One dose of testosterone takes two needles to administer: one large needle to draw the thick carrying oil from its vial and one thin needle for the actual injection. For this demonstration, I removed needles from my sharps container two at a time and drew a tally mark on myself for each pair, representing one dose or one week of medication per mark.
Sharps containers are designed not to have anything retrieved from within, with edges that catch painfully on withdrawing hands if the whole appendage reaches in. By taking this unintended action for each mark, I sought to represent the burden of performance on transgender individuals: society demands lifelong medication and surgical procedures to grant people a sliver of legitimacy, and those without the means or desire to medically "transition" face scorn or disbelief.
The parts of me visible in frame are arms demonstrating action and racking up tally marks, a bound chest, and shoulder acne. For all its typical undesirability, the acne is one of my preferred traits, as shoulder acne was the first sign that my medication was doing anything over the span of several doses. By contrast, I am medically unqualified for a chest masculinization surgery at present, so the archetypical transmasculine trait of a binder both represents a conformity to the expectations of young trans men and my inability to be fully accepted.
A minute was not nearly enough to extract and count all my used needles, but I sought to demonstrate this weighing of "good trans person" points in that time. Unfair expectations are placed on people who do not bind, tuck, undergo voice training, get expensive surgeries, or lose weight to transition; people can forgo these due medical reasons, financial limitations, safety concerns, closeting, comfort, or any number of other reasons, and doing so does not make them any less transgender.
