When I first started medically transitioning one year ago I was overwhelmed with thoughts of whether or not if Iāll ever be āpassableā enough, if I would ever be able to maintain societal gender norms upon myself and if I would go through my medical transition 100% safe and ācorrectlyā. Even though it was 2014, there was still a thick and heavy transphobic atmosphere that would leak into every crevice of my body that would make me feel as if I wasnāt āpassableā enough, as if I wasnāt ābeautifulā enough and as if I wasnāt up to par with traditional feminine gender roles. I was a spit fire nineteen year old who thought that medically transitioning would happen over night which would make my life less burdensome and would ease the pain of this atmosphere.
Over the past year Iāve learned that was anything but the truth. Medical transition is an extremely slow, yet life saving, process that takes a lot out of someone, both mentally/physically/emotionally/psychologically. Every day for the past year Iāve had to overcome transphobic remarks being thrown at me, Iāve had to overcome families hiding their children from me as if I was a sociopath, and Iāve had to overcome my own internalized transphobia. Initially I had to wait for my prescription of estrogen for a month, which as a spit fire nineteen year old was the end of the world (understandably).
I took matters into my own hand and began to self medicate on online black market estrogen to help ease the pain and discomfort that I felt from how others perceived me. I viewed that tiny mint colored pill as a gateway into passibility and as my way into womanhood. I constantly hungered after this vague concept of being passable enough that I would harm my body for a month straight with a pill that wasnāt 100% guaranteed to be estrogen. For all I know, it could have been toxic and I would have still taken it because the discomfort was so severe.
When I look back a year ago, I see someone who was frightened about what the future would hold. Itās taken an abusive relationship, a toxic friendship and two addictions for me to realize that I wasnāt living my life how I had initially hoped. Iāve had to stare at my reflection in the mirror on so many nights to tell myself that things will get better with hard work, and itās safe to say that Iām at a 30% progress level.
I wrote a letter to myself last year with a million questions on the first day that I started medically transitioning on September 11, 2014. I honestly forgot about this letter that I wrote and it made me sad. The only thing that I wrote was, āare you passable enough that someone loves you?ā
