Damn Hormones

I haven't written for awhile here in Cyrsti's Condo about my involvement with feminine hormones.  To be sure, it's been a rocky affair, with plenty of blind corners and unexpected results.

I guess since my recent brush with discontinuing my hormone replacement therapy all due to health concerns, has brought taking the life altering meds back into focus.

Many people over the years have asked about the process. First of all, most of all the usual changes in skin, breasts, hair etc, started taking effect for me relativity quickly. I would say in the first six months. However, as time passed on, the changes began to slow and all of a sudden, I was looking at 4 plus years on HRT.

Looking back, the biggest change over the years had to be the emotional roller coaster ride I experienced.  I think perhaps the emotional ride contributed to extra problems when I was in the middle of negotiating a particular difficult bout of gender dysphoria.

It was during that time I have considered re-evaluating the whole gender process I was going through. Calmer minds prevailed though.

Here's an example of the effect feminine hormones have on me. Yes, I cry but mostly when good things happen (especially during football games when Liz is making fun of me.) Yes, I have my own modest sized breasts which seems to fascinate some people. My skin is softer than it has ever been and am slowly and surely developing hips.

I an truly fortunate to be able to have undertaken this gender adventure health wise.

Blue Skies?

For the first time in weeks, I am starting to feel better.

I am sure it helps that all my critical heart tests are coming back normal. Whatever normal may be for me. Of course I still have pulmonary, colon and the final (I hope) X=ray on my ankle to go.

I also had my two mental check ups the last two days. For once, I needed both of their help. It will be interesting to see if all the survey's and interviews I filled out with the VA are effective. I wasn't in the best state of mind when I did them.

Included in my conversation with my therapist was my unfortunate cross dresser ugly interaction.
Which Connie commented on:

 "Are you saying that, if you spent a whole lot of time worrying about what others think of you, you'd still be cross dressing, yourself? I remember having the revelation that I was cross dressing, but I had come to know that I wasn't a cross dresser. Had I continued to be afraid of what others would think of me, should I transition, I would have retreated back to the closet completely. There's nothing wrong with cross dressing, but it tends to lead to frustration, eventually, if one is not a cross dresser. It's like being a singer who is only allowed to lip-synch or, at best, nailing it at karaoke.

Hmm, maybe I have just pissed off a few cross dressers, myself."

I meant if I worried about transitioning as a transgender person into a feminine life as far as what others thought, I would have never done it. So, I agree with you, I would have found a closet that eventually would have killed me. 

As far as cross dressers, or anyone else goes, I try my best not to stereotype.  Which I guess I failed at miserably Saturday night.  This comes close to saying it all.

Lost

Well, last night I lost an election to the board of the transgender - cross dresser support group I am part of.

I am not really too torn up about it, as during the meeting I remembered how mind numbing boring a board meeting could be.

I think too, I lost votes because of my Facebook tirade Saturday against an old cross dresser I have known for about thirty years. After the cross dresser made a big deal out of the clear blue sky to praise resident rump and all his policies I told another friend of ours what I felt about the cross dresser. I wasn't kind and said something to the effect the cross dresser didn't care about the long (and short) terms of what the current administration is doing to the transgender community because he didn't have a dog in the fight anyway. Unfortunately, I didn't say it that nicely and now I have several cross dressers in the group who hold a grudge against me now.

But...if I spent a whole lot of time worrying about what people think of me, I would be in a whole different spot now anyhow.

They will get over it.