Growing up Trans - The Real Life Test
Oct. 19th, 2011 05:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dolariGrowing up Trans - The Real Life Test
The Real Life Test
With my new name, and a tankful of gas (my first official act as Jennifer Christine McCheetofingers), I came home and bounced off the walls for a few days.
I often say that I transitioned in 1997. Which is true. About 1997 is when I was switching back and forth as I felt comfortable, and I wasn't always comfortable. I remember specifically going to a park my very first time out with Dean in early 97, and being absolutely petrified. Another time I was just fine. I was more often a woman than a man, but I was still flipping back and forth.
I made a decision - after the name change, no more flipping. That next week, despite not having any hormones yet, my therapist and I decided it was time to start the real life test. I needed to spend two years as a woman to qualify for surgery.
The Plan as of 1999:
1)Move out by 1992. Completed 1996. Recompleted 1997.
2)Six months of therapy for hormones by 1993. Self-destructed 1993 completed 1998.
2a) Actually start hormones...eventually.
3) Two years of living as a woman startedby 1994. in 1999.
4) Surgery in1999. 2001.
Everything I'd learned from Steph, Amy, Angie, JD and even Michael boiled down to something half the population does everyday: Be a woman. All day, every day, no ifs ands or buts.
At first it was easy - I just stayed home and looked for work. Michael had been doing really well at his job, and I often spent time there, before my test, helping out. Michael had gotten a better offer at a different printing place. His position was vacant. I'd been helping him so much, that they already knew me there, knew I could do the work. But they knew that Boy-Jenn could do the work. One or two knew about Girl-Jenn.
So I mailed in a resume with my new name, and crossed my fingers.
AND I GOT THE JOB!
...with one caveat.
The management at the store had talked it over. They knew I could do the work, as I'd been helping out for some time. But they weren't sure about this whole transgender thing, now that they knew Jenn was short for Jennifer.
I could have the job, and I could be a woman, but during the probation period, they wanted me working as a male. I could keep my long hair, as long as it was nicely androgynously styled. But the first 90 days, I had to be male.
From what I heard later, they were desperately afraid that I'd sue if I was let go during the probationary period and a woman.
I'm a very compromising and understanding person, probably. I needed work, I needed to rebuild my surgery money, and I talked it over with my therapist. She was okay with it - but did say we'd reset that two year timer from the day they allowed me to work as a woman. I was okay with that - it wasn't like I was planning to change in stops and starts.
So, for 90 days, I toiled away, making brochures, resumes and business cards, waiting and waiting and waiting. On the weekend before my 90 days, I decided I needed to really make a commitment (if I hadn't already) to this real life test. Something that would leave a mark, something I'd never done before, and something educational.
So I went to a hair salon.
My mother had cut my hair all the way up to when I was 22. She kept it very close cropped in my earlier years, and let it grouw up in highschool (but still very close cropped). Once I moved out, I let my hair grow. But it was a fuzze ratty matted nest that would turn into a massive puffball when brushed out.
Working with hair is a feat of engineering marvels. So I went to the one place that seemed to fit that bill: The Hair Construction Company.
It was hard to get to, but with access to a parking lot in case I freaked and needed to flee. When I walked in, they asked me what kind of haircut I wanted. I told the stylist, bluntly, I don't know. I've never done this before. she started pointing out male styles, before I said, "it's a woman's cut I want. I'm going to be a woman tomorrow, and I'd like something nice."
She kind of looked at me funny. "And can you teach me how to keep it nice?" And then she smiled, and started looking at my hair. "It's a mess. But I have an idea."
She earned her gigantic tip that day. Turns out I have absolutely gorgeous hair when I'm told how to work with it. The natural curlyness that caused it to 'fro when it was short, or mat when it got long, would make natural ringlets when combed out correctly. She cut and sliced and trimmed, all the way telling me how to keep this going. "You'll need a single bristled brush, and a comb...after you wash your hair, keep it wet and use the brush until the hair is completely straight. Use the comb to part your bangs out, then run this mousse through your hair. Once it's all in, toss your hair with your fingers and let it air dry." She finished up, dusted me off, and I she finally let me look into the mirror.
I was ADORABLE.
...for that evening.
One lesson in highway engineering does not an engineer make.
I woke up early for my first day of work as Girl-Jenn. I got up, and spent about an hour trying desperately to get my hair to look okay, again. I got the back part. I didn't get the bangs at all, and I ended up looking like I was wearing a flauta on my forehead all day. I had to pick up a coworker, so I didn't have time to keep messing with it, and slathered on some basic makeup.
Everyone at work was polite, and complimented me...but the costumers were a bit more frank. I looked a mess. But it was a start, and with more practice, I got better at looking nice. But I never got the hang of those curled forehead bangs - I wore a flauta on my head for a LONG time, until another hairdresser had different ideas for me, and my sausage roll forehead became a trailing bang that really looked kinda sexy in a Veronica Lake kind of look.
In the end, management told me having me come to work male was a mistake. It led to a lot of confusion with the customers, and even a few complaints. After a few weeks, everything died down, and I was a happy productive woman of society.
Unfortunately, both Michael and I weren't getting paid very well, and we were at the top of our games in State College. My surgery nest-egg was small, and not getting mcuh larger at all. After much soul searching, we decided that a move to Austin, where our fortunes would bring in more fortune, was in store.
After talking with my therapist, she said that as long as I was keeping up my with my test (and pay her back owed payments), she would sign my surgery papers.
I applied for an in-company transfer to a branch in Austin, and that summer, a very different person returned to her home.
Growing Up Trans Chapters:
Preschool - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238402.html
Elementary School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238626.html
The Nightmare of Fifth Grade (NSFW, and a bit TMI) - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238939.html
Middle School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239155.html
High school - Year 1 & 2 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239578.html
High school - Year 3 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2240215.html
High school - Year 4 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2241302.html
Opening up to a Whole New World - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2242118.html
Intermission #1 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2245139.html
The Boulton and Park Society - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243005.html
The Birth of Jenn Dolari - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243105.html
Life with Geri - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2244596.html
False Starts - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2244834.html
New Name, New Home - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2245871.html
The Real Life Test
With my new name, and a tankful of gas (my first official act as Jennifer Christine McCheetofingers), I came home and bounced off the walls for a few days.
I often say that I transitioned in 1997. Which is true. About 1997 is when I was switching back and forth as I felt comfortable, and I wasn't always comfortable. I remember specifically going to a park my very first time out with Dean in early 97, and being absolutely petrified. Another time I was just fine. I was more often a woman than a man, but I was still flipping back and forth.
I made a decision - after the name change, no more flipping. That next week, despite not having any hormones yet, my therapist and I decided it was time to start the real life test. I needed to spend two years as a woman to qualify for surgery.
The Plan as of 1999:
1)
2)
2a) Actually start hormones...eventually.
3) Two years of living as a woman started
4) Surgery in
Everything I'd learned from Steph, Amy, Angie, JD and even Michael boiled down to something half the population does everyday: Be a woman. All day, every day, no ifs ands or buts.
At first it was easy - I just stayed home and looked for work. Michael had been doing really well at his job, and I often spent time there, before my test, helping out. Michael had gotten a better offer at a different printing place. His position was vacant. I'd been helping him so much, that they already knew me there, knew I could do the work. But they knew that Boy-Jenn could do the work. One or two knew about Girl-Jenn.
So I mailed in a resume with my new name, and crossed my fingers.
AND I GOT THE JOB!
...with one caveat.
The management at the store had talked it over. They knew I could do the work, as I'd been helping out for some time. But they weren't sure about this whole transgender thing, now that they knew Jenn was short for Jennifer.
I could have the job, and I could be a woman, but during the probation period, they wanted me working as a male. I could keep my long hair, as long as it was nicely androgynously styled. But the first 90 days, I had to be male.
From what I heard later, they were desperately afraid that I'd sue if I was let go during the probationary period and a woman.
I'm a very compromising and understanding person, probably. I needed work, I needed to rebuild my surgery money, and I talked it over with my therapist. She was okay with it - but did say we'd reset that two year timer from the day they allowed me to work as a woman. I was okay with that - it wasn't like I was planning to change in stops and starts.
So, for 90 days, I toiled away, making brochures, resumes and business cards, waiting and waiting and waiting. On the weekend before my 90 days, I decided I needed to really make a commitment (if I hadn't already) to this real life test. Something that would leave a mark, something I'd never done before, and something educational.
So I went to a hair salon.
My mother had cut my hair all the way up to when I was 22. She kept it very close cropped in my earlier years, and let it grouw up in highschool (but still very close cropped). Once I moved out, I let my hair grow. But it was a fuzze ratty matted nest that would turn into a massive puffball when brushed out.
Working with hair is a feat of engineering marvels. So I went to the one place that seemed to fit that bill: The Hair Construction Company.
It was hard to get to, but with access to a parking lot in case I freaked and needed to flee. When I walked in, they asked me what kind of haircut I wanted. I told the stylist, bluntly, I don't know. I've never done this before. she started pointing out male styles, before I said, "it's a woman's cut I want. I'm going to be a woman tomorrow, and I'd like something nice."
She kind of looked at me funny. "And can you teach me how to keep it nice?" And then she smiled, and started looking at my hair. "It's a mess. But I have an idea."
She earned her gigantic tip that day. Turns out I have absolutely gorgeous hair when I'm told how to work with it. The natural curlyness that caused it to 'fro when it was short, or mat when it got long, would make natural ringlets when combed out correctly. She cut and sliced and trimmed, all the way telling me how to keep this going. "You'll need a single bristled brush, and a comb...after you wash your hair, keep it wet and use the brush until the hair is completely straight. Use the comb to part your bangs out, then run this mousse through your hair. Once it's all in, toss your hair with your fingers and let it air dry." She finished up, dusted me off, and I she finally let me look into the mirror.
I was ADORABLE.
...for that evening.
One lesson in highway engineering does not an engineer make.
I woke up early for my first day of work as Girl-Jenn. I got up, and spent about an hour trying desperately to get my hair to look okay, again. I got the back part. I didn't get the bangs at all, and I ended up looking like I was wearing a flauta on my forehead all day. I had to pick up a coworker, so I didn't have time to keep messing with it, and slathered on some basic makeup.
Everyone at work was polite, and complimented me...but the costumers were a bit more frank. I looked a mess. But it was a start, and with more practice, I got better at looking nice. But I never got the hang of those curled forehead bangs - I wore a flauta on my head for a LONG time, until another hairdresser had different ideas for me, and my sausage roll forehead became a trailing bang that really looked kinda sexy in a Veronica Lake kind of look.
In the end, management told me having me come to work male was a mistake. It led to a lot of confusion with the customers, and even a few complaints. After a few weeks, everything died down, and I was a happy productive woman of society.
Unfortunately, both Michael and I weren't getting paid very well, and we were at the top of our games in State College. My surgery nest-egg was small, and not getting mcuh larger at all. After much soul searching, we decided that a move to Austin, where our fortunes would bring in more fortune, was in store.
After talking with my therapist, she said that as long as I was keeping up my with my test (and pay her back owed payments), she would sign my surgery papers.
I applied for an in-company transfer to a branch in Austin, and that summer, a very different person returned to her home.
Growing Up Trans Chapters:
Preschool - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238402.html
Elementary School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238626.html
The Nightmare of Fifth Grade (NSFW, and a bit TMI) - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2238939.html
Middle School - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239155.html
High school - Year 1 & 2 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2239578.html
High school - Year 3 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2240215.html
High school - Year 4 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2241302.html
Opening up to a Whole New World - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2242118.html
Intermission #1 - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2245139.html
The Boulton and Park Society - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243005.html
The Birth of Jenn Dolari - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2243105.html
Life with Geri - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2244596.html
False Starts - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2244834.html
New Name, New Home - http://jenndolari.livejournal.com/2245871.html
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Date: 2011-10-20 03:32 am (UTC)I had much the same experience.
I know that writing all this is difficult, but I've sincerely enjoyed reading it. Thank you.