there really are no words to describe it.
You know when you're stuck in traffic and you know the freeway is going to be clear soon, but you just have to wait it out because there's no way out of the jam? This is sort-of like that.
When I started my transition, I didn't really have a goal of when I would have my surgery done, but I knew I wanted it. I knew that it would happen, but it wasn't the first thing on my list. At the time I was working full-time at the grocery store making OK-ish money with mediocre union insurance.
I was mainly focused on getting people to use the right name and pronouns. Once that finally set in, my next focus really was just making sure I stayed regular on my shots once a week (boy did I not realize what a daunting task my shots would soon become) and presenting well in public while my voice was changing. Once I got that down, I had left working at the grocery store and started working at Home Depot overnight on the MET team. It was really fun, but I worked on a crew of cisgender males. I kept up with them and did as much work as they did which was awesome, until one of them found out I wasn't "like the rest of them". Then it was time to find a new job. I immediately lost respect from half of them.They were all older guys who were basically just working for the insurance. I'd had enough of it.
It got a little better.
After I left that job, I started working for this really sketchy retail reset company overnight. No one there even really gave a shit about me as long as I did my work and didn't steal anything. I guess the employees they'd had before me were real winners. Which, actually, isn't surprising since they hired folks fresh outta the pen. Needless to be said, I soon left that job and started working for Nike.com. I was there for a while, everyone seemed to be respectful, but it still wasn't the place I needed to work to make sure that I could continue my transition. So I left.
Where I work now is a magical place full of support and respect. That's exactly what you need to make sure that you can continue your transition in a healthy way.
It can take some time and some searching, but I guarantee you there is a place out there that will support you and help you to be your best self. Don't give up. I'm coming into my 4th year on testosterone and almost my 5th year into my transition. I felt like I was never going to catch up with bills, let alone find a way to shell out $6,500 for top surgery. Luckily, I was able to get it covered by insurance through Anthem Blue Cross.
Always be on the lookout for ways to improve. Yourself, your work life, your home life, all of it. You need to be your best self, and always make sure that your life is as amazing as it can be.
I'm finally being released from a cage.
This cage is a nylon spandex tank top that I can't go anywhere without putting on. It's hot, uncomfortable, causes posture issues, skin breakouts, rashes and constantly needs adjusting.Not to mention the breathing issues it's caused. It's actually really strange to think that this is the very same garment that once saved me from so much self doubt and body image issues. Struggling to put this thing on every morning is almost enough to make you not even want to get out of bed at all.
But you've got to keep going.
Push through the self-doubt. Push through the dysphoria. You've already made it this far. You've made it through "the talks" with family, with friends, even with strangers. You've been fighting the good fight and your time will come. You need to take control of this life you live, because it's the best damn thing.
My ticket has finally been called. Yours will, too.
You have the power to create a great life. You're the one that always comes first. You need to be happy in order to make others happy.
If you need resources, have questions, need someone to talk to, vent to or anything at all, please reach out to me. I'm here for you, boo. You got this.
YOU CAN CALL ME DANISH
Writing about my life and experiences as a white, transgender, queer male.