Look What They've Done To My Brain, Ma
So, the other day I came across some new research that I’m still thinking about... I’d say “wrestling with,” except that it’s not really that active a disturbance. It would have been, though, if I’d seen it before making my decision to transition... so maybe it’s best that I didn’t!
You see, one aspect of gender transition that doesn’t get discussed very much (in part because we still don’t know very much about it) is that, just as puberty causes changes not only in the body, but also in the brain, so the “second puberty” of transition-related hormone therapy can do the same.
It’s a weird thought... especially when you’re the one choosing to undergo the process. Kind of like one of those creepy old mad scientist movies in which the insane innovator, lacking another subject, decides to test the experimental serum on himself. Should I be wondering what I might turn into? Scary!
Of course, it’s not really that scary, or I’d be doing more than just writing about it. And of course I knew that changes could happen in the brain - in a vague, general sense. I didn’t worry too much about it because there simply wasn’t much information out there on this topic; worry was pointless.
I do remember, long ago (before I was even remotely considering transitioning myself), coming across one reference to changes in brain volume in transsexual adults, which increases or decreases in response to (respectively) testosterone and estrogen, toward (respectively) the male or female norm. And the 2011 study that I mentioned in an earlier post noted that, while the brains of transmen like me already exhibit certain clearly male patterns of myelinization (a neuronal sheathing that affects how the cells communicate with each other) before testosterone, those patterns become even more strongly “male normal” after testosterone... however, it isn’t known for sure what those particular areas of the brain actually do, so there was no further track to pursue on that one.
Here’s the latest piece, though: a new study just released this past August has confirmed that testosterone therapy in female-to-male transsexuals results in changes to several specific areas of the brain that govern verbal and spatial abilities. And yes, those results fit what you might expect - reduction in the verbal areas, expansion in the spatial.
I have to confess that this strikes at a somewhat cherished aspect of my self-image. In school my standardized test scores always came out at 99th percentile - the highest possible rating - for verbal ability. And a few years ago I nearly broke the GRE verbal section, coming in at 780 out of a possible 800 even though I was sick as a dog on test day.
I’m not exactly sure what to do with the information that I’ve let myself in for a potential reduction in verbal facility. I say “potential” because, in any scientific test, results are averaged among the entire test group; there’s no certainty that every individual subject experienced the same result, or to the same degree. (Or maybe that’s just hopeful thinking on my part!)
Still, this has thrown me for a bit of a loop. It doesn’t help that this new knowledge coincided almost perfectly with my last increase in T dosage. Since discovering that study a few days ago... well, now every time I find myself reaching for a word, I think, Am I just tired/preoccupied/insanely busy (all of which are true right now), or is it some more sinister conspiracy beginning among my brain cells? Will this become constant? Will it get worse? Arrrgh!
This is probably silly. I sincerely doubt that I’m in for any huge, sudden change - especially not with this extremely gradual approach to hormone therapy, in which it’s taken me nearly a year to reach a half-normal dose. And, frankly, at 99th percentile, I can probably stand to take the hit without even noticing it! But it’s human nature to worry over silly things, and I’m feeling pretty damn human right now.
Had I come across this information prior to making my decision to transition - or perhaps even after that, but before actually starting on T - it would have given me serious pause. Do I really need to do this? Is it worth the loss, the risk? Couldn’t I just keep trying harder to be happy the way I am?
I’m glad that didn’t happen, because it would have made it more difficult, perhaps even much more difficult, to make what I now know was the right decision. In fact, it might have locked me firmly into the wrong decision - trying again and again to make an untenable premise work, refusing to open the door and move on because my pride would not allow me to let go of what I already held.
I’m reminded of a bit of dialogue from Peter Beagle’s masterpiece, The Last Unicorn, in which Schmendrick the Magician convinces sour old King Haggard to hire him in place of the King’s own highly talented court sorcerer, Mabruk. When Haggard snidely asks why he should replace a master magician with an untried young fool, Schmendrick answers calmly, “Because he does not, this marvelous Mabruk, make you happy.”
Test scores are a parlour trick. The real question is how well I can use what talents I have, to give value and joy to both the world and myself. If I can’t do that, then whatever I have is pointless... and if I can do that, then whatever I have is enough.
I’ve spent half a lifetime in fruitless pursuit of my place in the world - fruitless because I didn’t know myself well enough (or trust enough in what self-knowledge I did have) to find the spaces where I fit, trying instead to forcibly pound myself into place like the proverbial square peg in the round hole. I don’t know yet where I fit... but I think I’m a damn sight more likely to get there now. Why? Because I’m learning, at long last, to trust myself.
The decision to transition felt right to me - and it still does, regardless of the risks. I have felt far more peace and happiness, and been more effective in the work I choose to pour my heart and mind into, during this past year than at any previous time in my life. I have found ways of relating to my world that finally make sense, and stopped trying to gauge every thought and feeling by someone else’s standards. I have been reclaiming ownership of my body, and my soul along with it.
As for my verbal skills... well, “skills” is the operative word here, I think. Because I may have been born with a talent, but I’ve also honed it over many years of use. I doubt that whatever changes I’m in for can simply erase all of that.
Of course, this could just be my mind refusing to accept that it can be changed in so fundamental a way. I’m unable to imagine myself as substantially different than I am - just as my teenage self could never have imagined this adult self with any degree of real ownership.
The fact is, I’m in unknown territory, taking yet another leap of faith.
In other words - welcome to life. Heh.
But for whatever it’s worth... here's what I'm telling myself:
Facility does not equal ability; the former is about ease of practice, the latter about results. Good writing and good speaking - and for that matter, good thinking - come from a dedication of mind and heart to seeking and exposing hidden significant connections, those unsuspected angles of understanding that shed new light on our world and our relationship to it.
And that I shall continue to do, come hell or high water.
You see, one aspect of gender transition that doesn’t get discussed very much (in part because we still don’t know very much about it) is that, just as puberty causes changes not only in the body, but also in the brain, so the “second puberty” of transition-related hormone therapy can do the same.
It’s a weird thought... especially when you’re the one choosing to undergo the process. Kind of like one of those creepy old mad scientist movies in which the insane innovator, lacking another subject, decides to test the experimental serum on himself. Should I be wondering what I might turn into? Scary!
Of course, it’s not really that scary, or I’d be doing more than just writing about it. And of course I knew that changes could happen in the brain - in a vague, general sense. I didn’t worry too much about it because there simply wasn’t much information out there on this topic; worry was pointless.
I do remember, long ago (before I was even remotely considering transitioning myself), coming across one reference to changes in brain volume in transsexual adults, which increases or decreases in response to (respectively) testosterone and estrogen, toward (respectively) the male or female norm. And the 2011 study that I mentioned in an earlier post noted that, while the brains of transmen like me already exhibit certain clearly male patterns of myelinization (a neuronal sheathing that affects how the cells communicate with each other) before testosterone, those patterns become even more strongly “male normal” after testosterone... however, it isn’t known for sure what those particular areas of the brain actually do, so there was no further track to pursue on that one.
Here’s the latest piece, though: a new study just released this past August has confirmed that testosterone therapy in female-to-male transsexuals results in changes to several specific areas of the brain that govern verbal and spatial abilities. And yes, those results fit what you might expect - reduction in the verbal areas, expansion in the spatial.
I have to confess that this strikes at a somewhat cherished aspect of my self-image. In school my standardized test scores always came out at 99th percentile - the highest possible rating - for verbal ability. And a few years ago I nearly broke the GRE verbal section, coming in at 780 out of a possible 800 even though I was sick as a dog on test day.
I’m not exactly sure what to do with the information that I’ve let myself in for a potential reduction in verbal facility. I say “potential” because, in any scientific test, results are averaged among the entire test group; there’s no certainty that every individual subject experienced the same result, or to the same degree. (Or maybe that’s just hopeful thinking on my part!)
Still, this has thrown me for a bit of a loop. It doesn’t help that this new knowledge coincided almost perfectly with my last increase in T dosage. Since discovering that study a few days ago... well, now every time I find myself reaching for a word, I think, Am I just tired/preoccupied/insanely busy (all of which are true right now), or is it some more sinister conspiracy beginning among my brain cells? Will this become constant? Will it get worse? Arrrgh!
This is probably silly. I sincerely doubt that I’m in for any huge, sudden change - especially not with this extremely gradual approach to hormone therapy, in which it’s taken me nearly a year to reach a half-normal dose. And, frankly, at 99th percentile, I can probably stand to take the hit without even noticing it! But it’s human nature to worry over silly things, and I’m feeling pretty damn human right now.
Had I come across this information prior to making my decision to transition - or perhaps even after that, but before actually starting on T - it would have given me serious pause. Do I really need to do this? Is it worth the loss, the risk? Couldn’t I just keep trying harder to be happy the way I am?
I’m glad that didn’t happen, because it would have made it more difficult, perhaps even much more difficult, to make what I now know was the right decision. In fact, it might have locked me firmly into the wrong decision - trying again and again to make an untenable premise work, refusing to open the door and move on because my pride would not allow me to let go of what I already held.
I’m reminded of a bit of dialogue from Peter Beagle’s masterpiece, The Last Unicorn, in which Schmendrick the Magician convinces sour old King Haggard to hire him in place of the King’s own highly talented court sorcerer, Mabruk. When Haggard snidely asks why he should replace a master magician with an untried young fool, Schmendrick answers calmly, “Because he does not, this marvelous Mabruk, make you happy.”
Test scores are a parlour trick. The real question is how well I can use what talents I have, to give value and joy to both the world and myself. If I can’t do that, then whatever I have is pointless... and if I can do that, then whatever I have is enough.
I’ve spent half a lifetime in fruitless pursuit of my place in the world - fruitless because I didn’t know myself well enough (or trust enough in what self-knowledge I did have) to find the spaces where I fit, trying instead to forcibly pound myself into place like the proverbial square peg in the round hole. I don’t know yet where I fit... but I think I’m a damn sight more likely to get there now. Why? Because I’m learning, at long last, to trust myself.
The decision to transition felt right to me - and it still does, regardless of the risks. I have felt far more peace and happiness, and been more effective in the work I choose to pour my heart and mind into, during this past year than at any previous time in my life. I have found ways of relating to my world that finally make sense, and stopped trying to gauge every thought and feeling by someone else’s standards. I have been reclaiming ownership of my body, and my soul along with it.
As for my verbal skills... well, “skills” is the operative word here, I think. Because I may have been born with a talent, but I’ve also honed it over many years of use. I doubt that whatever changes I’m in for can simply erase all of that.
Of course, this could just be my mind refusing to accept that it can be changed in so fundamental a way. I’m unable to imagine myself as substantially different than I am - just as my teenage self could never have imagined this adult self with any degree of real ownership.
The fact is, I’m in unknown territory, taking yet another leap of faith.
In other words - welcome to life. Heh.
But for whatever it’s worth... here's what I'm telling myself:
Facility does not equal ability; the former is about ease of practice, the latter about results. Good writing and good speaking - and for that matter, good thinking - come from a dedication of mind and heart to seeking and exposing hidden significant connections, those unsuspected angles of understanding that shed new light on our world and our relationship to it.
And that I shall continue to do, come hell or high water.
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