I did it. I came out to everyone that matters. No one has cut me off or thrown me out. The process took about 6 months longer than I thought it would, but we are here, on the other side of that long tunnel. But instead of flying out of the other side, speeding my way towards a full transition, I’m maybe two steps further transitioned than I was six months ago. No momentum.
And oh boy am I tired. Long talks with good friends, debating theology with my pastor, answering questions, calming fears, it’s a lot of social energy.
Can I just stop being trans for one bloody moment? I need a breather. But no, that’s not an option, the dysphoria is not abated. So onward I press, taking the hard path, the good path, the slow path. I can be a Christian and trans. I can keep my support network and transition. I don’t have to lose my wife and kids, we can make this work.
But
it’s
so
slow
.
I’ve been transitioning as slowly as possible for 30 years, but I’m ready to drop my masc and make a mad dash to the other side. I’m ready to throw out the guy clothes, take E, get an orchi, laser my face. I know different people experience womanhood differently, but I feel like I haven’t gotten to experience it all, despite leaning hard on that GNC wall for all my masc years. And so I don’t ask people to call me Amber, she/her, because I don’t feel like I deserve it. Once I’m over there, then I’ll ask. Once I malefail. But this mindset is holding me back. Insisting on maintaining all my relationships and support network is holding me back. My wife working her way through her own theology and gender issues is holding me back. And I can’t lose those, so I limp along, dragging the shattered remains of my masc alongside me.
I thought for sure that putting myself out there would free me to go be myself, that I would be zooming, but instead I’m still plodding along, just now with extra scrutiny.
Last night I dreamed I was a kid, and instead of hiding and building a masc, I was demanding to be myself. Little dream me was so sure of herself, so ready to fight everyone who would tell her she couldn’t be who she really was. I could use her energy right now, and her willingness to fight for herself.
Speaking from experience, this isn’t how being a trans kid works. I wish it was. The trans kid experience is more like this: you have absolutely no control over your body or your life, you have no money, no experience, and nowhere to go. All that energy gets sucked out of you as you realize there is absolutely nothing you can do as dysphoria eats you alive. If you don’t have support from your family you are completely screwed until you become an adult. This isn’t to say transitioning early in life isn’t great, but to say that it’s not all sunshine and rainbows. Becoming an adult morphs these things into problems you can actually control (at least somewhat).
can confirm, especially the eating me alive part. plus i have controlling parents to the point where i have had to buy HRT illegally and am not even able to take it until the next parent-controlled blood test is done. luckily i wont have another one of those again since ill be turning 18 before that. also im kiiind of worrying about how i will hide how much money i spent on the HRT (which i had to do using shady gift-card-to-crypto exchanges because my bank accounts are monitored :| )
Yeah that was my experience, crying myself to sleep as I could feel the testosterone poisoning my body. Not having the words to say what’s going on. Not knowing what would happen even if I could figure out what to say, but knowing it wouldn’t be good.
Little dream Amber was aspirational, though.
The feeling of dying a little inside when your voice changes and everyone wants to compliment it 😐