See, this happens every time I start blogging again. Frickin’ life, man. I’m still here. Ups and downs as my body gets used to injected hormones, but that’s to be expected and I have an amazing support system in place. I’ve been putting some energy into the Center near me, stepping up to lead things and whatnot, might have a fairly important project brewing out of that. And, I’ve been working on some writing for a literary magazine that asked me to submit. All in all, despite some hyper-emotional outbursts, things are good.
I feel like I’m settling in to this life. My life. The life I was supposed to have. Sometimes I think of all the things I missed out on, living that life that wasn’t mine, and it makes me sad. Like prom. I went to proms; I had decent times. I certainly didn’t “hook up” after any of them, but I’m still friends with a lot of those women and it’s really nice to have those shared memories. But I feel like they should be entirely different memories. I should get to go dress shopping, and have someone buy me a corsage, and walk around with my heels in my hand because they’re way higher than what I’m used to. I proposed we throw a prom at the Center. It seemed well received, so we’ll see how that unfolds. I know who I’m gonna ask 😉
The other thing that gets me is “passing”. I want to represent the community and stand up for trans people and help normalize trans-ness. I do. But I want to do it when it’s safe and I’m strong enough to. I don’t want to do it every time I need to run to the store. I don’t want to do it in the grungy gas station where I have to go inside to pay. I don’t want to do it every time I need to use a public restroom.
People tell me I pass, and while I see a difference in my appearance, I don’t think I do completely. I still see too much of old me in that face. I’ve changed my hairstyle, my mannerisms have just sort of changed almost on their own. But I feel like everyone “can tell”. And 75% of the time I ignore it and don’t pay attention. But that other 25% is HARD, because I feel like I look like an impostor, and a fraud. I do OK when I’m with other people- cis or trans- but when I have to run out on my own, that doubt creeps in. I guess it will fade with time. I hope it does, anyway, because it kind of sucks