I’m at a loss. What I’ve experienced was so harrowing, so stressful and painful and seemingly impossible. And now it’s quiet, I’m passing. I’m this tense, awkward, doofy-looking woman whose clothing is ill-fitting and spectacularly out of season… but I’m not perceived as transgender. I look like what I’ve been through.
No one expects much of me, except that I make eye contact with them. It’s an interesting expectation, like I need to be scrutable at all times, present, and at whosoever’s disposal. It’s subtle, subtle, subtle, and it took me weeks to notice, but it’s like I’m under this warm spotlight.
I don’t know what I was thinking, this being a woman and all. It’s just something I had to do, and now it happened. Now I have to deal with it. But it’s wonderful and beautiful, and so, so real. The world is just so real, and almost mine. I can’t understand it.