No one told me

If there's one thing I can say with certainty is that I'm in body. I go in and out of favor with my attentiveness, but here at the end of Day 14, I am conscious of being in my skin, of something going on inside of me. There's a house party going down inside of me, and I am paying a sweet price as its host. Fourteen days in and I've already looked in the mirror too many times and disliked everything I saw. An appropriate response for a person who hasn't considered that she isn't the cause of the problem or hasn't considered that's it's more fun to understand what's happening. An appropriate response for someone who is just beginning to master her new reality rather than be a passive recipient.

I'm thinking back now as I was preparing for all of this, thinking about all of those questions I had about what was about to happen. I realize that it wasn't just the physical side effects I was after, but I wanted to know how I might feel as I molted into a different version of myself. Not just, "How will it feel," but "How will I feel living this experience?" What were the obvious and normal questions and observations people have when they go from their familiar, invisible self to an unfamiliar, attention-demanding being. Thinking back, what I see now as I was getting "prepared" is a series of conversations with professionals speaking in data points, each using their own empathic tone, consciously void of anything that touched on feelings. When asked about energy levels, they would say "flu-like symptoms" or "fatigued." When asked about physical appearance, they would mention temporary baldness and rashes. Asked about sexuality, they said there may be some vaginal dryness.

I realize now that no one was being direct or explicit about the impact this can have on consciousness and identity. Nor were they providing any stewardship on how to sense and perceive this changing body of mine; how to listen to and search for the new changes; and maybe most sadly, offer any sources for emotional or spiritual support.

This entry isn't about cataloguing the shortcomings of the the medical profession. It's just the realization that I've been handed an experience where I have enormous opportunity to play a role and hadn't been prepared in advance for how big or how masterful that role could become. No one explained if and how this could be fun. When I say fun, I don't mean diversionary or silly. I mean conscious. I mean meaningfully engaged. I mean engaged in a fully blown experience, neither good nor bad, but filled with endless potential. No one told me, but that's ok. I'm telling myself.