Two years of HRT and the poetry of love

On May 18, 2011, I took my first hormones (hormone replacement therapy or HRT). A few weeks in, I started to have panic attacks due to fears of transition and divorce. On December 21, 2011, I stopped taking HRT, mostly due to stress and fear of losing my marriage and family. And then, in the way that I’m so good at it sometimes that I want to slap myself, I buried the lede in the very last sentence of a round-up post about that experience.

I unplugged from the community and myself for most of 2013, trying to put myself back into the box. It didn’t work.

On February 6, 2014, I started taking hormones again and by September 2014, I knew that I could no longer pretend to myself that I wasn’t going to transition.

Now, two years later, I’m on the cusp of transition and much has happened and much is about to happen and much still could yet happen.

I told my kids I was trans. We’re all still adjusting to this new state of affairs.

I’m going to get divorced. The paperwork was filed Thursday and Washington has a 90 day waiting period, so somewhere on or after May 5, 2016, I’ll be a single woman again. Last August, we told the kids this was coming. While I’m sad that this relationship is ending, it does disconnect me from a source of distress centering around her substance abuse. I also step away satisfied that I went above, beyond, and then some more to try to salvage and repair things, and that outside of our children, there is no reason to look back.

I’ve come out to just about everyone in my life and I’m out just about everywhere but work, except for one person there and I know many others suspect the truth. I have a coming out letter prepped for my work and professional network, and while I’m sure I’ll revise it again before it gets sent/published, I’m ready to pull back the final curtain.

I’ll be legally changing my name to Heather after my divorce is final.

And, almost five years after I first started taking hormones, fifteen years after I almost started this journey before turning away in fear, over thirty-three years since I first realized I was trans, and forty-two since I had my first recognizable cross-gender feeling, I’ll finally, after decades of trying to deny or hide from the inevitability of it, socially transition.

And then what?

Well, I’ll just have to wait like the rest of you to find out. 🙂

And, (and I’ve been starting way too many sentences with ‘and’ recently, but I don’t care because I have lots of ands in my life right now,) and because I’ve done the hard work of getting my affairs in order the best I can and put in my time of introspection, and because the past four years have been incremental layers of painful rejection that culminated in living more than the last year as a nun and hermit devoid of tender affection, I put my feelers up late last year to be receptive to what the universe wants to put in front of me relationship-wise.

And, (I can see the red marks on this from my past English teachers,) and someone came along and knocked me off my axis a little over two weeks ago, and I fell madly, deeply, insanely, I can’t get shit done, in love, and how fucking lucky am I?

How lucky? She writes me poetry. She. Writes. Me. Poetry. <swoon/happy sigh>

And, (yes, yes, I know,) because I want to make her happy because making her happy makes me happy and goddamnit I haven’t been through hell and back more than once to not pursue and seize happiness when it presents itself, she asked if I would post some of her work.

As you wish.

So without further ado, here is one of her gifts to me, about me, as she works through ‘her gobsmacking crush on me’ (her words, not mine) as I unfold like a flower, petal by petal for her and I couldn’t have written anything better to describe my own journey over the past five years, which just goes to show that she’s a much better poet than she gives herself credit for:

Captivated by a flash, turned to glance, tantalized
A whole world dropped to chase a closer look
Once cornered, confirmed ravishing, I coaxed her near
Not knowing her power to enchant my hours into days
Unaware of distance in pursuit, now look up to discover
I am lost and confused in a sphere unchartered
Dazed I search in vain for familiar paths
Slow to realize no other choice but to cut one new
Through untamed forest I labor step by crooked step
To make a trail that will lead myself back to me



About cistotrans

A Seattle-area trans woman seeking a happy spot to stay at along the path of transition.
This entry was posted in coming out, divorce, family, friends, health, HRT, mental health, observations, personal history, poetry, self-acceptance, transition and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Two years of HRT and the poetry of love

  1. janitorqueer says:

    so exciting that you’ve found someone!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. cistotrans says:

    Yes! Thank you! 🙂


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