Inside out
HOW TRANSITIONING FROM FEMALE TO MALE IS JUST AS INTERNAL AS EXTERNAL
By Connor Vallee
(Marc Olivier Jodoin / Unsplash)
I was born a female on May 15th 1993, and I sit here today a man who has fought more thoughts than people. Although the physical changes of a transition are not to be overlooked, the mental health component is almost overpowering.
The darkness I went through was pitch black, no light at the end as far as I could tell. When you have no clue who you are, it’s hard to see. It is hard to want to push forward.
The discovery came unexpectedly, as big discoveries often do.
Sitting in my LGBTQ club, a question was asked: How would you feel if you woke up in the body of the opposite sex?… I would love it.
Oh my gosh, wait, am I a guy? I am a guy. Holy shit this makes sense. What next? How does this work? What does this mean? Holy shit. Holy shit. My mind was spinning.
Transgender. It felt weird yet totally normal on my lips. So this is why I liked wearing men’s clothes. This is why I never wanted to wear bras or bikinis or dresses, or get my nails done or hair highlighted. It wasn’t preference, it was me. How do I tell my parents? My little sister? Maybe I don’t. Not yet.
So, I tell my girlfriend, my name is Connor. I tell my friends; my name is Connor. At school, I am Connor. At home, I am Andréa. I like it much better at school.
I am two different people. I don’t want to be. I want to be me, not someone else. This is crazy. The weight is too much.
I sat with a knife to my wrist, screaming against the world pushing me into a female box I didn’t belong in. I watched blood bead on my wrist but realized I needed to live. I needed to make it through this because who else would be able to bring me to who I truly am but myself? How? How could I possibly do that though? It is almost impossible to ask for help, isn’t it? Just end it. It won’t get better. Stop. Stop…put the knife down. I can’t.
Red and blue lights bring me to the hospital. They took my knife. Will I get that back? Mom and dad get there. Why didn’t you tell us? You know we love you.
What they don’t know is how scary it is — no matter how much love you receive—to tell your family you aren’t who they think you are. Not really.
I tried making the small changes I could control. I gave myself space. I cut my hair. I bound my chest. But it wasn’t enough….so, I grabbed a new knife. Stop, it will get better. Wait, that’s not my voice. Help came anyway. I was one of the lucky ones. Give me that knife.
They take your shoelaces and they take the string in your sweatpants. But these are my favorite sweatpants. Ugh, fine, take them.
We are going to change your meds to this. Give it a few days.
Can I leave yet? I feel better.
Not yet. Here, do some art. Here you can have a pen now and a notebook.
Solace, calm in writing. What a saving grace that was. Not to mention the others around me, fighting their own battles. Plus, the antidepressants were working. I knew it then, when the darkness started to recede, that I needed to take the next step. I hate needles, but I think I will love this one.
Getting my first shot was like a burst of sunshine in my rainy mind. I could hardly contain the happiness. The euphoria just scratching the surface of the dysphoria. Goodbye monthly cramps, hello cracking voice.
There is no foreseeable “end” to this kind of journey. People say oh, well you transitioned, you look like a man. My mind isn’t done… it may never be done. Not only am I fighting society’s standards for men, but I am still trying to forget the ones I was raised on.
Here’s the thing. People watch a trans person thinking the only thing that changes is your body. But your whole world changes. How you look at yourself. How others look at you. Your beliefs. I will say I am certainly stronger. No doubt about it. I know that if I can make it through that, I can do anything. Now, I am Connor Christopher Vallee and, each day, I am happier for fighting for who I truly am.
This piece was written and shared during the IDONTMIND Writing Workshop. Learn more about our free, nine-week course and be the first to know about the next workshop here. Visit Mental Health Connecticut’s YouTube channel for a video version of Connor’s story.
Connor Vallee is passionate about anything arts related, especially writing. He is currently pursuing his graduate degree in clinical mental health counseling.
