Hmm...
That appointment wasn't quite what I'd hoped it would be. It was a lot of new agey sound and fury, signifying nothing. A lot of stuff about what experiences I'm hoping to get as a man that I won't as a woman (uh, looking in a mirror and seeing myself?) and making space for my fear and uncertainty and enjoying the anticipation/anxiety of not knowing who I am or what I need to do and learning to tap into the feelings of contentment and calm that I imagine when I think of myself as a man so that I realise that I can experience them in my current body.
He also, for someone who claims to be working with other transgendered individuals, doesn't seem to understand it much. He frequently seemed to think that gender identity and sexual orientation were the same thing and/or connected, he thought my depression over not passing was obviously because "it was opening night on my performance and no one had bought it" (I'm not a drag king, damn it) and that being gender identity questioning simply meant that I didn't want breasts. He was treating this like it was a scary but totally optional life change I was considering, like changing careers or moving to a new state, rather than a dysphoria I was trying to resolve without destroying my life.
I did, while talking with reccas_place afterward, come to some realisations and conclusions, but they're still tumbling round in my head and I'm not ready to get them on paper.
Here's to hoping Tuesday's appointment will go better. I also think I'm going to call the local expert, a sex therapist and the leader of the LGBTQ group at the local uni, on Monday and see if she offers any kind of sliding scale or lower fee for us poor skint folks.
He also, for someone who claims to be working with other transgendered individuals, doesn't seem to understand it much. He frequently seemed to think that gender identity and sexual orientation were the same thing and/or connected, he thought my depression over not passing was obviously because "it was opening night on my performance and no one had bought it" (I'm not a drag king, damn it) and that being gender identity questioning simply meant that I didn't want breasts. He was treating this like it was a scary but totally optional life change I was considering, like changing careers or moving to a new state, rather than a dysphoria I was trying to resolve without destroying my life.
I did, while talking with reccas_place afterward, come to some realisations and conclusions, but they're still tumbling round in my head and I'm not ready to get them on paper.
Here's to hoping Tuesday's appointment will go better. I also think I'm going to call the local expert, a sex therapist and the leader of the LGBTQ group at the local uni, on Monday and see if she offers any kind of sliding scale or lower fee for us poor skint folks.