Trans Folks Tell Us About Their Transition Breakthroughs

Based on President Donald Trump's comments this week, it's hard to believe the US leader has ever gotten to know a living, breathing trans person. That he could reduce an incredibly diverse group of people to a "burden" with "tremendous medical costs" while simultaneously stripping them of employment seems to willfully misunderstand how the law/jobs/healthcare actually work.

The truth is trans folks do face a lot of unnecessary hardship without official government policies discriminating against them. Those who transition see myriad misunderstandings in their path—not just around pronouns and hormones but about their intentions and experiences as humans. But through all that, there are also moments that stick out as memorable wins. In the spirit of viewing trans folks in three dimensions, here are some of those stories.

I hadn't had any idea about what transgender was when I was younger. I think what happened was I watched a documentary on someone who had transitioned, and I thought 'Wow, that's exactly what I've been dealing with.'

I didn't expect how long it would feel like in the beginning, and then how quickly it all seemed to add up. When you start the first months seem to drag, and then one day you wake up and it all pieces together. The change was very slow. I was surprised about how much distaste or unhappiness with myself I had for those first six months. I had always been a happy-go-lucky person, but I wasn't myself early on. I was so full of angst.

I do remember one time, it was my first time trying on suits, and my mom said 'My son is so handsome!' That was a breakthrough for me. She came downtown with me for the first time, and it was pretty funny. We had a cliche heart-to-heart in the bathroom talking about how she was sorry things were rough in the beginning. We had a lot to drink by this point. She was hugging me and telling people 'This is my son, isn't he so handsome?' and 'I don't mean to be a bitch, but you look way better as a boy.' I said 'I agree.' It was an awkward conversation that you never imagine happening.

Every once in awhile you get thrown a curveball. For me the biggest anxiety I've had is around finding a place in the community, because you don't really fit in at the gay bars unless you're gay and trans, which is fine. But even then you don't really fit in at the gay bars. You don't fit in with the lesbians—at least not for me because I 'pass' as masculine very well and I'm just below average height and very straight-looking.

I've also had a hard time accepting the fact my presence has an effect—that some women see me as a threatening male figure. For women walking down the street alone, now I'm that scary figure walking behind them, making them anxious—even though I don't want to be. Unfortunately that's the way our history has taught women.

My dad was a bit more difficult to gain acceptance with. I had always just assumed it was never going to be an eye-to-eye thing. I work as a longshoreman at the ports, which is a predominantly male and masculine workplace. My dad works there too, and for a long time I was too afraid to have my name changed over there. My dad and I had been butting heads over my transition, and then one day I got this picture from him. He had went into the main office and changed my name for me. It was a very emotional moment. When I got this text it just felt like a whole new wave of support.

Growing up I never really knew what it meant to be trans—it's not something I was taught. I was trying to ignore these feelings that I had, just trying to be normal, I suppose. When I met my biological uncles they encouraged me to volunteer with Vancouver Pride. I was asked 'what are your pronouns?' and I didn't know what it meant. I didn't know you could choose pronouns. I took a few years after that deciding what path I wanted to take, whether I wanted to transition.

I spent about two years contemplating whether to go on hormones and looking into the side effects they would have. Basically it puts you through a second puberty. I knew the physical changes, but I wasn't sure what the mental changes would be.

What I was hoping is it would help with a lot of the depression and dysphoria I was feeling. A lot of people I spoke with equated it to those Claritin ads, where you peel away the foggy screen to reveal a clearer world. The whole world felt like a bit of a blur, I wasn't fully interacting with the world. That changed. I think more clearly, I'm in much better control of my life. I think my ability to absorb information is better after taking hormones.

I never really had a one-time breakthrough, I would say I had quite a few small leaps. I'm not really the kind of person to dive right into something head first. I just make small changes that I'm comfortable with, and take my time getting used to that. A huge leap wouldn't allow me the confidence that I wanted.

There have been a few times throughout the journey where I questioned whether I was making the right decisions, but I haven't questioned very long. I have to get over social anxiety and put myself in the world as my authentic self. I write down what I'm doing, how I'm feeling, I take pictures. When I look back on that I can see progress. I know I'm less angry about the life I was living.

I knew when I was four or five, I literally felt like my penis is missing. As a kid I didn't know what a penis was, but I just kind of knew something was supposed to be there and it's not.

When I started transitioning—it's been about two years since the very first time I took hormones—I had a trans mentor. I looked up to him and learned a lot. The thing about hormones is, I don't want to say people sugarcoat it, but when I was getting info from trans men, people only seemed to talk about the positives.

I had a rare side effect that happens to very few people. When I first started hormones my doctors believe I went into a post-menopausal depression. The theory was, because I stopped getting my periods right away, my estrogen levels had plummeted, and my testosterone was low as well. At that time there were very little hormones in my body. Hormones affect your mood, and I was really sensitive to it, so I went into a dark place.

Except for a couple friends, nobody knew right away. I kept my hair long, I was still putting on makeup for work. Not because I wanted to, it was just how I was brought up—I felt I wasn't allowed to present as masculine. When I cut my hair I spent about four months at home. I didn't go anywhere, I was pretty much hiding.

They tell you you're going to sound like you have a cold for about a month, and I did. I sounded like I was sick for a month and a half. On testosterone people lose their ability to cry, which is really difficult. I've come to terms with it, that I still feel upset, I just don't feel the need to let it out by crying. The way you feel emotions are different.

I knew things would change socially, but I didn't know to what extent. For most of my life people used to perceive me as as straight woman. My social life was girl's nights, going out for movies and sleepovers, and I always had a female best friend. After 22 years, all of a sudden everyone reads me as a dude. I can't go up to a female coworker, I can't suggest dinner and a sleepover on the weekends. I used to talk to men in a different way. All these unspoken rules for how men and women talk to each other—I had to relearn how to talk to people.

I found a lot of comfort hanging out with the friends I had before I transitioned. With them nothing ever felt weird, I only had one friend who did change the way she interacted with me, but besides her, the dynamic remained the same. There are certain things that I miss about my past social life, but I've gained a lot of physical comfort. I'm slowly getting comfort I should have always had.

For me it was gradual. When I was four or five months in, in the morning somebody would call me 'she,' and in the afternoon another person would say 'he.' Sometimes people would go up to my friends and say 'was that a guy or a girl?' It came to a point where everybody just perceived me as he, and I thought OK, I can go to the library and have people see me as how I feel.

*Stories have been edited for clarity and style.

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