Well it had to happen someday! I’ve been wrestling with breaking my anonymity for a little while now. My coming out process as friends, family and regular readers know, has been a public one. I am transitioning from female to male while I am recovering from a serious depression, and I am doing it visibly, openly and, yes, bravely.
I am on the cusp of my testosterone therapy and I am already socially transitioning. i.e. in what is called my ‘Real Life Experience’, as far as I can prior to my body catching up up with my social gender and my brain.
I have just had to switch GPs as I was experiencing what I felt to be resistance to accepting my identity. My former GP continued to refer to me as she, and clearly had not made any pro-active attempts to find out what she could about transgender and transexual health care. This week I met my new GP and she was exactly what I was looking for – another professional with whom I could have an adult professional relationship with and who respected fundamentally my gender identity. I left with a prescription for my mad tablets (what I affectionately call my anti-depressants) in the new NHS name of Mr Sam Feeney. A big first and one that tells me even more so – why the hell can’t my fucking bank, Santander, take the ‘Ms’ off my debit card when I request it??? Because, dear reader, ‘the computer says no’…..
What a total load of pants!!! Of course my bank could take the ‘Ms’ off my bloody card. I can get it taken off the Electoral Register. I can get it changed at work, at my doctors, and will be requesting every damn thing get changed as far as I can without my Gender Recognition Certificate. That’ll take a couple of years I reckon, for passport, birth certificate, and getting married. I found out that if me and my fiancee get hitched before I get my GRC then I’d have to divorce her to get my GRC. Another reason why civil partnership should be legally identical to marriage!!
I have come out successfully to everyone at work, including a few young people to date. They have been amazing with some lovely words of respect and acceptance for me:
“You may have been born a girl Sam, but you’ve got massive bollocks”, 16 year old young man.
“It’s your body, you do what you want with it”, 15 year old young man.
I have heard stories of other transgender people they know, have felt the acceptance of difference that comes in positive healthy relationships, and I am immensely proud of the way in which people around me have opened their hearts and accepted me and my difference, with the utmost respect and genuine sensitivity.
I am a lucky man.