It is so interesting to me the people who built normal lives with this still in the back of their minds, I just totally shut down but I suppose there are different types of people and everyone’s story is different. :)
I never really had a great frame of reference for what transitioning was or what it entailed and didn’t have a vocabulary to really describe how I was feeling. The only thing I really know of it was some overly fetishized view of it from my shitty transphobic sibling who showed me porn of trans women when I was like 5. So I mostly just resigned myself to living out the rest of my life according to the expectations I felt I had to abide by. I’ve luckily always been incredibly introspective though so I never really let that sense of unease go and became more aware of its roots as I gained more understanding of transitioning.
Yes OMG, I already have some anxiety and now I feel like I have this FOMO too since I spent so much time rotting, but I am so bad at making decisions. I still don’t know what to do with my life haha.
Yeah this has been really hard for me to grapple with recently. I mostly have my main dysphorias over my physical being in a…manageable…state. Most of the time I feel really cute and get gendered correctly, or at least not misgendered as much. But dysphorias and grief regarding experiences I’ll never have, or social cues I don’t understand have gotten much louder. Anytime I put my hair in a ponytail and it takes me longer than I want because I haven’t developed the muscle memory from decades of having to deal with long hair are more frustrating. Or feeling like I’m starting from scratch learning things that my cis-girlfriends have known since they were little. Or not being able to commiserate on how shitty women are treated because my previous male privelage shielded me from that. I think this grief and feeling a longing to make up for lost time is an underrepresented aspect of transitioning at this stage of life. But overall I am so so so so grateful that I have given myself the gift of the rest of my life. There is no making up for lost time but rather making the best of what’s left to come.







Honestly I let spite take over when I get like that. There’s too many people on my list of obituaries I need to see before I die. And I’m not going to let a world that doesn’t want me dictate what I do with my life. I don’t have hope that I can fully reclaim the life I deserved to live. I don’t have hope that I will fully recover from the traumas I’ve faced, or that some sort of justice will befall the ones who have wronged me or stolen parts of me.
But I do have hope that by still persisting, even if fueled by nothing other than spite, maybe my life can be the inspiration for another trans person to also persist. Maybe even saving them from some of the struggles I’ve encountered.
And if I can ruin some transphobes day just by existing, well that’s just a bonus.