After my surgery in Germany back in October 2011 the medical madness I had been caught in since early 2005 finally came to a halt. The answers to my questions had been found and for a while I could move forward again. I'd never have to deal with such fundamental questions about who and what I am ever again. Yet a small detail remained like a remnant after you pull out a splinter, only to fester and become impossible to ignore.
Today I went out to buy a new swimsuit. Just a regular one-piece Speedo one for competitive swimming since I love pushing myself to the limits of my skills in sports. Years ago I already determined that I can wear a swimsuit without anyone noticing anything about me which would point towards me not being a regular female. This all doesn't bother me too much. Heck, men follow me with their eyes when I'm at the pool because I qualify as attractive for a female. I have nothing which should even begin to bother me there.
And yet there is still that little something. When a photo is taken of me while wearing a swimsuit such as today I often feel horrified while looking at the resulting photograph. Is that really me? It seems like I'm a guy wearing a swimsuit... or not? I'm not sure... Maybe... I can look at myself in the mirror like that and feel pretty okay, but on a photo like that, something just doesn't match up yet. And I know it has to be inside my head.
There, I said it. While I'd hardly say I'm crazy, I'm still left with something which is nagging at me. Festering as I said before. It's what's keeping me from truly seeing things the way they are and finally fully accept my body for what it is. Right now I still feel very much torn between something which one could describe as 'male' and 'female', but which is also different from those two stereotypical things. It makes me feel in constant emotional pain.
With the 2011 surgery most things were resolved, true. Yet one thing was left unresolved, namely that of my female side. It was determined now well over a year ago that I have indeed a vagina. The reports from three different German hospitals seem to indicate that it's also quite functional, and my own findings do indeed agree with this. Yet after the surgery nothing was done with it.
I did want to have it too resolved, and part of me hoped that someone would come forward now to take care of this little matter now that the battle was over and I had been acknowledged. Yet no such thing happened. My own attempts to find a surgeon who would look at this failed one by one. Painfully enough I'd get rejected by most using the excuse that they don't do sex-reassignment surgeries, even though what I asked for isn't even in the same league.
Now, the surgeon I mentioned before which a friend had contacted and found to be willing to help me. I did mention that I would contact him and see what would result from it. Today I finally worked up the courage and re-opened the medical circus of madness for hopefully the last time by sending an email to the surgeon's assistant. My request was to send the relevant medical files to them by email, which was granted. Again I felt strangely happy at how the response email phrased that the surgeon would do his utmost to find a way to help me using his abilities.
So there you go. I did it. Hopefully this won't all just end up in another disappointment, and this will truly mean the end of all and everything medical I'll ever have to endure in my life for a very long time. One more surgery to restore what is now hidden to how it should be, thereby resolving these emotional and psychological knots inside of me. I can not possibly imagine what this means to me. I think that only people who have gone through something similar can understand how much it means to feel whole.
Maya
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