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?
I like to say that New Year’s resolutions are not really my thing. But maybe they are.
The first thing I saw upon waking up on New Year’s Day with my cat looking into my eyes. He then started talking to me and placed his paw on my cheek. (I like to imagine that it’s because he loves me, but I suppose he wanted something to eat haha – or probably both “hey sweetheart, I love you, but could you fix me a bowl of tuna now?”) I’m so grateful for this furry guy who with his silly antics, gentleness and soft fur warms and lightens up even the dullest days. He’s my best buddy and has been a life saver.
And there are more things that I am grateful for.
My wife who, through her transition, is becoming more and more herself and is transforming like the caterpillar into the butterfly. Through the road may not have been all easy, it is a rewarding one, and one that has been both challenging and enrichening for me. Not only she changed and became, in a way, a whole new person, but me too – I learned things about myself as I set off on my own journey of transformation.
After having been in the closet most of my life and gone through conversion therapies and exorcisms, I finally came out last year together with my wife. I came out as lesbian, she came out as transgender. Only later in my journey did I come out as non-binary as well -not that I hadn’t been like this since my childhood, but I was lacking the vocabulary to say so.
What first seemed like a disaster in some ways (loss of job as pastor and friends after a very painful process, burnout and various difficulties) has also become a blessing and a new start, a new chance; the beginning of a journey of self-discovery that probably would not have been possible otherwise.
Coming out was the beginning of a whole new life. I was finally free to be, and become whom I’ve always been, and say goodbye to those who’d condemn me for being myself. Also, I could (and had to) work on those voices still inside my head which spoke of hell, and move forward with my life.
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…
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.
I was born in Germany and spent my first 12 years with my grandparents.
My grandparents had typical ideas about gender-specific
roles that often bothered me. People often wanted me to play with dolls, but
most of these typical girl activities did not interest me: mostly I wanted to
play with cars or cops and robbers with the boys. I felt good with the boys,
like I was “one of them” – it was never like that with the girls, it
was always kind of unnatural.
When growing up, it was similar. While many of my classmates
were interested in fashion, makeup and the like, I found it more exciting to
recognize cars by the sound of the engine. Of course I also liked some of the
more “female” activities like baking, cooking, reading and drawing.
But often, when I said stuff like “I would like to build a model train /
model airplanes / a chemistry kit” I was told over and over: “That’s
not possible, you’re a girl, and and those are for boys”.
This division into male / female bothered me a lot: why, for what? Why not both? Why choose? There was a feeling of something not being right.