This week I was formally given a diagnosis of gender dysphoria. Assuming I am physically healthy this could mean treatment is on the horizon.

I won’t lie to you. It’s scary. It’s going to create a lot of uncertainty in my future and it might cost me a great deal as a human being.

My last appointment with a psychiatrist had not been a nice experience for me. At this point I was still uncomfortable discussing my gender issues. There were deeply personal questions which I had never been asked by a medical professional. At the end of it, he was not convinced about me being trans. His wording made me feel as though he thought I was just making it up and was confused. Leaving the appointment I felt a sense of emptiness, and was unsure how to proceed. As the days went on though, I decided he was wrong, that this was the awful gatekeeping I had heard so much about. I went back to a doctor determined that I should have another chance. For some reason, the referral was never made, and it would be many months before I discovered this and went to another doctor for a referral.

In retrospect, there really wasn’t much else the psychiatrist could have done. My mental health had been poor, I was confused, ashamed, and unwilling to discuss things openly.

My heart sank a little when I realised I was seeing the same person. He had been polite and respectful toward me, but I still felt resentment.

This time I had decided not to withhold anything. I needed to do this. I had done some preparation. I made notes, I wore somewhat feminine clothing (first time I have done that at an appointment). I was expecting an uphill battle.

After going through all the usual family history and mental health stuff, we got on to the good bits. His questions made me feel uncertain at first, but when I answered them, and it was very brief, he was perfectly happy to diagnose me with gender dysphoria. I was a little taken aback, and was convinced that there must be more to it, but no.

It has been incredibly validating. I feel more comfortable accepting myself as a transgender woman than I ever have before. And I am now on the path to doing something about it. I suppose the time has come to look more into the social and day to day aspects of it and how I will manage that side of things.

My experience this time was positive, and I can only say good things about the NHS at this stage, save for the referral that never was sent (or never arrived). I can only speak for myself though. Reading the stories of other trans people often leaves the impression that every medical encounter is an uphill struggle against an oppressive system. I have no doubt that many of these stories are entirely true, and it is disheartening to think that I have been much more fortunate that other people going through what I am.

Nevertheless, I think things are improving for transgender people in the UK, and with trans healthcare. Let’s hope that this continues.