I was initially so worried about my coming out seeming like an attention seeking thing, or like I was expecting anyone other than myself to treat it as a big deal, that I waited for opportunities to slip it in so casually that it’s like I don’t even really care myself.

A couple of examples.

Friend: “Excited for your trip to the US?”
Me: “Mostly, yeah. Just a little apprehensive. It’s a bit less trans friendly over there. You know I’m trans right?”

Friend: “What’s new?”
Me: “Name. Pronouns. That’s about it though.”

I came out to one person by presenting aggressively feminine when we caught up for coffee one day. Ripped off the bandaid, got that obvious topic out of the way, that was it.

One person I knew I wasn’t going to see for a while, but I really wanted to tell her, so I said something like “you might want to update my contact info in your phone, new name, sorry to be a pain”. She was thrilled and asked me for a new photo to go with the new name.

Thank you. I was under the impression that hyphen and en dash were identical glyphs. As someone with a habit of chiding others for using the wrong sort of horizontal stroke, this was a dangerous misunderstanding for me to have.

The en dash is the appropriate kind of dash in this instance, not em.

Too nervous because it might make people jealous? Cute girl is cute!

Mmmyeah… My jaw hurts. Night night.

Hahaaaa yeah! This is what it’s all about.

Believe that you are a cool person who people want to hear from. Then let me know how you managed that because I never got the hang of it.

I am also bored, but so very tired, but I don’t want to sleep and nothing is entertaining me. I think I’ve achieved total dopamine bankruptcy. I’m going to chew my way through 14 pieces of strawberry flavoured gum. Maybe that’ll do something.

God DAMN that’s a gorgeous colour! How many selfies since you got home?

I found that without T, I’m unable to dissociate the way I used to. Panic attacks were often a sign that I was about to poof out of reality. Not my life; not my problem. Now I’m stuck here in reality, which is certainly for the best, but it created a learning curve during my first few months. Emotions are a maze that I used to teleport out of without trying. Now I have to actually find the way out. It’s a more satisfying way to live, but I’ll admit that it was terrifying at first. I’d spent decades with this defense mechanism, and I hadn’t really developed any others.

I feel similarly disconnected from my mother, and describe the way I feel about her as a logical love rather than an emotional one. I’ve read a lot of your posts, and I think you have more reasons to feel this way than I do, but the feeling you describe resonates strongly with me.

I appreciate that I’m lucky to have the parents I have, and that they have supported me through a lot. However, particularly with my mother, I did not feel seen or understood at my lowest points. I felt chastised for being the way that I was instead of a different, better way that was more relatable to her.

There are other people, relatives and otherwise, who have made me feel more understood. People who didn’t make me feel inherently flawed for being the way I am, or have been. Those people have earned a more sincere love from me. It’s not a spiteful thing. That’s just the way it worked out. There are people in the world with whom I’ve found a deeper connection than the one I have with my mother, and I don’t feel a strong need to change that. I don’t see it as a problem.

Hottest thing about me? Probably my poor eyesight.

If you ever feel like your job is a pointless waste of time, consider the US Department of Education.

I’ve done next to nothing this year, and this month came to accept that 2026 will not in fact be “my year” at all! It might be even less my year than 2025 was. So yes, I completely understand. I don’t feel like hearing reflections on this year, or optimistic predictions about the next. I prefer to pretend that time is standing as still as I am.

Yeah, I’ve been obsessively reading everything I can about progesterone, and the matter of oral v rectal always comes up. I can’t deny the science, but like I say, I do what my doctor tells me. When I get my bloods done for my next appointment, she expects to see the levels resulting from 3 months of orally administered progesterone, and changing dose or ROA at this stage just makes it harder to analyse that data. Honestly I would find all of this easier to bear if I knew that it was adequately suppressing my T, and not converting into DHT, but I’m not convinced of either of these things. Anyway, just gotta make it to February, and I’ll ask for my doctor’s blessing to boof.

This top is too short with this skirt…

This top is too long with this skirt.

But the bodysuit is always juuuuust right.

Until the boobs come in and they don’t fit anymore.

I started HRT 11 months ago, and I have now been tired for 10 months. Around month 9 I stopped making a lot of plans I would have made otherwise. I don’t go out nearly as much now, because I don’t want to risk going to all the effort of going out just to find that I’m too tired to stand.

I have hope that things will turn around, but I’ve spent a lot of time this year searching for reassurance that others struggle with this past the initial few months. There are a lot of people who quickly got over their fatigue, and report feeling “more energetic than ever before” on E, which I found disheartening as that has not been my experience at all.

Here is my analysis of my energy troughs this year.

2 – 3 months: Initial reduction in testosterone after starting estrogen. It wasn’t a smooth start either. I was using patches at the time. Convinced that my dose was insufficient on the basis of some pretty bullshit reasoning, I self prescribed a second patch. To give me energy! Then I went a little crazy, and decided that the remedy was more estrogen, so I slapped on a third patch. I was basically incapable of sleeping for longer than an hour towards the end of this period, which can be expected of a person with very high estrogen. My endocrinologist eventually saw my insanely high E, I came clean, she told me off, and now I’m a good girl who follows her medical practitioners’ advice to the letter.

5 – 6 months: With the addition of cyproterone, my testosterone nosedived. I believe cyproterone on its own, anti–androgenic effects aside, is kind of a lot for the body to adjust to as well. I was getting up at 7 and going back to bed at 11 some days.

9 – 10 months: Cyproterone stopped working, as cyproterone has been known to do, and I had to increase my dose. So basically my T rose to somewhere between female and male range, then nosedived again. A few weeks later, I was going through the same adjustment as last time, but moreso. This was the point at which I started telling people that I’m staying home for all but the most important events.

11 months: Cyproterone is out because I was getting so upset by the fatigue. Started on progesterone instead and discovered that I am not one of the people who feels happier, less anxious and more rested after sleeping. Nope, I’m an anxious, depressed megabitch on progesterone. My dreams are terrifying, I wake up crying all the time, every sound puts me on edge, and I also weirdly feel emotionally numbed like I did on SSRIs. So we’ll see where this goes, but I feel like I’ve leapt backwards in my transition with this decision, and I am still SO TIRED!

As a bonus, I was diagnosed with POTS recently, which I know I’ve had since my teens, but which only became a problem in need of a solution in the absence of testosterone. This also impacts my sleep and energy.

One positive thing I take away from this is that I must really want this. 'Cause things really suck right now, but never have I ever considered slowing or pausing my transition. A year ago I was all “but what if I’m not really trans”, and now I think I’d sooner get a mobility scooter than stop HRT.

I hope things will be different for you, but I don’t want you to be discouraged if they aren’t, and I don’t want you to feel like something is wrong with you if things still suck 11 months in.

We did it, everyone! We avoided Christmas!

Well I did.

I like how @sp3ctr4l@lemmy.dbzer0.com broke down the varying definitions in this comment.

If you traverse the pipeline briskly, you’ll be fine. Do not linger in the middle of the pipeline.