DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: So, a bit of backstory. It’s been a long time since I (36F) have dated anyone. A really, really long time. I think the last time I laid eyes on a penis that I didn’t have to diaper was on the night my son was conceived, oh, roughly 16 years ago.

And, while I’ve gingerly tried to dip my toes back in the waters several times over the years, it feels like something is always getting in the way. Postpartum depression, trying to work/finish college/ care for a child, working 2 jobs while caring for a child, caring for grandma because she fell down the steps, caring for grandpa while he recovers from yet another open heart surgery, the dog died, whoops, now it’s three jobs, grandpa’s dead now, grandma’s got dementia, whoops, there goes my cat! I could probably list forty other things that have happened in that period that took up my mental bandwidth, but let’s be honest. Who has that kind of time?

It’s… a lot. I know it’s a lot, and it’s part of the reason why my lack of partners hasn’t really bothered me all that much. There was just never enough time for me to think about it too much. I mean, sure, sometimes loneliness reared its ugly head in the wee hours of the morning or on a particularly long commute home, but that usually coincided with a visit from Aunt Flo and went away once she was gone.

Only now, it isn’t going away. I’m breaking out into tears everywhere, intrusive thoughts over the marital status of random dudes are taking over my mind, and I know exactly why. See, my two younger sisters have been doing just fine in the dating department. Fine enough that one of them is getting married this summer and the other looks like she isn’t that far behind.

And I’m happy for them! Really! Both of them are lovely people, and their other halves are wonderful too. They deserve to be happy and prosperous and to have all the good things in life happen to them.

But that hasn’t stopped me from feeling like s--t every holiday when I go back home. I actually skipped Thanksgiving and didn’t bother trying to get off work for Christmas this year. I don’t have it in me to face them right now. I mean, f--k, when I finally met my youngest sister’s boyfriend for the first time last Thanksgiving, I actually had a panic attack. I thought I was having a heart attack, only, I’d been sitting at the dining room table. I knew they were getting older, and that they had their own lives, but I guess seeing it that day drove home the fact that they were moving on while I felt trapped and shackled to a life I can’t stand.

I know weddings are a socially acceptable time to cry, but I don’t trust myself not to cry the entire time, or worse, have another panic attack watching my beautiful sister walk down the aisle. I’m supposed to be a supportive big sister and she was so happy when I agreed to be one of her bridesmaids.

How can I avoid ruining my sister’s big day? I’m not about to just pick any random dude to fill a hole marked “man”. Relationships take work, and realistically I’m not going to have the mental capacity to work on a relationship until after grandma is dead. A depressing thought, but one rooted firmly in the realities of caregiving. I can’t just not go. I need some help here. What can I do?

Thanks for your time,

Blokeless On The Coast

DEAR BLOKELESS ON THE COAST: OK, I’m going to go out on a limb here, BOTC, and say that the issue isn’t stress about being single. In fact, I think you need to take relationships and dating out of the equation entirely – those honestly aren’t the issue here. The panic attacks and intrusive thoughts about dating and your sisters’ weddings are symptoms of a much bigger problem.

I think the issue is you’ve got a severe case of caregiver burnout. You’re not burning the candle at both ends so much as having coated the entire thing in lighter fluid and dropped the match on it.

I mean, just “child care, two (now three) jobs and taking care of two elderly family members who need nearly round the clock attention under incredibly stressful circumstances” is going to tax the s--t out of Steve goddamn Rodgers. You are trying to do this with no training, no super soldier serum and – from the sounds of it – no backup.

Honestly, I don’t think it’s that much of a mystery as to why you’re struggling, y’know? I think these panic attacks are less about the wedding and your being single and more that those are the holes in the dam that is your psyche trying to hold everything together. Yeah, you’ve managed it so far but f--king hell, something’s gonna give eventually, and right now when it does, it’s going to take the entire town with it.

Right now I think you may want to put the relationship question aside for the moment and ask a more important one: are you getting any help, from any source? Are you the sole caregiver taking care of your grandmother? Is anyone else in your family helping out, even if it’s contributing to the expense of taking care of them? Do you have any sort of support network of your own that you can turn to? Or are you trying to do all of this solo?

If you’re literally the one person trying to keep all this going and raise your son and work three jobs? Well there’s your problem!

You don’t need a date to the wedding so much as you need help. Extra bodies on deck, extra hands to lighten the load, even just some cash to help cover the considerable expense of elder care, especially for someone with dementia. I mean, s--t, at least Cinderella had the birds and mice to help out when she wanted a night off.

You need more than a night off though. You need actual recovery time. You’re deep in burnout and that’s not a “grit your teeth and white knuckle your way through to the other side” situation. This is a “have to get serious respite” situation, not just a night where you get a bubble bath, a bottle of wine and something suitably cheesy and enjoyable on Netflix.

First and foremost, I hope you’re talking to someone – a counselor or therapist, somebody – about not just your panic attacks but the sheer weight of all the responsibilities your shouldering. Having someone to talk to, especially a healthcare provider, is going to be important here.

But the next thing I think you need is to find ways to ease these burdens and take responsibilities off your plate. You’re trying to do superhuman levels of work when you’re a regular person. I don’t know if your siblings or your parents live near by and can help out by either giving you time off from taking care of grandma, doing some cooking or cleaning for you so that you aren’t breaking yourself to pieces. If they aren’t close enough to help in person, maybe they can help in other ways – say, kicking in some money every month so that you could hire in-home care for your grandmother, or hire a cleaning service to help take care of the house while you’re handling these other responsibilities.

You might also want to see if you can find local resources for familial caregivers. There may be options in your community for support and services that you aren’t availing yourself of. There may even be options to help make it more affordable. If you’re not sure where to start looking, talk to your grandmother’s health care provider; they can likely point you in the right direction.

And while I realize this isn’t necessarily what you might want – have you looked into assisted living or even adult daycare services? I understand that you don’t want to shuffle Grandma off to a home and forget about her – and God knows there’re horror stories about elder abuse in nursing homes – but even a temporary stay or someone taking over for you briefly can give you some much needed time away to recover. It may be worth your time to visit The ARCH National Respite Network and Resource Center to see what’s available to you in terms of respite care – giving yourself time away just to recoup and recover.

Because Jesus tapdancing frog, BOTC, you are doing way too much by yourself. This isn’t some failing on your part, unless you think that your not being Doctor Manhattan is a failing. You’re one person with limited resources trying to do the job that used to fall to an entire extended family or village. You aren’t failing, you’re working goddamn miracles. The problem is that miracles have a price and you’re the one paying.

You need to ease your burdens – both for your own sake but also for your family. If you don’t take care of yourself, you’re not going to be able to take care of your grandmother or your son. You are a priority and you should treat yourself like one. It’s great that you’re being the supportive older sister but maybe your siblings and parents should try being more supportive too.

I don’t imagine that your family wants you to break yourself into pieces trying to manage all of this. If you haven’t told them that you’re struggling, then now is absolutely the time to do so. It’s not selfish to say “hey, this is too much for me, I need help,” or to say “No, I can’t take on any more, I have too much on my hands as it is.”

You need help, you need support and you need a break. And if you don’t choose when you take one, life is going to choose for you… and it’ll do so at a time and in a way that is going to disrupt everything.

Take time to lighten the load you’re carrying around for a bit, BOTC. You’re not Atlas; you don’t need to bear the weight of the world on your shoulders by yourself. Deal with this burnout, give yourself some recovery time and you’ll have more bandwidth and more everything to deal with the areas of life you want to prioritize.

Good luck.

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DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: So I think I have an idea of what my issue with dating is, and could use a differential diagnosis to avoid a “the problem you think you have is not the problem you actually have” situation.

I am 33 and autistic. A little over 2 years ago I began a “real” job for the first time. Not having ever worked full time, I’ve adjusted poorly to the time requirements. For nearly a year and a half, my whole life consisted almost entirely of work and sleep. Things are better now due to a couple med changes, not great, but I can actually do stuff after work.

Even though all this (frankly hellish) period I’ve tried to find someone to start a relationship with. I understand that this was doomed from the start, and unsurprisingly it made me feel worse. I am now actually mostly functional in my free time, and still wanting to date. However I don’t know how to go about that.

I know you’re standard advice is to “expand your social group and meet people, and try to spend time where the people you like want to hang out”. My issue is that sounds like a f--king awful time to me. I don’t mean to shut you down. While I’m not sleeping 4+ hours in the afternoon, after being in an office and amongst people for 8 hours a day I am fully “peopled out”.

I’ve not really done well socially at my job. I connected a slight bit at the start, but the strain wore me down since I literally couldn’t do anything other than work. Even now I can’t really spare the effort it takes to show the social cues neurotypicals expect, and most people look at me like the creepy loner I’m sure I give the vibes of. I definitely will not try finding a girlfriend at work, and I’m not really able to give the effort repairing my reputation needs if I have to do a whole ass job on top of that.

Even before working any job I tried going to a board game group my friend invited me to. I interacted even on my own and the sheer struggle of being around lots of people I don’t know never went away. My friend didn’t come very often and I did try participating on my own. I kept going for almost 2 years, even in COVID (masked and distanced) and I never connected with anyone. Just one time near the end of a meetup I just realized “I f--king hate doing this” and never went back.

I know you normally suggest exactly what I did, so I’m wondering what I can do to meet people I would want to date? Maybe things to avoid getting drained from work? Ways to be in groups so I don’t feel like I’m smacking my head into a wall repeatedly? Maybe even how to show my authentic self when I’m too tired to try acting like a neurotypical?

This is my assessment of my obstacles in finding a partner, but I’m not sure. Am I totally off the path and need to backtrack? Have something of the right idea?

Thanks for listening,

Stuck Behind The Wall

DEAR STUCK BEHIND THE WALL: OK SBTW, I want to preface this by saying that I understand how things feel right now. But you asked for a ruling on whether “the problem you have isn’t the problem you think you have” and… well, yeah.

This isn’t to say that you aren’t having real and legitimate challenges or that you aren’t struggling. It’s just that there are some ways that you’re making this much harder on yourself than it absolutely needs to be.

There’re two things that leap out at me in your letter. The first is how much energy you’re expending at work and how exhausted it leaves you. The other was the tossed off comment of “most people look at me like the creepy loner I’m sure I give the vibes of”.

Now the thing about these two points is that they’re pretty intertwined; as is the case with so many, much of it comes down to how you see yourself. I say that because this self-image – and how you assume others see you because of it – has a direct effect on how you pursue things.

This is why I have a question for you: do your coworkers know you’re autistic? Not just “oh yeah, they probably can tell” or assuming that people have guessed, but actually telling people? What about people in the groups you’ve participated in? Or are you trying your damnedest to mask when you’re out and about?

Here’s the thing: you’re autistic. That’s a data point about you, neither good nor bad. It is, however, a very important point because it’s fundamental to who you are and how you move through this world and interact with it. So in a very real way, the fact that you’re autistic is a key point of understanding you as a person.

The problem is, it seems like you’re not really comfortable with that. This isn’t entirely unreasonable, since a lot of neurotypical people don’t necessarily have an understanding of autism or autistic people that isn’t filtered through something like The Good Doctor or The Big Bang Theory. But a lot of these mistaken ideas or misunderstandings come down as much to a lack of familiarity as anything else. It’s easy to believe in hyped up stereotypes when that’s your only exposure to autism and autistic people as a concept.

But at the same time, there’s a certain amount of internalized “nobody could possibly like me, everything about me is going to be off-putting because I’m autistic” in your letter. That comment about “creepy loner vibes” is a prime example – the idea that people are going to take your normal behavior in the worst possible light and assume the worst about you. There’s a lot involved here about how you think of yourself – the assumption that you can’t not give people the creeps – but also that people couldn’t possibly like you.

Well… no, they can’t. Not if you don’t give them a chance to actually get to know you. And when you’re pre-rejecting yourself and telling yourself that those efforts are doomed… they absolutely will be.

This is the problem in a nutshell. If someone doesn’t know you, they don’t have the context or familiarity that might explain why you are the way you are. Someone who has ADHD can seem distracted or lazy or self-involved to folks who don’t know them. Someone who has social anxiety can seem reserved, stand-offish or even snobbish by the way they don’t interact with others, even though the issue is that they’re worried about putting a foot wrong in some nebulous way. But if people know you and know what you’re about, then they have actual context that changes how they see things. They, at the very least, can understand that you’re isolating or holding yourself apart because you’re trying to avoid getting overstimulated. Or, knowing that you may have issues with social cues, be able to communicate with you in a way that’s more effective and easier for you to understand, instead of your having to deal with miscommunications and misunderstandings.

Owning the fact that you’re autistic isn’t just about dealing with some sort of internalized ableism or neuroatypical pride; it’s about access to information that people could use about you and your getting access to resources you might need. And this means that you’d have to spend less time and less energy masking and have more energy to spend elsewhere – such as socializing or  finding new groups that interest you.

And just as importantly, it makes it that much easier to find people who are actually right for you. That can’t happen if you’re trying to hold up a version of you that comes across as neurotypical; that’s the mask, not you. So when you do stop masking… well, now you’re your authentic self, but that’s not necessarily the self that they were getting to know.

All relationships – personal and professional, romantic and platonic – require levels of intimacy and honesty. If you want to be close with someone, especially in a romantic relationship, you have to give them a chance, and you have to let them see the real you and let them connect with the real you.

Right now, it seems like you’re hesitant to do this. The “people look at me like I’m the creepy loner” is kinda telling. How much of that is actually true and how much of that is you making assumptions based on what you think they’re thinking? Have you actually heard anyone say anything close to this, or are you filling in the blanks based on what you expect them to think? Seeing as you qualify this with “the vibes I’m sure I give off,” I’m going to guess the latter.

But this is the exact problem: you’re holding people at arm’s length to a degree, in part because you’ve assumed that they already don’t like you based on assumptions you have about yourself and about them. If you’re pre-rejecting yourself but also responding to the rejection that hasn’t happened yet, then you’re creating a self-fulfilling prophecy. You assume people aren’t going to like you because you tend to isolate yourself – after all, you’re introverted and autistic and masking is exhausting. But then you respond as though the rejections and dislike has already happened, causing you to mask harder, isolate further and generally avoid people, which makes you seem like more of a loner who is actively disinterested in other people. So people are going to assume you don’t like them before you’ve really even talked to them, the vibes will be off and all the rest of the advice I would have for how to meet and date people would be pointless.

And this, I suspect, is something that has followed you everywhere – not just to work, but in other social situations that haven’t panned out.

The important thing to realize is that yeah, there will probably be people who aren’t going to be interested in a relationship with you – whether romantic or platonic – because you’re autistic. And while that’s going to sting (as all rejections do), it’s ultimately a good thing; these are people who are self-selecting out of your dating pool. After all, the last person you would want to date is someone who’s going to see this one data point about you and says “ew, no”. That’s not a flaw in you that they’re responding to, that’s someone who’s doing you a favor by moving the f--k on and leaving you free to find people who are right for you, people who are going to see that being autistic is just one part of who you are – an important part, to be sure, but just a part, not the totality. You want people who accept you and who want to connect with the holistic you – the sum totality of who you are.

But people can’t accept and connect with you if you don’t let them know the real you. They can’t connect or communicate in the ways that you may need if they don’t know you need them in the first place. Letting people know about your true self is, in a very real way, giving them the “here’s how you win with me” cheat sheet to who you are as a person. It can be scary to be vulnerable in that way, because it means you’re opening yourself up to the risk of being hurt. But there is no reward without risk, and the people can’t accept you if you don’t give them the chance.

So while I don’t think you need to introduce yourself around to everyone as “Hey, I’m Stuck Behind the Wall and I’m autistic”, letting people know this about you can be important. Part of this will make it easier for folks to understand what’s up with you when you can say “hey, I need to step away for a few because X is too loud or Y is distracting me and it’s becoming too much”, or “hey, I don’t always pick up on nuance, so it really helps if you’re just direct and straight forward with me”.

I mean, think of how much bandwidth you’ll free up if it’s not devoted to masking or trying to parse every single vocal intonation or syllable for meaning. Just as importantly, how much easier will it be if you can focus on finding environments and groups that aren’t going to overwhelm you or leave you feeling anxious and actually enjoy yourself instead.

Yeah, there’s likely going to be an adjustment period of awkwardness – much in the way there was trying to get used to a full-time job. But that adjustment period goes a lot faster if you start now than if you keep waiting and waiting and hoping. And again, it creates a lot of context that helps people understand you and allows them to meet you where you actually are.

From there you can start to build relationships with people – find the folks who you like hanging out with and who like hanging out with you, find the places you like to spend time and which hit your interests just so.

Give people a chance to actually get to know you, SBTW, instead of hiding it behind masks and layers. Get comfortable with being your best, most authentic self, instead of the illusion of neurotypicality. It’s ultimately easier on yourself and means that the people you do connect with are folks who get you. And you deserve people in your life who get you.

You just have to give them that chance, first.

Good luck.

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DEAR DR. NERDLOVE: So this is going to be a weird one and I hope it’s not TMI, but considering some of the stuff you’ve gotten on here, hopefully not?

I think I’m genuinely undateable at this point.

Around ten years ago, I had my first and only real relationship experience – he turned out to be violently abusive and I was lucky to get out as soon as I did without worse happening. I didn’t even attempt to date for a long, long time after – during that time, I started pursuing something I had long thought out of reach and figured wasn’t worth trying – gender transitioning. FtM.

I went on T and did get top surgery (though that was largely due to the big C rearing its ugly head – hadn’t quite gotten to that point, but gene testing showed it was pretty much guaranteed and I was already showing worrying signs so I figured two tits one scalpel) and even got pictures and videos of the procedure from the amazing doctors, though I do have to admit doing an evil with one of the pics.

However, I noticed something about the T – I ended up being moved up to higher and higher doses until I was on the highest they could safely prescribe, and the only change that happened was a tiny, TINY deepening of my voice – just enough that I couldn’t sing anymore and it sounded foreign to me – but not enough to sound masculine, and hair. Lots and lots of hair. Visible beard line even after shaving as close as possible hair. I followed other people’s journeys and they were looking like a natural, completely different person after around six months, while I just looked like a really hairy girl.

A later medical incident and testing, and I was told that the reason I survived that incident at all – and why the T hadn’t worked – was that my body just doesn’t absorb and process things the way it’s supposed to, and there’s really nothing they can do about that. The point that I’d gotten to on T, with the body hair and a tiny tiny deepening of the voice? That was as far as I’d ever, ever get. There wasn’t anything more that could be done – it didn’t matter if I was using injections, the gel, anything, I’d never get to the point of just looking and sounding like a guy to the average person on the street, which is what I wanted.

I tried doing the ‘nonbinary’ thing for a bit, but…I just don’t have it in me. I don’t have the strength to constantly argue about my identity, to have to constantly correct people on the phone or in person, to have people double-take at my ID or my name and having to explain things every single time I apply for a job or meet new people. I have enough to deal with just surviving everything else going on in life right now, I don’t have the spare fire in me to deal with that as well.

So, I started the detransitioning process. I’m undergoing reconstructive surgery now, although that’s been taking forever and keeps getting pushed back because of how far away the only doctors insurance will cover are, and gas being insanely expensive, having to take time off work to get there, etc. They won’t put me on estrogen, said that my levels looked normal after I stopped taking T, and they won’t give me anything additional because it could cause problems.

Basically, I’m a mess of scars, a lot of hair, a voice that is just a little *off* and a constant beard line that becomes shag within a day of shaving. I wasn’t what I’d call beautiful to begin with, but now…yeah. Especially now that I’m in my thirties which, according to a lot of people, is already ‘past the sell by date’ for women who DON’T have all my issues going on.

I have no family, am below the poverty line and basically have nothing of value to offer. Before the attempted transition, I’d say I at least was pretty, but now there’s not even that. I know that a lot of people have physical problems way worse than mine and are still perfectly able to date, but I feel like with my history in particular – how I basically did it to myself – and how I still sometimes feel like I don’t even truly *want* to detransition, even if I’ve accepted it is my best option at this point and honestly feel okay with being feminine now more so than I did before – I just feel like I’d be way too much baggage and all for anyone to want to deal with.

I still feel incredibly lonely sometimes and would love to get the ACTUAL having a partner experience – watching movies while snuggling on the couch, playing games together, giving each other thoughtful gifts, just being there for each other when the other is sick (I will mother hen the HELL out of you, I love cooking and baking and will put on my bumblebee apron and spend all day in the kitchen if I have an excuse to) but I feel like there isn’t anyone who would genuinely want someone with all of what I have going on who would also be someone I’d want to be with – someone who I’d never have to be afraid of, who would never turn on me and wouldn’t just want me around to cook and clean for them and be a bang maid.

Am I being too pessimistic? I’ve been told that, but I honestly think I’m just being realistic and trying to seek out relationships terrifies me. I can never be sure who is safe to talk to or not at this point.

Too Messed Up

DEAR TOO MESSED UP: This is a really complicated one, TMU, and some of it is going to be outside of my pay-grade. Dr. NerdLove is not a real doctor after all, so there isn’t as much that I can say about the issues you’ve had regarding going on testosterone, nor – as a cis man – do I have a lot that I can say about transitioning, de-transitioning or dealing with the process in either direction. I hope you’ve got friends and loved ones in the trans community who can talk to you more about their experiences with transitioning – especially with passing or results from T; I strongly suspect you’ll find that you’re not the only person who’s dealt with these issues, and they can speak more to what their experiences were and how to handle things.

Now what I can say is that I think there’s a lot going on that’s wrapped up in your sense of self and self-worth, especially after having dealt with a double mastectomy, a seemingly failed transition and surviving a violently abusive relationship. I know a lot of cis women who’ve felt disconnected to their sense of sexuality and desirability after having had to get mastectomies or lumpectomies. Similarly, the after effects of a physically abusive relationship can linger for a long time; not all scars are visible after all, and sometimes the worst ones are the ones that can’t be seen.

I think part of the problem is… well, you’ve been through the goddamn wringer. You’ve dealt with more life-altering crises and medical nightmares in what seems like a relatively short amount of time than most people do in a lifetime. I don’t think that it’s unreasonable to say that maybe part of the problem is that you’re still recovering from, well, all of that. You’ve had your sense of self ripped up, tossed up in the air and then basically were told “ok, try to make something out of this” before you’ve really had a chance to stop and catch your breath.

Maybe that’s the best thing you can do right now: stop and catch your breath. I realize that’s not the sort of answer that you necessarily want to hear at this juncture, but I feel that it’s rather important. Even Lucifer Morningstar, first among the angels, had to stop and take a moment to say “well, f--k” after getting kicked out of Heaven and crash-landing in Hell.

Or to put it another way – and to use an awkward metaphor – it’s a little like a computer that’s had a sudden power surge or is connected to a hub that drew too much power and now some of the ports aren’t working. The solution is often to unplug everything from the power source, give it time for everything to discharge and then plug things back in, a couple at a time.

Most of what you’re feeling about yourself right now – both about yourself and your hope for the future – are just that: feelings. They’re not objective truths about how you’re irreparably f--ked, they’re side effects that come from  you being a reasonable person who’s trying to get through a series of really f--king unreasonable situations. The problem is that while those situations may have ended, the after effects are still lingering. It’s like you said about where you were before you decided to detransition: you’re having to devote all your energy just to keeping your head above water. With everything that’s happened, I’m entirely un-f--king-surprised that you feel like ten pounds of ass in a five pound sack. You’ve been through the wars and part of you is still there. You’re allowed to say “f--k all of this, I’m exhausted”. You’re allowed to say “Everything hurts and I don’t know where I stand on anything.” And you’re allowed to feel awful about things because s--t is awful.

But the important part is to recognize that the fact that s--t is awful and you feel awful doesn’t mean that you are s--t. You’re not. You are just someone who hasn’t had solid, secure ground under your feet in God alone knows how long.

So I think the first thing you need is to just give yourself permission to just take dating and relationships off the table for a moment while you figure s--t out and just try to get a sense of normalcy back. Obviously, the status quo has been changed and there’s no going back to who you were before you decided to transition – you can’t step in the same river twice, after all. So give yourself permission to say “Ok, I’ll deal with this part of things later, when I’m able to.” 

Yes, I know that you’re feeling the time crunch. We’ll come back to the obvious fear in a moment.

This is a point where an order of operations is going to be crucial, where you need to be going through the Maslow’s Hierarchy and starting with the “I need this to survive” stages, before focusing on dating or relationships.

And to be clear, I’m including your sense of self and connection to your body and feelings about your gender as part of what you need to survive. You’ve already had that thrown into disarray, and you have more surgeries coming up that will likewise affect your sense of self and gender presentation. I think that giving yourself permission to put everything that isn’t immediately necessary on hold for now until those are out of the way is entirely reasonable. Taking the anxiety of “ok, I have to disrupt more of my life for reconstructive surgery, how do I fit everything else in” off the table, for example, will free up bandwidth that you can apply to other parts of your life and who you are now.

Part of that will be coming to grips with transitioning and de-transitioning; hopefully you are talking to someone about this, especially someone who knows about trans issues. It may also involve other forms of gender confirmation – laser hair removal, for example. Or it may be recognizing that you don’t necessarily need to medically transition to be trans. Or recognizing that you don’t necessarily need to be fully able to “pass” to be your true gender.

These are, admittedly, complicated and contentious issues, and I know that there’s a lot of discourse about them in the trans community. I fully acknowledge that this is well outside my area of expertise, so I would recommend that you find people who are more conversant in these issues to talk things through and hopefully help you find your way through. Especially if you can find a therapist who works with trans people and the unique issues they face.

Another part will detoxing some of the negative s--t that’s been accumulating in the corners and crevices of your mind and tainting your sense of value and self-worth.

That ‘past your sell-by date’ nonsense about being over thirty is a prime example; that’s is the sort of bulls--t that’s mostly used to give women and femme-presenting people anxiety, and it’s almost always based on junk science and s--tty understanding of data. I’m old enough to remember the infamous “a woman is more likely to be killed by a terrorist than to be married after 30” line of bulls--t – which, incidentally, wasn’t even from a scientific study but from a news article reporting on the study, which was since debunked.

Another thing is that yes, there are other people out there who’ve had greater physical issues and still date successfully. But there’s a difference between acknowledging this as truth and using it as a reason to continue to live in hope and using it as yet another cudgel to beat yourself with. 

Did you “do this to yourself”? Well… yes and no. Some things, like top surgery, were likely inevitable; you have the genetic markers for being especially prone to breast cancer after all. But others, like apparently having some form of androgen insensitivity? That’s not something you “did to yourself”, nor is it something that you could reasonably have anticipated. You would have to have divine foresight to have ever seen that being an issue before you tried to transition. That’s not a failure on your part or “something you did to yourself”, that’s just pure bad luck. Beating yourself up over that is ultimately just punishing yourself for not having cosmic awareness; if you wouldn’t blame someone for not being aware of things lurking in their genetic code, why can’t you give yourself that same grace?

And honestly, I feel like much of this may be lingering remnants of the abuse you experienced before. Being a survivor of domestic violence and relationship abuse does a number on one’s psyche. Even if, intellectually, you understand that it was their fault, not yours, that doesn’t always mean that you’ve fully accepted it emotionally. Especially when you’ve had these negative experiences afterwards that would seem to confirm that you’re “broken” in some way.

But here’s the thing: even if you’ve been shattered, that doesn’t mean that you’re broken or that you need to hide that you ever had these issues. Yeah, you’ve got scars, the hair… that all happened. You can’t make them unhappen, but neither should you not acknowledge them or hide them away. I’m reminded of the process of kintsugi – repairing broken ceramic and pottery with gold and lacquer in a way that leaves gold seams where the cracks were. In this way, it’s acknowledging that the break happened and that it’s an inherent part of the object’s history… but rather than hiding the break, it highlights them and sees them as making the object more beautiful for its flaws.

I think embracing this idea might be good for you. Scars, after all, are the sign that you survived. This mindset requires treating yourself with more compassion than you currently do, to acknowledge that having been shattered doesn’t mean that you can’t be fixed or that being fixed doesn’t mean being the exact same as you were before. Instead, it’s an acknowledgement of what makes you more unique, more special for the supposed ‘flaws’ – the cracks are what ultimately only serve to make it special.

Give yourself time to repair those cracks, TMU. Give yourself the compassion, the time and the space to do what you need to do to heal and recover and learn who you are now. As you do, I think you’ll find that you’ve got more to offer and that you won’t need to be afraid of not meeting the people who will see the beauty in you or who would see you as being too ‘flawed’.

Yes, that’s going to take time. But taking that time will be what frees up the resources you need to be able to embrace the opportunities when they come.

Be good to yourself, TMU. Love will be ready for you when you’re ready for it. And when you are ready, you may be a little anxious, a little apprehensive – the way everyone is – but you won’t need to be afraid.

You’ll be ok. I promise.

All will be well.

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Please send your questions to Dr. NerdLove at his website (www.doctornerdlove.com/contact); or to his email, doc@doctornerdlove.com