Below the waist. My feet, like my hands, are slightly bigger than I’d like, hairier than I’d like, but I can’t really complain. They’re not huge, it’s occasionally obnoxious to find shoes in my size but never impossible, and hair removal has thinned much of the worst growth. I still have some patches around my ankles that I need to shave when I shave my legs, but no body is perfect. My legs rival my chest and face for the most dramatic success of hair removal. I shave my legs, much more in warm months, but don’t grow the same thick brambly forest that I used to. As of today, I haven’t shaved my legs in at least a month, and while they’re hairy compared to my shaved-this-morning face, they’re night and day compared to when I was in high school, pre hormones and hair removal. My legs are, like my arms, places of strength. I don’t run – it hurts my knees – but I bike and walk and swim and climb ropes and trees and lovers. I’ve been working on strengthening my hips, something a physical therapist said would help my knees, but don’t have much to complain about.
At the same time, my legs and arms have shrunk the most over the course of my transition. I joke that, since going on hormones, I’ve gone up two cup sizes without gaining any weight. All that mass, my previously mentioned boobs, had to come from somewhere – lots of it came from now-departed muscle mass in my arms and legs. I’m still stronger than lots of my girl friends, who knows whether as a result of testosterone or simply genetics, but decidedly less strong than I was before hormones. I’m not complaining, however, other than the occasional struggle at circus or the gym. But no pain, no gain. Or something.
This is part one of a writing exercise about body mapping. Stay tuned for part two.
My fingers are a gateway to the world. Typers of words, feelers of skin, players of keys, graspers of all that is in reach. They are long and neither slender or fat, but finger-sized. They have hair between the first and second knuckles, between where they connect to my hand and where they bend. The hair has been hit by lasers, plucked by tweezers, shaved by blades, but still it grows back. Less and less with hormones and lasers and frustration, but still it grows.
The thumb on my right hand is larger than that on my left. My gym teacher slammed it in a door when I was in third or fourth grade. It was an accident, and he apologized, but still told me to stop crying when I went to the nurse’s office. I needed stitches under the nail, one of the most painful experiences I’ve ever had.
When I hold my fingers up straight, palm out, the middle and ring fingers pop apart, as if in a permanent Vulcan greeting: Live long and prosper, forever. It’s kind of silly, and makes me incredibly self conscious. When I wave, I make sure to do so with fingers spread. When I hold my hand out, I either cup or spread my fingers to hide this physical quirk. It’s significantly more pronounced on my left hand, presumably because I broke those fingers flipping off my bike sophomore year of college. Ouch.
Looks so cool! I’ll be in Cali visiting family (and at a surgeon consult – eek!) but anyone in Chicago should check it out.
On behalf of SQS we are immeasurably pleased and excited to announce a joint event with the Center on Halsted called SEED: Self Education Empowerment and Defense. This wonderful workshop will take place in the John Baran Senior Center, at 5:30pm, on March 18th, 2012.
SEED is an empowering forty-five program designed for individuals of all ability, specifically for those who are trans*, queer, and/or female-identified. These communities are often the targets of physical and emotional harassment and violence. We will teach participants the skills to avoid these situations and stay safe and in control. A member from the Center’s Anti-Violence Project will speak about developing less violent and more affirming environments and relationships.
Our instructors are trans* identified individuals of color and this program will be offered in English and Spanish. Participants are encouraged to attend in comfortable clothes and be ready to transform! We are grateful for the opportunity to educate, empower, and advocate for these communities, which are too often underserved and underrepresented.
This workshop is free and open to all who wish to attend—allies included.
SQS is a fierce grassroots collective of trans* individuals and their allies from a variety of cultures, backgrounds, and experiences. We are here to serve as a force of strength and empowerment to all—and to connect individuals to community resources. Meeting in the Pilsen neighborhood of Chicago, we are dedicated to advocacy and celebrating the simple fact that we are who we are.
For more information, please contact Van Binfa at sqs_info@yahoo.com. Visit our web page at www.sqs-tec.tumblr.com. Please RSVP to June LaTrobe at jlatrobe@centeronhalsted.org to ensure sufficient resources and materials.
My parents aren’t perfect. I doubt any are. And, yet, I feel pretty lucky to have them. I’ve talked about my coming out experience, and how – even though my parents responded with love – I wish they had responded to my coming out with understanding. With the knowledge to say, “Yup. And this is what we do about that.” I wish there had been things like summer camps for trans youth, or conferences for their families, or books for parents, or any of the things that have really come to light in the last decade or so. At the same time, I feel lucky and fortunate to have the parents I do.
I was reminded about this when my mom sent me a link to a Chicago Tribune article titled Study: Family ties cut suicide rate for LGBT youth. In fact, my parents responded on a similar script to what the article suggests:
[One of the study authors] said parents can make a difference. It’s important parents respond with love and acceptance from the moment their child tells them he or she is gay, and that’s true even if parents need time to process the information.
“You can say something like: ‘I’m glad you shared that with me and I love you no matter what. This is new for me and I have to think about it, but I want you to know that I loved you before you told me and I love you now,’” he said.
This past week I was at Butler University in Indianapolis, performing Uncovering the Mirrors and leading a workshop around trans issues. Everything went really well, and I met some great people. All in all a very good trip.
During the workshop, however, something came up that I had not previously considered. Specifically, someone asked about how trans youth are (medically) treated. I said that it varies, but that there’s an increasing use of hormone blockers to delay puberty. This allows a twelve or thirteen year old to age a few years and – hopefully – be able to make a more informed decision about transitioning. In my I-am-not-a-doctor opinion, it’s a good compromise: simply doing nothing can result in spending thousands of dollars to undo puberty, but launching fully into hormone replacement therapy opens the door to a twelve year old realizing they weren’t really trans at thirteen or fourteen.
Ultimately, I said to the questioner, there isn’t a perfect solution. Once a child realizes they’re trans, it’s a matter of picking the best choice from some bad options. Which, to be very clear, doesn’t mean that being trans condemns an individual to a life of misery. But it does, as far as I can see, necessitate some tough decisions and a difficult journey.
The questioner then posed something that has been bouncing around my brain this past week: Could allowing fifteen and sixteen year olds to be making informed consent decisions about their healthcare lead to the criminal justice system saying they were able to make informed decisions about crimes, and should thus be tried as adults?
With help from the peanut gallery. This is a mix of FTM, MTF, and general silliness, so don’t try to overthinkg ‘em. Feel free to suggest more in the comments!
I really transitioned to get into bars for free, without having to pay cover.
I really transitioned because I heard there weren’t enough women in science, and I wanted to do my part.
I really transitioned so I could drink sweet pink drinks at bars without being judged.
I really transitioned because when I paint my toes pink, I want to be a boy with pink toenails!
I really transitioned so I could wear tight pants all the time without looking like a member of an 80′s rock band.
I really transitioned because I wanted to save on car insurance.
I really transitioned because the clothes are *way* better (so i still wear BDUs and t-shirts most of the time)
I really transitioned because I was born on Stonewall Day.
Thank you for joining the Cocks of Love team! Through your contribution of time and energy, we are able to offer our award-winning service to transgender and transsexual (trans) clients around the globe. In this time of economic downturn, our services are more important than ever.
What we Do
Cocks of Love is a public non-profit organization that provides body parts to financially disadvantaged trans individuals suffering from misaligned physical development for any reason. We meet a unique need for trans clients by using donated body parts to create the highest quality replacement body components
Our mission is to provide a sense of self, confidence, and normalcy to transgender and transsexual individuals by providing proper body parts for physical completeness. Our clients receive body parts free of charge or on a sliding scale, based on needs.
Our Process
Take two hypothetical clients: John and Jane. John is a trans man. He has breasts, a vagina, and reproductive organs he will not be using. Jane is a trans woman. She has body hair, muscle mass, and a penis she will not using. Cocks of Love allows us to match John and Jane and provide expert medical care for the safe and lasting swap of unwanted body parts. John ends up with the cock he’s always wanted, and Jane sports her new breasts with pride.
It’s unclear whether the State of Illinois has defined – through statute or the courts – what specifically “gender transformation operation” means. But it seems pretty safe to assume that the surgery I’m currently considering would fall under its purview. Surgery in which the “spongiform erectile tissue of the penis is removed, and the skin, with its nerves and vascular system (blood supply) still attached, is used to create a vestibule area and labia minora, which then are inverted into the neovaginal cavity created in the pelvic tissue.” That seems pretty gender transformative to me.
What’s interesting about the Illinois Comprehensive Health Insurance Plan Act (or the ICHIP Act) is what other injuries, procedures, and categories of coverage are excluded. Gender transformation operations (item 14.iv on the list of exclusions) is lumped in with cosmetic surgery (item 1), anything which exceeds “reasonable or customary” cost (item 4), injury due to war (item 9) , services that are “not provided in accord with generally accepted standards of current medical practice” (item 14), contraceptives (item 19), weight loss programs (item 21), acupuncture (22). Interestingly enough, the act itself does not, as best as I could find, mention abortion or early termination of a pregnancy, but the ICHIP website stil says such services are excluded.
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This is part one of a writing exercise about body mapping. Stay tuned for part two.
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