12 Months on T - Dear Pre-T Me

Dear pre-t me,

It’s yourself, but with a deeper voice and a lot more body hair.

I am twelve months on testosterone. That’s right. You make it.

Although I had a lot of support and guidance, I wish I had more of a clue of what I was in for. So, here’s the information I never received.

You’ll have to wait longer than you’d hoped to start hormones, but it does happen. On Friday the Thirteenth of May.

You’ll get your T letter just before Christmas 2015 and you’ll go to your GP’s bursting with excitement, only to have your heart crushed. You’ll get the news that you must have a CAT scan due to a hormone imbalance, and there’s a six-month waiting time. You’re going to go home, crawl into bed and cry. You’ll feel defeated and hopeless.

The months will drag, but you’ll still be able to have fun thanks to your friends.

You’ll cry a lot. Almost every night and every time you have shower or when you shop for trousers.

You’ll get frustrated with your body and want to rip your flesh from your bones.

You might even do something stupid.

Then you’ll realise that you never want to go back to that place. That you need to make your own happiness.

You’ll fall in love and he’ll prove to you that you’re lovable and being trans does not have to affect a relationship.

You’ll start to feel happier and spend more time with friends.

Then, you’ll be assaulted. In a bathroom at a local pub.

You won’t tell anybody.

Your anxiety will start to take over your life. Public bathrooms will become the enemy. You’ll dehydrate yourself until you feel ill just to avoid them.

Finally, you’ll have your CAT scan and, one week later, they’ll tell you there’s nothing wrong.

You’ll go to your doctor again and be told that they need a letter from an NHS clinic to be able to administer your T shots.

You’ll go home feeling exactly how you felt six months previously.

Then you’ll talk to Mum and decide to start T privately. She’ll say ‘We just need to get you started, you’ve waited so long’. You’ll call the clinic and they’ll tell you that you can start next Friday. You’ll cry with joy.

You’ll go the appointment and have your first shot. It will hurt. A lot. You’ll worry that he did it wrong, but find out it’s natural. You’ll be annoyed that nobody had warned you how much it hurts.

The first couple of months on T are hard. Exciting. But hard. The first week you will enter a strange sort of depression because you’ve been so hyped for the injection, but you suddenly realise that the effects aren’t instant, and don’t know when you’ll start to see any changes.

Your libido will take over your life. Every day will revolve around your sex drive, it will be all you think about.

Your sexuality will change daily. You’ll break up with the boyfriend that got you through so much, because of it.

Your head will be a mess of libido and confusion. You’ll be unable to concentrate.

You’ll also discover a new emotion: anger. You’ll punch something once and realise how stupid it was so you’ll start exercising as a way of getting rid of the feeling.

Your voice will start cracking after three weeks and you’ll notice some extra body hair.

Over the next few months, your confidence will grow.

You’ll start to date again.

Your chest will bind more easily.

You’ll grow an insane snail trail.

You’ll have to start shaving your face.

Your voice will get lower than some of your cis-male friend’s.

You’ll get acne, but that’ll die down eventually.

Your shoulders will widen.

Your hips will narrow.

Your bum definitely gets smaller.

Your libido will chill out eventually.

You’ll no longer be able to cry.

You’ll stop being misgendered.

You’ll take a CBT course and learn how to control your anxiety.

You’ll start to use public bathrooms with no worries.

You’ll tell people about the assault.

Your anxiety will dramatically decrease.

You’ll start to wear clothes that you like and dye your hair (skip the whole green dye phase).

You’ll figure out what you want to do with your life.

You’ll find your purpose and meaning.

You’ll get your first consultation date for top surgery. You’ll go to your local and your friends will surprise you with prosecco and a toast.

At eleven months on T, you’ll go trouser shopping and you won’t cry. You’ll find some well-fitting suit trousers and you’ll realise just how far you’ve come.

You’ll barely even think about being trans, because you’re completely accepted as male by everyone you come across.

You’ll still meet and get to know new and amazing people.

You’ll still fall madly in love.

You’ll still make mistakes.

You’ll still get your heart broken.

You’ll still be able to pick yourself back up.

You’ll still find life just a little too much sometimes.

But it’ll continue to get easier.

Dear pre-t me,

Thank you for getting me this far. I can take it from here.

fab