The 3 D’s in my life. Believe me, You don’t want these D’s.

Before I delve into all that, let me pick up where I left off. My ramble on the doctor had run a little long, and I never got the chance to fill in the rest of the day.  So after the doctor’s office, my feeling of excitement was again dashed. I had felt good about myself, and confident of my appearance. I was excited that I was just right on the edge of getting the hormones that I so desperately need to fully start my transition. Of course, once again I’m still not there. The only good thing that came from my doctor’s appointment was getting correctly gendered on the elevator. A lady said “Oh, I’m sorry ma’am” because the door almost closed on me.

I spent the next hour or so looking for a clinic or doctor in the Louisville/Southern Indiana/Lexington area that would prescribe based on the informed consent model. Basically, a doctor that will say “read this” and hand you a list of what’s going to happen, the risks, side effects and then if you’re ok with it, they write the scripts. No question of if they think you’re ready, or if you’ve shaved your pubic hair, or whatever.

Sadly, there do not appear to be any in this area. Chicago or Atlanta was the closest I could come up with. Planned Parenthood does, but none of the ones here. Mostly in NY and Cali. This is something that’s so lacking in many areas, because trans healthcare is pretty sad.  I tried to call PP to confirm, but after sitting on their menu system for 34 minutes and 58 seconds, I gave up. I really didn’t want to sit on the phone with them for an hour to get the news I already assumed to be true.

So, I decided to cheer up and just try and make the best of a rainy and gray day. I put my boots back on and headed to the mall. I had a dress that Megan and I had impulse purchased at Forever 21 without having me try it on first. Way too small, in a large, I couldn’t get it over my hips or my shoulders. Sad, it was cute. I just probably need a 2X in that brand. Forever21 doesn’t do cash returns, so I have store credit. I walked the store for 30 minutes, and it’s just so…. disorganized that I gave up. I think I’m going to have to shop in the plus size department and I just couldn’t find anything I liked because you have to stop at each rack and go through each garment because there might be 4 different tops on one rack.

I also had a ring that Megan bought for me for Valentine’s Day that I needed to get sized. I took it into the jeweler and actually got two compliments. One girl said she liked my boots and then another said she loved my dress. So that made me feel good. The ring won’t be back for a week. I’m excited to have it, because it’s pretty and girly and that’s kinda what I’m into right now.

My biggest achievement of the day was successfully navigating the women’s room at the mall. One of those huge 20 toilet bathrooms. I tried to just be as confident as I could with that “I’m supposed to be here” attitude. No one said anything and if they gave me a funny look, I didn’t notice because I didn’t make eye contact with a soul.

I went to a few other places that day, Qdoba, the grocery store, etc.. All without incident, comment, ridicule or otherwise. It was great. I felt so authentic and just very comfortable in my own skin. This is where I’ve been trying to get to and it feels so good. However, the highs bring the extreme lows afterwards. Megan is still not comfortable going out with me in full fem mode. So I slipped out of my outfit and back into jeans and a t-shirt for dinner. As soon as this happened and I wiped off the lipstick, I kinda fell back into the dumps. It was like back to reality. The land of “Sir.”

I had to work yesterday, and it was all fine. Except for the working part, but I’m just sort of androgynous. Sort of, is probably the wrong word. If everyone didn’t know that I was married, they’d assume I was just a very gay man. I’m certainly the only “man” in the office that wears jeggings to work. They probably still think I’m a gay man who just happened to be married. Some people know about my transition and there’s been a little gossip, but I don’t think it’s made the full rounds of the office. However, one of the people I work with, who was our team leader when we first came out of training has been very nice to me and kinda checks on me from time to time to see how things are going. That’s been really cool.

After work, Megan drug me out to dinner with Grayson and her mother. I think the thing is, with the way I’m presenting at this point, my male is too gay or fem to pass for male, but not over the tipping point of being girly. If my hair was longer, and if I had boobs, I’d be a woman.. but for now, I’m just a man carrying a purse in some jeggings.  So honestly, I think I get more puzzled glances like that, than I did in the dress.  Megan’s uncomfortableness is with that attention, but I think we’re getting more attention as I am now than we would all out.

So last night, when I came home, I was just used up. I didn’t want to do anything except mope and wallow in my depression and dysphoria… which leads to drinking. Nothing like self-medicating your depression with a depressant. Right? But that’s how I work… when things are great, we celebrate, we drink. When things are bad, we contemplate, we drink. I’m not saying it’s right, but it is what it is.

Megan tried to make me feel better, laid with me. She had me put on one of her nightgowns and tried to ease my mind. She’s so great, I love her so much. Here she is trying to manage her own emotions of losing the man in her life, and she’s trying to help me feel better about things… I’m so fortunate. We’re both trying to minimize the distress of each other, but every victory I have comes at her expense. There is no win here for her, just loss and grief.

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