Today, a particularly nice afternoon with some tea and a good book made me aware of one of the greatest things about transition for me: Allowing myself to be soft and permitting softness in my life.

Pre-transition I always felt this toxic need to be hard, to be a man, to be strong and never show emotion. I was trapped in the narrow role men are allowed in cishet-normative society. I felt like the world wanted me to be this boulder without feelings. I even went to the gym to "toughen up", I never went out of my way to make my apartment more comfortable, I never sent heart emojis, I didn't empathise with others nearly as much as I do now.

Now, a year and a half into medical transition and a good two years into social transition, I am so so soft. Physically as well was emotionally and spiritually. My hands are soft, uncallused. My nails are so pretty. My skin is soft. I adore soft fabrics, I'm currently wearing velvet pants that just spark joy. I love curling up in bed in soft blankets, with plushies. I love warmth. I love the feeling of my soft rug when I get out of bed. I allow myself to be soft, to cry when hurt, to feel my emotions. Hell, to feel, at all! I love texting my friends cute things, I love lifting them up and making them feel good when I say I love them. I don't feel bad when I complain about something being hard or cold or unpleasant. I'm a softie, and that's not only okay, that's great!

Feel free to comment if you've had a similar (or different!) experience :) Just sharing a conversation starter here.

So after I recently received news that my GRS coverage was denied which means that surgery is not a few months but likely years away, I spiralled pretty hard. And by pretty hard, I mean more than ever. The last three weeks, I've been more depressed than ever. Even more than before HRT. Because I was climbing a mountain, came close to the top and then it suddenly moved. I started smoking again for self-harm like I did before HRT. I stayed in bed for hours and hours, more than I've ever done. I either don't eat at all or overeat. I broke down crying in public multiple times in the first week after the news. I became scared of going outside because I didn't want everyone to see me cry again. I cried every morning after waking up for 10 days.

It's gotten better now. A bit. Reality is still the same, I'm still in complete despair at the thought of having to bear a penis for such a long time. I contemplated suicide for the first time in years. I'm not doing well at all, but in an attempt to see the positives and the good sides of life, I want to write a list with the things that I've managed in the 18 months that I'm on HRT and seriously transitioning now (It's on the day, actually! I started on March 13 2024). I had this idea when I read my HRT diary (highly recommend keeping one). I'm only allowing positives here, no particular order.

• I'm almost done with my Master's degree and will finish it in March with a very good grade (if I'm still alive then)
• I started writing and performing my prose and was able to put my experience into words that have moved crowds of up to 80 people
• I cried, a lot. I accessed my emotions for the first time since childhood
• I've been wearing my long natural nails for almost all of HRT and still regularly get compliments on them
• I developed friendships with my female friends that run deeper than I ever imagined friendship could go
• I finally felt allowed to send heart emojis without feeling like implying something romantic
• I've allowed myself to become so much softer in spirit
• I started taking care of my body and hygiene
• I grew cute little boobs I love. It feels right to have to protect my chest
• I can wear the clothes I want to wear every day without being hate crimed (well, except for if they're tight in the crotch... :( )
• I went on a date with a man this week, we sat down in a bar and the waiter asked: "And for the lady?", looking at me
• I changed my name officially and haven't been misgendered by anyone outside my family since March this year
• I got some cool tattoos I always wanted but didn't want looking like a man because I felt they were toxic. I love them
• I now have girl legs
• My hairline has started coming back
• I permitted myself to buy so many purple things. So many
• I have gone to a beauty salon twice now and the lady there was nice to me and not transphobic. I felt safe there and loved the treatment
• I now allow myself to not know things or not be able to do them. I lost the inner pressure of competence I always felt before transition (this is a bit misogynistic)
• I discovered that I like BDSM and whipping men lol
• I learned what it means to be desired and wanted
• I feel so free to just wear what I like and love how much fun fashion has become. It's become my lifeline and one of my favourite hobbies.
• I felt like a complete person for the first time
• I learned what unconditional love (by friends) is
• Women now sit next to me on the train, without hesitation
• I learned what it feels like to not be perceived as a threat in public
• People look at me now not only because I look weird but because I look hot and cool
• I'm celebrating my birthday next week and I only invited friends I see regularly and would consider someone I'd reach out to when I need help. I invited 18 people. This is a blessing.
• I learned what it feels like to speak with another trans person and just understand each other without words immediately
• I learned that however alone I feel, I am not truly alone and that my mind is trying to trick me into despair
• I dared to get a nose job and am so so much happier with my face now
• I don't have problems going to a hairdresser anymore because they won't be confused why I want a feminine haircut
• I'm not scared in the drugstore anymore when I look at the makeup section. The first few times made me throw up and I only managed a few seconds. Now I feel like I belong
• Sometimes, strangers (always women) smile at me on the street. I'm still so surprised by that that I don't manage to smile back in time, often
• People have started giving me the benefit of the doubt. I haven't been shouted at or criticised in months
• I learned what it feels like to live longer than I ever imagined I would
• I dared to go against my conservative parents and upbringing and tried to find happiness in a game of life that has the odds stacked against me
• It doesn't look weird anymore when I'm at home just wearing a t-shirt with no pants

I think this is my list, for now. There's probably lots of things I forgot but honestly, just writing it down helped. Maybe y'all want to comment your lists?

Well, it's happened. Three months ago, I made a post here asking about how to cope with the wait for surgery (By the way, thank you for all the nice comments. They were very helpful and I regret I just didn't have the energy to reply. But know they were appreciated a lot). I was aiming for January. I prepared all the documents, collected them over months and put in my application for coverage. And today, the answer came back. Denied. I did everything right. All the right documents, all the right doctors. The reason for the denial? They say I need to provide proof for 12 months of therapy. This is an old guideline. The current guideline, which has been in place since 2020 says: 6 months. I paid a therapist out of my own pocket without their coverage for exactly 6 months of therapy. This was about 2000€. And now they, who are literally the institution made for adhering to their guidelines, are disrespecting their own guidelines.

Respectfully, I can't fucking believe it. I read the e-mail four hours ago and I'm still in tears. Of course I'll appeal it. It'll probably work, they're factually wrong. But this delay means I won't have surgery this winter. It'll be summer at least before I have surgery, everything takes ages in this transphobic, terrible system. Initially, I just went to therapy because they made me, because I needed the hours for the application. But this system is making me sick. It's making me mentally ill, it's making me consider suicide. I don't know how to cope with having a penis any longer. The wait until January felt impossible. And now it's postponed, at least months. Maybe years, who knows at this point? The thought of having to endure this body so much longer makes me physically sick. I want to throw up. I can't do this anymore, it's so painful. Honestly, one of the most painful things, if not THE, I've ever experienced.

Another summer with a penis. Another year without being seen as human by dates. Another summer without swimming, without tight dresses, without cute bottoms. Another year of wasting my youth on the most horrifying thing I wouldn't even wish my worst enemy: transition. I know it's an ungrateful thing to say and positivity should be embraced but right now I'm on the ground and I'll just say it: I wish I was cis. I would do anything for it. I'd kill, unironically.

Rant over. I'm sorry, I just had to get this out.

Had two interactions with men in public today.

First guy walked next to me, I was on my phone, he walked uncomfortably close.

Him: Hey, how are you?

I looked at him, half-thinking maybe we know each other from somewhere, pretty quickly knew: No, we don't. So I just said:

Good.

I turned onto a park pathway. He kept walking next to me, so I said:

And?

Him: Ohh, I'm good. Where are you going?

Me, increasingly confused: Home?

Him: I'm coming with you!

Me, walking faster: Oh hell you aren't, bye!

Him, speeding up with me: I just want to ask you something!

Me: You're not asking me anything, get away!

And then he finally gave up. Honestly, it was fucking creepy. He then stood there and stared at me until I was gone. I was scared. And so happy he didn't follow me further. I'll file this under "Situations I'm glad I'm 6ft tall and look a bit scary".

Second guy: I was waiting at an intersection and then walked to the other side on red when there were no cars. He was stood on the other side. Then, when I passed him:

You'd be the perfect model!

He was nice about it. Even said it in the respectful form in my language that signals distance and respect, him clearly older than me. I said thanks, we smiled at each other. End of interaction. (There's a whole other conversation to be had about situations like this but that's for another day)

The duality of men, I guess. And also: This is what it means to pass, I guess.

Hey y'all, this is a bit of a personal rant and maybe a space for other people to share their experiences in the comments. I'm just looking for some advice on how to make the wait for bottom surgery more bearable.

Mine is probably about 6-8 months away, though I don't have an exact surgery date yet. There are some days where it's really fine and I don't even notice my parts down there but then there are others where it's unbearable to even get out of bed. Sometimes I just want to cut the damn thing off myself, I feel like I can't bear to lug it around for even one more day.

I know that I'm a woman (ish) no matter my genitals but it just pisses me off so much that I'll forever be an experiment for people (especially men) when I try dating as long as I don't have a vulva. That I can't go to women's changing rooms without having a complete breakdown (I did it once and have avoided them since in the last 1.5 years). That I can't go swimming in the same clothes all my friends can. That I can't enjoy buying nice underwear because it always looks so horribly wrong. That I feel it every second of every day, that I always have to cover it up when I wear tight bottoms, that I always have to worry and think about it. I hate it, I really do. Every time I touch it, it feels more like a tumor or some kind of demon that has manifested in my body. My bottom dysphoria has become worse and worse the better everything else gets. You win some, you lose some, I guess. All in all, life has gotten significantly better in the last two years for me. I feel like I still have the same amount of dysphoria as I did before starting HRT, only now it's concentrated more on this part of my body.

Okay, rant over, haha. Hope to hear some of your experiences and what helped you through the wait.

Well, it's more or less in the title. I've been on HRT for about 10 months now and I have significantly decreased my alcohol intake since then, didn't drink at all in the first two months. I now have a drink about every two weeks and of course, my tolerance is way down. But I've noticed that while I'm fine drinking wine (and drunk after two glasses, which is fine), beer is absolutely not an option anymore. I just get sick in the stomach after having even just one beer. I've tried lager and Guinness and they've both produced the same effect. It's not really a problem for me, though I would enjoy a pint here and there.

Anyone else here who had the same happen to them? Is there any biological/hormonal/chemical reason for it maybe?