My Funny Valentine by Ms Sugar Swan
February. St Valentine’s Day. Ancient Roman fertility celebration? Christian Priest Valentine who defied his Emperor and performed marriages without his blessing?
There are a lot of conflicting takes on the origins of Valentine’s Day but no amount of reading and history takes the sting out of the tail for this time of year for me.
Being an absolutely hopeless romantic, I am always so happy to see others in love. It brings a tear to my eye when I see friends and family have ‘that look’ in their eyes as they look at their partner. I feel a great deal of happiness but those feelings are occasionally smeared with feelings of sadness that I don’t and have never really experienced those feelings for myself.
I haven’t been lucky in love over my 35 years construed as male. This has never been for lack of suitors lining up to do what so many have failed to do before them – get me to settle down. I have experimented in relationships with men and women over the years, but of course both sexes were looking for a boyfriend or husband, none of them were looking to me as a girlfriend or wife. If I had £1 for every person that has told me how sexually an attractive man I was over the years I would have enough money to pay for the facial feminisation surgery (FFS), gender conformation surgery (GCS, vaginoplasty), breast augmentation (BA), hair transplant, laser hair removal and every other expensive treatment that I’m never likely to ever afford to allow me to live the life I deserve, the life I should have been born into, the life that cisgender people take for granted – to have my sex match my gender.
“I looked at myself in the mirror and I said, ‘you can be an attractive man or an ugly woman – which is itto be?’. Suicidal ideation made that decision for me and thankfully I began transition”
I don’t wish to seem ungrateful as the NHS in England will, for some transwomen, pay for hormones, eight sessions of hair removal and GCS. Whilst I’m grateful that I live in a country with a health system, and a health system that recognises the transgender community being in medical need, and in no way claim to have it as bad as my sisters across the world (a plight that I intend on becoming more active in this year), there are places where the coin would have fallen more favourably towards me and the health service would pay for BA and FFS, the latter being such an important part of safety for so many women like myself who, to be able to move through the world without fear of abuse or much worse, need some tweaks to their facial appearance.
And there we have it. Plain and Simple. Why can I not maintain a relationship? Why have I remained mostly single throughout my life despite being regarded as highly desired? Because my sex does not match my gender – it never has. It doesn’t matter how many compliments I’ve been paid in the past, those compliments have been directed at my sex, and however well-meant those compliments, they fed into my gender dysphoria (GD).
At one point in the turbulent year that lead up to the beginning of my transition, when I never saw a time in the future that I would be viewed as a woman, and to be honest, I still don’t feel that way now most days, I looked at myself in the mirror and I said, ‘you can be an attractive man or an ugly woman – which is it to be?’. Suicidal ideation made that decision for me and thankfully I began transition.
I’m in a place now where I’m truly happy with my gender, not my appearance, but my gender. I’m a woman. I know I’m a woman. I feel like a woman, but do I look like a woman? Unfortunately not. This has led to a years worth (so far) of celibacy for me. When I knew that I was a woman but presented male I was able to pass as male, I was able to have sex with gay men or straight women but now I’m way past that stage, I can’t pretend to be male for the sake of sex even if I wanted to – which I most certainly don’t!
Oestrogen is working well for me and there are too many things that now, naked, free of make up, clothing and wigs give me away as not male. I have no body hair, my voice is changing, my skin is softer, I smell different, 75% of my facial hair has been lasered off, my testicles and penis have shrunk, I am unable to get an erection and I have breast growth.
So where does this leave me, both sexually and romantically on Valentine’s 2017? Well, it puts me in a pretty good place actually; a better one than I’ve ever been in before as I’m finally being true to myself. My true aesthetic potential may not be realised yet but I go into this year with my mind open to dating and finding people who will accept me for the woman I am with the physicality I currently have whilst I am under transition. Will I get the new body and face I so long for in the coming years? Will I find someone to love me?
Who knows, but until then I’ll just have to make the most of what I have and put a brave face on – even if it isn’t mine.
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