Before I got testosterone prescribed by an endocrinologist, I had to sign informed consent.
The problem is, that it seems to be quite impossible to fully understand what you’re consenting to. And no one was able to explain me all of it.
I fully understood the physical consequences that I could expect, that were known. I knew about the facial hair, body hair, balding patterns, libido, oily skin, muscle mass, probably becoming infertile, fat distribution, acne, clitoral growth, change of body odor, etc. I had researched it all, for years.
I also understood that the hormones wouldn’t exactly change my personality, but that they could change the way I felt things and how I’d react. I understood it could become harder for me to cry, that I might get angry easier and that emotions and events could affect me less or more intensely.
What I didn’t realize, is that one day, I might actually meet women that are just like me (in real life!), but don’t change their bodies. And what I definitely didn’t understand was that these women and lesbians would not recognize me, but see me as a cisgender man instead. And treat me as such.
No one could have explained me what this feels like.
I did not understand at that time, that when I consented to being assigned to use male bathrooms forever, it didn’t just mean that I would never get angry and disgusted stares from women anymore. No one told me that in many cases, the stall is closed/non-existent/too exposed, or so dirty that I can’t sit. No one told me that if you very often don’t sit or try to pee as little and as quickly as possible, you can get some trouble with your pelvic muscles. I have problems with relaxing in any kind of situation now.
No one told me that taking testosterone could make me feel even more alienated from both men and women.
No one told me that straight women being attracted to me feels very different from lesbian women being attracted to me.
What I didn’t understand was that I could one day change my mind, and stop taking any kind of hormones.
I also didn’t realize that I’d become sincerely afraid of the tissue of my reproductive organs being changed in some kind of way by the high levels of testosterone. In a way that’s dangerous to my health.
No one could tell me that I hadn’t met the right people yet, before I could make a proper informed decision.
No one reminded me that until that point, nobody had really loved me romantically exactly for the way I am. I had only been loved despite my butchness, or despite my body. And nobody told me that it is actually possible to be loved and desired the way I was, in a way that I could believe.
Nobody ever told me that it wasn’t necessary to take testosterone if I wanted to get a double mastectomy.
I couldn’t know that I consented to something I could actually regret.
I didn’t know I consented to something that would at some point make me feel like I betrayed myself, and the girls like me.
I didn’t understand what I consented to and I don’t think that that endocrinologist will ever be able to understand this.
I am not against informed consent. But there has to be some kind of way to improve the information and the deeper understanding of the consequences.