There’s no way I could’ve known just how many changes I’d face in those early years.

When I first started down this path of social and medical transition—of course, I expected the outer stuff to change.

You know, ALL the physical stuff... WITH MAH BODY…

I wanted all the changes of my “secondary sexual characteristics”—that’s what the experts call it in books.

YASS! That was the STUFF.

I couldn’t wait to see how my appearance would shift, especially in that first year.

And it’s like a sort of, transition-focused narcissist emerged from my hormonal loins. AND lingered, well, into year two… And maybe three… I’m afraid my social life never actually recovered.

Most of the potential physical changes I’d imagined for myself were exciting (and welcome). I was very excited to start re-shaping my body into something that finally, felt more like myself. Or at least, something that felt more like the sort of physical home I could live and grow old in...

I looked forward to a deeper voice

(hopefully!)…

Bigger muscles

(maybe!)…

More hair on my everywhere

(OH, YES!)…

OR wait—would there be LESS?

(oh, no…)

Yes.

Apparently, DNA has a say, too, on how some of the physical stuff goes down.

(Oh, well.)

So, of course, I had a tiny bit* of fear amidst an early mix of (mostly) excited emotions, questions, and expectations…

I mean, the unknown is REALLY scary and just, so… UNKNOWN, right?

Of course, I expected things to change. *Some* things.

I expected to not know what to expect around the physical changes.

I mean, who could say what I’d look like after living 34 years as a (mostly) estrogen-based being and then suddenly, becoming mostly testosterone-based?

That was ALL I really focused on in the beginning. What would I LOOK LIKE??

It was a fun comparison game. Daily. Weekly. Monthly. Let’s circle the differences!

• How many new hairs are on my chin?
• What about hair on my abs? *When DO the abs arrive??*
• And when could I finally get rid of THOSE things? The chesticles. The TWO BIGGEST banes of my existence at that point in my life...

I couldn’t have known how much I would really change.

Or how long it would take for me to actually feel like myself in my skin.

I wondered WHEN I would finally recognize myself in the mirror.

I worried about what I’d look like to others after one month—or one year? Or TEN or twenty or fifty or more?

How can ANY of us know the answer to those things?

Still, I’d never really seen anyone who looked like I felt.

Of course, I had a ton of questions. Especially ALL those, physical-change-related questions because they were honestly the only questions I knew to ask. And they were questions that no one could answer for me, like…

• How would HRT affect my long-term health?
• What if I decided I wanted kids of my own someday?
• Would it even be possible? Because, on so many levels, HOW?
• What if I’m so unattractive that I never find another partner or person interested in me, EVER?
• When will I know it’s time start using the men’s restroom??
• Do I look weird?
• Do I sound funny?
• What are these strangers assuming about my private parts and pantal-region right now?? The paranoia was real.

And unfortunately, it was also the norm for me, for a long time.

I could only approximate, hope, and imagine...

And keep going.

And then—again—feel paralyzed by the fears. And somehow (again) miraculously take another baby step forward.

I walked into the unknown, hand-in-hand with my heart, head, and gut… It was a team effort, for sure.

Contemplating and witnessing the outer changes was exciting and scary and unknown and expected and unexpected—all at the same time.

The INNER changes, though…

The emotional stuff. The mental stuff. The random social stuff.

My inner perspective started shifting more and more while my outer changes were unfolding. It seemed like everything was happening from the inside out. But MORE THAN THE PHYSICAL STUFF WAS CHANGING!

I was shook.

And I’m not sure anyone on YouTube could’ve prepared me with their monthly update videos.

I don’t actually think anyone on YouTube was even talking much, if at all, about any other kinds of changes… Not back then, anyway. Or not that I ever noticed. We were ALL focusing on physical changes. Maybe social things, sometimes.

It didnt seem to matter how many videos I consumed from the transitioning pioneers before me… Regardless of the hundreds of articles, hours of research, or all the truth I’d ever known within me, about my own inner identity…

It’s only when you taste the honey or vinegar or testosterone that you can ever, truly KNOW the experience of it…

And sometimes, there are no words to describe an experience at all, no matter how long we’ve experienced it.

I still don’t know how to talk about some of the inner changes.

I’ve had a lot of new experiences over these past nine+ years of medical transition. And I’m still learning.

Right now, I’m excited to try something new–like, attempting to find the words. Taking a step to capture my experience. And doing something to share my own stories of change.

…

*IT WAS A MASSIVE AMOUNT OF FEAR