So who am I and what's my story ?
My name is Max and I have been a
transitioning FTM for the past 11 years. I'm 45
-years-old with a 26yr old daughter and three
grandsons, three and five years and a seven year
old step-grandson.
I currently use the implant of testosterone
pellets on a five monthly basis through the
Andrology Unit at Concord Repatriation
Hospital, and let me just say, "what an
improvement in my life since I started
those!"
Initially I started on the one shot every
three wks for the first three months then was
adjusted to fortnightly shots but still my moods
would fluctuate toward the end of the second
week where I'd be grumpy, snappy and emotional
until I got my next shot. And although the
testosterone worked well, the frequency of its
insemination and its dissipation was getting to
be too much to handle. So once I'd heard about
the pellets my mind was made up to use that
form.
Now I only go through 'the swing' as I get
closer to the fifth month.
In the meantime my voice had deepened to a
nice second bass which I utilised well for two
years in the Sydney Gay and Lesbian
Choir. My jaw had squared off, my body fat
moved from my hips, buttocks and thighs to my
stomach which is constantly carrying those few
extra kilos I really don't need. My whiskers
grew much to the chagrin of (at the time) my
partner who hated the long straggly Amish type
beard that I initially grew and was ever so
proud of, (it took about five-six years to grow
a fully fledged beard), and my hair adopted the
thinning out typical of 'male pattern baldness'.
Which I readily admit is my least favourite
transformation to my body.
I should also mention that my sex drive
became so incredibly high that at times I
thanked my lucky stars I didn't have a real
penis because everybody would've known where my
head was at 99% of the day and night.
Life at first was ok and fortunately for me
another transman had led the way through the
jungle of transitioning whilst remaining an
active member of the Sydney lesbian community.
Also at first I had continued to play women's
soccer and was fortunate enough to be on the
team whereby most of the players were well known
entertainment leaders within the lesbian
community, DJ's, emcees, dance party hosts,
performers, etc, and of course very good friends
with that original transman, Jasper.
My daughter was 16 when I first told her what
I was doing and I had to do so by phone as she
was living with my older sister and her family
around the Griffith area. Naturally it was
difficult for her to comprehend and accept what
I was telling her. Initially we kept it between
ourselves, keeping the information from my
sister and her family but then my daughter
succumbed to the grief of loss she was feeling
and became quite upset and cried a lot.
Eventually my daughter needed to tell my
sister and her family so they could understand
what she was going through. That started off all
right but then my brother-in-law started to make
a lot of negative comments about me to my
daughter, followed soon by my sister. My three
nephews didn't openly support her either for
fear of their father's retribution but behind
the scenes they were generally very
supportive.
Throughout the remaining year my daughter and
I had regular telephone contact and part of the
school holidays together. In this time I
explained everything to her and hoped that she
could better understand and accept the 'new' me.
She would use in my defence to my brother-in-law
and eventually to my sister as well, all of
those explanations and I think through that use
she gained a better sense of clarity and
acceptance with everything I'd said.
At the end of the year my daughter moved back
to Sydney. At first she lived with a friend of
mine as I was living in one of The Gender
Centre Inc residences and was unable to have
her with me, but we did get to spend a great
deal of time together as she was now a lot
closer. Soon after she moved to the western
suburbs to live with my younger sister but
before moving there we had to contend with the
possibility of me getting found out by this not
so accepting sister.
During this time I was approached by
Woman's Day, they wanted to do an article
on f2m's and wanting to educate the world into
better acceptance of us, I agreed to be the one
written about as long as alias could be used for
myself, daughter and girlfriend, no identifying
details of our addresses and no photos of the
other two.
This for them was not a problem so the story
went ahead being published in a May edition
1994
Well, wasn't moving to my sister's fun for my
daughter, not. My sister had never accepted that
I was a lesbian so there was no way we were
going to tell her about this. Of course as time
progressed my voice kept breaking and getting
deeper, I wonder how long any of us can keep
pretending to have a bad throat ?
The story of the bad throat was pretty handy
though. Everytime I spoke to my grandmother she
asked about my throat, a nice change to, "have
you got a boyfriend yet?" I'd also been in touch
with one of my male cousins who (is the closest
in age to me and) had no problems whatsoever
about my lesbianism and also quite readily
accepted my transgendering. Since we appeared to
be the two grandchildren closest to my
grandmother, at his suggestion I let him broach
the subject with her.
Oh how I wished I'd done that sooner. Total
acceptance from a parenting figure. Along with
my spinster aunt there were no qualms or
hesitations from either of them, they just
automatically used 'he' instead of 'she'. I
think the unconditional acceptance of 'me' also
helped me to feel closer to my grandmother.
Further, there was another aunt and her
daughter who readily accepted. They were on a
train with my cousin's friend who was at the
time reading the article about me. My cousin
told her friend that the person in the story was
her cousin. Naturally her friend thought she was
joking until my aunt said that, "She's my niece,
well nephew now, I guess."
In the meantime I hadn't seen my father for
quite a while as he, like my sister had had
difficulty accepting my lesbianism, so I doubted
very much the open armed acceptance of my
transitioning that I would've liked.
Once again the ultimate decision of telling a
family member loomed over my head resulting in
the decision to tell my sister first.
All families have their own quirks and mine
was no different. Some months earlier my father
had sold his house to my brother and bought
himself a mobile home in the Hunter region, only
nobody told me, well, not at first anyway. I
soon learnt of this but never found out which
caravan park he had moved to so also I didn't
have the opportunity to tell him myself of my
transition having to leave it to my sister to
tell him and my daughter to answer any questions
he may have had.
Unfortunately, two months later my father had
another heart attack and passed away. I never
had the chance to speak to him. I know I still
carry around with me that regret, the missed
opportunity to see each other one last time, to
speak to and be heard by the other, to tell him
I loved him no matter what he thought of the
'me' that I was or had become.
At the funeral my older sister had for the
first time the opportunity to see the 'new' me
and ever since then she and her family have been
totally accepting of me.
Contact with my younger sister had prior to
then been limited to the occasional phone call
and after my father's death became even less so.
She had a very real aversion to me living my
life the way that suited me, didn't want me in
her baby's life as she didn't know what to tell
them. All excuses for her choice of not wanting
to deal with me. Well I was pretty happy with my
life so, I figured, it was her loss and have
left it at that.
Well one can only live with so much
negativity and the crunch came with my daughter
when my sister gave her the ultimatum to, "go
and sort things out with your 'mother' and to
get her (me) out of her life". My daughter and I
had long talks about how she felt about me and
my transitioning and how her life was at my
sister's.
My daughter and I came to the conclusion that
since I now had a state-housing flat, she should
move in with me. And so she did.
Over the next several years my daughter
matured, somewhat, and had much to my
displeasure, a baby at 20, yet I wouldn't swap
him for anything now. I had a relationship that
for the first time in my life was long term and
together we became 'Nonna' and 'Poppa Max' to my
first born grandson.
All good things eventually come to an end as
did my relationship but we continued to share a
home for a while then at a later stage also
lived next door to each for two years before I
moved away from Sydney. We continue our very
close friendship to this day ten years down the
track.
Throughout the years it had been somewhat of
a trial to get employment because of my broken
work history, a common theme of single mothers,
but as a single male made even all the more
harder. It's funny how employers see being a
single 'father', raising a child alone as
commendable but they have a very real problem
getting their head around the gaps in your work
history, always asking, " so what did you do
between these dates…?"
I'm sorry, didn't I mention that I was
raising a child alone in that time? Are women
the only ones entitled to have periods of time
at home with their children? Obviously in the
employers eyes, yes.
I began a six week-kitchen hand's course
through CES held at a Sydney pub. How fortuitous
as they found themselves in a position where
they needed a new cook. I got the job, ok I was
only making hamburgers and chips and things but
gee it felt so good to be employed again. During
the year I was employed there I took several
weeks off to go to Queensland to have chest
surgery. At that time it was cheaper than Sydney
and having seen another guys chest done by this
plastic surgeon felt that it was also the best
work around. This surgeon also didn't use the
'anchor' method, which Jasper and I found to be
too 'female-like' in the scar factor area. Both
surgeries went well, except for the remaining
10% on my left side which is greater than the
10% on my right side, add a little extra weight
and I'm nearly back to what I had in the
beginning only not sitting as far down on my
ribs…someday I'll have both excesses
removed.
Jasper and I had a pretty good friendship up
until that point and from having the surgery at
the same time and going through all the physical
pain that one can experience from the surgery,
we gained a much deeper, loving friendship that
still endures to today.
Eventually I got a job as a bus driver,
lasting six months until I had one accident too
many. They re-assessed my driving, no more bus
driving, oh well. Next I went into security
where I stayed for two and a half years. In that
time I was working at Sydney Airport's
Ansett domestic terminal. During that
time I had my hysterectomy but prior to that I
needed to let my immediate bosses know of my
history. All were accepting but there was one
woman made me laugh to myself everytime I
mentioned my ensuing surgery as she'd always go,
"I can't get my head around it". The knowledge
of my past and what she saw in front of her was
just too contradictory and so …no. I am
whom she sees, good.
Several more years down the track I live
happily in a Newcastle suburb, working as a
foster parent to a twelve year old boy who up
until a couple of weeks ago knew nothing about
my previous 'me'. Through open discussion and
clear answers he now knows and feels quite
comfortable with who and how I am and wouldn't
want to be moved on to anywhere else. I like
that because I wouldn't want him moved on
either.
I'm happy with my life and the way in which I
live it and can only hope for my continued
future happiness and maybe that surgery I dream
of…the one where you can just grow a penis
on the back of a rat or pig or something from
your own cells and transplant it on. Now that's
a dream I'm hoping to live long enough to
see.
We're all here to learn and to teach, quite
often we don't know what these lessons are but
through these lessons and the small and great
tasks we complete along our life's line each of
us will learn who we really are for
ourselves.
Have the courage to let the real you step out
from the inner you and if you need help along
the way there is always another man who has just
taken that step ahead of you willing to show you
the path.
Addendum: as of December 2005: I did have my
chest surgery again this time with Dr Hassall in
Sydney, ahh what a much improved chest I have
now though still need some minor work done to
adjust the view of the areolas and nipples plus
remove some dog ears. My foster son did move on
but that's ok as we still have occasional
contact with one another. I now work in the
disability field with a very likeable 27yr old
male client who consequently knows nothing of my
status but has made mention of my being like a
substitute mother but most times says I'm like a
brother to him. I'm still waiting to meet 'miss
right'.
