On a Precipice

My precipice...

I ended my three year transition in November of 2001 at the age of 21.

I ended my transition because I hated hiding my past from everyone.  I hated doctoring up my childhood experiences so they were consistent with my current presentation.  I felt I constantly had to lie despite how much I value authenticity in my relationships.

I ended my transition because I felt I would never have what I truly wanted.  I wanted to marry in the temple and be a wife to a righteous priesthood holder and a mother to children who I raised in the church.  That future was impossible however.  It was highly unlikely a worthy priesthood holder would even go out with me once he knew my past much less marry me.  I could never marry in the temple, and would likely be separated from him in the hereafter.  Additionally, were I to have children, they would not understand why they could not be sealed to their mother, and if word got out as to my past, they could know no end of ridicule – something that might turn them from their faith.

I ended my transition because I believed the DSM-IV which listed my condition, GID, as a mental disorder.  I thought it lent weight to the fact that changing my body was somehow fundamentally wrong – that the real problem was in my head and the right way to treat it would be to treat the mind.

I ended my transition because I saw numerous others fail in their transitions, succeed in their transitions and be miserable, or never have the courage to try, and I believed that it was possible that transition wasn’t the only answer.  The DSM certainly backed that idea up even if it didn’t have an accompanying guidebook for treatment.

I ended my transition because the pain of my GID seemed to grow less while on hormones and I figured I could treat it as I went.  I believed that if I could learn to manage it, that I could help others to do the same, and eventually there would be a true cure for the brain.

I ended my transition because I felt a longing to the right thing: to do the thing that would help me and others to have the most happiness in this life and the next.  I believed ending my transition would allow me to be a regular participant in church again, take out my endowments and help me prepare to enter the Celestial kingdom.  My hope was that my life would be short so I could get there quickly.

For the next 9 years I would manage my GID as best as I could.  I’d have up and down days, but generally kept it in control.  I analyzed my condition to the nth degree, identified and nullified my triggers, worked with others to help me manage the depression and tried to serve as an example to others who didn’t want to transition.  I was perfectly active in church, and prayed and read my scriptures daily if not extremely regularly.

I managed my GID with hormones which kept the worst of the side effects at bay until January of 2011 when I was diagnoses with an extremely rare and deadly blood condition.  Because of the blood disorder, I can no longer take hormones at all, so I've had to fall back on trigger management 100%.

In June of 2010 I realized one of the greatest triggers still affecting me was attendance at church and the temple.  Up to that point I had tolerated it, but it was becoming more and more difficult to manage.  Coming home from church or the temple caused my partner to notice how distraught I was.  One Sunday morning while preparing a lesson for Priesthood about the Priesthood, something I’ve never truly understood or even felt that I had, I broke down.  I couldn’t take it any longer and couldn’t teach something I didn’t believe – the spiritual nature and eternal role of males was something that was so distant from my experience and I really disliked the expectation it put upon me.  I reached out for help, came out to bishop, quorum leaders and home teachers.  They never responded. 

The next time I heard from anyone was from a few missionaries on splits with a member from the ward came to my house a month ago.  They listened to me; I told them I wanted to come back but needed help dealing with my reservations and that I needed to gain a testimony of the Priesthood.  They made promises of continued communication and even asked if I’d accept a call from the new bishop.  I agreed to accept it when he called, but I have heard nothing since, not from the bishop, nor the member, nor the missionaries.

One of my core justifications for ending my transition (the church) is gone.  I still had one left, the affirmation from the DSM IV that GID is a mental disorder, and the hope that research would one day provide a cure to my brain.

In September that hope ended as well when I discovered that the APA announced officially that GID would be removed from the DSM V next May.  I had based so much of my choice to end transition, to seek alternate methods, and to hope for a cure for my brain on the fact that the DSM listed my condition as a brain disorder only to be told 10 years later, “oops, it really was a medical disorder all along with transition as the only acceptable path to treatment”.  One core belief I had is that my brain is lying to me, that my body is correct.  New and continued research and the APA’s decision now says, your brain is right, your body is wrong.

I have no foundation any longer upon which to stand.  The medical and GID community would have me transition, but it would destroy my current life with my partner.  The church would have me not transition and rejoin them, but experience has shown me there is no promise of relief there, only continued suffering.  I can no longer manage my GID with hormones because of my blood condition and I don’t know long much longer trigger management will help – it was never intended to be a permanent solution.

I have no foundation any longer.  Ending my transition was a grave mistake but one I can do nothing about now.  If I’m going to continue to make it through life without transition and keep my family in tact, it will have to be on a road less trodden.

So it's time to leap from my precipice and see where I end up.  I'm glad you are along for the ride.