Non-Trans Transitioning & Libidinousness

Last week I met a friend for lunch who mentioned that her sister went through a "natural transition" due to something called polycystic ovarian syndrome (PCOS), which I'd never heard of before. Apparently it's an endocrine disorder that can naturally occur in some biological women. According to Wikipedia, common symptoms of PCOS include:

* Oligomenorrhea, amenorrhea — irregular, few, or absent menstrual periods.
* Infertility, generally resulting from chronic anovulation (lack of ovulation).
* Hirsutism — excessive and increased body hair, typically in a male pattern affecting face, chest and legs.
* Hair loss appearing as thinning hair on the top of the head
* Acne, oily skin, seborrhea.
* Obesity: one in two women with PCOS are obese.
* Depression.
* Deepening of voice

Uh, sound familiar? I was completely fascinated to hear about this, especially in regards to its relation to the gender binary and the stereotypes associated with biological males and females. I can only imagine how confusing it would be for a woman who is not trans and who identifies as a woman to be diagnosed with PCOS and to suddenly have her body essentially transition in highly masculine ways that are socially and commonly associated with males. Gadz variation is neat.

Warning: Proceed Reading at Your Own Risk!

Puberty takes on many forms. It has created a diverse teenage subculture and groups such as the Emos, trans boys, meat heads, and slutty studs have graced our planet's soil through the wonders of an increase in testosterone production. It's also created 99.9% of all porn websites. It is no wonder that celebrated contemporary writers, such as Maddox, praise puberty, offering such timeless quotes as

“How do you dumbasses manage to breathe?”
~ Maddox on praising groups affected by puberty.

Now, I'm going to attempt to convey something here in the least graphic, skeezy way I can for the sole purpose of expressing a byproduct of my adult male puberty that has been, well... interesting. And it has a lot to do with the libidinous effects of testosterone.

Essentially, I'd been very skeptical of the impact the introduction of testosterone would have on my libido. I thought, yes, there are general differences between sexes when it comes to sex drive, yet how much of that can be attributed to differences in hormone levels and genetics? How much do cultural expectations and peer pressures account for a lot of behavioral differences? Does it actually significantly increase someone's sex drive, or is it a placebo effect from knowing they now have more testosterone in their body and, therefore, are presumably going to be more sex-obsessed because that's how "men" are expected to be? It's a stereotype and a cliche, but is it true?

Obviously socialization plays a role. Individuals socialized as "men" are generally encouraged to pursue sex more than women. There's also a double standard. In general, women get the message that it is not appropriate to be sexual, while men are looked at as studs if they are. Also, we tend to think of men having the higher sex drive, but that isn't always true, but more often, it is. What up!?

Lots of questions and vast debates about all of the above and plausible theories and soaring emotions. Nature vs. nurture and all that jazz. For me, however, these series of questions became particularly interesting once I started transitioning. The only difference between the me I've always known and the me I know now is the introduction of 0.10mL of testosterone every 2 weeks. I'm the same person with my same background, socialization and experiences. I honestly didn't think that a lot would change, aside from becoming a happier, more "connected" person physiologically. Yet, next thing I know, things changed a great deal.

A lot actually has been changing and it's affected my behavior to some extent. This became painfully clear the other night. In a compressed version, when it comes to hanky pank, I'm an impatient, blundering fool. I'm sure that I'll be the smooth Casanova I once was in no time, but, in the meantime, it's definitely a learning curve and a startling, embarrassing, and somewhat horrifying struggle.

This has permeated other aspects of my behavior, where, like I mentioned above, I feel less controlled and more flustered around individuals I'm attracted to. I'm surprised and honestly didn't expect such a vast difference.

CNN ran an article in December titled 'Testosterone patch may kick-start sex drive in women' about research that had been published about postmenopausal women who have lost interest in sex potentially being able to bring their libidos back to life with a testosterone patch. Women, as well as men, produce testosterone and since women lose much of their testosterone, as well as estrogen, at menopause, the very low testosterone level interferes with the sex drive.

So yes, it's no grandiose epiphany to realize the obvious: testosterone does have a huge behavioral impact, moreso than I realized. I haven't explicitly noticed any changes aside from the libidinous impact, like in mood or aggressiveness (which I'm frequently asked about). Then again, I'm trying to be as honest as possible with myself and will try to be aware of changes other than the physically obvious.


On a related note, the above picture is from a graphic novel called 'Black Hole' where sex spreads among scared, horny teenagers like a terrifying disease. I entirely relate.

p.s. I had the most nerdtacular dream last night. I WAS ON THE STARSHIP ENTERPRISE! All I remember is that I was wearing a tight red and black Trekkie uniform stuck on a desert planet. Some kind of drama was ensuing between some members of the crew and I, and while bickering back and forth on our communicators they refused to beam me up. Rude.