While I’m thinking about hormones, I’m trying to take a step back and examine myself in the mirror. What do I see? What do I want to see? Maybe that will give me a clearer sense of just who I am. Or maybe not.

The mirror has usually just been a tool to me: it’s a thing for getting your hair to cooperate or, more recently for me, getting my makeup right. Now I have to look past that bit of glass and see whom I see there.

It’s me, but it’s also not.

This goes beyond which side my hair falls on in reality compared to mirror me. This is what gender I see there.

I look now and I see broad shoulders and a touch more weight than I’d like. I see tall, tall enough to lose the top part of my head from that mirror with my tallest heels on. If I look closely, I can see where hair grows and I don’t want it to.

A lot of the rest of what I see is future tense. I’ll eventually find the style I want my hair to be. That extra bit of weight might go away. That dress or blouse might fit right.

It’s right there that I pause.

Because when I think about it, I don’t see a male in the mirror. I see something more like a proto-female, what I might be or could become.

Am I completely female? I don’t think so, though I don’t know. I’m certainly not male. But even genderqueer/non-binary people do hormone replacement to fit in better with who they are, what they see.

That person I see in the mirror would like that. To at least be closer on the outside to what’s on the inside.

Advertisements