite new T development.

January 11, 2000

Got my name changed on my driver's license today. Click here to see it. The only drag is that I couldn't get that little F changed to an M. In Oregon your shrink has to be on the DMV's list of Harry Benjamin SOC devotees, and then with a letter from said shrink you can get the gender changed. This is not a legal gender change, which requires court visits and letters saying you've had surgery. This is mainly for the purpose of allowing people to do their one year real life tests. Anyway, my shrink is supposed to get on the list and when she does I'll go back to get the gender changed. Right now I'm just psyched to be rid of that old driver's license. I get carded a LOT, so this will make me much more comfortable about the whole damn thing. Anyway, check it out. I removed my DL # 'cause you just never know what kind of crazies might get a hold of it. And in case you're wondering, that's not my current address on there either.

January 20, 2000

Passing. I don't really think of it as passing anymore. It's starting to not even excite me. I mean, I fully expect to "pass" and do about 95 (or more) percent of the time. So it's not a big deal anymore. And I've been going into men's rooms with utter confidence these days and aside from the STINK of those places, it's been just fine. In fact, I find it easier to take care of business in there (without getting too graphic, let's just say I'm not talking about "number one") because doing so around guys is just easier than around women.

I've been thinking a lot about my history as female and how much that has shaped who I am. I realize that I'm never going to be just like a "regular" guy and in fact I don't want to be. I want to be just like ME and ME happens to have been female-bodied for 28 years. That's part of who I am and at this stage in my life, I like who I am. So I've decided to, as the new age folks say, embrace that side of myself and know that it contributes greatly to the person I am. Kari told me recently that she wouldn't be involved with me if I had been born a guy, and that she had been afraid to tell me that. But it really was a good thing to hear, to remind me that I *DO* understand things that a bioguy might not, I *DO* move through the world in ways that a bioguy might not. I'm not saying I want to be a third gender person or anything like that. I guess it's more that being female for a long time is the same as having gone to college in New Hampshire or having been abused as a child -- all things that have made me who I am today, that have led me to where I am today. I'm the sum of my experiences, whether they be good or bad. I guess it's about time I figured that out.

January 25, 2000

I hate the fact that I have to be on anti-depressants, probably for EVER. I'm not the best about remembering to take them and when I do forget, my friends usually notice before I do. That kind of bugs me too. I wish I could pay more attention to this stuff myself, so I wouldn't have to be told "Uhhh, Jay. Take your meds, would ya?"

It's interesting to me, because people talk about increased sex drive or aggression or mood swings when they start taking T. I haven't noticed any of that, but then again, I'm famous for noticing that kind of thing. Even hair growth to me is kind of iffy: Was that hair there before and I just didn't notice it?

Blah blah blah. Boring today. Sorry.

February 2, 2000

Without getting into a lot of details, let's just say once again Kari and I are having problems. But this time I think we are really going to solve them before we move on. One way or the other, we are hoping for some resolution. I'm hoping, of course, that she can find a way to become ok about my transition, to not be sad about it or fearful. But we've agreed (I think) that if she can't reach that point it would be better for both of us to move on.

Other than that, about which I am very hopeful, things are moving right along. In a discussion with my boss about a new technology which supposedly allows horse breeders to chose the gender of their foals (don't ask, I work for a horse magazine. . .) I almost just told her about my transition. Didn't seem like it would have been the right time, so I didn't. But I'm inching inching inching my way closer to that. Soon, very soon.

Hair hair everywhere. My belly is furry, my chin hair has finally started slowly spreading, and my sideburns are definitely inching downward. My voice is deep, so deep my best friend didn't recognize me when I called her the other day. I'm feeling good physically and emotionally. Things are going fine and I believe they will only get better.

February 11, 2000

There have been lots of pieces on the new shows recently about gender identity and such. Kind of interesting that it's been in the news -- I'd guess that has to do with Boys Don't Cry. While some guys I know are quick to be critical of everything they see as it pertains to transsexuals or gender issues, I just think it's great that it's being discussed in a larger forum than those it is usually kept to. And I think we, as the "gender community" need to allow that television shows can't possibly get *everything* right when it comes to our lives and experiences. Perhaps by encouraging more dialoge rather than trashing their attempts we can better educate the media and through them, the masses.

On an entirely different note: I've got an appointment with Doctor Peggy Ching in San Francisco in April. I've been hearing good things about her top surgery so I've scheduled a consult with her since I'm going to be down there visiting friends and filming. I talked to her assistant on the phone today and when he asked what I wanted to see her about I said something along the lines of "I'm a female to male transsexual and I'd like to discuss top surgery" and his response was "Oh, cool." Then he explained that he was an FTM too and we chatted a bit. It was kinda funny, 'cause "Oh cool" wasn't the reaction I expected, if you know what I mean. Anyway, he said she was very cool and non-judgemental and best of all, she doesn't require letters for the surgery. My shrink is pretty much a stickler for the Harry Benjamin SOC, but I sure can't imagine waiting a whole year before getting the chest taken care of. So I'm pysched to have this consult and really looking forward to it.

February 21, 2000

I'm moving to Seattle! It's official (just don't tell my boss, I haven't given my notice at work yet). I'm planning on being out of my place by the end of March and in my new place, with Kari. Things between us are great and I couldn't be happier about moving in with her, getting to see her Every Day. And the prospect of getting a job I like isn't too bad either!

I know via email plenty of other FTMs who live in Seattle, and there are support groups and all kinds of stuff going on there all time. I think it will be really good for me to be someplace where I will have that kind of support. My friends here are fantastic, but it's not the same kind of thing as being around others who can really relate. And Seattle's just a cool place. Yeah, so in case it wasn't abundantly clear, I'm way psyched about this.

How about a hair update? My butt is getting slightly fuzzy and my thighs are starting to fill in too. For some reason I never had much hair on my thighs at all. Anyway, there's that and my belly hair, which is coming in nicely, and my chest hair is really starting to sprout. All of that body hair though is still in the fine, baby hair state (though some of the belly hair is thickening up). My chin hair is almost attaching in the middle, but not quite. Plenty of new hairs there though, and even under my chin. Sideburns still taking their time creeping down my jaw line and mustache coming along, but SLOWLY. I think that does it for the hair update...

February 29, 2000

Kari and I were just discussing body images and whatnot, and it's really gotten me thinking. It's been about a year since I decided to transition. Physically, I'm not THAT much different than I was then. My voice is deeper, more hair here and there, to be sure, but really not much besides that that anybody but me or my intimates would notice. So why do I feel so damn good about my body now? I think part of it is knowing that the changes are going to happen - chest surgery is on the horizon, as are that goatee, sideburns, etc., that I'm so looking forward to. But there's more to it than that. I think liking who I am, who I am becoming, is making it easier to deal with the body. I always have said that this body is just the vehicle that carts ME around and that ME exsists in my head, my brain. I still largely believe that to be true, but since I've got this vehicle carting me around, I might as well do what I can to make it reflect something of who I am. Continuing the analogy, I guess my tattoos could be likened to bumper stickers (speaking of tattoos, check out my new ink on my tattoo page ). T is like giving my body high test gasoline that will make it perform better and wax and new paint to make it look as good as it runs. Why not go a little further - surgery is like souping it up, restoring it, getting it to look just right. Alright, I'm a dork. Point is, I'm not all depressed and distraught about my body like I thought I would be at this stage, while waiting for surgery and changes that would wipe away the femaleness. Yeah, I'm anxious, but it's in a good way, I'm looking forward to it, excited about the changes. Instead of stressing out about still having tits I can just happily and excitedly anticipate when they'll be gone Gone GONE!

Hey, check out the counter on my home page - finally topped 10,000. Not bad for a site that has been around for just under a year, eh?

March 8, 2000

What a great day! Why? Why not? I'm just feeling good, looking forward to whatever lies ahead, and well...I'm just HAPPY.

First of all, I got my letter to get the darn F taken off my driver's license and the M put in its place. I'll go to the DMV tomorrow and take care of it. Second, I'm having a hair growth spurt. After four days of not shaving I've got a weak goatee. Yes, weak, but it's coming along quickly. At this pace I should have *something* to show off to my best friend when I visit San Francisco next month.

But most importantly, for whatever reason, I'm just feeling great. Physically great, emotionally great, the whole deal. I didn't get sick once this winter, which is a rarity for me, and I haven't had a migraine since my last bout of estrogen poisoning (a very creative term I heard used once in reference to "menstruation..."). I'm eating better as I watch my gut moving up and turning into a furry beer belly. My muscles feel strong, my arms are getting BIG, all in all my body is just humming right along.

I'm gonna shut up about how great I feel, 'cause I know it can be pretty damn annoying to hear all this positive crap.

March 17, 2000

Two more weeks two more weeks two more weeks. Ok, first of all, I have hated the job I've been at for almost three years. In two weeks I will never have to read another boring list of heavy equipment specs. That alone is reason enough to be thrilled to be moving. But Kari... Kari... I don't think I could be happier with a person if I crafted them myself. We moved all her stuff to the new place last weekend, and even busting butt hauling boxes and furniture around was fun with her. Ahhhh, Kari... can't wait till she reads this and gets all embarassed.

Truck problems (which translate to money problems) have kept me from getting my DL changed, but I plan on doing it on Monday. Just knowing I *can* sort of takes the urgency away. As it is now, though, when I show my ID I never really worry about people seeing that F. I don't think anybody ever looks.

Oh yeah, truck problems brought me to an interesting discovery. Men don't get shit for help when their vehicle breaks down. Ten oclock at night my truck limps into a gas station, stalls and dies. Won't start up. The guy working there is closing the place up and I ask if he has any jumper cables. He glances at me, says nope and goes about his business. I realized I did have cables, so I ask him for a jump and he comes over, looking all put out. Jump doesn't work 'cause my alternator's falling off (long story that I'm sure you don't want to know about) and he points out the broken bolt and is like "That's your problem, if you find a bolt before I leave I'll give you a jump," and then he splits. I had to laugh knowing that if I was a chick he would have been a lot more helpful. It might also be that my truck is a big old beast and he may have figured I know *something* about fixing it. Anyway, I thought it was facinating - how many people get to see firsthand how differently men and women are treated?

March 23, 2000

I'm moving in eight days! So excited, so hopeful, so optimistic. So unprepared . . . I haven't packed a thing. After my last move, when I went from happily living somewhere to completely moved out in six hours, this one won't be too bad. And besides, I never really unpacked half my stuff anyway.

This matters to you if you are used to checking here for updates. I won't have regular access to a computer for a while, so my updates will probably slow down a bit. Man, I don't know *what* I'm gonna do without daily email. I'll survive. Somehow... Anyway, I'll update one more time before I move, I reckon, but after that it may be a while. Or not, depending on how long it takes me to find a job (that I can screw around on the internet at).

No, I still don't have a job lined up. Truthfully, I'm stressing a little bit. I know I'll find something, even if I have to take something less than perfect. What's stressing me out is just knowing that I'll have no money for the first few weeks I live with Kari. Not really how you want to step into a new level of a relationship. So I'm hoping I can make it up to her by just being the best boyfriend she could ever hope for, doing whatever I can to make her happy and providing her with lots of laughter. Hey, laughter's free!

March 29, 2000

Well, this may be my last update for a little while. But hopefully not for too long. I should be able to use the computer at Kari's office a bit, so I'll try to update here occassionally. Never fear, my friends, I won't leave you.

I got my "M" on my driver's license yesterday. It was simple and easy and I didn't feel weird about doing it at all. I had a moments thought of "they're gonna think I'm a wacko" but that didn't matter. And actually, I didn't sense any such thing from any of the three people who I dealt with. In Oregon to get the gender marker changed, you just have to have a letter requesting it from your shrink, who must be on the state's list of shrinks who follow the Harry Benjamin bullshit standards. That's it. I don't know what it's like in other places, but this seemed pretty reasonable to me. Unfortunately, the good picture from my old, F-bearing license is now replaced with a picture that makes me look like I have a quadruple chin. No sweat, though. I'll get a new Washington license soon enough.

Moving in 3 days! THREE DAYS. I just can't wait to see Kari every day, to spend my evenings with her, sleep next to her every night, wake up next to her every morning. I really look forward to doing all the boring crap that people end up taking for granted, like watching TV together, chatting over dinner, moving around each other in the bathroom. I'm sure we'll take all that for granted at some point, but until then I know we're going to enjoy and appreciate having the opportunity to share it with each other. I'm such a mushy bastard.

April 14, 2000

Well, how about that. Finally got a chance to sit at a computer for a few moments and update here. I should be surfing the employment sites, but with three interviews this week and at least one, maybe two, next week, I think I can take a break and write a little bit.

Let's see, where to begin?? Well, we finally got into our house, all the work is done (painting, staining, assorted crap like that) and now we're in the process of unpacking and organizing. But after today it'll have to wait for a few days 'cause we're going to San Francisco! Gonna work on the film with Melanie, who's going to film some with Med, my best friend, and Sean, a really cool guy I met on the MtMInfo list a year ago who's going to be in SF at the same time. So it should be a productive and fun trip. But the best part, THE BEST PART is that I'm seeing Dr. Peggy Ching on Tuesday for a chest surgery consult! Finally a step in the tit-removal direction. I am looking forward to it so much I have to keep myself from thinking about it. 'Cause after this, if it goes well, I'll be able to schedule surgery and if I think about THAT too much I can hardly contain myself. It's gonna be warm out soon and to feel sunshine on my chest... to walk the dog in the morning in just a pair of shorts, shit, to just get dressed without having to check and recheck my chest... I could go on and on. Ahhhhh, chest surgery. :-)

Living with Kari has been fantastic, not just because we can have sex whenever we want to, but because BEING with her makes me feel good. It's kind of hard to put into words, that feeling I get when I even think about the fact that when I get home this afternoon, she'll be there. Or if she's not there, she'll be there soon. God I love that woman.

You're probably dying to know about my hair growth, right? Right? Well, ok. It seems to be somewhat stalled. Chin hair is still growing, but not meeting in the middle yet, which is driving me crazy. If it just would I could have a tiny little beard. But nope. Actually in the last few weeks the only changes I've notices is that my butt and hips are getting smaller (HORRRAY!), my arms are getting more muscular looking and my hair is falling out. I'm getting that receding at the temples thing, which truthfully doesn't bother me that much. Well, when I get out of the shower and I have hair stuck all over me, on the walls, in the drain, it does give me a slight pause. But it's not *that* noticable and besides, I'm in this for the whole deal and if that means bald too, so be it!

May 31, 2000

Back again. You thought I'd NEVER get around to updating again, didn't you?

Where to begin? I've got a new job - soon I'll be one of those young dotcom millionaire's you've been hearing so much about (yeah right). The work is just fine, but what totally Kicks Ass is that I'm Jay the guy here. No doubt, no questions, no need to worry. For more about that, click here.

More good news is that I've got a surgery date tentatively set for July 8. I should actually know this weekend if the date is mine, if we'll be a go for the old chop job in just over a month. Man, I hope so. Binding is a pain in the ass, and the chest. Everyday after work I undo my binder in the car on the way home from the bus stop and breath a huge sigh of relief. The thing is so uncomfortable and leaves big red marks that itch like hell. Nope, I won't be sorry to be done with binding forever.

T-wise, things are moving right along. The bald spot in the middle of my chin is starting to fill in with some thicker hairs and I'd say by the end of the June I'll have a nice little tip of the chin beard. Won't be thick or impressive, but it'll be there. My arms feel tighter, more muscular and bigger and my hair is falling out at an alarming rate. I think that's about it for that.

I guess the last thing of interest is that Sir, the Movie was shown in a very early sort of work in progress version at the Northwest Tranny Film Fest. Melanie, who's doing the hard part (everything except front of the camera stuff) put together a little sampler, showing some of the things the film will be about. The most striking thing about the short is how different I look and SOUND from the first time we filmed in August 99 to the most recent time, in April. My mannerisms seemed different in the latter one, but I think that had more to do with having just awakend from a nap when we filmed than with T. But my voice... what a trip.

I think that's all I'll get into for now. I've got lots of insights about the world and how I feel in it these days, but that'll just have to wait for another time.

June 11, 2000

Well, my tentative surgery date is no longer. In fact, unless something huge happens, I will not be having surgery with Dr. Ching. A mix up with her office regarding how much my surgery would cost has left me frustrated and surgeonless. Ok, that's not entirely true. I've got a consult with a doc here in Seattle at the end of the month, so I'm hoping surgery will still happen this summer.

I think that somehow, because my surgery plans have been screwed up, I've been a little insecure lately. I look down and I still see this chest in my way. I don't hate my tits, the fact that they're there doens't make me feel less like a man. They just annoy me. Aesthetically, they're wrong and I'd like them gone now, please. I'm sick of checking to make sure my binding deal is working well. And damn, am I sick of binding. I get home each night and the first thing I do is unbind myself. I hate feeling squished all the time. It's kinda like how I imagine people who wear really tight jeans feel -- yuck. So I'm always checking my chest, making sure I'm bound ok, feeling physically uncomfortable, and not totally satisfied with my appearance.

I guess the good news is that the chest annoyance is about all that's bugging me these days. Well, that and the fact that some FTMs will go for the cheap, easy insult if they don't like something you say. Disagree with me? You're not a man. I hate that shit. It's kind of funny, 'cause it doesn't make me feel any need to prove my manhood to anyone. I hate it 'cause it's so unoriginal and low. And so obviously an admission of having nowhere else to go in the arguement. "I don't like what you say. You have no balls and you're not a man." Sheesh. I like arguing and all that. But please - challenge my ideas, not my manhood.

June 19, 2000

Consult with Dr. Bubak in two days. I'm psyched, really hoping that this will be *it*, that I'll leave his office with a surgery date and it won't be in the too too distant future. In the meantime, to tide me over, I got a new tattoo yesterday (it really had nothing to do with tiding me over, I just wanted it...). Also got some weights and am gonna get back on the working out thing. I don't mind being a big guy at all, but big and defined would make me feel better than big and soft.

Here's an interesting little tidbit. At work my co-workers and I will occassionally chat, tell childhood stories and whatnot. When I was talking about having really long hair, they were suprised and it occured to me, whatever pictures they get in their head as I tell one childhood story or another is BOUND to be different than the pictures in MY head. It was an odd realization. It's kind of fun, actually, because when they picture me as I describe myself in high school as a punk with a mostly shaved head and combat boots, their images are a a lot more like what I would have *wanted* to look like anyway, the way I visualized myself at the time. I don't know what I'm talking about here. Just facinated by this whole process still, I guess.

July 1, 2000

It's official, the money has come through, and the gurney's got my name on it - I'm having surgery on July 26. Without being too gushy or silly, I'd like to take this moment to say "FUCKIN' A, YAAAAAAHHHHHOOOOOOO!

There, now I'll get back to my self. The doc didn't require a letter from any doc or shrink from me, and it's a good thing 'cause I'm not sure what i would have done. I asked my old shrink in Eugene if she'd write me a letter even though I haven't been on T for a year, gave her this explanation about how having tits has gone beyond a dysphoric problem and has become a true source of physical discomfort (as in binding is a FUCKING pain) and she said she'd think about it. And I thought, uhhh, excuse me? I'm not doing any "real life test" here, this is my life. And if it *were* a test-- is it to see if I live successfully full time as a guy with TITS, for gods sake? It shows I'm resourceful I guess, and dedicated, and willing to be uncomfortable all day long, but is that what the test is for? I don't think so.

July 22, 2000

Surgery in three days. How do I feel? I'm definitely excited and anxious, and I think I'm mildly dazed. I think some part of me still expects something to get in the way of this actually happening, like an hour before the surgery something's gonna happen and it'll have to be postponed. But most of me knows (or really really hopes) that's not going to be the case. I'm somehow going to make it through the next three days and then BAM! No more tits! I've gotten used to ignoring them, I wonder how long it will take to get used to them being gone.

Melanie is here and we're filming one of the final installments of our documentary. It's kinda weird to know that I'll have a permanent record of how much my views have changed on some issues, how much my body has changed, my voice, etc. And this is going to be out there for perfect strangers to see and judge. I feel like even if I make an ass of myself with it all, at least it's really me.

I got my first hate mail from the site yesterday. Here it is, in it's entirety:

From: Daryl Walters - jayonpoint@yahoo.com
Subject: Question
Hey Asshole, have you always been a fucking idiot or did you take lessons? Let me know when and where you want to meet so I can kick your dyke lesbian ass.
JD

I encourage anybody who reads this piece of literature to feel free to let Mr. Walters know what a flaming moron he is.

August 2, 2000

I'm a total lame-o for not posting sooner about my surgery - I know it. And no pics to post now, but rest assured, before pics as well as various post-op times will be posted as I get pics and get them developed/scanned. Thanks to Caleb (thanks dude!) I have a laptop on loan that will allow me to sit in the comfort of my own home and write this up. It's tough to be too contemplative or graphic about surgery while surrounded by kids at the library researching dinosaurs on the Internet...

So. I had a double mastectomy with nipple grafts (nipples made smaller and moved to their new location on my new chest) on July 26. The night before I thought I'd be more hyper or nervous, but mostly I was sort of numb. I think even to that point I was waiting for something to go wrong and didn't want to allow myself to be too disappointed. Anyway, who cares about that? The night before was spent on logistics--I got some good advice from guys about post-op fitting the house. I moved a bunch of shirts to lower hangers so I could reach them if I needed them, pulled some food to lower levels, stocked the fridge with Gatorade, bought some bendy straws, etc. Kari and I discussed whether I should wear underwear if I was just going to have to remove it and deal with putting it back on after the surgery, and I opted to wear it. Discovered that you *can* wear boxers during chest surgery, so there's one little question answered.

. . .

The next morning woke up feeling and nervous and somewhat scared about surgery, but mainly just expectant. Got to the clinic right on time (the doc works out of a big clinic with surgical suites, all sorts or docs, barely discernible from a hospital really) and went to the docs office. Closed. Suddenly we realized maybe we were supposed to meet in one of the surgery suites. But where the hell were they? I came close to hitting my frustration freak out point - usually self directed and this time for not paying attention to where I was supposed to GO! How could I NOT know where to go for my damn surgery??? Anyway, we found our way and next thing I knew I was dressed in my gown and robe and booties on my feet. A nurse came over to make sure I was me, and said she needed me to say what procedure I was having done. "Mastectomy" I said, and she needed clarification - yes, a double please. What a drag that would have been if they only did one! Soon after, the doc came in and drew in purple pen all over my chest, having me stand this way and that to make sure everything was lining up.

Dr. Bubak is usually a friendly guy with a quick sort of humor, but I noticed he was all business before surgery. I didn't realize beforehand what a comforting thing that was - a joking friendly doc is great but I'd prefer a guy to be serious when he's about to cut me. Next I talked with the anesthesiologist, followed him and the nurse to the operating room, and hopped up onto the slab.

. . .

The coolest part of surgery, in my opinion, is how you remember one moment so clearly and then the next moment is hours later. A nurse was putting massaging socks (or something like that) on my legs up to my thigh and the anesthesiologist was hooking up my IV and I was trying to stay calm. My last thought as I laid there was that the labels on the hoses leading to the ceiling (I think they were hoses carrying oxygen and various gases used in anesthesia) were upside down.

Next thing I know I'm waking up and being asked if I wanted water. I didn't even feel any pain and had that moments thought of "uh oh, they didn't do it..." The pain came around eventually but it wasn't too bad at all. I had gone into surgery at 8 am and woke in the recovery room at 11:30, after being in there for about a half hour. By noon they let Kari come in and help me dress. I don't know why they bother giving a person that doped up instructions on Anything, but I seem to remember a nurse telling me this or that, and looking at Kari and hoping she was getting it. Got wheeled out to the car, got in, and was home before I knew it.

. . .

Here I cannot stress enough how wonderful a reclining chair is. It's not so easy at first to operate the lever to get your feet up, but leaning forward or back is a breeze. We set me up with a table next to the recliner and I pretty much stayed there for days. I also learned that a sports drink top (the spout thing you pull out with your teeth and then squirt or suck into your mouth) works better than straws for drinking while laying down. In hindsight, I'm glad that my surgery was done only a few miles from home, because it was nice to be in my own surroundings rather than a strange place those first few days. We had no worries about getting lost going to the office for surgery, no worries about getting around a strange city, being a guest in somebody (even my best friend's) house. It was good to be home through it all.

Pain wise I'm feeling damn good and have been from the beginning. There hadn't been much pain at all, really, mainly a soreness in my armpits where the doc did liposuction. The incisions don't hurt at all, and neither do the muscles in my chest. Sleeping has been a bit of a drag, since laying on my back hurts my shoulders for some reason - could be old shoulder injuries or just stiffness. I feel like my shoulders would be fine if I could just stretch my arms over my head, pop my shoulders, hang from a bar, somehow stretch those muscles out. But I can't, so sleeping has been sort of spotty and painful. I just wake up early and hit the recliner and catch a bunch of naps throughout the day.

. . .

Two days after surgery I went back to the doc to get the bandages off. I had bulky bandages and the compression vest to judge by to that point, and I was dying to see! I laid on the exam table as he removed the bandages and pulled the tape away from my skin (not pleasant). I took a quick peek down and think I said out loud "Holy shit! Look at that!" I had NO TITS! My chest looked flat, with pecs. No breasts. What a trip! The doc laughed, checking his handiwork. He was pleased with the draining to that point and removed the drains. I had heard that this was very unpleasant so I braced myself, but it really didn't hurt much at all. Next he removed a few staples he used to close up my incisions, since he said my skin stubbornly didn't want to line up. Didn't seem to be any big deal, though the staples being removed felt kinda weird. Dr. Bubak said it looked like we had "A results" and that we'd now work on keeping the scar under control. He posed for pictures with me, seemed genuinely happy with his work and my happiness, and that was that.

So now I go back to the doc tomorrow to have the nipple covers removed. They are yellow spongy looking material, covered with clear tape to keep them dry. Can't see a thing underneath and am anxious just to have it all off, done - even though I've heard the nipples often look horrible at first, black and gross and all, just having them out from under wraps will be a relief. I want to be able to look down and see me, black and blue and scabby and swollen though I may be.

I haven't shaved since the Sunday before my surgery, 10 days now. I look in the mirror and see visibile stubble, a flat chest, and feel better about how I look than ever in my life. And that's while still wearing the compression vest under my SINGLE tshirt. It's a damn good feeling.

So that's it for now. Probably it's plenty, but I'm sure plenty more will follow...

August 18, 2000

It's now 23 days since my surgery. My nipple unveiling went very well - the doc removed the non-disolving stitches and was very pleased with how the grafts took. For two weeks I had to go around with bandaids covering the nipples to keep my shirt from messing with the scabs. Two weeks of additional adhesive and bacitracin lead to a nasty zit outbreak, which seems to be subsiding finally.

This week I went back to the doc for my three week follow up, and he cleared my nipples for normal duty. He also took off the white tape that had been covering my incisions, and gave me this brown paper tape to cover them with from now on. Since I'm prone to keloid scars, this is something I'll have to deal with for a while. The paper tape is supposed to keep the scars from becoming raised. I don't really like the idea of *still* having tape on my chest, but it's worth it for scar maintenance.

Ok, now let's talk about whether I'm happy with my results. Overall -- HELL YES. I look down and see pecs - not breasts, my clothes fit right, I don't have to bind, I can wear a single t-shirt outside, I can be shirtless in hot weather! As far as I'm concerned, if my chest looked like crap I'd still be happy. Now, that said, I feel like I should mention "imperfections" with my surgery, just because they exsist and I'm trying to be honest here about the whole process. I've still got some swelling, so it's too soon to say for sure, but it looks like I'm going to have "wings," those points of skin and scar that you see some guys have under their arms. The left side is looking more like a wing than the right, but the right seems slightly more swollen the left. Either way, I still have "tit-looking" spots under both arms that I'm not thrilled about. Dr. Bubak said to wait until the swelling goes down more before I get worried about it, and if they don't go away "we can always go back in and do a little more lipo." I'd really rather not have to deal with a revision, but I've resolved to wait a year and see how I feel about it then, if it is even something I need.

My nipples look great and I have full sensation in them already. My scars are nice and thin and symmetrical, and the contour of my chest looks really good. It's not totally flat, like just blending from shoulders into belly, but rather looks like somewhat muscular pecs. I will have a slew of pictures, from day one to day...whenever, posted as soon as I can. It may be another few weeks, though, so be patient.

August 31, 2000

Finally posted post-op pictures - check them out. I had other pictures, including close ups of my nipples as they healed, but the roll was accidentally exposed by a butthead who shall remain nameless. More pictures will follow as my chest heals more. I realize I haven't put too many new pictures up recently, since I've lost my regular access to a scanner, and I'm going to try to remedy that soon.

Recuperation wise, not much is new. I can finally sleep on my side, though rolling over occassionally results in some sudden pain. It's a relief to be able to roll around in bed again. Not yet able to sleep on my stomach -- it feels weird and hurts along the scarline. Soon that'll change though, I hope. Aside from that occassional twinge and the sleeping thing, I'm feeling no pain anymore and nearly no discomfort. And while I didn't realize it until looking at pictures, I guess the swelling is still going down, though I think my chest looks totally awesome already. Still have that under the armpit swelling and sticking out scar thing (which, next time I post pictures, I will show), but overall, my chest is a thing of beauty, a joy to behold!

Right now I'm at work, wearing just a long sleeve t-shirt (jeans too, of course, I'm not naked from the waist down...). I don't know if the thrill of wearing a simple t-shirt will EVER wear off. At this point I think it's the best thing ever, but I hope someday to not have to feel so excited about what kind of shirt I'm wearing. Anyway, here I sit, single shirted, free to stretch, able to twist around, lean all the way forward or back, with no fear of tits or a binder showing. It really is a big deal, a big, freeing, really cool deal!

October 6, 2000

I stand before you, head down, begging your forgiveness. I've been chastised, practically berated, by two people now for failing to update this journal in a timely manner. So to both of you I say "OK! Here it is! Are you happy??!?"

Now that that's out of the way...let's see. What's new. Well, I will be celebrating my one year on T anniversary at the end of this month. Looking back, it doesn't seem like it's been that long at all. And I have to admit that I thought I'd have more physical changes to show for a year's worth of testosterone. My first three doses were very low, though, so I've decided to consider my year anniversary on October 26 a more ceremonial event. Early December will be the time when I will look in the mirror and say "This is what I look like after a year on a full (or nearly full) dose of testosterone.

In the past several months, I've been growing more and more body hair, particularly on my chest, stomach, and upper arms. Just since my surgery, I've noticed the chest hair really coming on. In fact, I had a follow up with Doctor Bubak last week, and he was surprised at the extent of my chest hair growth just since July. About a month before my surgery I switched to doing my shots every 7 days (rather than every 10). This actually lowered my monthly dose, but keeps a more steady amount of T in my system. I don't know if that can incite chest hair to grow, but something sure has. If only it would incite my facial hair too! While I don't really stress out about it anymore, I'm still waiting for the decent beard/goatee/mustache/sideburns to come on in. I shouldn't complain, I suppose, because there actually is (comparatively) tons of hair growing along my sideburn area, down my jaw line, under my chin and creeping up my chin as well. But it just isn't growing in densely -- the individual hairs are dense, whisker-like hairs, but with 10 hairs every square inch (no, I didn't measure), they don't make for much of a beard.

A recent conversation on my listserv is on my mind at the moment. A few guys were talking about how when they transitioned it was assumed they'd give up their stereotypical "feminine" hobbies, like sewing or tending houseplants (they are the ones who called these things feminine, not me...). And they were resentful, saying that transmen are expected to be some Neanderthal version of man that isn't expected of non-trans men. I just keep thinking that ANY guy who sews is probably going to get some shit. Right or wrong, trans or not, that's how it goes.

For instance - take a non-trans guy who, for his 13th birthday, asks his folks for a sewing machine. Do you think his parents would be as open to it as they would if his sister asked? Do you think his friends would think "Hey, cool! Roger can sew us new basketball uniforms!" I'm not saying that it is fair or right or good, but I am saying that any man or boy in this situation, regardless of how they reached their male status, is going to have the same sort of experience. It's not an experience exclusive to FTMs.

October 12, 2000

Nora Vincent, the Advocate's resident asshole, has seen fit once again to waste her column space obsessing about the evil and dangerous transsexuals. A few months ago she wrote a column, published in the magazine that claims to be "the" magazine for the "queer" world, about how transsexuals are mutilating their bodies and falling for stereotypes and blah blah blah. Now, only a few months later, she's at it again. You can read her most recent whine-fest here . Below is my response to the Advocate (last time they actually published my letter back. I wonder if they'd do it again?)

To the Advocate,
Ahhh, how refreshing. Once again Nora Vincent wastes her column crying about the big, bad, and oh yes, VERY powerful transsexuals. We all know how much print space transsexuals get in the mainstream, how much political power and and how much respect transsexuals have. Good thing Nora Vincent keeps on task and ever vigilant, not letting a chance go by to inform the world about the "truly dangerous" transsexuals.

Ms. Vincent was of course right when she wrote about it being impossible to change your genetic sex (Last Word, October 10, 2000). But as a transsexual man, I can tell you that my intention in pursuing hormones and surgery was never to change one of my Xs into a Y. The purpose was to change my secondary sexual characteristics, so that I can look at myself and see Man and so that the world can look at me and see Man. Which I do, and which the world does. It may be assumed that I have a Y chromosome, but I've never made any claims in that regard. I suspect that most people don't go around telling others about their genetic make up either, so this is not unique to transsexuals. My genes are my business, not Nora Vincents.

The fact of the matter is that if Ms. Vincent bumped into me in a bar, she would see me simply as what I am -- a MAN. She would use the correct pronouns to refer to me without giving it a second thought. Despite what Ms. Vincent would have you believe, you don't need to be genetically male to be a man or to be referred to as "he."

Chromosomes have little to do with transsexuality and of course, Ms. Vincent is free to call anyone by whatever pronouns she would like. But unless she plans to do DNA tests on all the people she comes into contact with, she is going to have to face the fact that each person's genetic make-up is not the primary factor that is used, in day to day life, to determine whether somebody is a "he" or a "she." Ms. Vincent, like everyone else, sizes a person up in a process that is usually subconscious, and decides --man or woman, male or female-- based on characteristics much more tangible than chromosomes. If she feels unsettled because she feels she can't trust her own perceptions, that's unfortunate. But it really isn't the problem of the transsexuals of the world.

I don't begrudge Nora Vincent her opinion at all. I wonder why she is so obsessed with transsexuals, but I believe her her beliefs are valid. What really puzzles me, still, is why does the Advocate continue to make it's pages a place for her to do her obsessing? Nora's column basically declares "call yourselves whatever you want, you'll always be whatever *I* say you are." This is the same logic that until fairly recently had homosexuality listed in the DSM as a psychiatric disorder, which still is employed by a large number of people who believe all homosexuals are sinners and are going to hell, and which prevents gay marriage from being a legal reality. It's ironic that the same argument which holds you back is the one she uses again and again in the pages of your magazine.

And, to top it all off, it's really boring.

November 16, 2000

I've come to realize that with my transition well under way, I don't have as much to write/whine/obsess about here as I did when I started this site. In some ways, I feel like I am done transitioning. On the one hand, the transition from living as female to living as male is in fact done. On the other hand, my physical transition is far from over. Point is, unless I were to write about new hairs or my receding hairline all the time, that's not really a topic for contemplation for me. But, since I did get some newer digital pictures of my chest, I thought I'd upload them for you all to look at. So click here to see them.

I recently learned that the next big FTM conference (besides True Spirit) will be held in Seattle at the end of May, 2001. I'm hoping to volunteer to help somehow, and am psyched at the prospect of being able to attend one of these things. I haven't been so interested that I'd travel across the country for it, but driving down to the airport hotel? Sure, I could that.

So you all know by now that my beloved Mets lost to the Yankees in the World Series. What you might not know is that I also turned the big 3-0 that week. Yep, I'm no longer in my 20s. In theory this is a big deal, but since I don't feel different and still look like a kid, it doesn't bug me at all.

Also at the end of October I had my one year T anniversary. To be honest, I didn't even realize it until a few days later. For the sake of symbolism I probably should have marked the occasion somehow, but that's not really my thing. Thanksgiving will mark the last time I had my period, and I think that might be something that I'll celebrate (quietly, maybe by just mentally dedicating a beer to the passing of the period).

November 28, 2000

Well, I feel like I reached another milestone recently -- my second Thanksgiving with Kari's family. Despite traffic and forgetting to bring any leftovers home with us, it was a nice holiday. Her family knows my deal and they all seemed ok with it. Who knows what they really think? I know her mom has some issues, but she's nice enough to me and I don't blame her for her feelings. I felt completely comfortable and accepted amongst them, so that's what is important.

Here's something interesting: I feel a little weird about people who know I'm trans but don't know me very well seeing my chest. And it's not that I'm shy or not used to being naked from the waist up. It's more like I'm concerned about freaking *them* out. Here's the scene: Kari and I are in the hot tub at her folks house, and her sister comes out to chat. We never met before this weekend, so it's not like she knows me as anything other than the guy she sees before her. But she knows I had chest surgery this summer, knows the situaiton. So I wonder if to her, I'm this "used to have tits" person. If so, is it weird for her to see me in swim trunks only, sitting in the tub? I guess the question is really this: if I'm sort of framed in somebody's mind as a former female, then is my bare chest framed that way as well? Does this person feel the way they might if they walked out and a woman was sitting bare chested in the hot tub? I don't know the answer to that, but it's an interesting question.

And finally, here's a little update about the conference coming to Seattle in May. They've got a Web site up, which you can visit at www.ftm2001.org.index.html. I have officially volunteered to help out, and will be attending a meeting this weekend to learn more. I'm really looking forward to not only the conference, but a chance to work with other FTMs, get involved in the community, and frankly, to having something to work on in general.

December 20, 2000

DISCLAIMER: I am about to talk about a debate that I've been involved in on an email list to which I belong. The list is intended to be confidential, and to that end I am not naming the person involved. I'm also not reprinting anything he wrote, but simply using this forum to address my feelings about his moronic statements. If you are on the list, you know exactly who I am talking about because you read all this as it transpired. So no harm there, you read it already, and maybe even were involved in the debate.

My intention in writing this is two fold. One part is that I have been aggravated by it for a week and I wanted to get some of my thoughts off my chest. But the other is more selfless. It's because I think it's important for people who might come here looking to learn what transness is all about to see that not only do we have to fight against the stupid ideas of non-trans people, but we're often at war amongst ourselves too. Also, I think this is a great illustration of how transness doesn't guarantee that somebody is smart, or tolerant, or open minded.

That said:

Today I would like to talk about a big butthead guy on my list. A guy who thinks that any person without a penis is not a man. Now, that's not such an original idea. I'm sure there are plenty of other people who would say the same thing. What I find interesting is that this guy A) Doesn't have a penis, but a metoidioplasty (a surgery done to reposition and 'enhance' the hormonally assisted clit/dick, which, I'd like to state, I will probably have but which, no matter how much you like it, isn't a penis) and B) Thinks that by being able to afford said surgery, he is more a man than anyone who hasn't had it.

I'm about to go off on this guy, but just so you don't feel sorry for him for not being able to defend himself or his back-assward ideas, let it hereby be known that he and I have gone several rounds on this. Unfortunately, he's not much of a debate partner because he's not terribly intelligent and has repeatedly just ignored facts that he doesn't like. So, with no further ado, I'm going to talk about what's bugging me.

1. According to this guy, it is the rule of the planet that, in order to be considered a man, a person needs testicles and a penis. My thinking is, that's fine, if he wants to go through life asking to see everybody's genitals. It's certainly true that if you saw somebody naked and they had a penis, you'd assume they are a man, if you saw no penis, you'd assume they aren't. Then again, if you looked at the person and they appeared to be a man in every way BUT that, you'd probably think "that's a man with no penis." Since we don't live in a nudist society, these aren't the indicators we use in determining the sex of the person we're talking to. I've never seen my co-workers penis, for instance, but I have no doubt that he's a man. In addition, there are men in the world who have lost their penises due to accident, disease, and heck, even self mutilation. Are they suddenly women when this occurs?

Another issue that this guy won't address is that while his genitals may appear more man-like then prior to surgery, every cell in his body contains DNA. And in that DNA you will find XX chromosomes. So (and I'm not agreeing with this argument, merely pointing out that it could be used against him as he uses his genitals against those who haven't yet had surgery), according to the rule of the planet (those were his exact words, and I enjoy using them), he's a woman no matter what the state of his genitals. Those planetary rules sure are tough, huh? Good thing they aren't actually the rules that people use to function day to day.

2. Also according to our friend, guys who don't pursue lower surgery for various reasons are stuck and are not finished with their transition. He includes the lack of funds as an excuse to not 'finish' transition, and holds himself up as a shiny example of somebody who was able to sell his house in order to afford to become a man. Again, I allow him that. What I don't understand in this line of thinking, however, is if number one and number two are combined, they result in this: money=manhood. That is, because I am probably 20 years younger than he was when he transitioned, I have no home or assets to liquidate to finance my surgery, therefore I am not a man. If $25,000 (or so) were to fall in my lap tomorrow and I had surgery next week, I'd suddenly become a man?

3. The gist of the debate seems to me to be about this fella not feeling like a man without his precious 'penis.' That's fine for him, I'm glad he feels complete. It's pretty sad, though, that he's so insecure in his masculinity and manhood that he can't be a man without that surgery. His priority was surgery above all, to the point that he sold his house to finance it. My priority is to live a happy meaningful life. If I owned a home, maybe I'd sell it to finance surgery. But if I owned a home and had a wife and two kids, I probably wouldn't sacrifice my families stability for a dick. If you ask me, THAT'S more manly.

I guess I'm just lucky that my sense of myself is strong enough, that I'm secure enough, to not -NEED- that surgery to validate my manhood. I WANT bottom surgery, by all means, I certainly want it. In some sense I feel I need it, but not because it will earn me my "Man Diploma." I feel I need it so that my body looks complete to me, so that when I look down, what I see is what I've wanted to see my whole life. That would make me a HAPPY man. I've already achieved the 'man' part.

January 17, 2001

Sorry to bore you with this, but today I feel like talking about 'identity politics.' Recently I was told the following: "Queer is the label we pick when we don't want to be put in a little box with a little definition. Queer embraces all the others. Other genders, other sexualities. If it wasn't for queer, lgbt would have to add many more letters, like p for pansexual, or a for asexual, or a second g for genderfuckers."

First I'll focus on the 'little box with a little definition" thing. For most people who are not 'queer identified', there is no box. I don't feel trapped by any box or definition simply because my sexual interests are rather mainstream. I suppose if I were forcing myself to act like a heterosexual but had other proclivities, there would be some 'box' aspect to it, but since it's truly how I am, it's not constricting or 'little'. I understand how queer folks feel 'boxed' by heterosexuality prior to figuring out their nature and/or coming out -- I understand it well. But what the statement above shows is that 'queer' folks think their experience with sexuality prior to coming out is the same as that of most 'straight' folks. As if straight people are allowing themselves to be boxed and defined out of complacency or ignorance. I believe that the lens through which some 'queer' folks look at heterosexuality is the exact same one plenty of heterosexuals look at 'queer-ness' through -- the lens of "I could be one of them...I'll have to blather loudly about how I'm not, and list all that's wrong with them, to make sure everyone knows I'm not one of them (am I?)."

Think about it: How many people do you know who define themselves by their sexuality? And how many of *them* are in some way queer identified? I'd bet most, if not all. The people who condemn being boxed and defined by their sexuality are the very people who box and define themselves the most. They create more and more boxes to fit their narrower and narrower definitions, and peer out of the top of their box with an air of superiority and say "I won't allow you to define me." What they don't seem to recognize is that the only people who want to define them is THEM. Nobody else cares who they sleep with, what they consider themselves, how they 'identify.' It's not important to the bus driver that he knows who you fuck. If it's important to YOU that the bus driver know who you fuck, then that's your business. Don't blame it on the bus driver...

The fact is, in the 'queer' community, how you identify is important. It tells other queers that you are one of them, and what sort of things you might do with them. That's why a genderfucker cares that others know they're a genderfucker, and a pansexual makes sure everyone else in the community knows they're a pansexual. But in the world outside that community, it doesn't matter at all. It's like the Freemasons, a fraternal group with secret handshakes and rituals. Very important stuff while you are with "your people," but insignificant and meaningless in the general population.

Lots of transmen come from the queer community, either from their dyke days or because of their sexual interest in men. So the identity politics comes too. And men who don't 'identify' as anything are considered narrow minded if they're straight and hesitant to be grouped with every variety of genderfuckers. Or, for instance, when somebody says a certain generalization doesn't apply to them (such as when we're called 'trannies' or 'bois'), we're condemned for not allowing for difference in the community. It's ludicrous -- the diversity card is played so often as a way to shut out somebody who thinks differently. I am not a tranny, nor am I a boi, and when referred to as such I think I have as much right to say "Uhh, excuse me..." as a genderfucker has a right to take issue with any statement he feels slighted by. And I feel there's as much of a place for guys like me, who aren't queer, genderfuckers, trannies, or bois, as there is for somebody who identifies as a dykebutchfagdaddyboi. It may be hipper and cooler and queerer to sport a multi-syllabic 'identity,' but that's not what the whole thing is about. For me, anyway.

February 11, 2001

Nothing much new going on, but I thought I should update here. Did you notice the new picture on the main page? Unfortunately the quality of the scan didn't come out so well, but I thought it was high time to have a picture of what I look like today (which is quite different than I looked a year ago) on the main part of my home.

So. I had my revision a few weeks ago, January 18 I believe. If you look at my chest surgery pictures you'll see one picture of my 'wings,' the pointy tags under my armpits. I had those fixed, and I'm really very happy with the results. The procedure was done under a local anesthetic, which was freakier in theory than it was in practice. The only painful part was getting the injections of novacain -- Doctor Bubak poked that needle in and moved it all around, making sure to numb up the entire area. Man, did that needle prodding hurt, but it didn't last long and when it was over, I couldn't feel a thing. After a few minutes of being pretty weirded out by the whole thing, I was able to relax and chat with the doc while he worked.

What he actually did I can only guess. I know he extended my incisions about three quarters of an inch toward my back, on each side. I think he cut out some extra tissue that was behind the end of my old incisions, keeping them from laying flat. Whatever he did required about 10 or 12 stitches on each side. A week later the stitches were removed and a week after that I removed the adhesive tape that was keeping the new incision together.

I started working out recently, and when I flex in front of the mirror now, I have a nice clean line below my armpits to my waist. Yes, I'm vain enough to pose in front of the mirror. I mean, I'm not only thrilled with my chest, but with the muscles I see developing. What an incredibly great feeling to look in the mirror and feel GOOD about what I see! That's still a real kick and I don't know if any amount of time will take that away. I don't know if anybody who hasn't outright hated their mirror reflection could ever understand what a feeling it is. Because of that history, I guess, I not only don't apologize for posing in front of the mirror, admiring the ways my body is changing (even if those ways are so miniscule I'm the only one who would ever notice), but I truly enjoy it.

I forgot to update my main page back when I added the January 17th journal entry, so if you usually look at that you might have missed my post above. Maybe that isn't such a bad thing...

March 20, 2001

Once again, a recent discussion on one of my email lists has gotten me thinking. The issue comes up often: a new guy, who proclaims himself to be above the social constructs us saps call gender, comes along and either intentionally or not, insults a lot of people. Now, I fully believe that the insults are NOT intentional, but when somebody starts ragging on straight guys (I don't see how our sexuality has anything to do with it, but it seems if you don't call yourself queer, you're suspect) who made his transition harder because lesbians are afraid of what they don't understand (or something...), I and many other take exception.

But I'm not going to bore you with that today. What I want to talk about is how different it is to be that kind of man. See, when these kinds of debates get going, it's only a matter of time before one of the gender blenders (I use this term to include all sorts of 'identities' that may include, but are not limited to: trannyboi, tranny, boi, FTM, male identified female bodied, dyke identified, third gender, other gendered, poly gendered....) decides that the men he's debating with think they're 'better' than him because they're older or have been on T longer. And while I'd never say anything about being 'better', I think it is not a coincidence that guys who have been on T for a while tend to think differently than the gender benders.

I'm not saying that taking T is the difference here. The difference is experiencing first hand and for real what it means to live your life as a man. I don't mean to imply that everyone who lives their life as a man feels any one way or another. Simply that going from one state of being to another can change a person's perspective. And it just so happens that the guys who have actually GONE from one state to the other, the guys who KNOW how different the two are -- those are guys who have usually been on T longer. Because the longer you are ON T, the more likely it is and the easier it is for you to be living as a man. But the whole T thing is irrelevant to the discussion, except for how it relates to the accusations that get flung.

Now, I am entirely the same person as I was before I transitioned. I don't think T has changed my personality or my moods. So what's different? The fact that now I -KNOW- what it means to be a man in society, whereas before I knew what it meant to be a man in a female's body. I knew what it meant to be a "is that a boy or a girl mommy" in society. Worrying about passing, each sir being a gift, each ma'am a punch in the face, binding, being called a female name, strangers and friends using female pronouns to refer to you or worse, strangers calling you sir and your friends correcting them, saying "She's a girl!", worrying about getting kicked out of the women's room or punched out in the men's... These are the experiences of FTMs -- of female bodied people becoming men.

As your transition progresses, almost before you realize it, these things become non-issues. And your interactions with the world change, because you are freed from the worries and concerns you used to deal with. Looking in the mirror and finally seeing a MAN looking back, rather than a woman who looks like a man, is a terrifically wonderful moment. You go from becoming a man to BEING a man. And I say that the difference between the two is undeniable.

In any other area of life, the difference between feeling like something, wanting to be something, working to become something, and actually BEING that something, is acknowledged and accepted. Heck, people in the 'on the way there' stage usually respect the ones who are 'there' already. Why this isn't the case here is puzzling to me. I don't know if it's resentment, jealousy, or something else entirely.

What I do know is that the year and a half since I transitioned seems like a million years sometimes, and hardly any time at all others. I remember corresponding with guys years ahead of me in their transitions, men who were DONE transitioning, and getting from them hope, advice, and the realization that this was actually POSSIBLE. I needed that. And I respected the men who came before me. But where I differ from the gender benders, I suppose, is that I transitioned to become a man.

April 19, 2001

What is there to write about today? Well, I've been unemployed for the past two weeks. Another victim of a dot-bomb. I moved to Seattle exactly a year ago, and spent all of April and much of May unemployed then. Now, a year later, I'm right back where I started. Kinda sad, really. At least this time I can suckle from the government's teat and get unemployment $$.

Not much else is new really. I've decided not to shave until I *have* to (like if I get a job interview). What better time than during total slacker-hood to let the facial hair grow out and really see what's what? I started my "Let It Grow" experiment last Tuesday, because I had my little goatee and also some sideburns growing in, and I wanted my whole face to start at the same level. I had that little goatee for a few months, and shaving it off was kind of funny. I look a few years younger without it.

I really don't have much to say today. Sorry.

April 30, 2001

Not really anything to write about today. Just wanted to tell you journal readers that I've got some new pictures FINALLY. It's amazing how much T and time change your appearance. For the past few months I've felt weird about the pictures that are on this site, because good or bad, I really don't look much like them anymore. So I finally got some new ones. Check the Chest Surgery page for some updated stuff there, and the Picture page for some other new stuff.

May 9, 2001

Am I the only one who's noticed that often minorities try to make themselves feel good about their difference by claiming that members of said minority are statistically smarter, stronger, more creative, more this, less that? What is the deal with that?

I've heard it said (written) that transsexuals are statistically smarter than average. I wonder who's done this study and where I can get my hands on a copy. I'm on mailing lists with 350 transmen, and I'll tell you, there is a staggering amount of not-so-intelligent folks on them. Maybe horrible spelling, terrible grammar, and all-around bad writing isn't a sign of ignorance, but plain old stupidity is. For instance -- WHY oh WHY would shaving make hair grow faster? Nobody has EVER offered a good explanation for this old wives tale; there's NO evidence that it is true. Yet people believe it because they want to believe it. In my book, that's not a sign of intelligence.

I've also read enough "Why it's good to be a transsexual" type of essays to be disgusted by that whole argument too. Not only are we smarter, but we're more couragous, stronger, braver, etc. Pardon me, but BULLSHIT! I have never felt that being trans makes me any braver or stronger than anyone else. To believe that, I'd have to believe that MY problems are worse than anyone else's, that my challenges are harder to deal with than other people's. I felt I *HAD* to transition. Sure, it wasn't easy at first, telling people, changing documents, even having surgery. But is somebody who gets his wisdom teeth out more courageous than me because I've got mine? My wisdom teeth don't cause me problems, so I've kept them. If yours hurt, you get them removed. Are you a brave brave soul because of that? I guess it depends on who you ask. I acknowledge wisdom teeth and transitioning aren't all that similar, but the essence is the same: If you have a painful problem, you treat it. Where's the bravery in that?

I guess for some people, maybe those who have a lot invested in their trans status, it IS something to be proud of. Maybe they feel that they need something to make them special. Something that they can point to and say "I'm X, Y, and Z because I'm trans." Frankly, if I'm smarter or more creative or more ANYTHING than anybody else, I'd like to think it's because *I* had something to do with it, that it's not caused by some birth defect or accident of hormones. But that's just me.

June 17, 2001

Last week I had my final follow up visit with Dr. Bubak, the surgeon who did my chest last year. He's such a nice guy, it's almost too bad I won't be seeing him anymore. Got the AFTER pictures to accompany the BEFORE ones he took what seems like a million years ago, and of course he was suitably impressed with my weight loss and muscle gain. I'm sure he'll be telling all his future patients about this (he likes to share stories, always in a respectful manner) so I'll share it with you all: When I went back to his office to have the bandages removed days after surgery, the first thing I did was strike a body building posture. Not that I ever was a body builder, but you know how it is... I wanted to see my shoulders, my pecs, my biceps in that classic pose without breasts in the way. Anyway, when I stood up for him to take the pics, he brought up that pose I struck last year, so I hit it again for him and he seemed just really pleased that I was so happy with how everything turned out. He's a good guy.

The big FTM conference was held a few weeks ago here in Seattle. It actually helped me out a lot, though not really in the way it was intended, I'm guessing. For me, the whole event really brought home the fact that the 'FTM community' is just not where I belong. For a long time I thought the 'community' was a figment of other people's imaginations. Now I recognize that it exsists, but just being a transman doesn't necessarily make me a part of that community.

It struck me after the conference that one of the reasons I am always so quick to point out "But we're not all like that... " is out of some fear of 'guys like me' not being represented. Now I realize -- heck. So what? It's not my bag to begin with, and probably not the bag of other 'guys like me'. So who cares if we're warmly embraced or not? I'm sounding jaded when I write this, but really I mean it in a really good way. I realized that what the community does or thinks or embraces has nothing to do with me. MY community is the people I live near and work with, the clerks and bartenders and baristas I see regularly and interact with in real life. Essentially what I realized was that for ME (I capitalize that to indicate that I stress this is just for ME), community is about something different, and being trans doesn't come with a set of requirements or obligations that say I must be part of that community.

There were certain other frustrations at the conference, a lot of lesbian-identified people talking about the mourning, the grief, the loss they experience when a 'butch woman' transitions. I left the conference feeling like the lesbians aren't ever going to 'get' FTMs if they don't realize how unhealthy this is. My buddy Johann put it best when he compared this complaint to somebody wishing their recovered alcoholic friend would start drinking again, because they were more fun to hang out with. Nobody wants to be loved, needed, or desired becuase of things in them that they hate, so when those things are gone, to think of somebody mourning them... it bugs me.

Anyway, it's a bit late to critique the conference at this point. Let's just say that the queer-leanings throughout were obvious and annoying, but the whole thing was actually pretty good. Any time you come away from something feeling like you've learned about yourself or anybody else, it's worthwhile. And on top of that, it was just really cool to see so many transmen, FTMs, and 'others' (for lack of a better word) in one place.

July 16, 2001

Well, it's high time I update here, yet I don't have much to say. I'm still unemployed, and am starting to get sick of not working. I never thought I'd say that, but it's true. I sure don't mind sleeping late every day, but this free time thing is starting to get old. I feel like I'm in a big holding pattern. Oh well, at least it's summer, I can do whatever I want, and the dogs like me around all the time. You'd think I'd at least have a tan.

I kind of feel bad about this, but I find myself lately getting sick of the 'support' lists that I'm on. For one thing, it seems like ultra-leftie liberism to the point of extremism is the ONLY point of view that is acceptable. Now, I'm a pretty liberal person, but I also believe in personal accountability, in taking responsibility for ones actions. It seems like it's okay to find something or someone else to blame EVERYTHING on, and I'm so sick of that. "I was abused as a child. It's racism, it's misogyny, it's classism." It's like, have a problem? Find yourself a nice 'ism' to blame it on and you're in the clear. You don't even have to FIX the problem, as long as you can hang the blame on somebody else. And, best of all, you get to be a big sorry victim, which not only means you aren't responsible for your actions, but you deserve sympahty and respect!

This isn't just a trans-phenomenon, I know that. But when I hear about people doing bad things and blaming their parents, their alcohol problem, their childhood traumas, I get annoyed. The way I see it, if all the bad things in me are there because of past events, then mustn't the good things be caused by something too? I prefer to take credit for what's good about me, and in doing so I feel like I have to take responsibility for what's bad about me too. So I'm an opinionated ass who sometimes doesn't know when to leave well enough alone. Rather than saying "That's because my parents..." I say, yeah, that's me. I can accept that. I can also accept that I'm smart, funny, and fair-minded, but I don't want those things to be because my parents... So I own ALL of it -- the opinionated ass with a big mouth and the smart, funny, fair-minded guy. They're all ME, as in, this person here. Not the kid who was abused or the teenager who had a drug problem. Me, the person I am today, is my responsibility. At some point in a person's life, they have to accept that who they are is all they've got. The past is the past. Learn from it, even let it shape you. But at the very least, OWN it. And move on.

August 8, 2001

Once again, updating without much to say. I'm sure if I sit here looking at the keyboard long enough, though, something will come to me.

I'm losing my hair -- how's THAT for something to talk about. It started with the hair creeping back at my temples, which I didn't mind so much. Now the hair on the top of my head is getting thinner. So thin, in fact, that you can see scalp through my hair. I used to have thick, curly hair, and now... well... I don't. What's funny is that I have no intention of trying to stop this hair loss. For as much as I don't really like the idea of balding and ending up looking like my father, I recognize that some men go bald. It's not the end of the world. Talk to me in a year, however, and maybe I'll be doing the Rogaine thing. Anything's possible.

I know I've talked about my weight loss here before, but I gotta say -- it's been awesome. I had to go get a new picture taken for my driver's license, becuase I look SO different than I did a year ago when the pic was taken. It's not just that I lost 55 pounds, either. Testosterone really does change the way your face looks, not just because of hair growth, but the whole shape of my face seems different. And I'm the first to admit that that's a GOOD thing (at least in my case). I got some new pictures yesterday, so be on the lookout for them to appear on my picture page within the next few days.

Ok, one last cool thing: I went to a friend's wedding this weekend, and had my first opportunity to stand amongst the single men for the garter-toss. Not a huge thing, not important or remotely consequential in the grand scheme of things. But still -- it was kinda cool.

August 27, 2001

So I finally got a job, one that's a far cry from my past employment as a desk jockey. I've started working in a bakery, learning how to make and bake cookies, muffins, scones, and bread. It's fun, it's new, and it starts FUCKING EARLY in the morning. And it pays very very poorly. I'm interested in going to culinary school, and thought I'd like to be a baker. But the pay is so bad that I don't know if this is a very realistic goal. At least I'm working again.

I don't really have much else to say here today. I did want to mention that I've got some new pictures up on my picture page, which you can click here to get to. I'm thinking I need to redo the whole picture page thing, because I just discovered that some of the links don't work. But even though I hate some of the pictures there, I'm not going to take them down, because I think they do a good job of showing how different I look through the course of my transition. It's interesting to me, and I'm guessing it might be to other people too.

So there you have it. That's all I've got to say.

October 8, 2001

Things are moving along just swimmingly. Last month I had my annual check-up, and learned that I'm just as healthy as can be. T level was a smidge on the high side, but within the lab's normal range and all my other numbers and levels and things were perfect. It's good to hear, on a personal level, but also on a larger scale. Some guys DO have health problems that relate directly or indirectly to hormone therapy and transitioning, but not everyone does. Some, myself included, actually get healthier. Of course, this is due in large part to losing a whole mess of weight. But in many ways, I attribute that weight loss to my transition too. Becuase of my new interest in my body I was able to do what it took to get healthy. And man, if there was a way to express how AWESOME I think I look without sounding like a big-headed, arrogant ass, I would.

Anyway, my doc is not a trans specialist, just a regular GP. He's very cool, straightforward, and I like him a lot. As we were finishing up my appointment, he said "Well, I feel really weird every having to ask you this, but... Should we do a pelvic exam?" Even though I knew better, I kinda hemmed and hawed, and said, nahhhh. And he, seeing right through me, said 'Yeah.' So we did.

Now you know, if I had gone into that office knowing I was going to have a pelvic, I would have been stressed out. But as it was -- it wasn't as bad as I thought. The doc knows me as only a man, he approached the exam as just an exam on a body part, and so I was able to do the same thing. I didn't LIKE it, not by any stretch of the imagination, but looking at the ceiling and thinking "Just getting my parts checked, just getting my parts checked..." without attributing gender to those parts, made it do-able. In case that sounds like denial or something, I don't think it is. I mean, if my liver was being checked, it wouldn't be a man's liver or a woman's liver. It's just a liver. So yeah, the part that gets checked during a pelvic exam is part of the female anatomy. But it's on me, so it's not a woman's part. Hmm. Reading that back I can see how it still might sound like some creative form of denial. Oh well.

I'm putting together a new page, showing my driver's license pictures through transition. I think the way they show my transition through a bureaucratic lens is kind of cool. I do very much despise some of the pictures that will be on that page, but hey... I'm trying to be honest here. So check on my picture page for that and for other new pics that might turn up.

December 7, 2001

Geez, I've really been slacking on keeping this journal up. As I think I said before, the more time that passes, the less I feel like I have to say about transitioning and trans related stuff. But I'll try...

I've passed my two year mark on T. I have to say that while I'm THRILLED with the changes and how I look, I really expected to be hairier than I am. I'm not one of those guys who puts all his hopes and dreams into being the hairiest dude on the block, nor do I think it is any kind of statement about my manhood that my chest isn't hairy. Honestly, I just thought that with my genes, I'd be hairier than I am. I still see new hairs popping up all the time, on my face and chest and arms and back, on my ass and legs and... well. You get the picture. I just figure my body is going to do what it is going to do and it doesn't all happen in days/weeks/months. Sometimes it takes years.

Speaking of pictures, on the chest surgery picture page I've added two new pics of my chest. If they look like crap, sorry -- they look good on my computer but then when I upload them to geocities, they get all blurry and bit-mappy. Maybe it's just my internet connection.

I've been thinking a lot about more surgery lately. Problem is money, of course. While I'd really like some kind of 'cosmetic' bottom surgery, I think my next priority is a hysto. I hate to think of spending money on that when I really should be saving for a metoidio or phallo (still not sure which would be best for me), but I REALLY want to get rid of those innards. I didn't used to -- I used to just figure that as long as they weren't working, they didn't matter to me. But now... I don't know. I don't like knowing they're there and I don't want them to start causing me trouble like they do for so many guys. I've been really lucky, in that I've had NO health problems related to hormone therapy and I don't want to start now. The thing is, with no actual physical problems with my ovaries/uterus, I won't be able to get insurance to pay for their removal. So it's a crappy situation -- wait for them to cause problems and hope insurance might pay, or blow a big wad of cash on getting rid of them before the trouble starts.

Other than that, I don't spend much time thinking about the whole trans thing very much. I really want to keep this site up, and I get requests all the time from people who want to know what's going on now. But what's going on is so boring and regular and NON-trans, that I feel like it's almost a waste of time. I bake bread, I play Playstation, I still mourn the Mariner's tragic season-ending collapse (though applaud the Diamondbacks!). That's it in a nutshell.

January 19, 2002

I just re-read almost a year's worth of entries in this journal, and man it's a trip to see how far I've come. Then I realized that I started this web site almost three years ago, and... well... wow. I remember trying to imagine where I'd be in a year, or two, or three, and now I'm there. And now, I can sit here and wonder where I'll be in a year or two or three... And eventually I'll be *there*, looking back again. It's kind of comforting to think about it in those terms. No matter how far off something seems, you get there eventually.

I'm an uncle -- my brother and his wife had their first kid in December. A few weeks ago, I went down to Portland to see them, and it was the first real time that my brother and I spent together in years. We don't have a lot in common, but it really wasn't so bad. At one point he refered to me as his sister, then quickly corrected himself. What's interesting is that it didn't offend or upset me. It was a mistake, he realized it and apologized, we moved on. It was the first time in a really long time, though, that anyone had called me anything remotely female.

I think the reason it didn't bug me much was that I have really stopped thinking of myself in terms of 'used to be female.' If I was still all wrapped up in that, I think I'd be more likely to be upset at being reminded of it by somebody else. Instead, my reaction was like, oh, huh. Isn't that odd. He called me his sister... I'm not hyper-sensitive about it because it's like a non-issue at this point. I wish I could explain that to so many of the guys I know of who struggle with family or friends using the wrong pronouns. I guess I just bthis moment realized that when YOU don't think of yourself as remotely female, you can't be hurt by those mistakes.