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Queer as me – Part 38: Explanations and hopeful answers

Queer as me – Part 38: Explanations and hopeful answers

This post is PART 38 in a guest blogger series following author Rachael's transition from an A.M.A.B (Assigned Male at Birth) individual to that of a self-identified trans woman.

If you are just discovering Queer as me, start the story from the beginning here.



I sat down in the chair provided, taunt like a guitar string, vibrating slightly like I had just been played. They both introduced themselves. Ah ha, one was the doctor I needed to see and the other was a doctor that was interested in learning to help people like myself in the future. Well, I was as ready as I could be. The first question actually startled me. He asked about my life, not about why I thought I was Trans. So I told him everything. I know it was repetitive, but I also knew that it was important for the doctor to get some sense of who I was as a person. I explained the time in the hospital, and what I learned there. I also told him that I had read everything I could on Transgender from all the online resources I could find. He laughed, and said that I probably know more than he did.



Oh no, was I mistaken? Maybe he wasn’t the one that could help me. Then he apologized and said that he didn’t have time to read the most current information on transgender issues, but that he was well qualified to render assistance to those who believe that they’re Trans. Whew, well you’re my best shot at getting hormones I said. He asked, why would I wish to get on hormones right away? I explained again about the testosterone therapy, and how I needed to know if it would affect me the same way. He thought that it would have a calmer effect on my body, because if I was Trans, the estrogen would be what my body had been needing all my life. We discussed my requirement of living one year as my preferred gender and asked when I started cross dressing.



Cross dressing? I wasn’t a cross dresser doctor, if I did wear any clothes, they were my gender. He laughed and said of course. What he meant was that, when the first time I wore clothes that society calls “girl clothes” did I feel better? I said it did give me a calming effect on me yes, but that I had only done so a few times when I did, and never in public. As well, I was only twelve at the time, and didn’t understand why it felt that way, until of course now it was plainly obvious. Well, as he excused himself with the other doctor, he asked if I need a bottle of water or anything? It would just be a few minutes while they conferred. As my throat was dry from again talking for about a solid hour, I thanked him for the offer. When the door closed I sat there thinking, worrying if I said enough, or maybe too much, I was quite the bundle of nerves.



When you are waiting on something as important as a medical opinion or diagnosis, time seems to crawl, and this was no exception. I swear that they were gone half an hour or more, but when they returned it had only been fifteen minutes by my watch. He sat down and smiled, and said that he would give me the referral to get started on estrogen. I’m sure that I looked like the Cheshire cat, with the smile that was on my face with those words.



He would also give me a letter to get my identification gender marker changed and a letter proving that I was living my RLE (real life experience) for one year. As he stood he said he would see me in six months to see how I’ve progressed and that I could call and make an appointment if I required to see him sooner. I thanked him profusely and almost floated out of his office. I couldn’t stop smiling. Finally, finally, I can start being me. The relief was tremendous, laughing I walked out of the building into a beautiful sunny day.


I felt fabulous.






Editor’s Note: To read Queer as me – Part 39: Hormones, click hereOr click here to read the previous blog post Queer as me – Part 37: Anxiety, Nah, I mean what could go wrong? For the latest LSOP blog posts and so much more, make sure to add us on Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram.


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