Not alone…

Today a friend sent me this article.

It is something I could have written myself. I feel completely represented in each point. But I’d like to point two of them.

First, microagressions.

Yes, it happens. I’ve talked about it with my friends, and some people don’t seem to understand why I feel uncomfortable when somebody points out that I must be very brave to be doing this, or that I’ve got a lot of luck because I keep my job, my friends, my family and my girlfriend.

I know that I must accept the world as it is, because doing otherwise is a perfect recipe for frustration and sadness. And in the meantime I keep the hope to help changing it a little bit. But still, it hurts to be reminded that I’m lucky, because my luck consists in not having suffered the problems lots of trans girls have to suffer. I’m not lucky because something good happened, I’m lucky because something bad didn’t.

And since those bad things that could have happened didn’t depend on me, but on others, this gives me a pretty good perspective of how life is. I am okay because the world around me gives me permission to. I am fine because I am allowed to.

No, this is not a comforting thought. I’m trying very hard to be happy, by doing lots of things, by exploring all the things I love, and by showing lots of courage. As much courage as I am capable of. And still I’m fine because now the prejudices against people like me are weaker.

And second, the transition does not fix everything.

But hell, it gives you a nice starting point.

Because of the transition, I’ve been able to start speaking about myself, instead of hiding. I’ve been able to start telling my friends how I feel, and what I like. And I’ve got lots of advice, support and love.

I’ve learnt a lot, both from talking to friends and from reading things they suggested to me. I’ve talked, talked, talked, and I’ve expressed my feelings.

I’ve been able to become emotional, to connect with people.

I’ve been able to start learning how to put my head in order. And I have found that I could focus better than I did before. I have still to learn how to cope with depression and anxiety, but right now I’m doing better than before. (Hint, having your own place to be yourself helps a lot)

And I’ve been able to perform better at my job, to start playing guitar in a regular basis and see some progress, to think about what I want to do with my life. I’m thinking about projects, about studies, about doing things.

And I’m thinking about sex and kink. Now I can picture how I want my life to be, and I’m working so that I can some day have it.

It is a huge lot of work, and sometimes I just get tired, sad, and I feel I won’t be able to do it. But I’m doing it, step by step. I just wish I would have been able to start a lot before, but I’ve started already, and I’m completing stages at full speed.

Still, it hurts a bit when people seem disappointed because I’m not as happy as I’d like to be yet. No, I am not. Because transition is not magic. It is just a starting point.

I got some relief from reading that article, mostly because I don’t have a script for this. It feels reassuring to see that somebody who is one year ahead of me in her transition feels what I feel, that my views on the world I’ve just discovered aren’t too warped. It shows me that I’m not doing it wrong, just that the world is this strange and unwelcoming place to live in. But I’m coping with it.

I can cope with it.

Some updates…

Long time, no see…

I’ve been busy these months, thinking, feeling and planning. Things are moving pretty well. I’m probably getting soon the permit for changing my legal name, and then I will get the authorisation for my surgery. So I have booked already an appointment for this.

I hope everything goes well.

I’m a bit scared about the surgery. I’ve got some quite reassuring comments from friends and doctors. They tell me that everything is going to be all right. Still I’m a bit scared of having to stay one month without my hormones, and of what comes next.

It’s like I can’t figure out how it is going to be. Sometimes I feel that, in a transition, you are doing leaps of faith. You just jump to the void, and hope not to fall, whenever you come out to someone, or when you tell at your workplace, or when you first go out as a woman. And this is like jumping in a big black hole, and hoping not to fall.

Still, I have done this so many times that I feel emotionally disconnected. I can do this, and I will do this because I’m tired of being like I am now. And because if I don’t do this I feel more or less things will remain the same. And because I want to feel my own vagina.

I hope everything goes well.