From T to no T – masculine, feminine, and everything inbetween and beyond

In my last post I was musing about whether I was going to microdose testosterone or not. And even though the matter has been taken out of my hands in some ways, I have advanced in my reflections thanks to discussing the matter with my psychologist, also meditating on it on my own.

I asked myself, why do I think I feel the need to take T? Obviously, because there is this masculine part of me that is important to me. Expressing that, and feeling my masculinity makes me feel secure, safe and strong. It makes me feel grounded within myself and protected, and far less vulnerable.

And there is my feminine side which of course I do not want to deny, but that I did not know what to do with, and that I came to feel more and more uneasy with. But why actually?

Of course, I have always had these two parts to me, like two sides of a coin that together make one. But what is the problem with my feminity? Why has it become more difficult over time not to accept it, but to express it?

Continue reading “From T to no T – masculine, feminine, and everything inbetween and beyond”

To T or not to T

On February 25 I have an appointment with an endocrinologist to talk about the possibility of testosterone microdosing for me in order to masculinize my appearance in several aspects and lower my voice (more marked facial features, muscles, body fat distribution… ) – but in no case do I want to look like a man or be a man – because simply, I am not. More body hair ugh – that’s something I’d rather not – no thanks. But you can’t pick and choose.

But I do have doubts now, second thoughts.
Why do I feel the need to do this?

During my 2 months stay in the clinic, I felt perfectly comfortable in my body, with no desire or need for testosterone. Whenever I thought about it, my answer was “no”. Yes, once or twice I put on my binder and it felt great – but that was it. I felt pretty good and confident as I was, as I am.

So why has it changed since I got home again, and why was it different before I went there? And what was different over there?

Continue reading “To T or not to T”

Remember the lost 2019

Whisper their names gently with love and grief
And shout their names from the rooftops with anger

Still today

screams of pain

3314 lives lost
from 2008 until today

For being who they are,
living their truth in beauty,
trans-cending the imposed limits of their beings

Whisper their names gently with love and grief
And shout their names from the rooftops with anger

Mourn their lives
Then, be a light
who fights the darkness of hatred
for each life hurt or lost
is a whole world that disappears
is one stars less that shines brightly in the sky
a diamond of infinite worth that disappears

Let us protect each other
protect and love our siblings
protect our youth
Protect trans women of color

All are
shining stars.

Partners in Transition

When one partner in a relationship transitions, actually both transition. It is a challenging, but beautiful time, and the one can be a catalyst for the other in a beautiful and enrichening way.

In May 2018, at the very end of the month, my wife (whom I had thought to be my husband of 20 years) finally realized and awakened to her true self, the person she was always meant to be but could never express – neither in words, thoughts, nor actions. There had been fleeting stolen moments of happiness, tiny sparse hidden islands of release, unexplained – but the breaktrough, the realization only happened on that tuesday in may, a late afternoon in a therapists office.

That tuesday afternoon was the starting point of a whole new life for the two of us. What to do, where to go, whom to inform, which direction to take, at which pace?

Stay together or not? That was a question I did not ask myself. It was a question that others from the outside asked me, presuming that I wouldn’t want to live together with a trans woman, or that, once the transition “done”, she would choose a man. Another question that regularly came up immediately was the one about me, whether I would now automatically “become a man”, to continue the traditional heteronormative couple. If I still had hair, I’d have ripped it out out each time…

Continue reading “Partners in Transition”

A non-binary transition

The non-binary life is a good life – at least for me.

But it also comes, as all lives, with its difficulties and complications: what does a transition look like for a non-binary person? For a binary trans person, the question would seem more or less clear: transition to manifest their male- or femaleness as much as needed, by all means deemed and seen as neccessary and/or available.

Somehow, in a way, I’d say that, as a non-binary person, things are similar, maybe just a bit more complex. There may not be a fix ending point to my transition (but is there really any end to anyone’s transition? We strive to always become more ourselves even if, later on, the steps might become infinitely small or, instead of being outwardly visible steps, are spiritual steps of some kind). But it is also a path of transitioning towards a more true, comfortable version of my self; or rather, bringing into harmony my inner self and what is seen outwardly, and deciding on which steps are needed to get there.

Continue reading “A non-binary transition”

Trans is Beautiful

Trans is beautiful

like the first rays of the sun glistening on the drops of dew

like a flower opening to show its beauty

like a butterfly breaking free from its cocoon

like the brilliant facets of a freshly polished diamond

like a young bird learning to fly

Trans is beautiful

Trans is strong

Trans is precious

Trans is unique

Trans is wonderful



to bring out the true handsome beautiful self

in every creatively possible way


to bring about what was always meant to be,

what has always been,

buried and alive, deep in heart & soul

Trans is beautiful

Trans is handsome

Trans is precious

Trans is blessed

Trans is LOVE.


my ancestors were slaves on cotton fields
my ancestors were slaves doing the capoeira in the heat
my ancestors were those who were deported to the camps,
were those who were converted by force yet still called pigs

under the mantle of the new religion forced upon,
old traditions were kept alive
black skin reminiscent of dark rich soil
and songs without words to tell thousand stories

from the blood, sweat and tears new life sprang
that the oppressor couldn’t squelch,
that the chambers could not gas

let a new niggun rise from my heart
let my feet move to the drumbeat coming from the heart of the motherland
where the lioness hunts

a new song, my song
a new dance, my dance
my heart is my drum
and forms the lines of my niggun

not ashamed anymore
women loving
here for my siblings
jewish person of color