Goodbye Uterus!

A few days ago I had my hysterectomy. I’m doing well, but let me start at the beginning of the whole process.

I first tried to have a hysterectomy done about a year ago, around the time of my top-surgery. I had a consult scheduled with one of the doctors at a hospital that is pretty prominent here in Central PA. I’ve been going to this hospital since I was born and have my insurance with them as well because my mother has worked there for a long time.

Now the day before my consult I got a call saying that my appointment was canceled, the reason being that the doctor felt I needed someone “more qualified.” I didn’t reschedule right away. I was actually kinda pissed. It doesn’t take much research to learn that a transgender man’s vagina is not really any different than a cis woman’s. But I suppose that doctor couldn’t be bothered to do the research. I did send them an email telling them basically that, that my vagina needed care like anyone else’s, and that I was still interested in an appointment if another doctor would be willing to see me. I didn’t hear back for a long time, but when I did they invited me to call and schedule again. I let it go seeing as how I wasn’t really looking forward to having surgery again anyway. But as my 26th birthday in March approached, I  knew I’d have to do it before I aged out of my mom’s insurance. I don’t fully know how testosterone might affect my sexual organs long term. But I do know there are some risks, such as ovarian cysts, and I didn’t want to go through that, especially if I ended up on a new insurance that doesn’t cover the surgery.

So I called, explained that I am trans and what had happened last time I tried to make an appointment. To my surprise, the woman on the phone, Mary, was very empathetic and, even better, very helpful. She went out of her way to track down a specific doctor who, as it turns out, has another transguy as a patient. She asked him while she still had me on the phone if he would see me and had me scheduled right away.

At my appointment, I brought my mother and boyfriend as support. It was a long consultation. He wanted to get to know me and my health, what I wanted out of this, why I wanted this surgery done, etc. What he said surprised me a little, and what he said is the reason I won’t give the name of the hospital or the doctor on here. He told me he thinks that I should have the surgery, and he was worried that my insurance would not cover it because I am transgender. And he basically said that he would be willing to lie about symptoms to get my insurance to cover the hysterectomy.

He said, “you’re my patient and my allegiance is to you.”

Which I thought was great. But it turns out that he didn’t need to lie. Thankfully, my insurance policy does cover transgender surgeries. (If only I had known that when I was getting top surgery. But that’s a different story and I am happy with the results I had with Dr. McGinn anyway.)

So after the second appointment where we discussed my insurance, I then had a third appointment and got a pap smear and scheduled the surgery. The next time I returned, I had a pre-op, which included blood work and instructions, and an ultrasound.

The ultrasound was interesting because the woman performing it asked me if I minded her asking me questions about being trans, which I didn’t. She apparently has a coworker friend who has a child who is possibly trans as well. The kid is 9 years old and wants to start hormone blockers. I told her I wish I had been able to do that as a kid. And I answered a few other questions. But I heard from this lady later on (because I had to return for additional scans) that she had called her friend and told her about me, and I guess what I said helped her decide to let her kid take hormone blockers. I felt pretty good about it.

So my surgery was on Sept. 26. It was a total laparoscopic hysterectomy, which I guess means they used little cameras inside to aid the surgeon. I have two little incisions on both sides near my hips. And there are stitches in my belly button. Went very well and I am healing fine I think. I don’t feel any real pain. Some stabby pains in my stomach but they aren’t so bad. I am on diclofenac (which I like to call “the dick”), acetaminophen, and oxycodone. But even when I skip them I don’t feel any terrible pain, just discomfort mostly. Actually, the worst part was the urine retention I experienced in post-op. That only lasted a few hours though and I got to go home the same day once I was able to pee again. Constipation from the meds I’m on is actually the worst part.

This surgery is actually much less painful/uncomfortable than top-surgery was. By a lot actually. I hated healing from top-surgery.

Oh, and I heard a transguy friend of mine is having an appointment with my surgeon now too for his hysterectomy. I didn’t even refer him, he just ended up with the same doctor.

And I have to say, as far as dealing with hospital staff as a transman getting a hysto, it wasn’t so bad. I got only a few strange/confused looks when I would tell people that I was there to see the gyno, or that I was a having a hysterectomy, but other than it was fine. Everyone was very nice and polite to me. A lot of people didn’t even bat an eye, didn’t treat me any different, and they all took very good care of me.

So I gotta say thanks to my surgeon, and all the staff who helped me through this, plus my dad for driving me to my pre-op appointment, and my mom for taking me to my surgery and being there for about 9 hours, and my boyfriend who wanted to be there but couldn’t because he had back surgery two weeks before my operation, and who is here for me now. We’re taking care of each other. 🙂

So all is well for now. I’m off work for a few weeks and enjoying it. Very glad that this all turned out good despite the bad start.

Thanks for reading. If anyone has questions for me regarding having a hysterectomy done, feel free to leave a comment.

 

1 Year Pre-Op (Top Surgery)

Yesterday (June 14) was one year since my top-surgery with Dr. Christine McGinn. I’ll post pictures below, but first I want to note that I am not using anything to speed the healing process. I don’t use silicone strips or ointments or anything.

The second picture is after I trimmed my chest hair.

That is my right side, which turned out a little better than the left. I think the nipple looks pretty good.

That’s my left side. The scar stretched a little bit there halfway between the nipple and armpit. The nipple is a little weird looking but not bad.

I haven’t had any issues; no reason for a revision as far as I can tell. And I always have to reiterate that Dr. McGinn was amazing, as well as her assistant and the whole staff at the Papillon Center in New Hope. I felt they took very good care of me.

I would have preferred to take these pictures outside in natural lighting, with my friend’s DSL-R camera, but I don’t think I’ll have the opportunity for that. Maybe in a month or so.

Probably in the fall I’ll be getting a hysterectomy, so I will share how that process goes. Far more nervous about that than I was about the top-surgery.

Thanks for reading. 🙂

Three Weeks Post-Op

I took this picture a little sooner than 3 weeks post-op, but it looks the same.

After two weeks, all my bandages were removed ( HUGE relief cuz I hated them) at my final appointment at the Papillon Center. The numbness and tenderness in my chest is mostly gone now. Not that I can feel much, but that it doesn’t feel so strange anymore. The nipples are scabbing now, which is normal. I was told to let them get some air, and that they would scab and then turn pink. I took all these pictures once I was able to scrub away all the ink and adhesive around my incisions.

Yeah, the nipples look kind of gross now, but Dr. McGinn and Heather told me they look really good. So I can’t wait to see how they turn out after a few months.

Soon I can put silicone strips on the incisions (but NOT on the nipples) to help them heal faster. Heather said I could even use them for a year.

Not all of my stitches are out yet, but I feel very little discomfort. I am allowed to reach above my head now, but I can’t lift anything too heavy. I’m allowed to return to work July 18. Yaay…. >_>

I do want to note that I had some severe, sharp pain in my shoulder that started about a week after my surgery. It was kind of excruciating, and mostly only flared up at night. I was able to make it bearable by taking my prescribed pain medicine and applying Icy Hot frequently. The pain got worse, remaining in my shoulder and spreading to the middle of my chest, especially when I took a deep breath. Thankfully, that all went away by the time I ran out of pain meds. I don’t know what it was. We speculated that it could have been from my posture. I was slouching a lot because of the bandages around my chest. Once they came off, it was easier to straighten up.

I have one word of advice about getting top surgery. If, after the surgery, you are not able to urinate, I suggest calling the doctor and telling them right away that you are experiencing urine retention. They will give you medicine for it. It reeeaaally sucks having a full bladder and not being able to get a drop out. And once you get the medicine, drink tons of water (which you should be doing anyway after surgery) because that medicine can give you low blood pressure, which causes bad headaches.

I also want to say that there was a lot less pain but a lot more discomfort involved in this whole thing than I expected.

But I’m really happy about my results, and so grateful for the supportive people in my life. Really wish I could go swimming soon, but I’m about 3 or 4 weeks away from that activity.

Thanks for reading. 🙂 If anyone has any questions for me about the surgery or the Papillon Center, leave a comment.

One Week Post-Op

Surgery update.

Yesterday I had my first post-op appointment from my top-surgery with Dr. McGinn.

I had my drains removed, which I had heard would feel weird and it did. I don’t know how to describe it. Maybe like something thin was tunneling out of my body. There really wasn’t much pain at all. In fact the most pain I’ve felt during this whole experience is the back pain I get from the ace bandage I have to wear and having to sleep on my back.

The ace bandage is for swelling I guess. Under that, I have Adaptec brand petroleum-based dressings on my nipples and big bandages over those, lots of ointment too. I have to protect them because they aren’t fully part of my body yet and can come off… which is gross. They look kinda gross too. I’ll have pictures below, which you can skip if that kind of stuff grosses you out.

The drain sites near my armpits also have to get ointment every day. Those hurt sometimes.

So today I am a week post-op and healing pretty well. I’m pretty sore and running out of my pain med prescription. D-X

But I’m alright. Here’s some pics from today.

 

Surgery with Dr. McGinn

Well it finally happened. I’ve been wanting this for years. June 14, 2016 I finally had top-surgery with Dr. Christinne McGinn from the Papillon Center. And I promised to share the experience.
The surgery was performed in Lower Bucks hospital. The morning before, the hospital called me to tell me when to come in: 6 am! I’m about a 3 hour drive away so we left at 2:30 am just to make sure we made it. We got to the hospital an hour early actually, before the main lobby even opened. So we waited in the ER lobby next door until we could check in at the main lobby, which, by the way, had a beautiful local artist gallery.

Main lobby: my boyfriend on the left and my friend on the right.

I noticed this magazine on the table I was sitting at. Thought it was ironic because my birth name was Kelly.

My mom started falling asleep on my shoulder while we waited.

Before surgery, we paid the hospital fees, I got blood work done, gave a urine sample, showed them my ID and we confirmed my information. I was constantly confirming my name and birthday and being asked questions about my health. I changed into a gown, robe, and long socks in a private room, where they left me to wait with a TV. All my stuff was put in a bag and locked in a cabinet in that room. Took about a half hour to 45 minutes to wait. It was at this point where it finally hit me that this was actually happening. I don’t know why it took so long for that to sink in. I guess I’ve just been waiting for this for so long it just seemed surreal. Thankfully my family was able to stay in that room with me right up until I was taken from there to the surgery prep room.

It was a long room full of other hospital beds and some other people waiting for operations. There I was asked more questions. They read off and had me sign consent forms. I was given an IV then, which is totally my favorite part… not. But Dr. McGinn was there at that point. She rubbed my feet and talked to me while the IV was being put in. She was awesome. Despite the fact that I give myself a muscular injection twice a month, needles in my veins bother me A LOT, so I was getting very nervous at that point. I’m grateful that she helped distract me.

Then they rolled me out to the operating room. “7:30!” someone shouted.

Seconds after they put the oxygen mask on me, I was out.

I woke up groaning and dizzy back in the surgery prep room. I think it was about 4 hours later. They gave me dilaudid, which was pretty strong stuff. I couldn’t lift my head or speak. I was feeling pretty sore too. I experienced some nausea, so I was given Zofran which helped immediately.
Then I went back to my private room, where my family was allowed to see me, though only 2 at a time. I got my prescriptions; vicodin for pain, and an anti-biotic. I got changed back into the clothes I came in wearing, and I did make sure to wear loose clothes: boxer shorts under comfy cloth shorts, slippers, and a soft buttoned shirt that was easy to put on with drains hanging out of me.
The drains are easy to empty too, and I have to measure and record how much comes out.
We got to leave the hospital around 1 pm, and we got into our hotel room before the check in time. I slept mostly. I think we all did. No one got much sleep the night before because of having to leave at 2:30 in the morning. I am able to eat food as I normally do, but I’m having trouble going to the bathroom. Pain meds make you constipated and I guess anesthesia makes it difficult to pee. So I take medicine for that too now. So I’m on anti-biotics, vicodin, going-to-the-bathroom medicines, and vitamins.
I’m pretty uncomfortable. The chest pain lessens and worsens at different times, but it’s the drains that hurt the most. It’s a pinching pain. The vicodin helps a lot, but the bandages around my chest are a constant irritation. It’s tight and a bit heavy, leaves a big bump on my chest.

But I’m trying not to complain too much. This surgery is gonna change my life, and I’ve been dreaming of this for years. And also, I’m just glad I can eat again. I went around 12 hours without eating, and being hungry makes me miserable and angry.

We ordered pizza from a place called “Anthony’s”. It was recommended by an employee at the Quality Inn, where we were staying. It’s very close to the hospital so thankfully it was a short ride after I got out. That’s my little sister on the left and you can see my boyfriend’s hands on the right.

We only stayed the night, though it’s recommended that you stay until the first follow up appointment. Mine isn’t until Monday though, six days after my surgery and I can’t stay in a packed hotel that long, so I’m home now.
I’m glad we don’t have to come back to the hospital. The drive was pretty irritating, mostly interstate. My follow up appointments will be back at the Papillon Center, which is in New Hope and is much easier to drive to. And it’s in an adorable community too.

.
I also have to say that everyone at Lower Bucks hospital was extremely nice. I felt very safe and cared for.

I’ll post again with an update once I get the drains out.

~ James

Papillon Consult

So I said I would talk about my consult as part of my surgery process.

First I’ll mention that I had a morning phone consult April 1st to answer some of their questions. It took about 20 minutes I think. The woman on the phone was very nice and easy to talk to. She asked me everything from “How is your support system?” to “When was the last time you had an orgasm?” I don’t know the significance of all of the questions, but I didn’t mind them anyway.

I saw doctor McGinn on April 4 at 3pm. Her office is part of a large complex of buildings, sort of like an outdoor shopping center full of suites. Most of them looked medical related though. Anyway, her office was pretty and the staff was very nice. There isn’t a whole lot of room in the check-in/waiting area. I only brought my boyfriend and my friend who is financing my surgery so we fit ok but any more would have been difficult.

I had to fill out some papers before I went in, authorizing them to speak to my family doctor and my therapist, and I gave a list of other people they would be allowed to discuss my health with.

The consult itself went well. Unfortunately I was only allowed to bring one person in with me. I would have liked to bring my boyfriend in, but I brought my financier instead because he insisted on asking a few questions. I figured I can probably bring my bf in for all the follow ups instead.

First, we talked about the surgery and a little about how it’s performed. I asked my questions. She said there really aren’t a lot of risks for this kind of surgery. And that if I need a revision it will probably be done for free, though she doesn’t expect that it will be needed.

She did tell me that there were two technical problems with my therapy letter. My therapist forgot to explicitly say she recommends me for surgery and also her signature wasn’t on it, which was actually a problem with my computer or email or something cutting off the bottom of the page while trying to send it. But those issues can be fixed.

Next, I sent my friend out and we did the exam. She touched my chest a lot checking for signs of breast cancer. She said I have a good body type for this and nice stretchy skin.

She showed me where the scars would be and where she will place my nipples.

After the exam I went out and signed some forms and scheduled the surgery. June 14! It was sooner than most of us were expecting. My friend had to make a down payment of $2,500.

Overall the consult was quick and informative. I liked everyone there. And the area it’s in, New Hope, is nice.

There are lots of antique shops and I saw a bed and breakfast close by. I really liked the little cluster of shops where we stopped to eat at an Italian pub. My boyfriend and I got matching wooden rings for about a dollar each from this one cute shop. I look forward to visiting again.

Before the surgery I have to get some pre-op stuff done, including an EKG, lab work, a chest x-ray, and a physical including clearance for major surgery. That I scheduled with my regular doctor for late May.

I should be getting an information packet in the mail soon, which will hopefully answer more questions I have about how to prep for the big day.

Though it almost doesnt feel real, I’m excited for sure. But I’m even more excited for after I’m healed and I can wear tight shirts and swim shirtless. I’m going to the Pennsylvania Renaissance Faire in August and I have a costume all planned out. It’s gonna be so much better this year without breasts to hide. 🙂

Upcoming Changes

Been a while. I would love to post more often but with the inconvenient hours I work, I don’t really have time to think of a topic let alone write about one.

However, big changes are coming for me and I gotta document them.

First of all, I have a consult with Dr. McGinn from the Papillon Center to talk about getting top surgery. It’s on April 4^th and I would be pretty excited but it just doesn’t feel real yet. I’ve been waiting a long time for this.

And being a worrier, I have plenty of concerns. Will I like my results? Can I get time off from work for the recovery? Will she even approve me for surgery? My therapist is not specifically a gender specialist, but she has had one trans patient before me. And I have been seeing her for years. But I don’t know if Dr. McGinn will want me to have a letter from a gender specialist.

Last night I was in a bit of a funk, thinking about how even after I have this surgery (which I’ve dreamed of for years) I’ll still be a freak to many people. I’ll still have the “wrong” parts. I’ll still be too short. I’ll still be too young-looking. People will still wonder what my genitals look like.

I know this surgery will relieve a majority of my dysphoria, but it won’t solve everything. I actually thought I was going to be okay with always being different from other guys. I do identify more as a “trans guy” than just a “guy”. But sometimes I don’t want to be different. I just want to be a guy with a vagina, and I want people to be okay with that.

Anyway… I have a lot to be grateful for. I have a wonderful partner by my side, who constantly tries to help me look at things more positively and is always making me smile. We’ve been together since June, though we were forced to endure a long-distance relationship for seven months at the beginning of our relationship. I think it made us stronger and more committed though. But he’s back home now and I’m very lucky. He and I are staying with my mom right now, but we’ll be looking for our own apartment soon. And I hope to get out of fast-food service in a few months. So lots of good changes are coming my way.

I’m also grateful to my friend who is actually funding the surgery for me until I can repay the loan. Without him, this wouldn’t be possible and I would continue to suffer until I could either save the money myself or get a big enough loan somehow.

Still, my pessimistic side is busy reminding me of all the ways this could go wrong…

Well, I’ll post again after my consultation. I don’t see enough personal insight out there about the Papillon Center and McGinn’s practice so I hope to give as many details as possible about my own experiences.

 

Thanks for reading!

~ James

A Trans-Guy’s Former Crush Walks Into a Bar…

Hey everyone! I’m gonna get right into it and say what I want to say today.

I was at a bar with some of my closest friends tonight. It was a neighborhood bar, the kind of place that doesn’t even stock the kind of ingredients it takes to make a margarita. Surprisingly there are always more queer people there than I expect. One time, there was even these two dudes standing around and one of them was pretty drunk and ALL OVER the other guy. Kissing and hugging and generally being cute and cuddly. And NO ONE said a damn thing. No one picked a fight and no one shouted any slurs, at least not that I saw. And for me, that was pretty amazing for to see. I live in central Pennsylvania, which is pretty conservative. People here like guns, beer, and their 98% white neighborhood. So yeah, this is a big deal for me that queer people can be themselves in public spaces and not just at our ONE gay bar (which is in another town).

Anyway, I ran into an old friend here. This is an OLD friend, someone I knew from before I even knew that I was transgender. Let me paint a picture: I used to be a really hot girl (at least that’s what I appeared to be). Long, straight auburn hair, pretty face, curves… I knew how to dress my hot self and put on make-up. I tried really hard back then to be a proper female. And he was a hot guy. Still is to be honest. But back then I really liked him, and I guess he liked me too but I wasn’t confident enough at the time to realize that there was mutual attraction.

So tonight, I was playing pool in the back with my friends when I saw him come in. I recognized him immediately and kinda froze as he walked over to the bar. I stayed back with my friends and I noticed that he was sitting at the bar all alone. I remembered what he was like. We had met at church… a church I no longer go to. For the usual reasons. They’re strictly socially-conservative and completely against queer and trans people, and also strict in many other ways (they think Halloween and Disney are evil). Now this guy… his mom was the craziest bitch in the joint, I swear. She once told me that just wearing clothing with print of skulls on it was bad. And his father I only met once but from what I had heard, I got the impression that he was a violent man. So I shouldn’t be surprised that my old friend turned out to be pretty horrible too, I suppose.

I’m getting ahead of myself though. So I saw him sitting alone, drinking a beer and smoking a cigarette. I didn’t want to spend my last $5, but I really wanted to talk to him. Remember, I used to have a big crush on this guy. So I took a cigarette and my $5 over to the bar and sat two stools down from him. When I got within earshot I noticed he was flirting with the bartender, who was pregnant. I ordered Mike’s Hard Lemonade and waited. I smoked. I sipped my drink. And I shook nervously. Because I knew he’d recognize me. My face hasn’t changed THAT much from testosterone.

Finally, to my left, I heard “Hey Kelly.” I turned to him and we exchanged the usual greetings; “Hey, how are ya?” Then I scooted over next to him and told him “It’s James now actually.”

He looked confused. And drunk. I was a little worried, because I knew some people have irrational, violent reactions to trans people just for existing, and my old friend was a boxer. Former boxer, I learned.

I explained that I was doing something called “gender transition”. I came out about 4 years ago but never told him since we never see each other and we aren’t connected online. I’d always been curious about what he’d think. I had hoped, having a mother like his who had given him such a hard time, that maybe he’d be more committed to being open-minded. But his answer told me everything I needed to know. “I think it’s wrong,” he said.

We still had a conversation about it. He was drunk and I told him I didn’t think it would really stick if I talked to him about it now, but he said to go ahead anyway. I tried to explain that gender identity is separate from sexuality and “biological sex”. I told him that transition was important to my mental and emotional health. He really didn’t get it though. And throughout the conversation, I was told “I still see you as a girl”, “You’re being stupid”, “God made you a girl” and “You just never met the right guy.” I’ve HEARD that that line was a popular, ignorant response LGBTA people often encountered. And I’ve seen it on a TV show in a queer character’s story arc once. But I never actually had anyone suggest it to me to my face before. WOW. After mentions of my former long, beautiful hair, and my great ass and such, he also said “if you were a normal girl now, I’d fuck you.” Haha, well it’s nice to know he was attracted to me back then when I had a huge crush on him. I guess. But I think I dodged a bullet though, considering that during our conversation he also said “I beat up three spics the other day”, “there’s a bunch of queers here”, and there was at least one instance of “nigger”.

I’m sure by now you’re thinking I must have horrible taste in men. To be fair, I had no idea he was that big of an asshole back then.

I felt bad for the woman tending the bar because my acquaintance kept asking her to sit on his lap. Remember, she is pregnant too. So she told him, “I’m bigger than you!” I was delighted for a break from our previous conversation and, honestly, I was hoping that if I cut in that he would stop harassing her. So I asked her when she was due, and she told me August. So I asked what she was having (I don’t really care to know the assumed and assigned gender of infants, but other people often do) and she told me it was a boy, so I asked if she had names picked out yet. She said she didn’t and then asked me if I had any suggestions. She was so sweet! I pointed to myself and suggested naming him James. LOL But apparently that is the baby’s grandfather’s name so it was a no go. When she left, my acquaintance looked to me and shook his head. He said “shut up…” and I told him I was just being nice to her, hoping he’d take a hint that he was being incredibly rude to her. But he told me I was being a cockblock. I told him that I really don’t think I was. ^__^; Obviously she wasn’t all that interested in him to begin with…

He also tried to use my drink choice as a way of convincing me that I’m a girl. “No real guy would order that,” he told me, pointing to my $3 bottle of Mike’s Hard Lemonade. I turned the glass bottle over and read the label, “5 percent alcohol.”

“5 percent?” he repeated. “….That’s a lot actually.” He looked at his beer. “More than mine…”

Haha~ I was half-drunk during the whole conversation, and I recounted the scene to my friends later after my “old friend” and I parted ways. They couldn’t believe I even talked to him as long as I did. Several times I had felt like leaving him and the conversation completely. But, for some reason, I decided to stick around until he was done with his beer and ready to leave. I guess, even though he was a jerk, he was still an old friend who I hadn’t seen in a while.

I learned something from it though. No matter who questions me or tries to invalidate me, even if it’s someone I used to want to impress, it doesn’t matter. I know who I am.

I don’t care what kind of drinks the other guys order.

I don’t care how other guys dress.

I don’t care how other guys answer the fucking phone.

I don’t care how other guys walk, or talk, or fuck.

I LIKE WHO I AM. I will not disrespect women just because other guys do. I will not hoard a collection of guns to feel powerful. I will not look down on femininity. I will not even drink a fucking beer just because that’s what all the other guys are drinking. I hate beer. I hate all that other misogynistic, racist bullshit too.

And now that I’m sober, I am MAD about that conversation. I’m annoyed, and rightfully so. It was a really gross conversation that, in hindsight, made me feel really slimy and angry.

So what even is the point of this post?

I think I had a learning moment. And I just wanted to share it with you. I’ve had lots of arguments with people online about LGBTQIA issues, but this is the first time I have spoken to someone face-to-face (in a long time anyway), who was so blatantly ignorant. And it was so personal too, because this was an old friend. Someone I used to really like. As brief as this encounter was for me, it was important. I feel like I came out of it knowing just a little bit more about myself than I did before. I feel even more convicted about my morals and about who I really am.

With all these wins the Queer Movement is getting in the United States lately, people who oppose us are pushing back even stronger. Even other countries are taking measures to ensure queer people won’t be as free as they are here. But even in the supposedly free United States, people talk openly about their desire to oppress us or see us stoned like the bible “says” we deserve. And then they cry “freedom of speech” when we tell them how horrible they sound. Maybe there is a bright side to that though. Their hatred is out in the open and decent people can see it. Even some of my conservative family members are moving closer to the compassionate side of the argument as they see what LGBTQIA people are really going through.

I think what I am learning, though, is that I’m not afraid. Which is the exact opposite reaction that I’d expect of myself considering everything I just pointed out. But I’m not afraid. I don’t pick fights with people unnecessarily, but I’m not afraid to speak out against problematic shit when I encounter it. I think there are a lot more people standing ON my side rather than standing against me. And, as a person of faith, I think God is standing on my side too. Or maybe hovering divinely in my general vicinity at least. 🙂

 

The Story of How Kelly Became James

People often ask me why I chose the name James. There’s no big story behind it; I had a list of names I liked, I took that list of names with me to the mirror and spoke them all out loud to my reflection. James stuck. It probably wasn’t the most practical choice, since I have a cousin named James who was born on the same day as me (just a year later). But it’s the name that felt right. I liked my old name too. Kelly is generally considered unisex, leaning towards feminine. I think it’s Irish for warrior or possibly strife. But I never identified with that name. So I had to change it.

The process of getting my name legally changed was definitely more tedious than it was difficult. My first move was to call up my local prothonotary and ask what I would need.

I got the paperwork to file my petition from the Court Administrator and got a friend, who had been though the process, to help me figure out what to do with it. The next step was something I procrastinated on out of fear – going to the state police to get my fingerprints.

Though usually my worries are much worse than is warranted, I’d say in this case my anxiety was justified for once. The state troopers there were kind of rude, and when the one asked what I was changing my name to, she gave me a strange look after I answered. Her expression looked like “OMG you’re one of those.” She asked me why I was “doing this”, which I assume meant transitioning. I explained and she didn’t really do anything besides nod, so I was incredibly uncomfortable. There was small talk about the fingerprinting process, but it was all very awkward. The situation was made worse by the fact that the fingerprint machine was giving her trouble so I was stuck there longer than I expected. But I got them! And it was St. Patrick’s Day, so I celebrated that night.

I waited two or three more months because I wanted my mom to go down to the courthouse with me for the next step and was waiting for her to have a day off of work. I suppose that was kind of silly, but I wanted her to be a part of it. Anyway, with my petition filled out and my fingerprint card finished, I took that and my $105.50 filing fee to the prothonotary, who kept it to have a judge sign it. I was instructed to wait for a call and then come back to the prothonotary for the petition forms so I could take them to the Court Administrator to get my hearing date.

I got the call the next day telling me that I could come get the papers, but I wasn’t able to get down to the courthouse until about 5 days later. My dad (who was never supportive of my transition or the name change, but has always been willing to drive me where I needed to go for transition-related things) took me to the courthouse. He mostly just followed me around the building while I got the papers from the prothonotary and took them to the Court Administrator. She told me my court date was set for 9:15 a.m. on August 28^th, courtroom #1. The courthouse opens at 9 in the morning so basically I would be one of the first people being heard. My mom said that was a good thing, but being a night owl I was dreading the early hour.

So it was a two month wait. I was excited and told all my close friends. Most of them wanted to come to support me, but I didn’t want a big crowd there. It might seem disrespectful. About two or three weeks before the hearing, I went to a Pride Picnic at my local amusement park. I painted my nails rainbow, wore my rainbow-checkered glasses and went there with some friends. It was really hot out but I got a free rainbow peace sign necklace and a sticker from EqualityPA. The president of EqualityPA, Adrian Shanker was there and I got to talk to him about voter registration. He advised me to get my ID changed ASAP after my hearing date so I could register to vote in time for the presidential election. He supports the sitting president, it seems.

So I was in a good mood for a while, but then I got a horrible email forwarded to me from my dad. It was some crazy conservative organization I guess, called the Public Advocate for the US. It went on about how the LGBT community got DADT repealed and now they are pushing for transsexuals to have the right to join the military without the threat of being discharged for it. How dare we want to serve our country, right? I was appalled, of course, but by the time I got to “these sick individuals” and “our soldiers deserve better”, it really felt like a punch in the gut. It was worse because my own dad forwarded this trash to me. I know he doesn’t agree with me transitioning, but I can’t understand why he would want me to see these horrid things written about people like me.

I was already getting nervous about the court hearing approaching, but that email two days before it put me in a bad emotional state.

One of my best friends stopped by to wish me luck before I left for the hearing. It ended up being just me, my mom, and my little sister there. My mom just had surgery a week before and I had been nervous that I would be going without her, but thank God she was walking around fine on her own by the day of the hearing.

We got there early, I was dressed handsomely in a suit and tie, and once I was in the courtroom all my nerves faded. It was a nice room but not quite like the grand court rooms you see on TV. I looked up and noticed some balloons stuck on the large light on the ceiling. Perhaps someone had been partying in the courtroom? It looked like the balloon had an organization’s name on it but I couldn’t make it out. Maybe the party had been a benefit for an organization.

The judge was about a half hour late. My mom knew the bailiff (his daughter had been friends with my late brother), so we chatted with him while we waited. Like most people, he was stunned that I’m 20. He thought I was 16, which is older than people usually guess so that was a plus. It was all lighthearted and easy-going until the buzzer signaling the judge sounded. We all quieted, the bailiff said “all rise”, we stood until the judge told us we could be seated.

The room was uncomfortably silent as the judge shuffled through his papers. I watched him for a moment, and it struck me that he was reading about me being transgender. I felt slightly panicked, wondering if he thought I was sick – the term used to describe transsexuals in the email my dad forwarded me. He finally spoke, going over court jargon for the records as the stenographer recorded what he was saying. He read off my petition and I was a little embarrassed when he reached the part about my reasoning. I had put down that I wished to change my name because I wanted a name that reflects my identity and gender and explained that most people in my life already referred to me as James. He read that part out loud too, and I couldn’t bring myself to look at anyone. It was strange, because I am not ashamed of what I am doing or being transgender. But it is a little unsettling to have your biggest discomfort spoken about in a big institutional setting.

He asked me if it was all true; a formality. I responded with “yes, your honor.”

I also had a letter from my therapist supporting me in this matter, so I brought that out at this point. He read that out loud as well and it was submitted for evidence. Much of the hearing was exactly as I expected it would be; just a formality. I had no reason to worry that he might not grant my name change. When he finally issued the decree and thumped the gavel, I wanted to jump for joy but instead I sat silently, grinning from ear to ear. The bailiff gave my mom a wink and a thumbs up. The judge offered me a “good luck” and I thanked him. On the way out, the bailiff shook my hand and congratulated me.

It went much better than I ever imagined. My mom took me and my sister shopping afterward so I had an amazing day with some of my favorite people. When I got home, I signed for a delivery for the first time under my new legal name.

And so ends my tale of my experiences in changing my name in the Northumberland County of Pennsylvania. The next step is to get my therapist to sign a form for the Pennsylvania Department of Transportation (PennDOT). That way I can get my gender marker changed on my State ID when I go to get a new one, since I need one with my new legal name on it anyway. I’ll also have to change my social security card, bank card, insurance, medical forms, possibly my birth certificate, etc. I got the 5 official decrees of name change that I requested free of charge, so I’m all set for that.

I imagine the gender-change form that I need to take to PennDOT will prompt an awkward situation. The people at my local PennDOT are really uptight and act like you’re bothering them the second you walk in the door… except the guy who took my picture. I remember him as a pretty nice guy. I look forward to the social catastrophe.

After all my identification forms are taken care of, I can start putting my name in for jobs. Time to start saving for my surgery, which is at the top of my priority list.

For the most part, I’m doing pretty well these days. Now that there’s no court date looming over me, I feel good. I’m working on a fantasy novel and just taking pleasure in writing the story for me and for my friends and family who are reading and enjoying it.

Thanks for reading! Getting a legal name change is a step many transgender people take in their transition, and I’m glad to report that mine went pretty well.

~ James

Sticks and Stones

Before I get into this subject, I just wanted to say that I have not abandoned this blog. I was just busy during the last few months of college. There was barely a day that went by that I did not have some homework assignment or a test to do or a club project to work on. Plus, I didn’t have any ideas for topics to write about. Hopefully over the summer I will find more topics to cover.

I’m not quite sure exactly what this post is about, so it may come off as rambling, but I wanted to comment on the sensitivity in the transgender community, especially concerning language.

On more than one occasion I have heard people express their exasperation with transgender people being oversensitive. That is definitely not the first word I want people to associate with me as a transgender person. While I do want people to be mindful and respectful, I don’t want them to be afraid to ask questions. I don’t want them to feel like they have to tiptoe around my feelings with every word out of their mouth. And I’m not talking about transgender people getting upset over actual prejudice or harassment. I mean transgender people getting easily offended by a simple word choice. And I don’t think it is only cisgender people who are having this problem with the community. It is also transgender people who are having trouble avoiding offending other people in the community. Because we all have different perspectives and different preferences when it comes to choosing words to express ourselves, we’re bound to run into issues.

I understand that when you are part of a community that experiences a lot of prejudice and bigotry, it’s easy and justifiable to be sensitive to an extent. And it is important to educate people about the language they use. In fact, my last blog post was about the use of the word “tranny”. But I think there is a line between educating people and dictating speech. And I don’t think I’m the only one who is starting to feel like I have to watch everything I say in order to avoid offending someone.

I’ve seen well-intentioned allies get flamed for a simple word choice. I’ve seen transgender people getting scolded by others in the community for the way they choose to describe themselves (a transman saying “I used to be a girl” was told he was poorly representing the community for his choice of words.)

Yes, we should be mindful about the language we use. But we also have to understand that we cannot police language. Sometimes, it’s an honest mistake and the person didn’t know the word was offensive. Other times, the word that is so “offensive” is simply that person’s preferred way of expressing their thoughts. A transguy who prefers to say “I used to be a girl” rather than “I was assigned female at birth” isn’t wrong. That is just his choice in how he expresses himself to others. Just because I prefer not to express myself that way does not mean I should tell other people that they can’t.

It is respectful to learn which words not to use around certain people. For example, I try not to curse in front of my friends who do not like it. And when my friend told me that he doesn’t like the word “butch”, I didn’t mention it in front of him again. There are certain words I dislike as well. And then when it comes to another person’s identity, it is important to be even more open-minded. I may dislike the words “tranny” and “faggot”, but I may meet someone who strongly identifies with those words and I respect the right to identify the way one chooses. But hopefully they would also respect that those words make me cringe.

I have noticed that people are taking offense at using the term “biological sex” or using the word “transgender” as a noun. I do understand the offense that can be taken here. Genitals, hormones, chromosomes, etc. come varied and many people are not strictly female or male even when it comes to biology. Maybe saying “assigned sex” is better. But who knows? Maybe some people are offended by that terminology as well. I’m vaguely aware that some within the intersex community took offense to transgender people using terms or assuming identities like “coercively assigned female/male at birth” (CAFAB and CAMAB). As for using “transgender” as a noun, I completely see how that could be offensive. I mean it’s not generally acceptable to refer to someone based on their “condition” (some transgender people see themselves as having a condition and others do not). Saying “she is a transgender” is like saying “she is a bipolar”. Of course it would be more appropriate to use the phrases “she is a person who identifies as transgender” and “she is a person who has bipolar disorder”, putting the fact that they are a person first and the description second. But I think we should remember that using “transgender” as a noun used to be the common terminology, even among transgender-identifying people. There are even some books written by trans people that use the terminology. But today, there are many who would take that terminology as deeply offensive. For one thing, maybe if we all remember that language is always changing, we won’t be so quick to take offense. We should especially remember that language changes faster within communities, and it takes longer for those outside of the community to catch up with the etiquette changes.

I’m not saying that it is wrong to suggest a word that you think is better. I am saying though that we cannot push people into accepting our word and definition preferences. Just because some people in the community prefer “assigned sex” over “biological sex”, doesn’t mean that we must all conform to that terminology. My family has a hard enough time using the right pronoun. I’m not going to nitpick over simple terms when people come to me with questions or conversation, or they might stop communicating altogether.

I’m not going to list off terms that I think are acceptable and ones that are not. I’m not going to say to what extent we should be sensitive or how much we should tolerate being offended. That depends on the individual. I will say though, that I think it is important to be both respectful of people’s feelings/identities, and also of their right to speak the way they want. I don’t believe anyone in the community has the right to police language. I support education and politely letting others know when they are being hurtful or inappropriate. I understand the need to remove oneself from a situation where others refuse to stop using language that is hurtful. But I do not support attacking others for their word choice when they simply did not know that the word could be offensive.

I suppose I wrote this though because I too am becoming a little exasperated at the sensitivity I’m observing in the community.

I’m really interested in hearing what anyone else has to say on this though. Any opinions on sensitivity within the community? Anyone want to share their experiences with it? Please share your thoughts, even if you disagree with what I’ve said. :-]

– James