New Years

New Years. I spent it watching Priscilla Queen of the Desert, dancing to ABBA and watching RENT, all with my partner over Skype. I tasted expensive alcohol that tasted like mozzarella, and thought about how much has changed.

Over the course of 365 days - or 525, 600 minutes, as RENT sing – I left one relationship that I never really cared about, and entered into the best one I could ask for. I had a few hair cuts, met some wonderful people in Dartmoor, went to Sweden for a weekend, and began planning my future.

And admitted that I’m male, to myself and my partner, and my family, in a sense.

I found a name that I like, that fits me better than the old one. It feels like it’s tailored to me, like nobody else ever had it, except the character I borrowed it from. I like how it sounds, how it looks, how it isn’t normal or expected, like myself.

I got a new ring that basically signals marriage in future, began honestly thinking about surgery, hormones, Universities, marriage, kids. I went to the Harry Potter studios and saw the Hobbit, and found two wonderful friends that both understand and accept everything I am or will be.

In 2011, I’d never have believed any of that, and all events are important and dear to me.

So this, here, is a memorial to all of that, and to everything that waits. I’ve spent a while thinking things over, and come to a conclusion of what I want to have achieved by the last day of 2013.

-         Have an actual binder. Desperately. For reasons that are pretty much obvious.

-         Get to Sweden, at least once. Summer. And for New Years, if we can manage it. And Easter, though that one is still in the wings.

-         Progress in any way possible to my transition. Tell people, get school to change my name, get my friends to adjust. Soon only my family will be the ones using the other name, which will make that the one that’s a problem. Show them that it isn’t a name nobody will take seriously, because Sweden is fine with it, so is America. So is bloody England.

-         ‘You Do You’. Brian Kinney in Queer As Folk says ‘no apologies, no regrets.’ And there aren’t any better words to live by. Maybe I can’t be ‘out and proud’ at home, but I can do it anywhere else.

-         Consider applying for Uni very soon. Those who apply in October are more likely to get where they want to than those in January. It’s just next year.

-         Work hard for exams. Revise properly. Brighton only allows BBB grades; I need to get there. Failing, Mark Gatiss went to Leeds, Benedict went to Manchester. But Brighton is the dream.

-         Get a councellor or therapist. My last sucked, but there are other options. There are ways.

That’s as far as I can get. Nothing else is possible until 2014, but it’s a good list as it stands.

Until there is another chance, unless I have a sudden chance, that’s the best I can do for now. I am ‘only’ 16, after all.

Speaking of 16. I notice I've had that many page views today. Thank you! And I have readers across the ocean. You can't believe how amazing that feels, really.

Debriefing.

It’s been a while, and a lot has happened. So there will be this post, to debrief, and another to talk about the coming year.

Since my brother found out, things were alright for a while. I figured I had an ally. Turns out he was a double agent.

I worked up the courage to gather an e-mail for my parents, the words both faintly bitter and telling them directly. I included a load of links (not like the ones on my last post) that explained absolutely everything, even went to the trouble of finding them a pdf document that literally went through how to handle, what to do and say. I mentioned that I’d had to find my own councellor – backfired, she had no idea what to do with me – and said how difficult it can be to just leave my room.

If that didn’t do it, I was sure nothing would, and I was right. I got a mass of crap about nobody caring what gender I am, and refusal to address me how I want them to.

I just left it, figuring there was nothing I could do, but the next weekend they both got a little drunk at woke me at 6am with their shouting downstairs. They wished they’d never let me online, intended to spring a conversation on me without warning. I texted my brother, which seemed like a good plan, told him about my name changing that I’d intended to do in three weeks when my partner visits. He told my parents and the next evening I was called downstairs to talk to them all.

It boils down to the fact that I’m too young. Apparently. Too young to know what’s really good for me, because at my age things that seem important won’t be, later on. I’m not allowed to ‘mutilate’ my body, or modify it, because I’ll regret it down the line. And no name changing. Oh, and meet them half way on all this.

Problem being, they’ve not given me a halfway, just their way.

My mother confronted me separately, a few days before, told me not to bind, because she hates what it’s doing to me, it’s damaging, it’s ridiculous, me saying that my chest makes me uncomfortable. Even suggested it’s a mental instability.

But when it comes down to it, they still want me to be happy. Somehow.

So I’m interpreting it as follows: While parents may be correct about many things, simply because they have more experience, that is not the case when it comes to LGBT* problems, or our own bodies. They’re idiotically gender stereotypical, and selfishly don’t want to lost ‘their daughter’. Nobody can tell you what you think. I just have to hang in for a while longer. Once I hit 18, they actually have no control, and I can do anything I need to, telling them once and for all that this has been hanging over my head my entire life, and I’m sick of their lies.

Only 16 months until I’m 18. Only four until I’m old enough to fly without their need for consent, so I can run to Sweden when I need to.

It’s going to be alright, I hope. It has to be, really, there’s no way around it.

I also got some awesome support today, but more on that another day when I’ve had time to type everything together.

Coping with or Tackling Gender Dysphoria

I'm using this title in hope that people who need advice may stumble across it. I've spent hours scrolling through web pages trying to find help with these issues. And I know something like this is exactly what I'm looking for.

I'm going to put in a load of links here that have helped me. As well as it hopefully helping others, if I need to access these links away from my laptop, I'll be able to. So it's good for all, really.

These aren't specific, either. Transguys or girls can benefit from these, I think. Of course, what helps is entirely subjective, but I can only do so much.

First, I can't sing the praises of Susan's Place enough. A safe space for Trans* folk, intersex, pre or post op, anything in between to talk about all the issues that you'd usually be thinking 'it's a trans* thing' if you considered trying to explain. They have different posts for literally anything, even stuff you'd not dare to bring up yourself. I've found that looking through the posts and discussions helps because there are other people having problems, too, and we're not alone in this.

Some notes on meditation has helped me a heck of a lot. Actually, that entire blog. I think I may have mentioned ellie before, but for the purposes of people who only find this page, I'll pretend otherwise. They talk about various breathing techniques they've found that help, and books to help if you want further reading. The rest of the blog is well written, thoughtful, and just generally fascinating.

Autostraddle is actually a blog for lesbians all over the world. They cover gay topics and such, and newsworthy things that are just important (their coverage of the USA elections were particularly good). Despite happily being a gay mostly asexual transguy that's engaged to a wonderful and perfect girl over in Sweden (I never suggested I'm conforming), I actually stalk this website a fair amount. They've got two posts that help with dysphoria, and there are probably more, I just haven't found them yet. Just going through the blog itself helps me, reminds me how much good there can be in the world. But less of that, this is about you guys.
   '25 things to help dysphoria seem smaller and quieter' is exactly as it sounds. As is a 'Make-It-Better' box. I have two, and am considering a third. One goes in my school bag, and is a wooden die. I fill it with a Swedish coin, a Doctor Who badge, guitar pic, 'fairy stone', with a hole in the middle that supposedly helps you to see fairies, a few other odd little things, and a bag of earl grey tea, in case I'm desperately in need for a sit down and chill out moment. The other lives on my desk, with a glitter-made gay flag pattern on top and the promo pictures of Benedict Cumberbatch and Johnny Lee Miller's Frankenstein at the National Theatre. It reminds me that society doesn't always get it right, and even those who are perceived as monsters have their own emotions. It, too, has a Swedish coin, cinema tickets, a figurine of young Anakin Skywalker, a playing card of Loki (somebody I see as just trying to have fun, but horribly misunderstood and isolated, which led to his downfall), a small device that was once in a pen that plays out the sound of the TARDIS landing, or the old Who theme tune, and a load of other things that remind me of better times, of being happy. I can't stress enough how much having one of these around helps. Just knowing it's there, if I need it, is wonderful, and the time taken to put it together distracts you from everything else.

A good friend of mine, Ivan, wrote a poem a while ago. I'm sure he won't mind me sharing it here, since it's on his Tumblr anyway. More reminders that we're not alone in this struggle. Actually, I have a strange inkling this may have been almost directed at me.

I've mentioned before, when I found it, but there's also support for trans* folk who don't have supporting families, rather like myself. 40 moms, 40 messages is that support. Audios, videos and written pieces from mums, dads and families that take you under there wing for a few moments, to remind you that you're loved, even by those who don't know you. I was in a dysphoric place when I stumbled over this, and each message made me cry with relief.

Another 'how to cope' article, here, too. And finally, sorry ladies, here's a last tips guide. I'm sure it can still apply to trans*girls, but that wasn't the original audience, so you'll have to skip a few things.

That's all I've managed to gather, but I'll be sure to edit this accordingly if I find other sources.

Other things I've found to help are chocolate, music that you find relaxing, or a movie you connect with. For me, that's Sherlock, or Jeeves and Wooster, or all manner of gay-based films that I've mentioned in previous posts. Just taking some time alone, to think over everything. I find my thoughts drifting to when I know things will get better. For me, that's about nineteen months away, when I'll move to Brighton for Uni. I'm determined to get there, and my partner will meet me there. I can start transitioning, because I'll be old enough to tell my parents to stuff it and do what I know I've needed to all my life. I start planning what I'll leave behind, what I'll take with me. What matters, what I'll do.

It's mentioned in one of those links, but talking out loud works, too. Voicing your problems, or typing them. Stephen King talks about nobody really knowing where they stand on something until they've written it down. Getting all the pent up energy out really helps. Or writing a letter, talking about why you're feeling the way you are. Keep it, burn it, rip it up, whatever.

At the end of the day, dysphoria is down to the individual, as is how to make it go away, or even lessen it. Some things may work, some won't. But the amount of links and information, and the online community as a whole, show that it isn't something anybody has to go through alone.