Body Image

Feels like, I am mentally walking down a hall of mirrors, you will find at any local fair, mixed among the games of skill and chance, in the Fair's midway, whose mirrors distort our perceptions of, our body's image. For most Transpeople, this is part of our daily lives, when the image we have, of our bodies and what the mirror reflects, back to us. I will not say all, because there might be a few, who disagree with me, on this. In our mind's eye, we see ourselves, with a fully curved feminine body, or a fully muscular masculine body, which the medical community, views this type of thinking, as straddling the border between several image disorders and a healthy view of one's body. I know, this type of thinking, is not just limited to Transpeople, but widespread throughout society.

Personally, I wish my own battle with poor body image, weren't as bad, but I know, the truth on this matter. Having gone to bed, crying myself to sleep, over how I see myself, as a hideous monster, no matter, what others tell me. I will explore some of my body issues, in the next monologue, hoping to find a salve to apply over the burns from these inner fires that rage across my soulscape, consuming all.

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Body Image

We have all heard or know of someone, who is or has gone through a "midlife" crisis, as they start to realize their own mortality and start to question, their own lives and existence, by engaging themselves, in various activities, attempting to recapture their lost youth. What if, you are six, seven or eleven years old, when you realize, there is something, seriously wrong with your own body? When you look at your body, you see a hideous monster, standing before you, with the wrong genitalia, having a penis instead of a vagina or vice versa, in the image reflected back, in the mirror. Yet, unable to explain this, to yourself or to anyone else, beyond the fact, you are in the wrong gender, which the medical community identifies these feelings, as gender identity disorder (GID).

I do know, the very traumatic pain of being trapped, in the wrong gender, feeling helpless, to do anything physical about it. Short of, having to bankrupt myself, while tens of thousands dollars are spent, on costly medical and cosmetic procedures and drugs for Hormonal Replacement Therapy (HRT). Emerging from it, close as possible, in a female body, without any negative side-effects, like diabetes, deep vein thrombosis, heart disease or an allergic reaction, to the medication used, as part of the HRT. Worse, forced to pay, again, for a second SRS, because, of complications, arising in the surgical aftercare, which results from a surgical mistake, of making my vagina, too big or too small, or not removing all of the pubic hair from my scrotum, in the creation of the vagina from it. But, I am getting ahead of myself, here.

Sigh. Looking back over my life, I realize there has never been a moment, which I haven't felt, some type of hatred, regarding my own physical body. Often wishing, to find a way that my body could have the proper parts, instead of the genetic defects, which is currently, located between my legs. Constantly, on the outlook for any talismans, that could trigger the change to occur, whenever I am. Magically removing any physical traces of my life, as a male, replacing it, instead, as a female.

I have told, some of my health care providers, that I am willing to undergo any risky procedure or treatment, if it would guarantee me, a life, as a woman. Even if, this meant that my life could abruptly end, in less than a year, as the results of the toxic side-effects from the procedure. Honestly, what is the difference between being a volunteer to a risky experiment, or take my chances that my body will not deteriorate to the point, I am medically rejected for SRS? I only get one chance, at this, why can I not live my life to the edge and push the envelope, a bit? Did I not, sign a waiver form, removing any legal or medical responsibility from my doctor, when I started my Male to Female (MTF) HRT program?

Jokingly, but, in a serious manner, I have asked, a few friends, if they would operate on me, to remove my testicles. Often ending, like along these lines, I wouldn't like the suturing up afterwards. Like me, they are also transgender. Else, I ask, one friend, if he would like to swap our genitalia, his vagina for my penis? Damn it, I struck out, again. Well, a girl gotta ask. Even mentioned the jokes, to my nurse, who has handled my file since October 2007, when I was searching for a family doctor, to handle my transition, playing phone tag for several months, until she managed to find an opening for me.

Have to admit, there are times that I thought of, cutting myself open and attempt to perform an orchiectomy upon myself. (An orchiectomy is the medical procedure for the removal of my testicles.) Yes, I know that, this is a fantasy and will never happen, in a million years, but reflective of my hatred towards my own male body. But the impulses to change my defective body grows, the older I get, especially, with the medical history of being diabetic and a family history of heart disease, on both sides of the family tree.

There are two very important reasons, I could never do this, one; I cannot stand the sight of blood, even if, it is my own. Forced to look away from the TV, or cover my eyes with a hand, while watching a scene, involving blood. Peeking between the fingers, hoping that the scene is over.

Secondly, it could remove, any chances that I have, at getting the SRS done. Some surgeons prefer to do, the orchiectomy, themselves, and not operating over someone else work. Personally, I have too many scars upon my body, as is. Besides, the facial scar on the corner of my mouth, I have a very nasty 10 cm (4 inch) scar, on the right side of my groan, which occurred when I was 16 years old. The doctors thought that I might have testicular cancer on my right testicle, given the growth located there. Looking back, I wish they found cancer there, forced to remove my right testicle, instead of the water sac. Least, that way, I would get some benefit, out of the painful recovery, afterwards. Still remember throwing up after coming to, in my hospital room, shivering at the memory.

Another issue, which I have, concerning my body, is my weight. When I look at myself, I see a beached whale walking on two legs. Yeah, not the most positive image to have, but true. Various people have told me, I was getting skeletal, when my weight dropped to 140 lbs. from 160 lbs. The dropped body fat would be needed by my transition, as my body got curvier and my breasts grow. In my mind's eye, I looked the picture of health, for a diabetic, pre-op Transwoman. Being diabetic, I have a monthly weigh-ins with a nurse, who uploads my glucose monitor, into a database, tracking my glucose levels. Mentally, I whip myself, if I have gain any more weight, during these weigh-ins, or if my glucose levels averages have gotten worse.

Not sure, if I should call this, a genetic blessing or curse from my dad, having his thick dark, coarse hair, which grows like an out-of-control weed. Was told, when I start my HRT, my hair would slow down, in its' growth rate. Discovering, my body hair is, either disappearing or slowly getting blonder, is one of my happiest memories, I have. Hard to imagine, but I swear, the hair on my scalp, has increased its' rate of growth, and growing at a faster rate, before this. Over the past few months, it has dramatically changed from its normal dark brown colour to a lighter shade, as it gets finer and smoother, at the same time.

Sadly, HRT can't make my facial hair disappear into thin air. Talk about a pipe dream comes true, if that could happen. But, it did slow the growth rate down, from getting a "5 o'clock shadow" at noon, it now happens around 4 pm. Ok, I am exaggerating the differences, but it has been a minute changes on that front. Not looking forward, to the expensive cost of electrolysis or laser hair removal, like I have a few hundred dollars lying around, doing nothing, right now. Though, once removed, I can look into a mirror and not shudder, at the image reflected back. Small step, but a huge advancement, regarding, my control over my negative self-image.

Even before I started HRT, I was told by another Transwoman, I was lucky to have a very fem nose, as she had just spent, $10,000 (in 2007 $CDN) on her own nose job. And that my nose would cost a woman, $7,000, to reconstruct, a matter-of-fact statement, which had left me, in shock. More importantly, I don’t have an “Adam’s Apple”, which gives away many Transwomen, unless they can hide it or have it shaved. Costing them, several thousands of dollars and two weeks of recovery, afterwards, as the swelling diminishes, back to normal, leaving a faint scar upon their throats, where the operation occurred.

Know any surgeries changing my appearance, don't address my many deep rooted psychological issues that I have, with my body and self-image, possibly, worsen the existing problems. By working on these issues, whether my counsellor or a cognitive reinforcement program, will I be able to remove, some of the root causes of my depression and anxiety, allowing me, to accept to myself, with a positive body image, reflected back, when I look in a mirror. Filled with confident, who I am, as a person, which happened, surprisingly, one morning, in November 2010.

Author's Note

After almost 5 years of taking estrogen, my facial hair growth has slowed to the point that I can shave every 3rd day, before it becomes visible, to the naked eye.