MHM Magazine

Issue 1 | 2025 | MENTAL HEALTH MATTERS | 29 MHM or female. It was a revelation that both liberated and terrified me. I finally had a name for what I was experiencing, but I also knew that I would face discrimination, stigma, and marginalisation. My experiences with the medical system were marred by frustration and disappointment. Weekly clinic visits became a cycle of examination, consultation, and referral, leaving me feeling vulnerable and exposed. Each appointment followed a familiar pattern: undressing, undergoing an examination, and awaiting the arrival of additional medical professionals to provide further insight. The lack of progress and understanding was not only emotionally taxing but also placed a significant financial burden on my family. My mother's growing frustration was palpable, and her concerns about the cost of these repeated visits were well-founded. Eventually, I was referred to a specialist hospital in Pietermaritzburg, where I underwent a hysterosalpingogram (HSG). This diagnostic procedure, which involves injecting a dye into the reproductive organs to visualize their structure, was a crucial step in helping my healthcare team better comprehend my unique anatomy. My second surgical experience was a moment of self-reflection. Medical professionals presented me with a decision: which gender did I wish to identify as? They suggested that it would be simpler to align my physical characteristics with those typically associated with females. I acquiesced, driven in part by my own self-identification as female and the distress caused by the loss of friendships due to my physical changes. However, this plan ultimately proved unsuccessful. Following consultations between medical professionals and my psychologist, it was determined that my genitalia was consistent with my sexual orientation as a female attracted to females. Consequently, the focus shifted to performing hypospadias repair surgery, enabling me to urinate while standing. Although the procedure yielded positive results, I soon faced a new challenge: urinary incontinence, necessitating the use of pads. Being intersex has instilled in me a unique form of trauma, manifesting as anxiety in situations where I must produce identification. The discrepancy between my ID's designation of female and my male identity fills me with apprehension, as I dread the prospect of explaining this incongruity to unfamiliar individuals or new acquaintances. Navigating social interactions has often required me to clarify my identity, as I've frequently encountered assumptions that I’m transgender or have undergone hormone injections to alter my appearance. While I acknowledge that being transgender is a valid and important aspect of human diversity, I must correct these misconceptions. My own experiences are rooted in being intersex, a distinct aspect of human identity that is often misunderstood. At times, the weight of these conversations has led me to consider simplifying my identity, if only to avoid the exhausting process of explanation. However, this wouldn’t be authentic to my experiences. The emotional toll of my journey has been substantial. I've grappled with feelings of guilt and inadequacy, particularly in relation to my parents. I've struggled to reconcile my identity with their expectations, fearing that I’d disappointed them by not conforming to traditional notions of femininity. These emotions have, at times, led me to contemplate suicide. A significant milestone in my journey toward healing and self- acceptance occurred in 2024, when I reached the age of 25. This marked the beginning of a transformative period, during which I became an active member of ‘Intersexions’, a supportive community that has played a vital role in my growth. Through collaborations with organisations such as Parents, Friends & Friends of South African Queers (PFSAQ) and Newcastle Prideful Legends (NNPL), I gained access to invaluable resources and opportunities. These platforms enabled me to share my story openly, liberating me from the emotional burden I had carried for so long. For the first time, I witnessed people embracing my differences and empathising with my challenges, fostering a sense of validation and acceptance. A particularly poignant experience took place at the KwaZulu- Natal Christian Council, where I participated in a counselling session led by Apostle Thusi. Her words of wisdom had a profound impact on my perspective: "Your being intersex will never change, regardless of any alterations to your identification documents. The key to moving forward lies in self- acceptance – embracing your true self and finding ways to navigate the complexities of life." This powerful message resonated deeply, marking a significant turning point in my journey toward self-acceptance and healing. Through my journey, I've come to realise that sharing my experiences as an intersex individual is a powerful catalyst for healing. Reflecting on my path, I wish I’d been aware earlier that obtaining a medical confirmation of my intersex status would have enabled me to update my identification documents, potentially sparing me from considerable emotional distress. As an intersex individual, I know that I’ll always face challenges and obstacles. But I also know I have the power to create change, to raise awareness and promote acceptance of intersex individuals. It's a journey that won't be easy, but it's one I'm committed to, for myself and for others struggling to find their place in a world that often seems hostile and unforgiving. My aspiration is that one day, the gender marker will be inclusive of intersex individuals, ensuring our visibility and recognition in historical records. I am committed to sharing my story, advocating for intersex awareness, and supporting my intersex peers worldwide. By doing so, I hope to contribute to a future where intersex individuals can live freely, without fear of stigma or marginalisation, and where our experiences are acknowledged and valued. References available on request. MHM | 2025 | Volume 12 | Issue 1 | Living With MHM