lilith magazine
Hormones in Motion
August 3, 2022
Hormone, n. (Greek) “setting in motion.”
“It is known that the angels are deemed ‘those who are standing [still]’ as are souls before they arrive in this world… Only after the souls descend to this world and are enclothed in bodies are they known as ‘those who walk.” Ohr Hatorah Vol. II, Bamidbar, Beha’alotcha)
As I write these lines, I’m holed in a cozy trailer, escaping unseasonably cold and clammy L.A. weather while fighting the effects of a particular nasty period.
Naturally, I found myself picking up my faithful iPad Pro and expressing my thoughts on hormones while dangerously low on hormones. Ironic, sure—but also immensely helpful. How better to feel the effects of hormones than when in full-fledged withdrawal from them?
My mind like a ship in motion, I wonder how the hormone binary came to be, evolutionarily speaking. I’m not an evolutionary biologist, but it likely goes something like this: most of us have a base amount of estrogen and testosterone in our bodies. Some hominids who were able to produce more testosterone displayed a marked advantage in survival and procreation—after all, it’s easy to see how an advantage in both muscle mass and sex drive will translate into more babies. And so they slowly developed rudimentary testes which escalated exponentially these other sex differences, all to the benefit of survival.
Look Ma, I’m Trans!
April 7, 2022
Yes, I’m a trans woman, but am I trans enough? And am I woman enough?” Since I started my social transition at the height of the pandemic (like so many of my trans siblings!), I’ve been walking a thin rainbow line of existing as myself out in the open, on the street, in my professional life, while keeping a secure lock on my social media accounts, not making my transition “Instagram official” and even dressing in full male drag whenever I spend time with family.
I did all this to try and seize the last hours of quality time with my family, having a pretty clear idea of my pending fate. And though this may make a humorous anecdote after the fact, the feelings of dread were real enough at the time that I lost many a sleeping (and waking!) hour to my thoughts, trying to conceive of a possible course forward in which I might maintain some ties—some contact, however, tenuous—with my loved ones.
So on my increasingly sparse family visits I’d wear my most masculine jeans and t-shirts with a heavy flannel button down on top for extra coverage, hide my long curls under a beanie or fedora, and wear my combat boots and even camo jacket for added effect. It worked. For the most part. There was the occasional spare remark like, your voice sounds different (no shit!), or your eyes have changed (huh?), but the mask kept for a while…Why cross that gender bridge before I get there?