search.noResults

search.searching

dataCollection.invalidEmail
note.createNoteMessage

search.noResults

search.searching

orderForm.title

orderForm.productCode
orderForm.description
orderForm.quantity
orderForm.itemPrice
orderForm.price
orderForm.totalPrice
orderForm.deliveryDetails.billingAddress
orderForm.deliveryDetails.deliveryAddress
orderForm.noItems
he feels he has a “second chance”: time to become a man. “Each year, I felt increasingly more


uncomfortable with my body and the perception of me. I didn’t even feel like I was a woman yet; even when I was twenty- one, I didn’t feel like I was a woman yet. I always felt … I think because I was in such denial, let’s say, I never let myself get to that, even though society might accept me as a young lady. I wasn’t young and I think that really paid off for me. It felt like a second chance. Ok, fine, I looked like a girl as opposed to a woman because at least I thought I’m biding my time, I’ve got some time left to become a man …” Both narrators recognise the


‘languaged’ state of being viewed as a woman as key in their transition process. It is not when they go through puberty; it is, rather, when both they, and society, begin to view them as moving from girl to woman that the notion of change becomes most powerful and urgent.


Seeking help Despite growing numbers of people


seeking treatment for gender dysphoria, it appears there are very real difficulties in accessing treatment and receiving help. In being ‘fobbed off ’ and being left waiting, I wondered if this somehow creates the idea that telling a ‘better’ gender-dysphoric story would have given them a faster, better, service? If the aim of diagnosis and treatment were to alleviate distress, the stories told in these interviews would suggest the contrary. Below, ‘Frank’ narrates a visit to his GP: “I went to my GP. I was sweating I was


so nervous. I said ‘I need some hormones’ and she goes ‘What’s wrong with your hormones?’ I said ‘They’re the wrong sort’. She was like ‘What do you mean?’ I said ‘I want some male hormones’. She was like ‘Oh, OK’. She referred me to the mental health clinic and I said to them ‘I want to transition’. They said, ‘We’re not gonna do anything about it now because you have OCD so we’re not gonna act upon your gender thing’. They said I had to get my life sorted better. I had to come back in another four months. They didn’t say anything about how to treat my OCD. They were just saying, ‘You might not know what you want ‘cos you’ve got OCD’. I couldn’t really say anything to them; I was just like… I was really annoyed because I was desperate.


Context 155, February 2018


They basically didn’t want to treat me. It probably made my OCD worse. They let me go and did not do anything about it. I was getting more depressed. They said to come back but they assessed me again and didn’t really do much. I phoned a private psychiatrist in London.” If gender isn’t talked about, will it


go away, will he go away? His need to transition is silenced. I wondered about the impact on the narrator of not being taken seriously and how this aff ected his mental health. T e sense of him being leſt in limbo, waiting, dominates. T e narrative is fi nally punctuated by his choice to access treatment outside of the NHS. In terms of coming out as trans to


their families, family members may need to make adjustments to change. Transition can involve a physical change through hormone treatment and/or surgery and a name change to fit with their gender identity; they are, in some ways, perceived no longer to be who they once were in the family system. The narratives spoken in this study suggest that practitioners need to be aware of the different stages and contradictions each family member may feel towards changes in gender identity and expression. Balancing these different transitional stages and valuing each member’s position calls for increased therapist awareness. T e narrator, ‘Luke’, below tells a story


of contrast whereby he feels ‘joyous’ and change is compared to ‘Christmas time’ whilst his mother is seen as ‘grieving’ and in ‘trauma’. Changing his body is only positive for him, whereas he sees his mother as having lost the person she knew. “I actually do believe that he does see me


as male whereas I don’t know if my mum … She really had a grieving process and I think it was so hard for her to feel happy, when I was like, ‘Oh, now my hips are gone and I’ve got a male chest and blah, blah, blah’, all of that. Every time, I can’t help but think it must’ve just been a trauma about every single thing, like a knife through the heart whereas for me it was joyous, it was amazing. It was like Christmas time, every single one of those things. For her, it’s just like you’re gone now”.


Coming out Employing Gee’s (1991) poetic model


of narrative analysis, ‘Jay’ comes out to his family below:


“And so, one day/ I came home from


college/ and I just (laughs) I was a bit over dramatic/ I told everyone to come in to the room/ ‘I wanna tell you something’/ I went into the lounge/ and turned the TV off/


I was like/ I want you to refer to me as/


it took me ages to say it/ as I was really nervous/ (affect) but I just said/ ‘I want you to refer to me as a guy/ and that’s what I’m gonna be from now on/ because I’m gonna change my sex’/ And literally/ it was just silence./ They


were sitting there/ and I was just standing there/ like waiting/ for them to say something.” I felt like an audience member hearing


this story retold; its power remained in its retelling. The narrator ‘sets the scene’ by allowing the listener or reader to imagine the space. Turning the television off becomes an opportunity for his voice to be heard, to be broadcast. The narrator makes a series of statements of intent: he wants to be referred to as a guy; that’s what he’s “gonna” be from now on; and he’s “gonna” change his sex. His voice was direct and his tone was performance-like. I wondered if the theatricality was added to by the positioning of the narrator (as a replacement for the television) in front of his family members (the audience). As the story unfolded, I was struck by the directness of the teller and the resulting shock and silence of the family members. They sound frozen; as if everything has stopped. The narrator is silenced then, too, waiting for the audience to respond. As the listener and reader, I also felt suspended, waiting for the next ‘verse’ wishing he would get a positive response. Although brief, I hope I have given


a glimpse into the complex journey of gender transition and, most importantly, an accurate and respectful retelling of the participants’ stories. I continue to learn how best to work together with these young adults and argue for further specific training for all professionals on gender identity issues and treatment processes to ensure trans young people are the narrators of their own stories.


Extracted from a dissertation


submitted as partial fulfilment for the degree of MSc in Family and Systemic Psychotherapy, Birkbeck College, University of London, in collaboration with the Institute of Family Therapy.


7


In his own words: A narrative analysis of the stories of trans men in gender transition


Page 1  |  Page 2  |  Page 3  |  Page 4  |  Page 5  |  Page 6  |  Page 7  |  Page 8  |  Page 9  |  Page 10  |  Page 11  |  Page 12  |  Page 13  |  Page 14  |  Page 15  |  Page 16  |  Page 17  |  Page 18  |  Page 19  |  Page 20  |  Page 21  |  Page 22  |  Page 23  |  Page 24  |  Page 25  |  Page 26  |  Page 27  |  Page 28  |  Page 29  |  Page 30  |  Page 31  |  Page 32  |  Page 33  |  Page 34  |  Page 35  |  Page 36  |  Page 37  |  Page 38  |  Page 39  |  Page 40  |  Page 41  |  Page 42  |  Page 43  |  Page 44  |  Page 45  |  Page 46  |  Page 47  |  Page 48  |  Page 49  |  Page 50  |  Page 51  |  Page 52  |  Page 53  |  Page 54  |  Page 55  |  Page 56  |  Page 57  |  Page 58  |  Page 59  |  Page 60  |  Page 61  |  Page 62  |  Page 63  |  Page 64