Alterations

Of course that photo is scary. I mean who wants some ego maniac slicing into you with reckless abandon. Ok that is a nutty picture, I know. And it is not how I really feel about it, trust me. Although I will say in my survey of surgeons who make most of their living "helping" girls like me look like the women we should have been, they are for the most part requiring very little enhancement of their own self opinion. In my experience, true to form for the breed. It takes a special bravado to have the confidence to cut somebody else.

Let's face it (pun intended), if you are considering this kind of thing you are basically saying to another human being, please make me over in your image of what a woman should be. Realize that their image may likely be different than yours. And no matter how valid, or amazing that image is, it is indeed theirs. You are about to yield your future to this person. Yes, they are likely well trained, well experienced, and well known. But at the end of the day, you are putting the whole deal in their hands.

For me that will happen in October. I go for FFS. I know many folks focus on the so called bottom surgery (SRS, GRS, GCS, M-O-U-S-E) as the demarcation of transition to their trueselves. But I think that transition event for me is in October with my mug. I have mixed emotions about that. For one it spells the point where I will probably no longer be able to fake being a dude. Yes I know, you are saying that my "dude impression" is now an epic fail. But reality is I have been pulling it off, folks always seem surprised when I come out.

There are some girls that have told me that I do not need this. That I "pass", or blend. That I look like somebody's mom. And in many ways that is what my goal was all along, CEO soccer mom. I did have a vision of me. I got most of it so far. I have had purists say I am bending to societal norms, and things like, "Most natal women could benefit from FFS". Or "You are obsessed with conforming to the the gender binary." This may all be true. But I did not embark on this journey to prove a point to anybody but me. And my goals are simple. Live a normal life. Or as normal as a transwoman can in in our part of the world in the second decade of the 21st century.

I recently saw another therapist because that is what the "rules" say you have to do if you want to move forward with all of this. I find it ironic that you have to "prove" you are sane, saner that most people, before you can do your bottom. And yet for the face, there is nothing. And despite the rhetoric, the face is the thing that will change your world the most. I suspect the hoops are to make the male dominated medical community comfortable. I keep looking for the whole, whoops I made a mistake crowd. They do not seem to be around. This second therapist, a nice person, asked me "What are your expectations?". I asked with respect to what? I think he was confounded by my response. He said "surgery". I asked which surgery? Again the bottom was the focus. Interesting.

So I told him the bottom is not the big thing. The face is. I told him my expectation was simple. Sunday morn, no makeup, to the store, buy a paper, "Here's your change ma'am". That is it. Period. Would more than that be great? You bet, but I do not expect it.

He went on about dilation and how I would have to do that from now on. I told him yeah, and that I will need to shower and brush my teeth everyday too. I wonder if sometimes the grilling is to make everybody else at ease. I am going to say yes. I do not know a post-op transwoman that does not make comments on dilation. Not because it is a problem but because it takes time out of their day. And in that sense, it is a "pain".

I posed a question to my primary therapist about "regrets". Mind you she has been practicing for something like 25 years in this space. So she has seen a lot of "us". I asked her, do you know anybody that de-transitioned. Meaning, after surgery decided whoops. She said no. Do you know anybody that had remorse or regrets, she said yes. That most regretted not doing it sooner in their lives. And that even those folks that had lost everything, work, home, family still had to move ahead and still regretted not moving on this sooner.

I am not a shrink. I do not even play one on TV. But my thoughts are that given that kind of experience how often do mistakes really get made? I suspect much less than getting the wrong operation in the hospital, or botched anesthesia, or goofed blood test or prescription errors. And you know those happen, my guess is with a lot more frequency that you want to know. But because this is about gender everybody is scared. Interesting (yeah I know I used it twice now).

And so my time draws near. I still have a lot of coming out to do. Coworkers/employees/customers/kids school/etc. That is what the next few months will be about. But by LifeDay I will be complete enough to live something like an authentic life. The rest will come in time.

Seventy Five Dollars

A note to all. I originally wrote this post in Nov of 2009. I have waited until now to publish it because a number close friends used the services physician mentioned. I am happy to report that their surgeries were complete and they are all recovered with satisfactory results. I waited in part as I did not want to create a potential for backlash. Nor am suggesting that surgeon would have been anything less than professional in dealing with those girls. I felt I needed to finally publish this, not as sour grapes but, just as my own personal experience. Your mileage may vary.

--Sharon

I do not know if I will ever post this but I am going to write it to get it off my so called chest. Yesterday was kind of a disappointing day for me on this road less traveled. Some months ago I made an appointment with, by all reports, a skilled surgeon who lives in the same timezone as me. To be exact a little under three hours away by car, on a reasonable day. I had heard and had come to think of her as "The One". Like some character from the Matrix, or more recently the new Prisoner miniseries. I was wrong.

See -- for those of you who know me well, I can admit when I am wrong about something after all. Yes, I know, hard to believe.

In this case I did not see it coming. Now before I go on about it I do not want you get the the wrong impression of my mindset on things. I know that surgeons, regardless of gender, tend to be self assured and a bit cocky. They typically are not known by their bedside manner. And if you are skilled, then you probably do not need to be known for that. They, afterall, are cutters. They cut. it is what they do. So I was not alarmed the first few times I met this person at various conferences. She was frank, to the point, blunt even. This works for me, I am a business person, a CEO if you must know. But what happened on my visit was surprising to me.

Often on this road there are so many little things, that on their own are nothing. But the sum of them adds up. Remember a ton of feathers still weighs a ton. And this was the case for me.

I arrived at the office and was presented with forms and paperwork. Not a surprise, most doctors want their litany of paper filled out. What bugged me was I had sent the information on those forms months ago. "They" changed the format of the form. They asked me to fill out the papers again. To make it easier, they had my original form, with all my data on it. So I got the job of copyist. Seems silly but I do not know why they could not have sent me the forms in advance but I have learned something about doctors and lawyers of late. Only their time is valuable, not yours.

So this is a nusance at best, and you are probably saying, what a whiner you are Sharon. You would be right, that is whiney, and if it was the only goofy thing I would have never have written this down in the first place. But in the immortal words of Ron Popeil, "But wait, that's not all!".

I sat in the consult room for a few moments and "my" physician arrived reasonably quickly (I was the only patient there). Upon entry she informed me that we would probably have to do the consult quickly as she had a family matter to attend to. In this case an ultrasound of her unborn children. I thought that was fine, I recalled doing the same.

However what I do not recall is telling somebody that drove for three hours to a business meeting, who is seeking major body modifications that I would perform that I would have to hurry up our meeting because I have someplace else to go. Oh right, I am not a doctor. Sorry I forgot.

I figured well that seems odd. I mean if my appointment would be truncated I would have hoped she, or staff, might have the courtesy to call and tell me, hey before you come on up, she is gonna have to bolt. And then give me the option of rescheduling or taking what I can. Not so this day however.

She says, we have met before, I say yes. In Chicago. She thumbs through a chart, she says I must have some notes on you then. I say good. No notes are in the file. She goes out, to find staff, comes back empty handed. (Note to self, record keeping not so good here, hmm) So I get to tell the story again with her in Otto-esqe ways (A Fish Called Wanda) saying "yeah, right, next". We get close to caught up. And then down to brass tacks.

Now I will admit I have "had" medical issues, however they have been treated, and I have recovered fully. I go to this slacker outfit in Baltimore, Hopkins, maybe you have heard of it. But "whatever". But she says it this way "Well you have a lot of medical issues you know..." Let me break the code on that one, don't sue me if things don't go well for you because I told you that you have a lot of medical issues.

She's right, up to a point. I am not 32 years old, I do not run marathons, I do not have a BMI of 23 (go here to figure that out yourself). I guess one way to make sure your statistics are good is only do surgery on young healthy people. But OK, her point is taken. By the way I prefer this calculator to the others. It accounts for your gender, and age and other stuff... As to me, i have passed all of the stress tests folks, with normal fitness. When asking my Cardiologist how long will I now live, he asks is 40 or 50 more years ok? Anyhow I pass on arguing it.

She says "you are fat". Nice thing to say to somebody who has lost 65lbs in the last year. But ok I have been "fat" for most of my adult life, so not a news flash, thanks. We talk about the abdomen, she says I have "intestinal fat", nothing she can do for me. I will just have to lose it, like the rest. I am beginning to get a picture here. Salad only, for the next 40 years. So be it.

So no curves for me, or at least none that can be "(wo)man made". That sucks, but I guess it is a feature of being trans. Hey you know what, so be it, at least I got that much of an answer for my money.

I will not go into the details of our discussion except for two bits. Mind you we are going a breakneck pace. Most of my questions have the question, and then parts A, B, C and D plus a follow up on that alphabet soup. I am only getting the question out before she is changing the topic.

I ask about FFS, and note there are almost no photos on her website of it. She says she does a lot but nobody wants their photos used. She gets a laptop, and shows me one set of before and after photos of a woman in her 60s (or so it seems). You know what, she looks better, really she does. But there is only one example provided. She says she has more on her desktop machine, I suggest we finish our conversation and then look quick, she says there will not be time.

Eventually we get to the topic of SRS, GRS, GCS, M-O-U-S-E, stuff. We talked about sex early on, she liked my story there, as do I at the moment. But she is clearly wanting to leave now. I pose the, "is there enough material question", she says, with out an exam, you will be fine. I make a face. She says ok, we will look. I drop trou, and she says stand up. I do and she glances from across the room. You will be fine she says. I am a bit taken back.

It then dawns on me. She really does not "want" me as a "customer". I am too particular or something. Or perhaps it is that I came to her to discuss the thing, and not simply put the calendar on the wall, throw a dart and say, I will have it all done on this date. I am a future, she does not really want to work on me unless I am a 50 year old tri-athlete or something. Ok I get it but gee.

After the crotch glance we are done. I go to the front desk, she is grabbing her coat. She tells me on the way out that since we were rushed she has discounted the consult fee from $150 to $75. Ow, salt in the wound. My take on that, as a business person. It sends the wrong message, it did to me. Whenever I have to discount after the delivery of a service it meant I was trying to sooth the customer for either an unmanaged expectation, or I (we) fucked up somehow, and I am trying to make amends. It means the job done, was less than it should be.

To which, as I am now walking to my car, I wonder, well what if these unborn twins sneeze or something on the day of my surgery. Do I end up with the "Walmart Vagina" because it was time to get to the pediatrician? The thought of that left me cold. In my business, if you do not focus on the customer, when you are with them, you lose that customer. They walk away, they want your full attention, and probably deserve it. If you are not offering the attention it is a clear sign that you are not really interested in that business. So be it. I can vote with my feet.

So the value of my 6 hours of driving, and day off from work is $75. I guess it paid for the gas to get there. And I guess it will pay for the gas to the airport as the next person I will talk to on my short list will require a flight someplace. Before I go though I will see if they have some forms that they want me to fill out first.

Vernacular

So first off let me apologize for not posting in some time. The reasons are many, and I will not go into a lot of them suffice to say that they involved legal counsel and courtrooms.

I note that we transpeople spend a lot of time on learning to blend in (note I did not say "pass"). We focus on appearance first, then things like voice and mannerisms, etcetera. There are some of us that fool everybody most/all of the time. There are others, well, let's just say, not so much. I had taken some pride in the fact that even though I am a large woman the vast majority of places I go I am perceived as just that, large. Mind you I did not say "fat". Of course I could stand to lose some weight (who wouldn't) but my point is I am merely perceived by folks as that tall "broad". You know the must have played roller derby, or womans professional football or something. I have decided I can live with that. I almost never get the dreaded "Sir" in public, and lately even less so on the phone. This is all good stuff. I seem to be blending. Or so I thought.

I recently found myself on an outing with my very close friend "B". "B" who is also trans is now full time and works in an office with lots of other folks (thousands), and by very nature they are of both genders (wow go figure) so she has made friends with some number of natal women. All of whom knew her, or of her before transition. Attending the venue in question was myself and "B" and her friend from work "K". Are we good so far?. And "K" invited her friend "G". Now if it was not clear "K" and "G" are both attractive natal women (ANWs). And so I found myself in a GNO (Google it) with trans and non-trans women. Kind of a first for me. Ok not just kind of. For real a first.

And of course one of my questions of "B" was, what do the "ANWs" know about me? She told me, they know we are both trans. Now this is a big question because it can control the tenor of the conversation that happens when the four of us are chatting. Meaning I do not have to hide, not that I might do that but it also means I do not have to hide for "B" either. And so I came into the situation wide eyed with expectation.

The venue in question is one of those summer time outdoor pavilions for a concert, the sort where folks collect on the lawn, spread blankets and eat eclectic foods and drink wine before going into the pavilion. And thus I found myself on a blanket with 3 other women eating and drinking. As is my habit when meeting new people I prefer to listen more than talk and my dialog is usually in the form of the interrogatory. And so it started.

Of course I foolishly wore a skort to the event. Note to self, when sitting on blanket, trying to look comfy (which it is not) and demure, wear shorts, or jeans next time. And so I had a "how the hell do I sit here" issue. That was my first fail. The second fail was in the conversation. I discovered that my ability to speak English was coming up short. Now that is the funny part. Aside from a 3 year stint of high school German and a smattering of household Spanish, English, or more accurately 'Merican, has been my native tongue since birth. Unfortunately for me I have apparently yet to completely master the female version of the language. And it became quite obvious to me.

Let me be clear. I am not talking about my voice. I have been to therapy for that for a year and got told by the therapy folks. "You have graduated." In fact they in-so-much as told me you are a great example for others. I know. Very heady indeed. They further told me my next stop might be a voice coach or drama teacher. Cool. My voice passes. But this situation was entirely new to me. Here I was looking ok, blending in with hundreds maybe thousands of people and I was stumbling for words. I did not know the protocol.

Let's see if I can provide an analogy. It was was as if I was born in Germany, so my family and heritage is German. Then was plucked to the USA at a young age, grew up and took high school and college German and then for the first time went to Germany for a visit. Although I could understand the German with ease and communicate with them I still have an American accent. That accent will be hard to eradicate. Even if I spend a decade in Germany, it is going to take me some time to remove all traces. Get it now?

So despite my best efforts to speak "female". I will always have traces of a male accent. And my take is that the only cure, or way to improve that, is by full immersion. And there is the rub...

If you are trans, and you work, and you work in an office where there are a reasonable number of accepting co-workers (dare I say supportive) undoubtedly some of them are natal women. And if you are able to through that environment, or other women's groups, or just by luck of association find yourself in the company of natal women regularly then perhaps, just perhaps you get the chance to hone your girl accent.

I made this realization on the eve of my own transition to full time (less than 60 days now) and I find that I am wanting. I want to have more natal female friends and mentors. Do not get me wrong, I have made some awesome female transwomen friends. I love them all dearly. I am saying I need to augment that space with a collection of natal women. And that can be a tall order if you work from home as I do. In fact in my little company of 35 there are only 3 other women. That is not a good pool to plan on. And so now I find I am in a search. A search for venues where women like me (no not trans you dolt) who are in their 40s and 50s, who are in business or professional life, who have interests like mine, are frequenting. And I will tell you the truth, I have no idea where to start.

I suppose there are women's groups around. Book clubs, social clubs, professional organizations. And I would need to penetrate these places but would need to do so as a transwomen first of course. So admission is probably a challenge to start with. Let alone developing friendships, and then those kind of friendships where somebody would feel comfortable enough to tell you "you are doing it wrong". Sounds like a long road.

So my challenge is to learn, or perhaps re-learn, the vernacular of my native tongue. I am unsure as to how to really do it but I suspect like so many other things in life it is something that you simply undertake by actually getting started. Absent that there is usually no forward progress. I know that being full time will be step one. And that is on my radar now, so away I go. And I am hoping I can learn to speak "girl" and it's higher dialect "woman" before the end of my days.