Such an upheaval is always going to be stressful but I expected being trans to make it even more complicated. Travel, especially by air, always has the potential for unexpected physical contact. And I made sure to fly via anywhere but Dubai. The incriminating evidence would have been the testosterone I was carrying, for which I still had to obtain an Australian import certificate.
On arrival at Sydney I prepared to explain my certificate to border control. But I was simply waved through after ticking the right box on a form. None of the trans-related aggravation I anticipated in moving 10, miles away has really transpired.
It helped that I could turn to a sprawling online community for advice. Was I likely to encounter any hostility? Is the type of T that I inject licensed in Australia?
While the practicalities have been a doddle, I am still occasionally homesick for LGBT London — the places I could go to feel safe and unquestioned.
I was riding a Sydney harbour ferry the other day when I realised that I felt like a queer peg in an ostensibly very straight world. Being queer — how I broadly describe my gender and sexuality — is great, but it can be isolating, especially in a new place. I knew those places in London. I hope they exist in Sydney.
