So, after waking up this morning and putting on my binder, as I do every morning and have done every day for the past five years literally without fail, I had a little thinking time to myself.
I've been working through my gender identity for a good, good long time now. I guess I never felt "trapped in the wrong body", like a lot of trans guys, but I also didn't know trans was an option. I assumed that, by transitioning, I would be relegated to the outskirts of society. I would have to give up everything I cared about and loved and pretty much change my life entirely. I figured no one would accept me.
When I was in the 7th grade, I found a livejournal (my generation's tumblr, apparently) and I remember poring over it for hours and hours. These were kids, not much older than me, and they were boys. They were born girls, and now were boys. I couldn't place my finger on what I felt, but I did spend some time there.
In Highschool, I fantasized about running away to the middle of nowhere, cutting off contact with everyone I knew, and transitioning. My friend, Brianna, who is a wonderful human being said to me one day out of the blue, "Hey, Rosie, when you get a sex change, will you still talk to me?" It was literally like she had read my mind. I didn't realize I was so obvious.
College came around and as soon as I was given access to the means and possibilities, I came out as trans. I bought my first binder, cut my hair short, started looking at names. I fluctuated for those four years, having days where if i I didn't transition RIGHT AWAY I didn't know how I could go on, and other days when people brought up, I laughed it off because it wasn't how I felt that day. I still don't know if I feel "male", or as a boy. Some days I do, some days I'm content to feel neutral. But even my neutral state wants facial hair, a deeper voice, secondary characteristics. I know if I don't at least try, I will regret not doing this forever. That much I know is sure.
I graduated college, moved into a real world situation, and suddenly had time to think a lot more about me. Both my parents passed away over the past two years (My dad in July of 2009, my mom in April 2010). I hate to say this, but it was an impetus for me. I wasn't afraid of their approval. For the first time in my life, I felt I was only accountable to me and me alone. So one night, almost on a whim, I said let's do it. Let's go by Tuck.
And people called me Tuck, I used male pronouns, I felt at ease. I wondered what I had ever worried about. As soon as I did this, everything fell into place. I guess I just woke up one morning and was ready to do it. So I did therapy, (I had planned ahead and my regular therapist was also qualified to write me my letter), I got my letter, I called the doctor and I crossed all my t's and dotted all the i's. I didn't realize how much I wanted this until suddenly doing everything to get my first shot seemed as easy as pie. Getting my physical, getting blood drawn, making phone calls, working things out with insurance, all things I usually hate, I did with no problems. The guy I've been working with at Fenway even commented on how hard I've been working for this. He told me he was glad to make it happen for me.
So here we are. I still don't know how I identify. I don't know if "trans" is the right for me, or if I'm "genderqueer" or anything else. I kind of stopped caring.
It's been a long time coming, this transition. I guess I just wanted to get that out there.
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