phone booths
So I've got more substantive posts in the works right now, but it occurred to me, having spent the last hour doubled over with cramps, nausea, and violent gastric distress:
I see a lot of arguments about trans people that seem to think sex changes and gender transition are speedy, capricious, or impulsive decisions. That there is quick or easy switching back and forth, or nothing lost in the change.
And as I'm sitting here arguing much more esoteric and abstract stuff all day about rights and space and roles, I'm suddenly reminded that most people, even allies, have no idea of the basic, physical realities that affect us.
Physically, I'm fairly early in the transition, even though socially and emotionally I'm way past the point of no return. So I thought: would it be interesting or helpful to those of you reading for me to catalogue some of those basic things?
Because nobody really told them to me when I wasn't experiencing them yet myself, even though I expected it to be hard; here on this bodiless Internet we're always talking about the big-picture, societal, identity-and-rights stuff, and it occurs to me that I had to do a lot of digging, once upon a time, for the nuts and bolts--including the unpleasant, vulgar nuts-and-bolts. And maybe that's why all these arguments about bathrooms don't connect--because one person is talking about who has what abstract claim on what space, and another person is going, look, I really have to go.
The other stuff is important, maybe more important, but somehow I think the point doesn't get across, sometimes. As I said to my partner not long ago: it's funny, knowing the statistics of sexual assault and violence directed at the demographic I'm entering, considering what I know about my basically taking a massive pay cut for every other job I'm ever going to have and practically waiving insurance, knowing about my future health risks and social attitudes, knowing the price I'll have to pay in travel I can't do, places I can't go and be safe, people I'd like to know who'll assume they don't want to know me, knowing I'll be dependent on medical technology and its attendant costs for the rest of my life, knowing all the theory there is on the subject, that what brings it home is, well,
the nausea. the aches. the nosebleeds. the cramps. the inability to eat some of my favorite foods, or drink like I used to only a few months ago. the ebbing strength and increasing fatigue. the bumping my breast with my elbow while I'm brushing my teeth and feeling like someone has jabbed a knitting needle into my chest.
The little, real, blood-and-bones things a person who's never met one of us--or someone who has, but not intimately enough to be told--wouldn't know about, and wouldn't know to account for in their ideas about who we are and what our lives are like.
Would folk want to hear more about these things, or is this enough?
I see a lot of arguments about trans people that seem to think sex changes and gender transition are speedy, capricious, or impulsive decisions. That there is quick or easy switching back and forth, or nothing lost in the change.
And as I'm sitting here arguing much more esoteric and abstract stuff all day about rights and space and roles, I'm suddenly reminded that most people, even allies, have no idea of the basic, physical realities that affect us.
Physically, I'm fairly early in the transition, even though socially and emotionally I'm way past the point of no return. So I thought: would it be interesting or helpful to those of you reading for me to catalogue some of those basic things?
Because nobody really told them to me when I wasn't experiencing them yet myself, even though I expected it to be hard; here on this bodiless Internet we're always talking about the big-picture, societal, identity-and-rights stuff, and it occurs to me that I had to do a lot of digging, once upon a time, for the nuts and bolts--including the unpleasant, vulgar nuts-and-bolts. And maybe that's why all these arguments about bathrooms don't connect--because one person is talking about who has what abstract claim on what space, and another person is going, look, I really have to go.
The other stuff is important, maybe more important, but somehow I think the point doesn't get across, sometimes. As I said to my partner not long ago: it's funny, knowing the statistics of sexual assault and violence directed at the demographic I'm entering, considering what I know about my basically taking a massive pay cut for every other job I'm ever going to have and practically waiving insurance, knowing about my future health risks and social attitudes, knowing the price I'll have to pay in travel I can't do, places I can't go and be safe, people I'd like to know who'll assume they don't want to know me, knowing I'll be dependent on medical technology and its attendant costs for the rest of my life, knowing all the theory there is on the subject, that what brings it home is, well,
the nausea. the aches. the nosebleeds. the cramps. the inability to eat some of my favorite foods, or drink like I used to only a few months ago. the ebbing strength and increasing fatigue. the bumping my breast with my elbow while I'm brushing my teeth and feeling like someone has jabbed a knitting needle into my chest.
The little, real, blood-and-bones things a person who's never met one of us--or someone who has, but not intimately enough to be told--wouldn't know about, and wouldn't know to account for in their ideas about who we are and what our lives are like.
Would folk want to hear more about these things, or is this enough?
Labels: building blocks, metablogging, monstrous, phone booths, trans
posted by little light | 1:41 AM
23 Comments:
Hey,
I started reading your blog after all the really smart comments you made recently on brownfemipower's blog and feministing. I'm also trans so I'm probably not the intended audience for the question you ask at the end there... but would it be out of place here to ask about your nausea and nosebleeds, which sound from your description as if maybe they're related to transition somehow? That sounds really worrisome, especially if you don't have access to health insurance. However, I totally understand if you didn't intend for this post (or your blog) to become a "trans people strategizing about transition stuff" discussion. There's a lot of that out there on the internet already, and a lot of it really unsavory.
No, it makes sense. I've been meaning to drop you a line, Holly, having seen you in all these discussions myself--anyway, I don't know any other multiracial, part-Asian-American transwomen in blogsville, so clearly I want to be your brain-friend, right?
Sorry, I'm in an odd, goofy sort of mood.
Anyhow, the nausea is one of the side effects I'm getting from hormonal transition, yes. My doctor knows about it, and I've been told it's a pretty normal side effect, along with the digestion problems and cramps--they're mostly more concerned about blood clots than anything. I don't know how bad it is, relatively, because I've enjoyed pretty good health most of my life and that makes me sort of a baby about physical problems.
I'm keeping an eye on it, anyhow. I was told it'll clear up after a while, and if it doesn't, they'll lower my dose or something--it was recently doubled.
As to the nosebleeds, I used to be prone to them, like, daily, growing up. Then I moved somewhere with much higher humidity and lower altitude, and they stopped, for a matter of years. Since going on the Pill they're started again, but it also coincides with working outdoors in cold weather, so again, it's hard to diagnose. The doctor also said this all might be related to massive emotional stress, so.
Thanks for the concern, anyhow. I'm keeping an eye on things. I...don't have a lot of other people going through the process to consult with, and mostly I've been trusting the doc that I'm not going to die. If anyone finds it interesting, I'll probably run a log or something of the more consistent stuff, here.
Aww, I'd be happy to be your brain-friend! There are some other multiracial part-Asian-American transwomen floating around the internet, even some with progressive/radical politics who are interested in feminist thought, etc. The only other one I can think of at the moment has mostly just been posting in her livejournal lately about her punk band, or videos of korean pop stars lately. Which I also heartily endorse.
That makes a lot of sense re: nausea and other physical upsets if you just doubled your dose. Like a lot of medications, hormones can cause a pretty unbalancing period of weirdness following significant dosage changes, for months sometimes until things level out. If you haven't been on other medications that have similar effects (say, anti-depressants, which are probably the other major type that many people are familiar with) then yeah, it totally takes getting used to. Along with the whole "oh crap, I'm dependent on the pharmaceutical industry and everythinge else that entails." Welcome to the club along with a lot of other people including diabetics, people with mental health issues who take medication, all the people with thyroid disorders, heart problems, etc etc. Oh it's a medicalized world.
I don't want to flip around your really useful discussion of the daily-life aches and bullshit that trans people deal with, which I think is incredibly valuable for non-trans allies and bloggers to read about. I do want to say one thing though, which is that I also feel like there's a sort of conspiracy, especially on the internet, to scare trans people into believing that being trans is this awful nightmare that will fundamentally wreck huge sections of your life.
While it is undeniably true that there is a huge degree of personal, and more importantly, institutional transphobia out there that devastates and kills many trans people, it doesn't affect everyone the same and the "nightmare scenarios" are often presented as scare tactics for any number of sketchy reasons, I think. Especially if you have some measure of fortune and/or privilege (like having health care, whoo! so many people don't, which sucks a lot if you're trans) then there are a lot of things to be grateful for too. I don't mean this to sound chiding at all, just more like... don't necessarily believe all the scary stories that some people put out there to try and scare you! Fearmongering can also be a form of transphobia too, sometimes internalized.
No, you're right. Hell yes.
When I got my prescription, it came with a fifteen-minute lecture on all the Horrible Health Complications I'd get and how I could expect to Never Have Sex Again and Possibly Die, Like, Tomorrow. And then I was left alone in a cold exam room for a good twenty minutes with a sheet that had nothing on it but potential--many really, really rare--ways I could die, have a psychotic break, and so on.
There's a lot of that. My parents read this kind of thing and utterly panic. You're right that there needs to be balance to it.
I think some of us get so tired of arguing the validity of our choices that it feels necessary to shake people and say goddamnit this isn't easy and look would I just be playing with this considering these are the consequences? and so on. We forget, in an effort to convince people this isn't just a sexual fetish or a weird high or a lark, to remind them that there are good things, there are benefits, even if it's not the ones we're accused of enjoying.
I wouldn't put up with all this bullshit if this process weren't making me a happier, wholer, realer, more fulfilled person than I ever was before, for instance. I have a whole different smile that only appeared once I came out.
As to healthcare, I get mine through a nonprofit clinic that treats people who don't have shit for health coverage. I finally have health insurance through work, but it only covers emergencies and some dental, and classes GID as a paraphilia--and therefore refuses to cover any treatments related to gender identity. So I effectively don't have coverage, and I'm very lucky to have the clinic where I go.
little light - as horrid as this whole discussion has been, I am nonetheless glad that out of it has come the opportunity to make friends with some very cool new people - i.e. you, and holly.
That sounds so dumb. and cold comfort, I'm sure. cold like the dark side of Pluto cold.
but I'm so glad you commented on my blog, and others. thanks so much. and please take care of you.
It's not cold comfort, antiprincess--it's real comfort and, often, the only comfort we've got.
As I said at Nexy's place, this mess--for all that it cut deep and brutal to read what set it off--drew momentary bright lines between the folk who've got our backs and the folk who would rather let us hang.
I've been brought to so many new people, wonderful people, and had some excellent conversations out of it.
This mess has made us tighter, and stronger, and braver. It's taught us more about who our friends are. It's given us new connections and alliances--I know my own blog was fairly isolated before, except for the couple of times it's been in carnivals, and even though I was a regular commenter at a couple bigger places like Feministe and Pandagon and BFP's.
Thank you, too. Come by any time. I know I'll be by your place.
"Would folk want to hear more about these things, or is this enough?"
i believe sharing information is always a good thing.
Yes, I think information is helpful. Part of being privileged means not having to take things into account. So I could understand some problems, without ever having to think about anything else.
I mean, a small part of what you described (a very small part, I'm not trying to compare experience) reminded me of when I went on the pill when I was 18, and how scared I was as I read about blood clots. Imagining that fear in the context of what you're going through is mind-boggling.
Spotted Elephant, I'm struck almost daily with the parallels between my situation and that of folk on various medications like antidepressants--as it was said elsewhere, welcome to the ranks of people dependent on medical technology and establishments, I guess.
I had the privileged illusion, for a number of years, of independence; as it is, it ain't so.
The funny thing is how many things I'm going through right now are familiar to other women I know, and how it's like a dunk in cold water, though one I expected: a many-times-a-day forced privilege check, reminding me of some of the simplicities of my life before, and a constant question as to which prices I'm willing to pay for my happiness when.
New year, new life, new hopes and new aspirations.
New thoughts.
I'm about to toss myhat into this whole "blogosphere" myself. Not certain where I'll fit into the categorization of things, but I think that the little things aren't spoken about enough.
There's a whole train of thought that says "don't sweat the little stuff -- and its all little stuff" that has a lot of wonderfully simplifying aspects to it, but, ultimately, when it comes to increasing understanding and, for lack of a better term, edifying others who might profess transphobic or uninformed views, the little stuff is all that matters.
Life is composed of little stuff. Our childhood is spent learning not just where we are supposed to fall into place int he world, but a gazillions of little stuffs.
Tying our shoes, brushing our hair, buttoning and zipping and velcroing, brushing out teeth and blowing our nose or covering our mouths, saying please and thank you and yes, sir, right away, sir, and no I don't use drugs but hey, have ya got any I can sell?
err, um, ok, maybe not the last bit.
Its those little intimacies that are focused on in puff pieces, those day to day sadnesses and nightmares, those peculiar and startling worries and concerns and considerations that go into someone's daily life that count to others and make them understand that they ar more than just another "thing", they are another human being.
So, yeah. Share more :)
I intend to, come the new year.
regarding the sharing of the medical consequences of transition, i'd like to share one of my own. the therapist who saw me through transition had about 60 m2f patients. about 5 or 6 suffered (or continue to suffer) from an unexplained significant increase in their white blood cell count. i am one of them.
mine, like a few of the others, was more than double the high end of the "normal" range. so high, and lasting so long, that my gp recommended i go to a hematologist for tests.
she tested me for leukemia. you know, when they stick a bic pen into your hip bone and extract bone marrow.
it came back negative. i don't have an infection, or an obvious one. there are no known causes for my symptom. and still today, i hover around the upper end of the "normal" zone, sometimes above, and almost never within the normal range. it remains a mystery.
I still want to hear about your body changes. Sure, I'd probably hear them anyway, but don't be all modest. It's interesting to see what parallels puberty as I remember it.
(And I totally want to take you bra shopping as the changes require.)
Here via belledame's and hoping I can sign on to wanting to know more, if and only if you feel like writing it. of course.
Hi. Just found you, most directly, through Queer Dewd/BL. Very glad to have found your blog, am busily reading back entries, but yes, please, share what you feel comfortable to share. I'm excited to add you to my regular reads.
So it looks like there's definitely interest. (That's neat!)
I admit it will be sort of an anxious adventure, posting some of this stuff, but I think it's worth doing.
Are there any particular things people would be interested in my keeping track of? Semiregular updates on basic physical experiences?
I vote for stuff related to social interactions with other people! Would that be even more anxiety-causing? I find that stuff the most interesting and also varied between people.
I know I'm kind of a weird vote because I've been through a lot of similar physical stuff though.
My thoughts is write about as many experiences of the transition you can. It's incredibly important in that it helps to humanize trans people.
What struck me most is:
I see a lot of arguments about trans people that seem to think sex changes and gender transition are speedy, capricious, or impulsive decisions.
Which strikes a chord with any feminist or pro-feminist out there since it's exactly the same thing as those "abortion by convenience" arguments anti-choicers use. Reminding people that gender transition is a long and difficult process is one of the most valuable things I can think of.
So yeah, I would vote for more posts like this one.
I, certainly, am interested in such things. Partially because I just want to know what you're up to and how things are working out, and partially because it goes into really interesting places for me.
And yes, as Spotted Princess points out, a big part of privilege is not having to think about stuff. I want to have to think about things.
I would find it incredibly helpful to have some idea of what the transition is like. For a lot of people who are basically well-meaning there's a sense of mystery about the whole process, and it's hard to really offer any support if you don't know what the whole process actually entails.
The recent blow-up has been quite illuminating, hasn't it? I stopped reading IBTP for good, for starters. I didn't become a feminist to listen to hate speech, and a lot of other people feel the same way. The level of hostility is astounding, and I guess those of us who've never actually had to deal with transphobia up close and personal really didn't realise just how evil and irrational it could get.
So to answer your question yes, knowledge is a good thing. Maybe some people who're on the fence about the whole issue might be more sympathetic if they know more about the whoe issue, and I would imagine that for a young person who's just at the beginning stage of contemplating whether or not to go through the process it would be hugely helpful to hear a non-medicalized account of the whole thing.
I would definitely like to hear more, if you'd like to share.
Littlelight,
After engaging a particularly disgusting conversation with Heart(less) over at Womensspace on the topic of transwomen, I wrote about it on my blog and someone sent me to a link where Heart acted/showed herself to be just as big an asshole towards you.
As much as I wish you had never experienced any interactions with her, I am glad that I did manage to find your blog as a result of her hatefulness.
knowing I'll be dependent on medical technology and its attendant costs for the rest of my life
Reading that line helped me see the similarity between your situation and mine as a woman with disabilities. I remember when I had the realization you mentioned here. I was terrified beyond belief. However, that feeling hit a plateau and the days became a bit easier to get through.
Regarding what we'd like to read more about, I would certainly be very interested in hearing about the physical aspects of transitioning. To be honest, I haven't a single clue about what that must be like for you or any other transwoman. I want to get the point where I think of traspeople's struggles in the abstract and instead see what the effects of them are on the individuals living through it.
While most of what you named is quite normal (losing strength, drinking habits)
This is an alarm signal:
> the nausea. the aches. the nosebleeds. the cramps. the inability to eat some of my favorite foods,
I had that at first too and they are signs that you are at a high risk for bloodclotting (which your doc doesn't seem to connect). I learned that when I experienced it myself and reduced my Estrogen intake by 50% with great results. And use patches or cream, they reduce those risks significantly.
By the way I am back now to the old levels - half a year later I tried it again and this time I had no problems.
I had small problems with loosing strength. Its often more like using some more technique then simpley strength, like a while ago. And maybe in the worst case there are some strong people arround to help.
Happy new year,
Sarah
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