When all else fails there’s always the date. No clever title, no great insight, just some insight from looking back over the past 28 months I’ve been living full time. Three years on hrt in October. I past my four year anniversary of coming out this past April.
We work very hard to transition, some harder than others. Some work hard because living as a woman doesn’t come very naturally, and all those physical issues from walking to talking are hard. Yet perhaps mentally they’re good to go.
Others have no trouble physically or mentally but have a lot of trouble in their lives, losing home, or family, or friends or employment.
Whatever the path, the shining goal is often described as finding one’s true self or living one’s truth. I would not argue that there is a big element of that for me. I no longer pretend to things I am not. I am not writing to say that is false.
I do find myself surprised though. I somehow suspected that after all was said and done, and all the cobwebs were swept out leaving a clean and orderly mind behind that I’d still have a bit of that boy and man in random corners. Maybe I thought some of the things I did and even still would like to do but for situational issues meant I had some male personality in there.
The truth? There’s no boy, there’s no man, there’s only a girl who’s quickly growing up and readjusting. One who looks at living 54 years as a man with a degree of both wonder and bafflement.
Why am I surprised? Because I do know some trans women and they differ a lot. Some are like me, they were always women, some are on a spectrum and were more female than male and weren’t comfortable living as men. I’m not assigning values or labels. This is all in the service of suggesting a range.
I keep thinking about reactions I had in the past as things happen now and realize that maybe that girl really wasn’t buried very far at all.
So now I laugh with my girlfriends at how men don’t understand what we’re saying. How can we say it any clearer?