Thanks Doc. This is beautifully written. My egg cracked in March 2009. (There were hints from about 2005.) And I love my life as a trans woman. I'm 66 now, and going in for a gender affirming surgery on 31-Oct. Zero hesitation. Looking wildly forward to it.
When my egg cracked I knew things about myself I couldn't un-know. One of those was that the only way forward was to transition. I was on HRT within 6 weeks - mostly *because* I knew it would take time to work and I needed that underway to tackle other parts of transitioning. I've been told I'm "speed-running" and that's probably not too far off the mark!
As hard as it is to transition, it's harder *not* to.
I'm very nearly four years in transition, and I just last week finished the very last, tail-end thing that marked the end of my active transition. So, when I say I know what you mean by speedrunning, believe me, I get it.
Wow, this post sent me down another rabbit hole. I've been reading my old journal entries and looking at my calendar, recalling the period after seeing that webcomic. I had doubts during that first week, but I faced them directly, and they all fell. When I started trying to find a referral for HRT, I knew it would be reversible for quite some time, and that eased my fear of the unknown. But by the time I saw my "gender doctor" for the first time, I was anxious to start, with no doubts remaining.
Truth be told, I knew where I was headed from the moment I saw Greg's eyes go wide. For me, it was less a leap of faith than letting my eyes open after squeezing them shut for decades.
It's been fourteen months since I opened my eyes. With the emotions coming back to me today, I want to express my deepest gratitude for posting that "egg beacon" and for your support as I took my first real breaths in the sunlight.
I’ve been fighting to get access to hormones for almost three years. (Unfortunately, there is no informed consent in Belgium.) And the weird thing is that once I finally got greenlit I felt totally spent. I’ve now been waiting for two months on whether to get the hormones. My mind makes up the most insane excuses. But who am I kidding. I can’t run from this. Yes. I too will take this leap of faith.
Thank you for your wise words. They always seem to land in my inbox at just the right moment.
Definitely sums it all up. Today is my 10 month HRT anniversary. I am finally coming out to colleagues, more family, and friends. So far, so good. My wife is still having a very hard time with some of it. She has been having really bad luck with therapists, so that is not helping. Thanks for another wonderful article. Every little bit helps.
My unhelpful fear isn't that I'll regret things but that I'm not properly trans or something, I'd really feels strange to even type out. Like sure low regret rates but is it right for me to even start? Sigh
Massive untreated ADHD task avoidance/executive dysfunction has caused me to avoid confronting things like I should as well
I've known a lot of queers for a very long time. I tried to do the "denial cisgay" thing. I was afraid enough of the sentence "i'm trans', that I maintained this two-paragraph long enby identity for like 15 years. All of that basically just evaporated with estrogen, and became "i'm a lesbian"
Through all of that, I haven't met a single person who is "not really trans". I've sure met a bunch of people that would be happier if they started their transition, though. Only you can ever know if it's right for you, but if you're thinking you might be trans, there's a pretty high chance that you're just actually trans, and once you have the clarity of the hormones, it'll be super obvious.
Fourteen months after my egg cracked, I still feel an occasional pang of doubt about my identity. But it passes quickly because I think about how happy I am now, how grateful I am every day for my transition.
I still get emotional when I think about that week. I know I've thanked you quite a few times, but I want to thank you again. You planted the seed that started my life.
I've been doing what I can with my blog, and I just started a YouTube series aimed at a broader audience. Since I transitioned, I've been genuinely happy, basically all the time, and I want to share my mindset. If you could share it, I'd appreciate it because your reach is a lot greater than mine. My YouTube handle is iamviolet0823.
TBH, I'm absolutely slammed right now, and I like to vet materials really thoroughly before I boost them. I'll try and circle back when my life isn't a massive typhoon, but it'll be a bit. 💜
Very much the same. The idea of aging into an old man was too much.
A few days after my birthday in 2020, I finally admitted to myself that transitioning was something I absolutely needed to do. I couldn't put it off any longer. I haven't had a single doubt what I wanted for my transition since then.
I like how this essay frames the choice we make. It is a truly terrifying choice, and like the Matrix, all is not settled after you first make that choice. You have to keep making it. There are things you will fear all along the way.
There's a quote from a movie I think about when I consider whether I should talk to others about what it's like to transition, whether it's responsible to share with people who might be figuring out whether they should leap.
"If I may make a suggestion, it's a children's book, right?"
"Right."
"They are not supposed to scare the living shit out of the children."
I have let go and leapt. I am still in the middle of the air; I am still reaching for the other side.
I know the odds of landing on the other side are with me, but until I do I can't help but be aware of the chasm below.
It was and still is scary as fuck.
Yet I have reached the other side so many times already.
It is. I don't know if there is a way to think about the leap except as an embrace? And that is love. You embrace who you are, even though you might not know exactly who that is yet - you have never let yourself know that person - but whoever it is you know you love them.
But I'm just a baby, 9 months of HRT and coming up on one year since my egg cracked. I try to say what this all means as I try to learn about my new life, and then reinvent it all again with each new day.
Those of us who cracked, who *knew* they would transition if possible, and waited a long time for reasons can attest how the need grows stronger, your mental health gets worse, how whatever joy you felt in life slowly fades away.
One concern not mentioned above is the very real fear of consequences for even trying HRT.
Unless a person is willing to DIY and hide/lie what they are doing from everyone close, including spouses, taking this step involves vulnerability. To doctors. To partners. And in less-than-ideal circumstances those have lasting consequences to consider as well.
This is not a cautionary note. It's just that even dipping your toe in the water can bring undeserved misery into your life. And fear of *that* can be a blocker as well.
As of right now, i have like 2 voices in my head, one which is of my own version that is a man that looks like me but with short hairs and a small beard, the other is like a small ball of shining light with a female voice. The man tells me that my parents are right that i am not trans, that i shouldn't trust what i read on the internet. The ball tells me that i shouldn't listen to him, that what my parents thinks shouldn't matter to me. Then the man tells me that if i decide to do it even if they don't approve of that, i will end being homeless or shunned by them. The ball tells me that it's because they don't understand and that they will need time to accept it. After that, the man goes on the aggressive by telling me that you should listen to them, your mother helped you, and she is proud of the brilliant young man that is in CEGEP and performing greatly. The ball says that it came at a cost, feeling alone, not having friends at the CEGEP, and that you shouldn't listen to that voice. Then they continue to argue and i stop listening to them. It's starting to feel worse and worse, starting to cry when i pee in the toilet cabin, being stressed when i hear guys talking to each other. My parents wants that i fix what caused me to have suicidal thoughts before thinking to start transitioning.
There's a beautiful quote, written by Brianna Wiest, that I think you might appreciate right now:
“Your new life is going to cost you your old one.
It’s going to cost you your comfort zone and your sense
of direction.
It’s going to cost you relationships and friends.
It’s going to cost you being liked and understood.
It doesn’t matter.
The people who are meant for you are going to meet you
on the other side. You’re going to build a new comfort
zone around the things that actually move you forward.
Instead of being liked, you’re going to be loved. Instead of
being understood, you’re going to be seen.
All you’re going to lose is what was built for a person you
no longer are.”
But that's every big change, not just this one, and every part of being alive. It's hard and it's scary, and, in the end, it's always, *always* so worth it.
If I were young (pick any “young “ age), at this particular time with all the wonderful medical advances, the choice would actually be far easier. But here I am at 67 with two adult children and 3 grandchildren that I adore…I am so afraid of blowing everything up and being alone for my final years. This family is very conservative. I don’t know how as I certainly have never espoused anti-trans sentiment for obvious reason. I am so deeply saddened that it’s as if I am sadly waiting for some ending with this in hopes that I get a fair and proper redo.
Honey, I know several trans folks who transitioned in their 60's, and who are living joyful lives now. It's actually one of the more common times for folks to transition.
And, yeah, while it would've been happier to transition younger, to get more time in life as yourself, wouldn't it be better to get SOME shot at it now, rather than to be on your deathbed in twenty years, with nothing but regrets and might-have-been's?
One last thing: trans identities are 30-50% genetic. That means there's a real chance one of your kids is also trans, also trying to bury it. That one *or more* of your grandkids is too.
It's not too late. There are no redos. You only get one shot at life.
You coming out now could save them from finding themselves in your position when they make it to your age.
I'm 54. I'm married but I don't have any kids; so my situation is not yours.
I've met a woman in this rural area of the Midwest I live in that transitioned at age 50 in 2000. She's 75 now. She started her transition when her wife developed a terminal illness. She decided she couldn't cope with the stress of that on top of the stress she felt trying to live this life she had a man. Her wife supported her.
However that year she lost her wife, her business, her kids, grandkids, and the rest of her family who all blamed her for her wife's death.
She would do it again and has no regrets.
I wonder how confused some cis people must get, when they hear our stories and we express so much joy while we describe all the pain we have suffered.
Many of our stories don't sound like happy stories. They are trans stories. They are *happier* stories.
I don't know if it is worth it to you. I'm still so new at this, and I don't know how to describe how I feel now compared to before; but there are no consequences I could have suffered that would have made me less happy now than I was before.
No mistake though it hasn't all been fun. A lot of pain right alongside the joy. Not all tears will be joyful.
For me, knowing what I know now, I would lose everything else in my life but this.
This is an amazing article. This month (September) was 8 years since I started my public transition by changing my name on Facebook. I remember then that I was making a huge mistake, but turns out I didn't. From that point to my recent gender affirming procedure back in July, nothing I've done have been mistakes, nor do I have regret.
I needed to be reminded again how far I've come and how much of it was because I decided to believe and trust in myself. (though I'm having a hard time doing so right now, but I'm improving, or so I'm told.)
Reading this when I'm being philosophical about starting my second year on my resumed journey. And yes, it hits home with me.
I think the strongest aspect about my retransition is the feeling of "let's get ON with it", that I need to make up for that lost time. At the same time, I'm far happier and healthier than I have ever been in my life. I LOVE the strong, smart, clever, determined woman I'm becoming.
When you say, “all I can find are non-transitioners who are coping” do you think it’s possible that we can choose not to transition and be content? Or are we truly doomed to feel worse and worse till we die?
For clarity: I didn't say that. Amanda Roman said that.
I know several non-transitioning trans people who are, to the best of my understanding, quite happy as they are. And yes, there's a huge asterisk to that statement: they are enbies, do not experience physical dysphoria, and their presentation and gendered experience in the world gels well enough with their experience of gender that they don't really get any social dysphoria.
If a person persistently wants to transition, that desire is a reflection of a deep-seated need to live authentically. And, like an unmet need for air or water, not meeting it will make you more and more desperate until you do.
So, if what you're really asking me is, "as a person who wants to transition but is fighting to not/to repress, if I don't transition, will I just feel worse forever until I do?" Well, I don't have a crystal ball. I can't tell you your personal future. Is there *some* chance that you'll feel better someday? Of course. The world is chaotic and random. There's always a chance.
But the odds are, very strongly, that the answer to your question is yes.
That's why it's a leap of faith either way. One way, you rearrange your life in the hope it'll be better. The other, you're hoping on a very small chance that all this will just blow over.
Only you can know which is the right leap for you to take.
Thanks Doc. This is beautifully written. My egg cracked in March 2009. (There were hints from about 2005.) And I love my life as a trans woman. I'm 66 now, and going in for a gender affirming surgery on 31-Oct. Zero hesitation. Looking wildly forward to it.
Congratulations, and safe travels through the OR!!
When my egg cracked I knew things about myself I couldn't un-know. One of those was that the only way forward was to transition. I was on HRT within 6 weeks - mostly *because* I knew it would take time to work and I needed that underway to tackle other parts of transitioning. I've been told I'm "speed-running" and that's probably not too far off the mark!
As hard as it is to transition, it's harder *not* to.
I'm very nearly four years in transition, and I just last week finished the very last, tail-end thing that marked the end of my active transition. So, when I say I know what you mean by speedrunning, believe me, I get it.
And I agree with your experience.
Wow, this post sent me down another rabbit hole. I've been reading my old journal entries and looking at my calendar, recalling the period after seeing that webcomic. I had doubts during that first week, but I faced them directly, and they all fell. When I started trying to find a referral for HRT, I knew it would be reversible for quite some time, and that eased my fear of the unknown. But by the time I saw my "gender doctor" for the first time, I was anxious to start, with no doubts remaining.
Truth be told, I knew where I was headed from the moment I saw Greg's eyes go wide. For me, it was less a leap of faith than letting my eyes open after squeezing them shut for decades.
It's been fourteen months since I opened my eyes. With the emotions coming back to me today, I want to express my deepest gratitude for posting that "egg beacon" and for your support as I took my first real breaths in the sunlight.
Gosh, there are a lot of Big Mood's in that post for me. 🫂
I’ve been fighting to get access to hormones for almost three years. (Unfortunately, there is no informed consent in Belgium.) And the weird thing is that once I finally got greenlit I felt totally spent. I’ve now been waiting for two months on whether to get the hormones. My mind makes up the most insane excuses. But who am I kidding. I can’t run from this. Yes. I too will take this leap of faith.
Thank you for your wise words. They always seem to land in my inbox at just the right moment.
- Nova (formerly Max)
[edited for typos]
That's wonderful to hear, Nova. 💜
Definitely sums it all up. Today is my 10 month HRT anniversary. I am finally coming out to colleagues, more family, and friends. So far, so good. My wife is still having a very hard time with some of it. She has been having really bad luck with therapists, so that is not helping. Thanks for another wonderful article. Every little bit helps.
Sometimes, getting through those hard times is what makes for a deeper, more resilient and robust relationship. 💜🫂💜
My unhelpful fear isn't that I'll regret things but that I'm not properly trans or something, I'd really feels strange to even type out. Like sure low regret rates but is it right for me to even start? Sigh
Massive untreated ADHD task avoidance/executive dysfunction has caused me to avoid confronting things like I should as well
Well... I have a few essays on that, if they'd help.
I've known a lot of queers for a very long time. I tried to do the "denial cisgay" thing. I was afraid enough of the sentence "i'm trans', that I maintained this two-paragraph long enby identity for like 15 years. All of that basically just evaporated with estrogen, and became "i'm a lesbian"
Through all of that, I haven't met a single person who is "not really trans". I've sure met a bunch of people that would be happier if they started their transition, though. Only you can ever know if it's right for you, but if you're thinking you might be trans, there's a pretty high chance that you're just actually trans, and once you have the clarity of the hormones, it'll be super obvious.
This? This comment is wise.
Fourteen months after my egg cracked, I still feel an occasional pang of doubt about my identity. But it passes quickly because I think about how happy I am now, how grateful I am every day for my transition.
It's so cool seeing you now, Violet, having talked to you as you were just starting to get a sense of things. ☺️
I still get emotional when I think about that week. I know I've thanked you quite a few times, but I want to thank you again. You planted the seed that started my life.
It's what we do, hun. We help each other up.
I've been doing what I can with my blog, and I just started a YouTube series aimed at a broader audience. Since I transitioned, I've been genuinely happy, basically all the time, and I want to share my mindset. If you could share it, I'd appreciate it because your reach is a lot greater than mine. My YouTube handle is iamviolet0823.
TBH, I'm absolutely slammed right now, and I like to vet materials really thoroughly before I boost them. I'll try and circle back when my life isn't a massive typhoon, but it'll be a bit. 💜
When i actually decided to transition, the kind of last question i asked was "do i want to die as a boy?"
The revulsion i felt at that thought told me i was going to have to do this SOMETIME.
Very much the same. The idea of aging into an old man was too much.
A few days after my birthday in 2020, I finally admitted to myself that transitioning was something I absolutely needed to do. I couldn't put it off any longer. I haven't had a single doubt what I wanted for my transition since then.
Oof, that imagining dying as an old man always was the worst for me.
I like how this essay frames the choice we make. It is a truly terrifying choice, and like the Matrix, all is not settled after you first make that choice. You have to keep making it. There are things you will fear all along the way.
There's a quote from a movie I think about when I consider whether I should talk to others about what it's like to transition, whether it's responsible to share with people who might be figuring out whether they should leap.
"If I may make a suggestion, it's a children's book, right?"
"Right."
"They are not supposed to scare the living shit out of the children."
I have let go and leapt. I am still in the middle of the air; I am still reaching for the other side.
I know the odds of landing on the other side are with me, but until I do I can't help but be aware of the chasm below.
It was and still is scary as fuck.
Yet I have reached the other side so many times already.
For the first time in my life, I love myself.
I HAVE to keep reaching.
That's the thing, isn't it? The leap itself changes us, regardless of its outcome... And that's pretty beautiful, you know?
It is. I don't know if there is a way to think about the leap except as an embrace? And that is love. You embrace who you are, even though you might not know exactly who that is yet - you have never let yourself know that person - but whoever it is you know you love them.
But I'm just a baby, 9 months of HRT and coming up on one year since my egg cracked. I try to say what this all means as I try to learn about my new life, and then reinvent it all again with each new day.
It's always beautiful. So beautiful.
Those of us who cracked, who *knew* they would transition if possible, and waited a long time for reasons can attest how the need grows stronger, your mental health gets worse, how whatever joy you felt in life slowly fades away.
One concern not mentioned above is the very real fear of consequences for even trying HRT.
Unless a person is willing to DIY and hide/lie what they are doing from everyone close, including spouses, taking this step involves vulnerability. To doctors. To partners. And in less-than-ideal circumstances those have lasting consequences to consider as well.
This is not a cautionary note. It's just that even dipping your toe in the water can bring undeserved misery into your life. And fear of *that* can be a blocker as well.
It can. It can also bring unexpected joy.
That's kind of the point--we don't know how the leap will turn out until we take it.
I loved this. Well done and thanks for sharing NDs substack. Great stuff.
NDs stuff is some of my very favorite work on gender.
As of right now, i have like 2 voices in my head, one which is of my own version that is a man that looks like me but with short hairs and a small beard, the other is like a small ball of shining light with a female voice. The man tells me that my parents are right that i am not trans, that i shouldn't trust what i read on the internet. The ball tells me that i shouldn't listen to him, that what my parents thinks shouldn't matter to me. Then the man tells me that if i decide to do it even if they don't approve of that, i will end being homeless or shunned by them. The ball tells me that it's because they don't understand and that they will need time to accept it. After that, the man goes on the aggressive by telling me that you should listen to them, your mother helped you, and she is proud of the brilliant young man that is in CEGEP and performing greatly. The ball says that it came at a cost, feeling alone, not having friends at the CEGEP, and that you shouldn't listen to that voice. Then they continue to argue and i stop listening to them. It's starting to feel worse and worse, starting to cry when i pee in the toilet cabin, being stressed when i hear guys talking to each other. My parents wants that i fix what caused me to have suicidal thoughts before thinking to start transitioning.
There's a beautiful quote, written by Brianna Wiest, that I think you might appreciate right now:
“Your new life is going to cost you your old one.
It’s going to cost you your comfort zone and your sense
of direction.
It’s going to cost you relationships and friends.
It’s going to cost you being liked and understood.
It doesn’t matter.
The people who are meant for you are going to meet you
on the other side. You’re going to build a new comfort
zone around the things that actually move you forward.
Instead of being liked, you’re going to be loved. Instead of
being understood, you’re going to be seen.
All you’re going to lose is what was built for a person you
no longer are.”
But that's every big change, not just this one, and every part of being alive. It's hard and it's scary, and, in the end, it's always, *always* so worth it.
Fantastic article. So insightful … yet heart wrenching. My egg cracked a long time ago but I’m terrified to take the red pill.
It never gets less scary, no matter how long you wait.
It's worth it, though.
If I were young (pick any “young “ age), at this particular time with all the wonderful medical advances, the choice would actually be far easier. But here I am at 67 with two adult children and 3 grandchildren that I adore…I am so afraid of blowing everything up and being alone for my final years. This family is very conservative. I don’t know how as I certainly have never espoused anti-trans sentiment for obvious reason. I am so deeply saddened that it’s as if I am sadly waiting for some ending with this in hopes that I get a fair and proper redo.
Honey, I know several trans folks who transitioned in their 60's, and who are living joyful lives now. It's actually one of the more common times for folks to transition.
This was written by a trans gal who felt a lot like you, and who got a cancer diagnosis. I think you'd be really well served by reading what she wrote, and thinking hard about the regrets she had: https://www.reddit.com/r/asktransgender/comments/88t6sg/some_tips_from_a_58_years_old_dying_trans_woman/
And, yeah, while it would've been happier to transition younger, to get more time in life as yourself, wouldn't it be better to get SOME shot at it now, rather than to be on your deathbed in twenty years, with nothing but regrets and might-have-been's?
One last thing: trans identities are 30-50% genetic. That means there's a real chance one of your kids is also trans, also trying to bury it. That one *or more* of your grandkids is too.
It's not too late. There are no redos. You only get one shot at life.
You coming out now could save them from finding themselves in your position when they make it to your age.
Thank you for the link and your kind support.
I'm 54. I'm married but I don't have any kids; so my situation is not yours.
I've met a woman in this rural area of the Midwest I live in that transitioned at age 50 in 2000. She's 75 now. She started her transition when her wife developed a terminal illness. She decided she couldn't cope with the stress of that on top of the stress she felt trying to live this life she had a man. Her wife supported her.
However that year she lost her wife, her business, her kids, grandkids, and the rest of her family who all blamed her for her wife's death.
She would do it again and has no regrets.
I wonder how confused some cis people must get, when they hear our stories and we express so much joy while we describe all the pain we have suffered.
Many of our stories don't sound like happy stories. They are trans stories. They are *happier* stories.
I don't know if it is worth it to you. I'm still so new at this, and I don't know how to describe how I feel now compared to before; but there are no consequences I could have suffered that would have made me less happy now than I was before.
No mistake though it hasn't all been fun. A lot of pain right alongside the joy. Not all tears will be joyful.
For me, knowing what I know now, I would lose everything else in my life but this.
This is absolutely beautiful.
This is an amazing article. This month (September) was 8 years since I started my public transition by changing my name on Facebook. I remember then that I was making a huge mistake, but turns out I didn't. From that point to my recent gender affirming procedure back in July, nothing I've done have been mistakes, nor do I have regret.
I needed to be reminded again how far I've come and how much of it was because I decided to believe and trust in myself. (though I'm having a hard time doing so right now, but I'm improving, or so I'm told.)
Reading this when I'm being philosophical about starting my second year on my resumed journey. And yes, it hits home with me.
I think the strongest aspect about my retransition is the feeling of "let's get ON with it", that I need to make up for that lost time. At the same time, I'm far happier and healthier than I have ever been in my life. I LOVE the strong, smart, clever, determined woman I'm becoming.
Yeah, that sense of lost time was hard for me too. I'm glad you feel like you're making the progress you need, though!
Yep. I've accomplished SO much since I sent you that message spring of last year. :)
That's so wonderful to hear! 🥰
Also:
January is my consultation for FFS.
And I just was told by my primary care physician that she will be happy to make a referral for an orchiectomy.
Progress.
Omg YAY!! FFS was so life-changing for me. I can't wait to hear how it goes for you.
Nine years after the first, tentative, leap and I'm still leaping
It gets easier and easier each time, doesn't it?
Seven league boots FTW 🎸
When you say, “all I can find are non-transitioners who are coping” do you think it’s possible that we can choose not to transition and be content? Or are we truly doomed to feel worse and worse till we die?
For clarity: I didn't say that. Amanda Roman said that.
I know several non-transitioning trans people who are, to the best of my understanding, quite happy as they are. And yes, there's a huge asterisk to that statement: they are enbies, do not experience physical dysphoria, and their presentation and gendered experience in the world gels well enough with their experience of gender that they don't really get any social dysphoria.
If a person persistently wants to transition, that desire is a reflection of a deep-seated need to live authentically. And, like an unmet need for air or water, not meeting it will make you more and more desperate until you do.
So, if what you're really asking me is, "as a person who wants to transition but is fighting to not/to repress, if I don't transition, will I just feel worse forever until I do?" Well, I don't have a crystal ball. I can't tell you your personal future. Is there *some* chance that you'll feel better someday? Of course. The world is chaotic and random. There's always a chance.
But the odds are, very strongly, that the answer to your question is yes.
That's why it's a leap of faith either way. One way, you rearrange your life in the hope it'll be better. The other, you're hoping on a very small chance that all this will just blow over.
Only you can know which is the right leap for you to take.