Jake’s story

WHEN I made the decision to finally commence my transition I knew enough about the local available trans-medical services to know that my first port of call needed to be to my GP. I doubt that she’d had anything at all to do with trans-people before this but to her credit she took my announcement that I was trans and wanted to commence medical transition in her stride. She simply blinked once and said, “I take it you’ve thought this through” before obliging me by writing a referral to my chosen psychiatrist in Sydney.

The next step, actually seeing this psychiatrist was to prove to be somewhat more difficult. As I wanted my eventual testosterone treatment to be carried out by a specific doctor at Concord Hospital I decided, for expediency’s sake, to have my obligatory psych assessment with one of the hospital’s staff psychiatrists. I could have postponed my appointment with the endocrinologist in order to see a psychiatrist here in Newcastle but, at the time, I didn’t want to wait one second longer than I had to.

That initial psych appointment was probably the single worst medical experience in my transition so far, if not my life. Despite the fact that this particular psychiatrist was listed as ‘trans-friendly’ I found his approach to be anything but. [Ed: This psychiatrist has since been removed from the FTM Australia Health and Service Provider list]. He was confrontational, dismissive, patronising, and based all of his comments about transsexuality on psychiatric theories that had been refuted and/or disproven for decades. In short, this man came out with some of the most insulting comments concerning my life that I have ever heard. I walked out of that appointment vascilating between fury at his attitude and pity for anyone who had the misfortune of having this man as their treating psychiatrist for any length of time. The one good thing that I did take from this experience however was this: patience is a virtue – especially when it comes to transitioning.

As I don’t live in Sydney and since I couldn’t get my psych appointment on the same day as my appointment with the endocrinologist I was forced to stay overnight in the city. I’d decided ahead of time that my psych assessment would go well and I’d get the go-ahead for testosterone treatment – which, ironically enough despite the psychiatrist’s attitude concerning transsexuality, I did – so I treated myself to a nice hotel with an equally nice meal and glass or two of wine. The food and wine were lovely, unfortunately, the psychiatrist had left me so wound up after the appointment that I ended up nursing a migraine headache all night as I worried what sort of welcome I’d get from the hospital’s Andrology Unit staff.

As fate would have it, the Unit’s staff were and have continued to be, nothing but caring and respectful of me and my treatment. I have no idea how many guys are currently on their books, or how many they have treated over the years, but it is clear (from my experience anyway) that this group of professionals are completely at ease working with the trans-community and they see us exactly as we should be seen: as human beings who deserve basic human respect, nothing more, nothing less.

I am now into the ninth month of my transition. Physical changes are moving along reasonably well, albeit not as quickly as I’d like. I’ve managed to schedule the first of my surgeries – full hysterectomy and bi-lateral oopherectomy for the beginning of December. I would have preferred to have had chest reconstruction first but my experiences with the hospital’s psychiatrist left me leery of their profession. I was only able to work up the nerve to schedule my obligatory psych appointment for chest surgery last month. This time I did a bit of research and found a psychiatrist that came highly-recommended by guys in the community – guys who’d had firsthand experience with him. The bonus was, he also practiced in Newcastle so I didn’t have to haul my butt down to Sydney again – a plus when you don’t own a car yourself.

To cut a long story short, this appointment went well – a hundred times better than my first experience. After an hour-long consult I got the green light for chest surgery. I’m scheduled to have my first consult with my surgeon of choice toward the end of November. If all goes well I hope to have completed these first stages of my transition by this time next year. Then, I suppose I will inevitably turn my thoughts to the question of bottom surgery, but that’s a whole other story…for now.

I try not to look at the process of transition as being a long time to wait in order to physically be me, even though it does feel that way – every day of every week that I’m forced to live in a body that I hate. Despite the attendant frustrations and miseries however, I actually think that it’s easier to get through this process not having a partner by my side. This is the first time in my life that I’ve allowed myself the luxury to focus wholly and solely on me, to consider what I want and need above all else. In short, I don’t honestly think it’s a time when I could give anything to anyone, beyond friendship. Whether another relationship comes along or not is for the fates to decide. But one thing is for sure, whoever my next partner is she’ll need to be 100% comfortable with my trans-status as I have no intention whatsoever of living stealth, in any way, shape or form.

Thus far I have come out to all of the important (and necessary) people in my life. My mother took the news well – exceedingly well actually for a 71-year old. She’s had her ups and downs of course but at the end of the day she’s soldiered on with it all. She’d even lent her sewing skills to the cause, helping me to brainstorm ways to create a binder that works for my body. I’m not saying that our relationship is perfect, nor am I suggesting that you’ll ever see her proudly waving a PFLAG banner at the next Mardi Gras march, but for her and for us, she’s come a long way – longer than I ever thought she would and that, at the end of the day, is all that counts I think.

As far as coming out to friends and work colleagues I think I’ve been incredibly lucky. I work in a government department so I’m fortunate that my employer will (and does) adhere faithfully to the letter of all anti-discrimination laws. I have no idea what my colleagues personally think about me or my decision to transition, but nor do I care. At work they treat me as they do every one else – politely and with respect, and at the end of the day that’s all that matters really. I’d thought long and hard about how I would ‘be’ in the workplace once I came out as trans. I decided that a number of points would be non-negotiable: I would never back down when it came to ensuring that my individual rights were respected by one and all, I would never be ashamed of my trans-status nor would I hide it for the comfort of others, and I would always try to work with my colleagues as they grappled to understand my decision and work this new information into their own lives.

I view my transition as part my story and mine alone and part joint-journey with those around me. I reserve the right to make my own decisions regarding the nature and timing of each stage of this process, but I also deliberately choose to reach out to those around me in an effort to include them and help them to understand what being trans means to me so that should they, one day, come across one of my trans-brothers or -sisters they may be able to offer a kind word of support and a little understanding.

page updated 10 January 2011