inevitability isn’t an emotion

I don’t know where to begin.

My closest confidants separately and independently declared that no one is going to question my womanhood and that I need to snap out of this nervous funk I seem to be experiencing.  Dana they say, the war is over, wake up…  I do my best to absorb this.

As I meditate on the idea that I am in fact a woman, legally, socially, professionally, physically, and so on, I am engulfed by indescribable confusion.  While I am comfortable with myself in ways I had never known, I am in shock.

 

I have a good idea of how to conduct myself, what I’m doing and where my life is headed, but that’s all.

I know who I am.  I know what happened to me, but I don’t know why it did in a very basic sense.

 

I go out and I’m generally happy.  I look in the mirror and I am relieved, then disbelieving.

My body takes up less space.  I seem to breathe less air.  My eyes are expressive and it haunts me.  I appear to feel more than I can actually acknowledge, more than I will let myself feel.  It’s unapproachable.

But I’m told this is real, that being a woman comes with an inner life that’s different and which I might find difficult to accept.

 

I’m only beginning to sense what I’ve gotten myself into, but it’s not like I had a choice.  I feel like my transition was inevitable, that it would have happened somehow.  This is how it feels on the other side of the gender binary; there was no why, my gender was inevitable.

 

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what it’s like

I was getting ready this morning and there was an eyelash hanging from my eye.  I picked it up and held it for a moment.  What do I wish for?  Nothing came to mind, so I dropped it.  I must be happy, or at least satisfied.

 

I woke up this morning and noticed my skinny legs and the hair receding from my hands.  I noticed my vaguely unfamiliar face, I instinctively checked my earrings as soon as I woke.  The left one was bleeding a little the other night.  They’re new and they’re stuck.  I tried to unscrew the left one with a set of pliers.  No luck.  No backsliding.

I woke up and noticed that I’m different and I wondered why.  A thought bubble with just a “?”  No words, but why are my legs so hairy – It makes no sense.  I feel blessed and forgotten at the same time, “here take this.”

 

I need to pick a surgery soon, to find a regenerative medicine option, to figure out my life.  I wish my life came without assembly.  It’s like getting an oldschool dollhouse-in-a-box for christmas, what I always wanted, but if I got it I would have been disappointed with my familiarity with glue.

 

is this ‘monday’

Walking home at dawn after the graveyard shift at some university – with my headphones blasting, carrying my laptop like a schoolbook – is probably not the smartest, safest, or most feminine thing to be doing.  But I’m not there *yet*

Whatever.  I’m exhausted.  I did not think it was possible to be this exhausted.  But it doesn’t matter, I’m excited.  Stuff is getting done and I’m at peace with myself.

 

Strangely, I’m not depressed.  I haven’t been depressed in a month.  That shatters every record, ever.

I feel like I’m going somewhere; being myself.  Even though it’s only apparent to myself, that’s good enough for me.

 

Then my friend from college called me back, the one I told I was transgender and regretted.  He called me!  Everything is completely cool.  And I am so happy about that.