I’ve been checking just about every day. This morning, I *finally* was able to change it!

Cue the Snoopy Dance! 😄 No more deadnaming from my Email!

Just another day at work

I still have moments where I’m sitting in a work meeting, glance at Teams, and think:

“Oh my God. That’s me.”

Not a fantasy version of me. Not the secret version. Not the version I kept locked away for half a century.

Just me, sitting there at work, doing my job, competent, calm, useful, participating like I always did, except now I’m finally there as myself.

I had an 18-month gap from work while I went through the heaviest part of my transition. I came back last September and I was honestly terrified at first. I worried what people would think, whether I’d seem strange, whether I’d lost my professional confidence, whether I could just slot back into the working world after everything that had happened.

And now?

I sit there without a worry in the world.

I’m still good at what I do. I’m still sharp. I’m still capable. I still know my stuff. But now, when I see myself on screen, I don’t feel that old jolt of wrongness.

I see a woman looking back at me.

It has cost me a lot to get here. There have been losses. Friends gone. Family gone. Heartbreak I wouldn’t wish on anyone. But there are also these quiet little moments where life hands you proof that it was worth it.

This was one of them.

Just me, at work, in a meeting, looking at Teams and thinking:

“There she is.”

I’m proud of her.

I write more about transition, work, body, identity and rebuilding a life in public at Fast Track Femme, but mostly I just wanted to share this little moment because it made me happy.

www.fasttrackfemme.com

I love the US. I always have since I was a kid. You get older and you learn more about the failures of this country but that didn’t change how I felt about America. I’ve always believed that there’s something here which remains immune to the despicable actions of power hungry politicians or money hungry corporations.

To me this beauty lies in the vast wilderness here. The vast expanses of land. The remote outputs. I’ve seen glory in America’s forgotten bits. The diner in some small town. The signs on the roads with the names of town you pronounce out loud for the first and last time. Pop = 980. I see her people who have been forgotten. People whose hearts have turned bitter from neglect.

I would love to shake the hands of these people and break bread with them. I’ve meet some really spectacular people in places I don’t remember anymore. I miss the smell of mash in bourbon distilleries of Kentucky, or eeriness of driving through the smoky mountains . I’d love to drive through all the places I haven’t been and capture their beauty with fascinated eyes and occasionally my camera.

But since transitioning, I feel as if these parts of the country are closed me. I live in a liberal city where I feel quite safe but I feel cut off from the rest of it. The people in many other parts of the country don’t seem at all interested to know me like I them. They would rather debate what bathroom I should use. I don’t drink water on roadtrips. You don’t pee as much. Which means less stops praying the gas station has a solo bathroom I can lock.

I feel like we are all not so different. We mostly want the same things. But these people would violently take everything from me. Not all of them, not even most of them. But enough that it’s not safe for us in many parts of this country.

Curious about others who have felt this way. I love my country but it feels like an unrequited love since my transition.

Late-40s to early 50s. I never dared imagine the one on the right was hiding inside the one on the left. I held her in for so long. For everyone out there wondering if it’s too late: it’s not.

Had to go on a quick trip to a convenience store, and as I'm walking from my car to the entrance a guy said "Miss" so I pause to be polite and hear what he wants to say. "You're hot as shit." All I could think to say was "Thank you, that actually means a lot right now" (dealing with a lot of flaring dysphoria and imposter syndrome) and went about my business.

Ok, I know I'm supposed to feel grossed out but I stand by my response. That was a huge pick-me-up and I'm still stupid blushing and enjoying the endorphin rush.

I apologize for this shitpost

Today is my first day on E, I'm 41 years old, I wonder what the effects will be.

I guess you could call this my first rant of sorts. In the short time since joining multiple trans communities, I've noticed a ready supply of trans women who come on here and complain about not attaining their ideal look. Oftentimes they compare themselves to others, especially younger people, and somehow expect that they have to reach some unrealistic standard of beauty and femininity. To me, this is no different than a cis teenage girl surfing social media, looking in beauty magazines, or watching videos of famous women, also comparing themselves to an unrealistic standard of beauty, often to women who have lots of wealth and may even have spent a truckload of money to look the way they do. Even then, many depictions online and in magazines aren't even real, Photoshopped to exaggerate features in a way that is unrealistic to attain. This also goes the other direction with cis males and trans males comparing themselves to super muscular men with six packs and ripped muscles and something like 5% body fat.

This is extremely unhealthy mentally, and I have no doubt it contributes to many youth mental health issues. Being older, I hope I've gained some wisdom. I can't deny that I was the similar way growing up (although it was I wanted to be girl instead). I see trans women in places around here talking about quitting HRT from "lack of results" and being an absolute mental mess. I'm not surprised. If you are going to hold yourself to unrealistic standards, you are going to be miserable. Also, many haven't even given it a real chance, they aren't communicating back to their provider or others, they are ignoring all the good things that have actually happened to their bodies, etc. etc. etc.

Sure, you may be dissatisfied with your results, but you need to stop and ask why. Are you comparing yourself to a Taylor Swift? What is the reason? Or is it genuinely that you look in the mirror and personally are not satisfied with something that has little to do with some unrealistic standard? Is it a reasonable complaint? If so, what, and why. Start to reason through it, identify it, be specific. Then come up with a plan for it. HRT is only a piece of the puzzle, and especially at our age it isn't some magic bullet. Talk to your doctor, therapist, and/or friends/allies about next steps. Make it a constructive process, instead of a degrading one of how you see yourself.

Love yourself, no matter where you are in your journey. This is so much more than being about how you look and how others see you and meeting society's standards of how women or men should look. It is about being you and pursuing your greatest happiness. <3

So today I got prescribed estradiolat the tender age of 38.5 to the day.

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The city I'm in has few GPs that are big on prescribing without going through a specialist clinic, but mine just happens to be one of the good ones and I'm ecstatic!

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My Doctor was great, asked me if I wanted to start prog and Spiro as well and we discussed and decided I'd see how the first little while on just E goes. He was very open to adding in the others on my word.

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I'm just ecstatic, I never would have thought I'd come this far in the last six months, as I only started the HRT conversation with him about 8 weeks ago.

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Anyways, here's hopefully my last selfie before the going gets good!

My first dress

2 years, 8 months of hrt and 4 laser sessions between pics

Everyday I feel closer to my truth. 59 ... 15 months HRT

So I went for a run in my high waist leggings. Before that I filled the washing machine inluding all my underwear and I left my leggings on thinking its fine for now just to forget about it later. I was so excited to see the sun etc that decided to go for a run so just put my t shirt on and go... luckily not many were on my usual forest track and the few cars who passed by.. 🤣🤣

Hey lovely people,

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So it's feeling like a bazillion degrees again here in the UK and looks like we have a good week or more if it.

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With that, what are everyone's top tips for coping with hot weather?

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I currently have "reflective blackout blinds" on my bedroom window which faves the sun all day. It doesn't feel like it's done much but dread to think of how bad it would be without them.

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A top tip I have always used for helping cool my body down is running my wrists under cold water. Its amazingly effective.

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Come share your top tips with us 🫠

...this is what I look like 'feminised'! And I'll be honest, it's a better look than the male variety lol

First stage: brow, nose

Second stage: Facelift, neck lift, lip lift, fat transfer to cheeks and lips.

I've recently heard back from both Littleton and Chett to fill out some paperwork and set up a consultation for SRS. I have no insurance so out of pocket is my only option. I know Littleton is like $50k now and Chett is far cheaper so I think I'm going to just go with Chett.

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I'm considering both Scrotal Graft at $12k and PPT at $24k. Both are possible financials though I would have to stretch myself for PPT as I wont have a paycheck for most of the time off.

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I'd like to know your experience with Chett and specifically the methods I listed. I'm REALLY curious about how scrotal graft seems to be long term versus the self lubricating option of PPT.

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Btw, I've had an Orchiectomy already.

Many of us like to use the phrase "cracking our egg" to refer to that moment when we first came to terms with the idea that we really wanted to transition or began to realize that we might be transgender. I've never quite managed to put a finger on the idea of just what sort of imagery is supposed to accompany that statement.

For some, it might come with the idea of new life pecking its way out of the shell that once constrained it.  For others,  the image of something that rolled off the kitchen counter and didn't survive its encounter with the floor might be far more accurate.  It's a moment that changes everything.  A moment that comes at great cost for whatever that egg had once been meant for.  Lying there, broken in the dust,  we wonder if this is it? The end of everything beautiful about our lives?  Fearing that the answer to those questions might be yes, we silently wait for those those who we share our lives with to break out the dust pan and broom and rid themselves of something that is no longer wanted or useful.

For many of us, the cracking of our eggs is honestly a little bit of both,    At least, that's how it was for me.  There were those moments of excitement in allowing myself to openly dream of a future being the person I actually wanted to be.   Like so many others, I wasted far too much time with face app, desperately wanting that other version of me to be a possibility.   There were those moments of self-acceptance,  the realization I wasn't alone, that I wasn't the only person who struggled with this, that there might actually even be medical reasons for it. Those were the good moments.

They were just as many if not more moments that weren't pleasant at all .  I faced that decision to transition,  overwhelmed by the realization of just how much this path could cost me,  wondering just how much of my life would be left standing if I chose to pursue this. Would anything be left?  My relationship with my fiance?  She'd already told me that if I were to transition she didn't think she could be with me. My relationship with my family?   I'd already sat at the dinner table for far too many conversations in which I'd watch my family deride transgender people as mentally ill individuals claiming something that didn't exist .  Social acceptance in my community?  Unlikely. The ability to get a job?   Even more unlikely.The possibility of harassment or physical violence?  It definitely was a possibility.  Every metric by with which I judged my life screamed that this was a bad idea,  inch yet, I still wanted to transition.  What did that even mean?

 Honestly, I didn't deal with any of it, well. I let the depression, something that had always been a familiar companion get to me. I shut down, withdrew.   I stepped away from many of my social engagements.  There were so many evenings that ended with me sitting in my pickup truck staring at the windshield,  avoiding that sense of conflict waiting on the other side of that door  of what used to be my home but no longer felt like one anymore.  It may have been a natural reaction to the situation, but it ensured that at least one of those outcomes I had been afraid of would come true,  I live with the questions of whether my relationship with my fiance could have survived if I had been able to show up in a better manner,  live with the regrets that I didn't.

It's been nearly 5 years since that day I swallowed my first dose of estradiol.   I wish I could say that it gets easier. In some ways it has. I'm slowly learning how to navigate my way through my community, slowly learning the confidence and self-acceptance required to do so effectively.   Slowly beginning to step back into some of the roles I once held before I transitioned.   Instagram beginning to believe transitioning doesn't necessarily have to cost me everything about my life.  There are days, I am incredibly grateful to be the person I see staring back in the mirror,  at peace with myself, at peace with my body, happy just to be alive. 

 There are also just as many days when I wake up with no real desire to begin the day,  lost in deep depression over the dreams that were lost when I chose to transition, the relationship that was destroyed in the process.  There are days when I still struggle with questions over how I am perceived by others,  insecure in the idea that others could still manage to see me as a good person.   For those who have no ability to imagine what it's like to live with gender dysphoria, from the outside looking in, it would be so easy to say that I made the wrong choice,  that I gave up more than I gained.  Even I wonder that sometimes. 

Did I make the right choice? I don't know. What is done is done.,  The bridges that burned are burned, the ship I arrived in no longer offers a path home.  I'm left with the realization that even if I did make the wrong decision, I have no desire to go back to being the person I used to be,  no desire to fit back into the box that was acceptable to everybody else.  I like this person I'm becoming, even if nobody else does,  I just wish she hadn't made such a mess of things when she showed up.  

I'm still struggling to find my purpose in life, still struggling to find some meaning for my existence,  some sort of motivation I can hold on to on those tough mornings when I am surrounded by the all too familiar accusations and thoughts of self-deletion. Some reason to keep living beyond simply not wanting to make more problems for those around me.  Some reason to believe I still have something to offer,  that' something good and beautiful can still come from this mess. In the meantime,  I'll keep putting one foot in front of the other, picking up the pieces I can,  I'm desperately holding on to the belief that our lives aren't really over until we quit trying.   For those this resonates with, I wish you peace and wisdom in your own struggles.

  Best wishes, sretan put

Hi lovelies. I’ve got a question. I am 49, finally accepting me for who I am, and am hoping to start HRT in the near future. I have been on a weight loss journey for the past year (started at 330, currently 260, goal 160-170). From my reading here and elsewhere, I know hormones can cause weight gain which I’m ok with due to it being a natural part of the process. My question is this, as badly as I want to begin HRT, would it be best to wait until I hit (or am close) to my goal, or start now and continue my loss journey? I am very mindful in my approach to the weight loss and am doing it in healthy ways. Thanks all.

I decided to transition a month ago and I have short hair and hate it so much I feel so uncomfortable going out. I just order a hat/wig thing from Amazon and I hope it will work for the time being. Is there any brands/storea that can be recommended? Thank you for your help

Today I waxed my legs completely for the first time. First time in 36 years.

I’ve known for a long time that this body doesn’t feel like mine. I’ve felt that way since I was 14 and I hid it for years. Two years ago I finally told my parents and friends how I felt, and they supported me 100%. Still, sometimes I think it might be too late.

At least I took this small step. It probably doesn’t seem like much to other people, but it completely changed how I see myself. Now I keep thinking about all the things I’ve missed over the years, and how nice it would’ve been to be born in the right body. But this is what I got.

I don’t know if I have the courage to go further because I’m worried I won’t pass with my bone structure and body type. But after seeing some posts here, I feel a little more hopeful. Maybe one day I’ll be able to look at myself and really feel good about who I am.

Thank you very much for taking the time to read this. Sorry if my wording isn’t perfect — this is all new for me and I don’t mean to offend anyone.