Mail Order Gender Transition
Risking my life to save myself
Take two of these, and call me in the morning,
as the adage goes. With any luck, you’ll wake up a woman.
I looked down at the script now literally in my hands. I blinked to remember the moment. “So, you want the good stuff?”she had said. The words echoed in my head.
Tingles pulsed briefly through my body
like an emergency distress signal test.
…
Soft Surrender.
This new beginning had been a long time coming. It was nearly 3 years ago. And I was looking around the stark half-curtained examination room from the patient chair as my doctor went over the survey I had filled out. She talked about the clinic, and she talked about treatment options.
I could feel a huge sigh of relief from finally having a medical professional guiding me. Still anxious because I was newly and suddenly alone on this journey. The courtesy chair sat empty.
But also relief, because I had been playing with fire.
Relief because for at least a year prior,
I had tinkered with my body myself, DIY as it were.
And it haunted me.
It softened me.
It helped in mysterious ways.
But I also felt like I was risking my actual life.
And I needed…
