Build-a-Boy: Reflections from 4 years on Testosterone

The past four years have turned everything I thought I knew about masculinity on its head. I'm so grateful.

On February 2nd, 2021, my wife gave me my first testosterone injection. This weekend I celebrated this milestone. This was a beautiful, intimate moment, but in order to truly understand the story of what came after, we must also talk about what came before.

Since this piece is more narrative and doesn’t contain any urgent breaking news (besides that all men should read “the will to change” by bell hooks) it’ll be starting off as a piece for my paid subscribers. It will become available to everyone on March 1st! No permanent paywalls here.

This isn’t related to anything, I’m just obsessed with my dog and spent all morning laughing at this picture. He’s so smart!!

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I came out as transgender in 2015, and thanks to PCOS and a lucky genetic draw, I started "passing" fairly quickly.

Me during my “too masculine for smiling” phase

I wanted to make sure I was doing it "right", so for the first 4 months of my transition, my best friend and I became obsessed with the study of men. We would go to the food court at the mall and study how men walked, how they sat, how they engaged with each other. We would practice in front of each other, then ask the store clerks where the bathing suits were to see if they would send us to the mens or women’s sections.

I was constantly assessing whether or not I was manly enough. I tried to stop talking about my feelings, become tougher, and felt a need to get rid of all my hobbies and friendships that were too associated with the girl I had been.

After a few months, I was exhausted. I felt just as inauthentic as I had being a girl: I was still putting on a show. Just with a different costume. It wan't until I realized I could be a more feminine boy that I started to build a home in my masculinity, but I still had a long way to go.

Two teddy bears, circa 2016

“When are you starting T?”

Shortly after coming out, I cut my hair, revamped my wardrobe, and worked hard to make my voice deeper. People asked me often how long I'd been on testosterone, and were shocked to hear that I hadn't started. They were floored to subsequently learn that I wasn't particularly interested in starting. I wanted top surgery, but I wasn't interested in testosterone.

At the time, I don't think I would've been able to give you any one reason. I would usually just shrug and say "I'm happy enough without it."

But it was more than that. It was a collection of lots of little moments.

• Asking my OBGYN about it when she told me I needed some form of hormone supplement and being told "oh god, no, you don't want to do that."

• Hearing acts of violence referred to as a "testosterone fueled rage", or seeing the increasingly cruel behavior of high school boys waved away as "it's just the testosterone".

As I progressed through college and met increasingly large numbers of men lacking in empathy and allyship, I dug my heels in.

Though I never said it out loud, I was frightened that testosterone would make me a bad person.

When I graduated and got to work as a public speaker, I found so much joy in my ability to connect with others, my seemingly infinite well of patience and the near-inevitable trust and growth that patience would cultivate. My early career success was built on the fact that I was kind. My fears from college crystalized further.

When a friend asked why I hadn't started, I told them that I couldn't afford to stop being nice. I genuinely believed that starting testosterone would ruin my ability to work as an advocate and a changemaker. I avoided it.

Up until this point, I didn't age. I maintained the look of a bean-pole 11 year old boy. The cashiers at grocery stores asked me if I had the day off of school, even though I was buying wine!! legally!! Other queer folks mostly treated me like a cute little boy, which I totally was.

Cute little Ben circa 2020

What Changed?

To make a long story slightly shorter, I ended up seeing a doctor in 2020 who told me that for my health, I would either need to start taking estrogen or testosterone, and I decided it might be worth it to learn a little more about taking T. Over many months, this patient doctor answered all of my questions, my parents' questions, and asked me to list out what I thought testosterone would and wouldn't do.

She helped me set my expectations reasonably, and I decided to start on a low dose to give me time to adjust. Thus, the new phase of my journey began!

First shot in 2021 (left), one-year anniversary in 2022 (right)

For the first year, I didn't notice any major changes outside of voice cracks. It is not fun to be a public speaker with voice cracks. Seeing myself as so far safe from my fears of becoming a hyper-masculing supervillain, I steadily increased my dose. In 2021 and 2022, I didn't notice any major physical changes. I still looked like a cute little boy.

Emotionally, I describe my experience on testosterone as turning up the volume on what was already here. I didn’t become aggressive—I became aggressively nice. I was firming in asserting my boundaries and protecting the people I care about.

I was shocked (reader, please note the absolute dripping sarcasm here) to learn that as it turns out, toxic, hostile, misogynistic men are choosing to be that way. Toxic masculinity, emotional repression, and misogyny are not biological inevitabilities. They are cultural failings—teachings and traumas which testosterone then “turns the volume up” on. This also means that men have the ability to choose to be different. More on this later.

My Glow Up! At Last!

In mid-2023, as the kids like to say, puberty hit me like a truck. I grew my hair out, I decided to adopt a lil beard as part of my official "look", my shoulders started to move outwards, and my voice landed comfortably in a new, deeper register.

Ben enjoying a heavy sangria pour at a local board game restaurant circa 2023!

It was at this point that I started to notice three significant shifts:

1. I was increasingly frustrated at how much I’d missed out on.

2. I was becoming more comfortable with my femininity

3. Others, particularly strangers, were becoming less comfortable with me.

Why did Nobody Tell me This?

Though it’s true that I wasn’t miserable without testosterone, I quickly came to understand that I am so much more joyful with it. Top surgery helped me stop seeing my body as a prison, but testosterone helped me build a home in my body.

The absolute revelation that testosterone brought about also carried with it some level of grief. Why had no one told me how happy this could make me? Why had my doctor shut down the conversation before I could even start to ask about it? Why had we let men get away with pinning all the blame on their hormones for so long?

Even in the positive ways we talk about HRT, we focus on the suicide prevention elements. At that phase of my life, I wasn’t particularly suicidal, so I assumed I didn’t “need” this. Few people were talking about the joy that can (and often does) come with hormone replacement therapy, so I didn’t see myself in those conversations.

I wonder often how many happier years I could have had, what changes I might’ve been able to see if I had started a little younger. As things are, certain parts of my body were “set” by 21. My height, the curve of my hips, the size of my feet.

I wish I had known how much joy I would find here.

Femininity as a Gift

In regards to my self comfort, it was a remarkable change that I hadn't seen coming, though have since heard about from many others I've spoken to. Feeling so confident in my masculinity and my form of manliness gave me the safety I needed to explore my femininity.

I used to be deeply sensitive to being misgendered, to clothing that might make me look too feminine, to hobbies or traits that might serve as the evidence someone was searching for that I wasn't "really trans". But once I had found complete and utter confidence in seeing myself as a man, I started to see femininity as a beautiful, colorful, critical part of my life rather than some kind of failure to "fully transition". Now, you'll catch me referring to myself as "one of the gals" without flinching, making jokes about my anatomy, even thinking about trying drag with a few friends!

To be clear, my beard and my HRT are not what make me a “real man”. For me, these were the kick in the pants I needed to start viewing myself more expansively. For others this freedom is easier to find on a different path. I have been a real man since the moment I announced it to myself, but testosterone was the catalyst I personally needed to decided what kind of “real man” I wanted to be.

Masculinity as a Threat

Other people’s comfort was a change that I was certainly not expecting. As you might’ve picked up on by now, I’m an extrovert. I love talking to people, making new friends, and that used to be generally well received. Seemingly overnight, though, approaching random people (usually women or other queer folks) in the bookstore wasn’t as well received as it once was.

People often were startled that some man was talking to them, and would usually try to convey polite disinterest. Even in queer spaces, I found that some people treated me with a higher level of suspicion/high walls until I could figure out how to casually communicate that I was trans.

At first, I was angry about this. I knew I hadn’t changed my intentions, or become any more threatening, so why were people jumping to suspicions now that I had a little more facial hair? How could something that had brought me so much joy also cost me so much community?

Then, I needed to sit with these feelings. More specifically, I needed to sit with the brilliant bell hooks and this book:

The Will to Change, by bell hooks

I needed to come to grips with the reality that the patriarchy hurts all of us in unique ways, including in the isolation it creates for so many men. I needed to reflect on the pieces of masculinity I had jumped into without pause for critical reflection. Most of all, I needed to recognize that if I was mad about the fear the structure of patriarchy had created, my fight was with patriarchy—not the people who are feeling that fear.

I’m still in the process of figuring out what kind of man I want to be. I’m learning how to style my beard, when to shave my mustache. I’m learning how to use my newly unlocked set of privileges to stand up for the women around me. I’m learning how to become a place of safety for all folks, in the strength I’ve built in my body and in the softness of my words.

This journey will last my entire life, and I will err often. I am so fortunate to have met and learned from so many amazing folks who built their own masculinity, who opted out of assumptions about how a man had to be. To be surrounded by women who check me when I need it, push me to grow, and celebrate my explorations of masculinity and femininity.

Some pure trans joy with my beautiful wife!! the love of my life!! My favorite woman of all time!!

I’ve said it once, I’ll say it again, I’ll say it a million times. Being trans is one of the greatest gifts I have been given. To live simultaneously as both artist and artwork, to view masculinity and femininity as an all-you-can-eat buffet rather than a set of checkboxes, has been a magical way to live my life. This is trans joy in action, baby!

With love and joy as always,

Ben