You’ll Never Guess What I Postmated This Week
I’m transgender and this is what saves my mental health.
Allow me to set the stage for you for a minute. It’s May 2020, COVID19 is running rampant through the world and I’ve just moved from Los Angeles back to the San Francisco Bay Area —my dearest Oakland, to be precise.
I’m transgender and newer in my gender transition (that’s what this whole column is about: my gender transition and grappling with healthy masculinity). I was feeling pretty good about life and moving back to the Bay Area when an unwelcomed visitor came to greet me. Yes, every transgender man’s worst nightmare: his period.
Half the time I can’t even say the word period it makes me so uncomfortable. That and the word boobs. So I opt for ‘cycle’ and ‘chest’ to make it slightly more manageable and to be totally honest, more manly.
Now maybe there are ladies reading this and I’m sure many of them dislike their periods when they come. This is real and I think I spent enough years in a woman’s body to know, they can be rough. Disliking one’s cycle is a part of the shared humanity of the female experience.
But imagine now that you are a man. For all intents and purposes of the word, you identify as male.
