It’s always hard having to accept yourself.
If you asked me a few months ago, I would have told you that I was a happy male that didn’t question anything about himself, but things change when you start thinking.
This last month has been filled with questions, mostly from myself, regarding who I was exactly. I started by just asking if my sexuality was truly Bisexual, some dumb stuff that popped into my head thanks to some misogynistic comment I heard on work. This types of questions are usually pretty hard to answer, or straight up impossible to answer in the beginning.
Throughout those days I realized that I wasn’t happy with myself, but … What made me unhappy?, I thought it was my physique and I started counting calories trying to lose weight. That didn’t last long…
After that failed, I thought that maybe it was my voice, maybe I wanted to get better at singing since it is something that I enjoy doing on a daily basis. I started singing more and recording myself trying to catch my mistakes, with hopes of improving once I realize what was wrong. It wasn’t that either…
This few steps had me occupied for a couple of weeks, I started focusing less on college and more in what was wrong with me. Then it hit me…
I realized that the true answer was all the above, I wasn’t comfortable with myself. I didn’t want to be me, I didn’t want to be… a guy.
At that moment, I was in disbelief.
I was telling myself that I didn’t deserve to change, or call myself trans, or transition. I was being transphobic with myself.
It’s hard realizing how engrained you have your family beliefs in you, especially when they appear so comprehensive at a first glance. But the subtle speech of patriarchy is always present, sadly.
I was their son, their boy. The fact that I was Bisexual was weird enough for them, so how would they react if they knew I didn’t want to be their son anymore.
The dysphoria started happening then, with it the doubts started filling my mind.
“There are days that I feel good with myself, that is proof that I’m not trans, right?”
“I can have sex without feeling gross about my dick, a trans woman wouldn’t feel this way. I’m obviously not trans”
“Everyone loves me as a guy, I can’t betray them. There’s no way I’m trans”
I said those things to myself, trying to convince me that I didn’t want this, but I knew deep down that this wasn’t the first time.
I had these thoughts before, I even told my best friend about them, and years before as well, I remember telling my crush from back then (she was my best friend, it ended horribly).
I remembered that as a kid, I didn’t want to be a guy, a boy.
I know things shouldn’t have gender associated with them, but goddammit I grew up in a conservative household with my grandparents.
How many times was I told that I shouldn’t knit because it was for girls and that would make me a faggot.
How many times was I told that watching fucking My Little Pony and enjoying it was wrong.
How many times I… wanted to be a girl.
It makes me cry when I think about this, because I always knew. It was something I always wanted, but society kept me from it. This hatred ideology made me repress it until I couldn’t keep the facade.
That morning was the most chaotic, I woke up and greeted my dad as usual, but my voice sounded foreign. I looked in a mirror and I didn’t recognize the guy painted in the wall. In that afternoon I told my girlfriend.
She was very supportive and wanted to be with me throughout the whole process, even offered me to do my makeup when I feel ready for it. I feel terrible that I lied to her that night.
I remember saying that I didn’t know if I wanted to be a girl, and maybe I was something more close to Non-Binary… That was a huge lie.
It took talking with 3 close friends, 2 internet strangers, 2 internet friends, and way too many cigarettes, but I was finally able to say it… I want to be a woman.
The euphoria that rushed into me when I said this, even in this very moment while writing this, I can feel it. For the first time in my life I feel like myself, I’m finally being… real.
There are still lots of things to say.
There are still lots of steps to take.
There are still lots of conversations to have.
But right now, when I look in a mirror and I see myself, I don’t see a guy, or someone that I can’t recognize… I can finally see the wonderful woman that I want to be.
