(/kəˈlaɪdəskoʊp/; beautiful form to look at)

People transition throughout their lives – some more than others, some more physically than mentally, and some transition from what was assigned at birth to match their true identity in body and mind.

Meet Seth, formerly Sarah, regenerated in his true beautiful form. This is part one of a series exploring Seth’s experience with his transition.

Seth was born in Belgium and grew up with a mother whom Seth credits for having always allowed him to be himself. Not forced into little girls’ dresses or pushed to only play with dolls and tea sets. Instead, he says: “as long as I liked it, my parents were happy with me playing with anything, not trying to make me fit in a box.” And so, Seth grew up climbing trees, playing with whatever toys he wished to play with, keeping his hair short and even rough-housing with other little boys. But Seth was then still Sarah, and not a little boy.

Seth remembers how “there are lots and lots of pictures of me when I was little where you don’t really know if it is a boy or a girl in that picture; having short hair, I didn’t wear dresses, and at that age, unless you do have long hair or wear dresses you can’t really know anyway.” But when asking if he ever verbalised feelings of not belonging to his assigned body, he says, “it was never really a topic of conversation, I don’t remember ever having told my parents ‘I’m a boy’ and they don’t remember either, but I just remember this general sense of not fitting in my own skin. Before puberty I was more androgynous, and I was more comfortable being that way. Being called ‘him’ in shops was something I naturally geared for and I remember liking it.” But once puberty hit, Seth admits things changed quickly, as things “started to grow, uggggh, that I really did not want there”, and he became more conscious of being uncomfortable in his own skin. This led to Seth getting bullied, getting into fights, running away, and overall acting out. Now Seth can admit; “growing up I was a little shit; in my head I was a freak; I did not make it easy for my mum”. But Seth recognizes now how “I always knew I wasn’t in the right body; that things didn’t exactly match. But on some level, I knew who I was – but I did not know it was a thing, even as a teen, to be transgender, that a girl could actually become a boy,” Seth recalls. He remembers having seen a trans woman during his time in high school. “We were so mean about it; when we talked about her, she was a drag queen not a trans-woman, just a man dressing up as a woman.” But even though this put the concept of man-as-woman into the periphery of understanding for Seth, there was still no concept of a woman being able to become a man. “For me it still did not click that a trans-man was a thing or that I could do something about it.” This led Seth to consider there never would be a way for him to make a real biological, or even a full psychological, transition from assigned to true gender.

At the same time besides his gender quandaries, Seth was still searching for his sexuality. Seth remembers, as a young person not yet sure if he liked girls or boys or both or neither and no one, the advice given by his father. How when choosing a partner, it didn’t matter if “green or blue, girl or boy, as long as they’re clean.” Something Seth remembers as a terrible yet laughable example of his parents doing one thing right, and that was allowing him to make up his own mind. Yet the conversation of potentially not having an inclination, not having a sexual or romantic preference to one gender over another and instead preferring none, was never a topic that he came across with or was introduced to as an option. And social media, blog and community platforms did provide an option for variety of boxes and understand how “huh, that’s a thing, and how there were a variety of options that were not just boy-girl, girl-girl, boy-boy”, Seth recalls, “and then by pure chance, while I was trolling the internet, I came across the catalyst that started my journey. Through Tumblr, I ended up on a blog of a transgender guy, a Swedish FTM who was openly sharing his journey. I was like ‘F***, that’s it, that’s me. And it floored me.’ It was in 2012 and Seth was 26 years old and living in London. “It was so weird to have a word for it, and to have so many options now – I have a choice, and there’s others like me”, he continues. Seth immediately began extensive research into transitioning all the while fully preparing himself for potential abuse and neglect – physical as well as mental. But it was not a reason for him to stop; “I did not want to lie to myself anymore because of a fear of others. My family was supportive. Shocked, but supportive.” After the lightbulb moment, Seth binged on research. Lots and lots of research. And another Tumblr blog led him to find information about the NHS and transitioning in the UK.

“First things first, I went to my GP,” Seth explains, “and told her I might be transgender – where do we go from here?” Seth felt comfortable to speaking with her as she was young, not long after having finished medical studies, and “she was really nice and accepting, and I didn’t feel uncomfortable talking about anything with her. She printed some stuff and pointed me to websites and such. Which was all important because to actually get to be referred to a Gender Clinic, you need to be recognized by a psychiatrist who then assesses you and your situation. It was done in one session, they talked to me about how I feel about my gender and transitioning. After which they wrote a report stating ‘yes, I would recommend this person to be referred to the Gender Clinic.’” After being referred to the clinic, the waiting began, as there are only a few specialized Gender Clinics in the UK. The waiting to be seen at the Gender Clinic could mean one+ years, and worst of all, until you’ve actually been seen by the Clinic, there is nothing else to do than wait, get questionable hormones online and put your life at risk – or to go private.

“Which is what I did,” Seth states, “because going through private medical care to begin the transitioning does not prevent you to be on the waiting list and does not take you off the waiting list for the NHS Gender Clinic.” The simple reasons for Seth to go private was that he wanted to get on the hormone therapy treatment as soon as possible. “The doctors I was seen by at the private clinic were also NHS doctors, so I chose them since they work hand-in-hand with NHS. And since I wanted to go back to NHS after I had begun my hormone treatment, it was easier this way as they would know the system and could direct me and advise me for future with the NHS as well.” The process of starting hormone therapy treatment can take a long while, especially waiting for NHS, and going private is a choice not everyone can afford. Seth struggled with the financial strain. The knowledge of not being taken off the waiting list helped – as did starting the treatment that would begin the physical transformation to match Seth’s mentality and the identity he had now come to terms with.

Useful links for those searching for answers and beginning points to their regenerative transition journey in Scotland:

https://www.scottishtrans.org/trans-rights/practice/gender-reassignment/gender-specialists/

https://www.ngicns.scot.nhs.uk/services/gender-identity-clinics/

https://www.stonewallscotland.org.uk/our-work/community-resources/transgender/transitioning-adult