observing (contemplating a life on estrogen)

a spoken word poem

by Gynger St Clare

i could sit on this porch for 20 years,
making notes and observing
how
life on estrogen
differs from
life on testosterone

what i know is
only one of those differences
is boobs

more changes go deeper
the remodeling of my endocrine system
the way messages about my environment are delivered to my organs
the regulation of my emotions
the shifting rhythms of my body’s energy

🩷 🩷 🩷 🩷

this has been a hard week:

i read a decision from a judge,
the words of a woman—
mother of a homebound neurodivergent adult and
architect of my neurodivergent son’s immediate future—

labelling my years
of requests for asl for my son who cannot speak
and playing nice in the system they designed
as a pattern of obstruction of own my son’s access to asl,
necessitating the just outcome
of continuing
to deny
my son
asl
.
.
.
.
illogic’s blade
cut deep and hurt
in a way i’ve never felt
hurt before
but
.
.
.
estrogen gave me
space to observe
and repair
and in just a few days,
i could assess the words
for what they were:
lies

experiences teaches me
the hurt from a lie
is the lie
i tell myself

so i’ve put that pain down
and am again charting
and walking
my path;

testosterone
would have told me
the decision was a threat
and handed me a spear
i would have plunged
my hate and my hurt
into expression
and behavior

taking
weeks
or months
to return
to my
calm
path

🩷 🩷 🩷

i’m physically exhausted

the daily pulse of energy
on testosterone
a distant memory
…a dried up ox-bow lake…

i can go to bed at 9 pm
sleep ‘til 8—or even 11
eat high carb or high protein
drown myself in coffee

nothing changes

by 3 pm,
the call has come:
my body demands daily shabbat

no threat to womens’ sports
not from me, at least

i’d be just too tired to train or compete

🩷 🩷

something else is happening—something i don’t

quite

have words to describe:

physically,
my hypothalamus, rewired
to translate the world outside
using estrogen inside

metaphorically,
“they” are installing
a new sensory regulator
a new emotional distributor
and mood lighting

philosophically,
i’m beginning to glimpse
how life
will feel
when I do not spend it

grinding
.
.
.
through
.
.
.
the
.
.
.
friction
.
.
.
of
.
being
.
.
man

🩷

6 decades into life
i can finally sense what’s possible
in life
and while there is

hope in that future
to fill a mustard seed

that same hope
drips like poison from cruelty’s blade
as our government
plunges it into trans-youth and adults,
cutting off what we need
to thrive
hormones
therapy
surgery
dignity
love

this must change
but how?
but how!!

but how

but
.
.
.
how

shhhhhh

inhale

exhale , 2, 3, 4

i could sit on this porch for 20 years,
making notes and observing
how
life on estrogen
differs from
life on testosterone.