Anger Is An Energy

Courtesy Mark Setjo

Anger Is An Energy

The first time I heard that line I was still too young to really understand what it meant, but Johnny Lydon (former singer of The Sex Pistols) was belting it out in the 80's classic "Rise" (by PIL) and that driving rhythm propelling the song forward definately had its appeal.

In the meantime (I was 11 years old) I was starting to notice physical changes; my body was starting to change in ways I didn’t want it to change, and it freaked me out. I couldn’t understand how girls my age seemed to be fine with it. I listened while they talked about shopping with their mothers for bras with some degree of excitement. Some talked about their periods too, and I couldn’t help but be horrified by it. I absolutely hated periods and I wanted a flat chest. So, somehow, despite going through something similar, I couldn’t relate to any of them. Until about a decade ago I didn’t know that what I suffered from was gender dysphoria.

I found that by controlling my weight I was able to keep my curves and chest in check… Until the day I saw a school photo of myself where my head appeared too big for my body. At that moment I realized it wasn’t a good look for me and I let go of some of that control. Instead, I grew frustrated with myself and I got angry. The older I got, the angrier I became. Having said that, I also need to add that I’m not the kind of person to take out their anger on other people. While I tried to contain it as best as I could, the anger was mainly aimed at myself. There were a couple of ways that helped me cope with the frustration and anger for almost two decades: disconnecting the body and the mind and being active. Despite disliking my body, one of my favourite classes in school was PE class. I enjoyed all kinds of sports and I was quite good at most of them, too.

When I was younger I felt the need to prove myself when it came to sports, especially when there were boys around. I didn’t do it to get their attention (which was the last thing on my mind), but more as some kind of personal validation: I was just as good as the boys. I also dabbled in some martial arts. I briefly tried my hand at karate (no pun intended), and my anger gave me an advantage. When directed right, I had a little extra oomph that had the desired results. The instructor saw my potential and tried to convince me to compete. Funnily enough that wasn’t what I wanted; I also loved drawing and painting and whatnot in art class (another favourite class of mine), and I didn’t want to injure or break my hand.

Before I started testosterone, I, of course, read up on the effects. It’s basically a second puberty, but since the first one had been awful, I hadn’t been paying as much attention as perhaps I should have. One of the possible side effects was a short fuse. That was the last thing I wanted; to become an even angrier person. I wanted to lose weight too, because I’m only 5’2” (157 cm) and was at my heaviest - and testosterone increases your appetite.

I upped my visits to the gym to three times a week, changed my diet a bit, and started that part of the journey. Shortly after starting my new gym routine I read about introductory classes of a martial art I’d never heard before: Escrima. My brother and I decided to check it out. We were invited to join in. I found that the group was overall friendly and welcoming, and - just as important - there were no machos.

Martial arts, in addition to the other sports, was a great and fun way to keep fit and an excellent way to channel my anger. Think about it: sparring is a controlled way of fighting. I may be the smallest among the students, but for the longest time my anger gave me an advantage. I was able to keep going just a tad longer than normal.

When I started my testosterone shots I also noticed I slowly gained some physical strength, but something else started happening, too. Something I hadn’t anticipated on. While my muscle mass increased and my voice dropped, I started to relax. My body was a work in progress, but it didn’t feel as alien as it did before I started hormones. And guess what? I’m no longer angry.