I assure you though, once you are able to get yourself access to resources that help you on your path to forming yourself, you’ll love even the ugly parts of your transition. You’ll be so proud of hearing your new name or the correct pronouns you won’t even notice the little snags that you think will stop you from passing. Just take your time, and tackle each obstacle one on one, and you’ll get there. – Luke Hudson
We are all transitioning always. For most, changes of appearance and mentality can be more subtle and nuanced, but at the heart of it, the difference between dying your hair a different colour and gender transition lies in other people’s fixations.
The most astounding and painful things can happen almost simultaneously when you’re trans. Someone writes a few words of praise that bring out a rare and searing blush… and then a heartbeat later, the tears come unbidden, earnest and devastating.
It’s because, you know, no matter how much they appeal to you, being trans is one of the hardest hurdles to overcome.
Ouch, this hits close to home.
Sometimes I laugh at myself these days. I’m such a teenage boy. But that’s good. It feels good. If I’m not a teenage boy first, how can I be a grown man later?
Thanks to Amazon Video finally coming to Canada, I’m finally watching Transparent.
I’m near tears. Heh
Fucking hell… coming out. Coming out coming out coming out… never the right time…
Exactly this except for one part. I’ve been researching transitioning since before the internet, waaay back when I came across something in a medical journal/book about sex reassignment surgery. Even after the internet gave me more info, the surgery/hormones just seemed so imperfect that it was the motivation for me to try to live with the body I was given. I’d never have a fully functioning cock. I’d never be 5’10 (which is how tall my mind thinks I am). I’d never be able to have XY chromosomes. I’d always be in the wrong body, die in the wrong body, be buried in the wrong body.
Like the OP, pregnancy and the time after—eight months of nursing my kiddo—made me feel the most aligned with my body I ever have. I could hack it. Had I finally beat the dysphoria? But no… it was just the hormones. The minute those petered out, the dysphoria came back with a vengeance, and I knew it was time to stop fighting it. My female body had served its purpose to have a kid, and now I was free…
…but not really. It’s been years now, and I’ve only told a handful of people. I have the green light for sexual confirmation surgery… but still, I stall. I feel I will lose my extended family. I’ve already lost my partner because he isn’t gay and isn’t interested in trying to make it work. But that’s fine – we remain friends. My kid is so proud that she and I are “girls” that every time I try to start the conversation about who I really am, I chicken out because I don’t want to disappoint her.
It’ll work out. I know it will. I just have to stay the course.
