It was surprising, the first time I forgot about my transition. I was out, it was sunny, and I was unaware that I had been a man, or had considered myself one. I forgot about that and was just myself, focused on whatever I was doing.
Then I snapped out of it and thought, ‘this doesn’t seem like such a big deal now.’ Because I knew it was possible to escape this uniquely awkward place, if only for a second.
But it’s still a struggle, it’s a struggle to afford electrolysis and to decide what to spend money on and what to put off. Clothes? Hair removal? Voice lessons? It’s a careful, nervy balance.
My vocal cords are wound more tightly than I am and I’m a clearance sale victim at least one day of the week. Every morning I pluck hair out of my face and carefully, lightly cover it in layers of silicone gel, foundation, and double face powder. How long can I keep doing this?
Transition has a way of sneaking up on you, always.
I’m sitting balled up with my feet on the edge of a vanity.
Is this what I really want?
It turns out that electrolysis is permanent – I hadn’t truly considered that. I always thought that the hormones would be sort of the epicenter of my transition, the point when I’d have to decide. But, let’s face it, that moment has come and gone. Still waiting on those hormones though. I hear it’s the awesomeness.
This isn’t easy, never was. Hope it will be someday, but it’s not easy right now. It’s not easy to be between genders, somewhere between somewhere. To be peerless and alone, seemingly forever. To have people look at you funny. I really hate that.
To think what I’m putting myself through – and with such enthusiasm – this has to be the right decision, right? I’m not sure if there’s any way to tell.
Technically, I’d put the odds of me being wrong at 1 in 32, a virtual certainty that I am, in fact, a woman. But there’s still a 3% chance that there’s something I just haven’t considered and I’m completely wrecking my life, for what it was worth.
I do want this, though. I do.