Another Disadvantage of Late Gender Transition
It’s hard to break habits established over many decades
I love the stories about people who knew from a very early age that their gender didn’t match their bodies. Even more, I love the stories about people who followed up on that realization by transitioning as young adults. For those who are sure of their gender, early transition allows for a much broader range of opportunities and options than are available later.
I was 68 when I realized that I am a transgender woman. The lateness of my awakening had all sorts of consequences, not the least of which was an almost daily questioning of myself. It seemed ridiculous that a person my age would consider making such a drastic change in how I presented myself to the world.
My journal from the first year or so after my awakening has the characteristics of a broken record. The last sentence in the previous paragraph appears in some form many times a week, sometimes as often as daily. More recent journal entries are much less likely to include that particular thought. I have become more secure in my gender awareness, although it’s still hard to believe the turn my life has taken.
I struggle, however, to overcome the habits of thought and speech cemented over decades of practice. Particularly vexing is my tendency to refer to myself using male nouns and pronouns.
Today I was talking with a friend and said something like “I don’t see myself as a 70-year-old man.” That sentence would be fine except the point was the age I felt, not my gender. The completion of the thought would have been something like “I see myself more as a 35–45-year-old man.” If I realize I’m rushing through something — loading the dishwasher, following a recipe, or whatever — I’ll say to myself “Slow down, man!” or “Take it easy, buddy!”
In a similar vein, over the last two years, I’ve only had a couple of dreams in which I am a woman. In all the others, I am a man.
My rational side knows that these things happen because I lived as if I were a man for 68 years. My less rational side fears that they are indicators that I am wrong about my gender, that I am a man. Over time the rational side has gained strength — I’m much less likely to entertain or ruminate over those fears — but they still come up.
Speaking from my rational side, I know who I am. I know what I am. I hope that the old gender-mistaken habits will fade with time, but they don’t define me. They don’t even say anything about me, except that for me, as for most people, habits are hard to break.
On the other hand, this old dog has learned a lot of new tricks in the last couple of years — I’m pretty sure SHE will master the rest soon enough.
