Alrighty… went public with the rest of my IRL friends and family on FB. Surprisingly, I don’t think I lost any FB friends and everyone seems ok-to-very supportive about it. Radio silence from my mother and brother though, but that’s what I figured it would be like. I know I’m probably in for a “why would you DO this to your father?” and/or “you’re the most selfish person in the world” thing from my mother. But, now that I’m out, I’m done with it. This is who I am and that’s all there is to it. Yes, I’m respectful of the transitions that they’ll have to go through to accept me… I’m willing to educate, I can be patient, but I won’t compromise my identity.
Week 22 on T… I was just looking through the videos I’ve been taking and found it neat how much my voice has deepened already.
Overall the changes thus far have been very positive. Some sort of funny: I’ve gained weight in my face but lost it in my ass and my ankles. hehe
My facial hair is thickening and growing (I actually haven’t shaved in a few days to see how it looks and kiddo wants me to grow a moustache. Heh, I keep having to say that I’m not quite there yet.)
Went to Cuba for a week, just me and kiddo, and it was a blast. Everyone was super nice and though the food was meh, the pool and the weather were juuuusst perfect. I think we probably spent 3 hours/day in the pool. And goddamn it was nice not be constantly teetering on the edge of a panic attack. The last few years during vacation with my parents, I spent the whole time trying to keep myself calm, and that in itself was stressful—especially when you throw in a young kid and a spouse you have to look after. Shaving my legs, wearing a bathing suit, putting on make-up or a dress… it was a struggle not to break down completely. The last time we went it was especially bad—one night M and I were supposed to go out for a nice supper and I only barely managed to tamp down a full-fledged panic attack (hello rum, my friend) when I had to get dressed. I had brought a really nice dress with me and I just couldn’t put it on.
Actually, you know what? I think THAT was the moment—the straw that broke the camel’s back—that made me realize that I just couldn’t do it anymore. I couldn’t be the boy in the dress any more. I’d done it long enough. I didn’t wear the dress that night and I think I only wore one more dress since then, for my cousin’s wedding last summer.
I’ve gotten the ball rolling for top surgery. I’m just waiting to see my GP so she can fill out the form. My name and gender are legally changed, and are changed almost everywhere. I should get my new medicare card this week, and I will work on getting my passport changed soon.
And now that I’m not stressing about telling my family any more… well, let me tell you: boy did I sleep well last night.
Upward and onwards.
Oh, and you know what? I’m turning 41 next week. I’d promised myself I wouldn’t have to spend the next 40 years as a woman… and looks like I did it. Go me. 🙂
