This afternoon I got a phone call, causing me to almost leap up from my chair as I tried to take the call. Shaken, with both my hands and voice trembling, it turned out to be not my surgeon calling me, but instead one of my lawyers. A new date has been set for a hearing in the legal case against me for an incident which occurred over two and a half years ago . That incident in me getting beaten up by the police from which I still suffer permanent nerve damage in my hands as well as in my right knee. I now have a different lawyer for this, as the previous one was incompetent enough to only focus on settling without even bothering to read up on the case.
I really couldn't believe how shaken I felt even before taking that call. It really makes it clear how agonizing the wait is for me while I await the surgeon's judgement on how to proceed and whether there will be a surgery at all. I have had a lot of time to reflect on why this surgery is so important to me, and what it would mean to me if it turned out that I really do not have anything resembling a properly developed vagina.
The fact of the matter is that if that turned out to be true, I'd be quite literally physically asexual. Taking stock of which reproductive organs and/or genitals I do not have in that case we can count the following: womb, ovaries, testicles, prostate, vagina. Add 'penis' to that list as well, as what I do have in that area would not make a man happy in terms of functionality. So I'd be genital-less. The past years I gradually went from the realization that I am infertile, to still having genitals to realizing that I'm now on the verge of two possible branches: having a moderately functional penis and at least a moderately functional vagina, or having only the former.
I know that the former would make me really quite happy and would make me feel... normal in a way I can not fully explain. The latter would push me towards an uncomfortable realization: that I have been destined to be asexual. Looking back at how much I disliked my developing sexuality during puberty, my attempts to extinguish it, then followed by sexual experiences driven only by a sense to 'fit in'. I can not honestly claim that sexuality has ever been a part of me, nor has it ever developed into something I could regard as anything but an overrated source of mostly pain, inconvenience and suffering.
Maybe I have always been asexual, if only to some extent. Possibly due to the body I have and the subconscious realization that something was 'off'. I don't know. It is possible. The most uncomfortable realization I'd have to face if the lack of genitals turns out to be true is that in the end both the Dutch and German physicians turned out to have it wrong. It'd also mean that my body is quite an interesting form of intersex, with an almost complete lack of any development of any genitals and reproductive organs whatsoever. Me being assigned a female identity depended on the German surgeon being right. This would then not be right any more either. It all unravels.
What identity do I have? What identity does an asexual being with no discernible genitals have? How would it live in a society which is based around sexuality in all forms possible? I don't know.
This is all quite too much to take in all at once. These two diverging paths ahead of me make me feel split myself, as though I am living in two realities at the same time like some kind of quantum super position. Something needs to collapse this wave function or I'll probably go nuts. Which side is it going to be? Which door will you take, my dear contestant? What outcome will the roll of the dice bring us? Did mom make vanilla or chocolate pudding for dessert?
I'll gladly take the future with the least uncertainty and the most calm and peace. That is, if you don't mind.