I had another gender counseling session on Thursday. Counseling is a bit of a strong word though. As reported earlier, my sessions are very transactional in nature. I offer information about myself, and the gatekeeper opens the door just a little bit wider for me.
The good news is that I’m not hell-bent on charging through transition, so this slower pace than I would like, while grating, isn’t making me despondent or anything. Just annoyed at times.
This week’s give and take was me giving more information about my self-experienced body image/incongruities and then taking a referral to a local doctor for a hormone consult in early May. While my counselor was kind enough to trim one month off the three-month waiting period for hormone referral, the one month wait to get in makes it effectively three months. Oh well.
Apparently it’s a multi-step process as well. The first visit is apparently just a consult and blood draw, the second will be a physical and blood panel review and a likely prescription for spraiolactane, and the third visit will be a check-in and prescription for estrogen.
Given how these compounds impact the body, I’m pretty OK with the slow pace here and close monitoring.
The huge step here for me was making the appointment. The last time I tried to transition, I was offered the hormone referral a couple of times, but declined both times. I was scared. I was scared that I would get on hormones, I would like them, and then pretty much have to finish my transition.
This time around, I’m more focused on using hormones to screen for how I react to them physically and finding the lowest possible maintenance dose that relieves most of the discomfort I feel. I’m also much more open to completing a transition.I’m purposefully trying to go slow for myself and to give my relationship time to adjust to any changes.
I’m filled with excitement that I’m taking this step finally, but I also have some fear about how this will impact my relationship. My wife was pretty clear a couple of months ago that if I started estrogen, we were finished. But then she was also telling me how much she hated me, and tonight I threw on one of my more femme shirts after getting out of the shower after my run, and she gave me a big hug and a kiss, and told me how much she loved me before she left to have dinner with a friend of hers.
So, who knows? She even asked to come along to the initial visit. I’m still mulling that over. I’d love to have her there, but I’m hesitant in case I get asked a pertinent question by the doctor about ground my wife and I haven’t covered together – that could be a recipe for disaster.