When I blog here about my personal life or do any sort of writing, it usually comes as a way of working through my difficulties, talking about depression or stress.
I started the process of socially transitioning from female to male (not male male, but my version of male) a few weeks ago, and I’ve felt no real urge to blog about it, because, well, it’s been great. I haven’t felt this happy in a long time. Whatever happens, just being honest with the way I have been feeling, with the world, has been the healthiest thing I could do for my mental health.
I noticed the other day, walking down the street, how deeply I was breathing, for the first time in a long time. For the past months my breathing had been shallow and restricted, with chest pains.
I haven’t had any issues with anyone referring to me as he / him, who I’ve asked to. Slip-ups, yes, but no issues.
At the moment I’m kind of overwhelmed and just in awe of the people in this world that I’m surrounded by, my friends, acquaintances. And the best part is, it is all completely normal. Everything is normal, nothing has changed.
I really want to start taking testosterone and am trying to get referred to a clinic for that. This is something I’ve been thinking about for a good couple of years. Watching YouTube videos and crying a lot. Wishing I could do it.
I used to be worried that I would never pass as male, even with T, my huge hips being my main concern. And I just came to the realisation, with the help of chatting to other trans people, that it doesn’t matter. Yes, I would like to be read as male by strangers, develop a deep voice, change facial shape, become more masculine-appearing. But no, I don’t care if someone knows I’m trans. Everyone who already knows me, knows I’m trans.
I still actually see myself as genderqueer.
I was beating myself up for so long, wondering if this was the right decision for me, worrying if I would regret it. But I have spent so many nights in tears, I just had to do something about it. Or I would have gone mad. I was going mad.
I also felt like a fraud, because I’m not your typical, as portrayed in the media, trans narrative. I was happy being female up until a few years ago. I did not have dysphoria as a child growing up. I’ve had to overcome this worry, and stop interrogating myself, and just be confident that the past two or three years of persistently feeling this way is enough. That my feelings now are valid.
The reason I’m writing (I suppose), wait for it, the anxiety about something. Well here it is, I’ve told everyone, people in work. I’m a nurse, the patients call me “she” which is fine, I’m there for them, they’re scared of the dentist, I’m happy to not be confusing anyone. If I grow some stubble I’m sure this will change.
I haven’t told my parents. I’m scared. This is the only part that scares me. They live abroad. I can’t tell them in person, I won’t see them until April. I don’t want to say it in an email. Maybe Facetime. I spoke to my mum the other day, I couldn’t do it. I don’t know what to do. And I feel bad, having told everyone else. I know my parents, and I imagine they’re going to tell me I’m confused, not to do it. I know it’s not fair, either, I’ve had two years to get used to this myself. And it wasn’t easy, even for me. I want to give them as much time as possible to get used to the idea before I start medically transitioning. I don’t have any bright ideas of how to go about doing this, it’s going to have to be a blurt it out and be ready to explain myself, and be ready for my mum to cry sort of situation. Because she will cry. And I hate being the person to make my mum cry.