In the last 6 to 8 weeks, I have developed really good self esteem.

Never in my entire life did I think I would ever have this feeling. I was sure that every time I looked in a mirror, I would see all the things that are ‘wrong’ with my face and ‘wrong’ with my body, because that was how I always saw my reflection. I had even, cursorily, considered surgery to possibly correct a few things.

Granted, things had gotten better with my body feminization from hormones. I was really loving my body more than I ever had before. I think developing that definitely helped with this overall feeling. Of course, there’s still one thing I need to correct with that, but I know that will happen.

The main part of this high self esteem is coming from my face. I am simply not seeing my past at all in the mirror. None of my features look particularly masculine to me anymore. Yes, hormones have affected my face some, but I don’t think to the degree that I am seeing. I think this is just as much mental as it is physical.

When I have low self esteem, all the little things stand out as ‘wrong’ or ‘manly’ or ‘ugly’ etc… That’s not happening anymore. Instead, I’m seeing all the little things that stand out as ‘right’ or ‘womanly’ or ‘pretty’ and they are overriding the negative view.

I keep mentioning to the people that I’ve talked about this with, that it is such a bizarre feeling. I’ve cried several times just walking in to the bathroom because the image in the mirror, to me, looks 100% acceptable and beautiful to me.

The opposite of dysphoria is euphoria. I do feel kind of euphoric. The only thing that has caused me any dysphoria lately has been shaving, and winding up with razor burn on my neck. It’s just weird I tell you. There’s no reason for me to have developed this feeling, other than from any actual changes that have occurred from hormones.

I’ve always had a confidence about myself since self-acceptance. This makes that confidence take a bit less effort to maintain. I’m glad for it, and to those that I keep mentioning this to, I’m sorry. I just need time to adapt I guess.

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My blood clot treatment is over. It was over August 7th. I could have gone back on estrogen at that time. Instead I decided to get a tattoo and some more piercings. Things that I wanted for me. Things that I can’t really do while on blood thinners (the piercings maybe, but I wanted to be safe).

I’m very glad I got the tattoo and the piercings. They have helped my mood immensely. I look down at my tattoo (even in its healing phase) and am filled with senses of determination, strength, and joy. It will always be a beacon to me, keeping me going.

There’s a lot of symbolism in the image. The overall image is that of a dragon – an intelligent, beautiful and strong creature. Things I aspire to be. The design is abstract, with both the colours and the line art of the dragon itself. This was important to me for this piece, as it signifies the ways in which I think. The lines are graceful, something else I try to be.

The semi-colon has become a significant symbol for suicide survivors. In literary terms it allows an author to continue a sentence, when he could have ended it. As you readers know, I attempted suicide some 22 years ago, and I survive 3 people in my life (including my best friend) succumbing to suicide. The beautiful tail of the dragon points to the spot where I held my box cutter, just barely breaking my skin, for half an hour, as I cried kneeling on the floor.

The piercings don’t have as much meaning to me. I just have wanted them for a long time. And I love the earrings I got…

I thought I was doing well. In many ways I am. In many ways I’m not.

A few bad/sad things have happened over the last couple weeks, and I’ve not been handling them well at all. I’ve been hurting quite a bit. Crying still comes really easy, but it’s not helping like it did. I’m not able to resolve anything, and I just circle around the feelings. My frustration builds really fast again, and I wound up punching Sunday night.

This is something I’m not supposed to do on blood thinners. I bruised 2 knuckles pretty bad. One of the hardest punches I’ve ever thrown at a lamppost. I couldn’t close my hand for a bit after. I’ve been trying not to beat myself up over doing this. It happened. I’m not proud of it, but I shouldn’t be ashamed of it either.

My emotional landscape is completely foreign to me right now. I’m not how I was before hormones, and definitely not like how I was on hormones. It’s some twisted set of both paradigms clashing together. And I really don’t know how to cope with anything. The thing that’s worked best is a particular friend that’s really come through for me twice with a walk along the water and conversation.

Other friends have been helpful too, very helpful. But this friend has a way of slowly changing the conversation and before I know it I’m smiling and laughing. But not so fast, that I don’t have time to talk out my problems. It works very well. It’s not a fix, but it’s a good stop gap that I will take any time I can get it.

The plus side of all this is that I’m not spiraling. I circle, but I’m not piling shit on myself trying to make myself worse. So, that’s good. I just want to go back to feeling like ‘me’. I want the comfort of emotions that I’m used to, and that were finally working properly.

I have about another 2-3 weeks without my lovely estrogen. This is now entirely my doing though. I could be back on hormones right now. I am getting my tattoo and my extra ear piercings before going back on blood thinners (and thusly, estrogen).

I will also be talking to my endocrinologist about alternate androgen blockers. What I’m taking now is not suppressing testosterone at all. Either I get something different, or I get an orchiectomy before my surgery.

This period of time off of hormones has definitely prepared me for my surgery where I’ll be off them for 3 weeks. That will be a walk in the park compared to what I’ve experienced with my blood clots. I look forward to the pain of healing, the nausea I’ll feel from the extent of the surgery. It will be nothing compared to these last 3 months.

– Jessica

These are photos of me since I stopped trying to look cisgender. My everyday look more or less.

Enjoy.

I went for a kidney ultrasound last week. A week before, when thinking about the appointment, I mulled over informing them I was trans before the test. Then I had 2 thoughts. First, it’s my kidneys, nothing much up there that is different for an XY vs an XX human. Second, they’ll obviously know I’m trans.

At my ultrasound, the tech informed me he was doing a bladder check too. So, I slipped my skirt a bit lower, lifted my shirt up, and he started. Pretty quickly he developed a confused look on his face. Then it seemed he was trying to find something – pressing harder, changing the area of search, etc… I really had to pee, and this was not helping as he was pressing all over my bladder.

He looks down at me and asks, “have you had any surgeries in this area?”

So, again, thinking he knows I’m trans, is asking if I’d had the vaginoplasty. I guess because things shift a bit during that surgery. So, I say, “no, no surgeries.”

He continues to examine me, looking more worried now than confused. Then it seems he finds something, and stops, and goes to my chart. Looks back at me, and looks at the chart, and says, “ermm… your chart says female….”

It wasn’t phrased as a question, but I could tell it was a question. I realized he had found my testicle in the inguinal canal. “Oh! I’m transgender,” I say, as a bit of relief comes over his face.

He was worried I was a ciswoman with no womb, ovaries, etc… and didn’t know how to deal with that, because he can’t disclose anything diagnostic. Then when he found a testicle, things started to become clearer.

It’s very difficult for transwomen to deal with the medical community. We ARE women, but we often have physically XY bodies. We don’t want to always be bringing it up because a lot of the time it’s unnecessary, yet in some instances it is helpful for the person we’re dealing with to know.

What I learned from this, is that I actually pass. Well enough to confuse a medical professional, anyway. I even had talked with him a bit before starting, and he still didn’t clue in.

At first, I was quite happy about this. It leads to being privileged. Something I gave up with transition. To regain some of that felt good. For a little bit. Then, as I thought more and more about it, I started to really hate that it had made me feel good.

We shouldn’t HAVE to pass ourselves off as ciswomen. We should just get to be ourselves and seen and interacted with accordingly. Why do ciswomen have to be the standard for what a ‘woman’ is supposed to look like, act, talk, etc…? (I’m not blaming ciswomen, definitely not)

I see each and every transwoman as a woman. No matter where they are in transition, or even if they are transitioning or not. None of that matters to how I see them. This of course goes the same for nonbinary identified people as well, and transmen. Granted, in order to see people as they want to be seen, communication is sometimes necessary. And is that such a bad thing? It’s not that hard to talk to someone without gendering them.

I’ve decided to stop trying to adhere to a cis-normative look. I’m going to go out as me. A woman. A woman who happens to be transgender, and has a receded hairline, and thinner hair on top. If I wear a hat, headscarf, or wig it will be because I want to! I already do this with every other aspect of myself.

I may cause myself dysphoria. I may get negative feedback. This may be damaging to my emotional state. On the other hand, this may be a great thing. I’ve never wanted to hide who I am since transition. I’m proudly transgender. This will be interesting. My life is always interesting.

Me myself and my hair (and a headscarf)

I think it was fitting that today was the day this happened. I’ve been growing my hair since January. To finally go out with nothing artificial, and feel I’m presenting the way I really want to, is a very fulfilling thing.

Exactly one year ago today, I accepted that I was in fact Jessica. The day of December 8th, 2014 will forever be ingrained in my memory. More important than any other date. I accepted that she was not a small part of me, that I indulged every now and then. I accepted that I had buried her deep inside, and hurt her prolifically. I accepted that I needed to change. I accepted that I needed to be true to myself.

I threw away all my fears and doubts that I had been clinging to. Fears and doubts that had allowed me to deny who I really am. Losing those fears allowed me to finally open myself up. Discover who I really am – a process I’m still working on.

It has been quite the year for me. It went by so fast, and yet certain things seemed (and still do seem) to take forever. I’m essentially at a point, where I am fully me. Yes, there are some physical things to fix yet in the next year, but for all intents and purposes, I feel realized.

Life feels natural to me now. A feeling I never knew about until recently. Before transition, I was always making sure no one saw any outward sign of Jessica, not a natural way to live. Constantly guarded against slipping up, saying the wrong thing, like ‘Oooh, that’s pretty!’ Then in the early part of transition, it was better, but I was still worrying about how I was presenting, just in a different way. Yes, most of the time I had confidence, but it wasn’t the same as now.

Now there really is no effort in being me, I just am. I’m comfortable in my skin. I have bad days, I get misgendered. But the bad doesn’t last as long. The misgendering bothers me a bit, and then it goes away. I see myself as a fairly attractive woman. I’ve kind of accepted that I will get called sir occasionally. I just can’t see why. Maybe I’m deluding myself, but I’d rather delude myself this way, than the way I’d done it for 34+ years.

I am so thankful for all my friends and family that have supported me through this process. It is a very remarkable thing how many of you are there for me. Also remarkable is how many have joined after I started this journey. When I came out I had about 187 people on my friend list on FaceBook. I lost 2 acquaintances in the process. I now have 256 friends with only a few of those being very peripheral acquaintances.

I had zero connection to anyone in the trans community when I started this journey, and I really appreciate the friends that I now have, that share this road. To have people that I can talk to, that really understand what the hell I’m talking about it, is invaluable. And probably helped me from going completely insane, as well. You are some of my closest friends now.

In this last year I have changed a lot. Some of the changes are from throwing away my fears and doubts. Some are from hormones. Some are from life experiences. Some are from new people in my life. Some are from people that have always been there. I am no longer the shy quiet person hiding in the corner. I still lack certain social skills that I didn’t learn growing up, but I’m getting better. I’m predominately extroverted, not an introvert like I had thought my entire life. I thrive on being around people and being social.

I have learned a lot about my likes and dislikes, and how wrong and skewed they were before starting transition. Most of my likes and dislikes were based on my filters and how I thought I needed to present myself to pass as a guy. With those gone, my world opened up.

My life has complexities in it now that I never imagined even a year ago. I wind up saying this a lot, but, life really is interesting now. I’m constantly looking for new experiences, and I keep finding them. I’m not sure I’ll ever run out – and I don’t want to.

Thanks to everyone in my life, everyone that reads this blog, and everyone in the LGBTQQIP2SAA (look it up if you want to know). I love you all.

– Jessica Jaclyn Hanna Reimer

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Quite a few posts ago, I touched on my sexuality ever so slightly, and mostly just to say Teresa was not comfortable with me posting about it. That has changed, and I have carte blanche to go ahead and write about how I experience sex. I will not talk about what we as a couple do or did. That, hopefully, will come later. This will just be about me, and from my perspective.

I think that a lot of women going through transition would like to know how others have their sexuality change or not change, and maybe what they can expect. I do not think I’m a stereotypical case, but some of what I’ve gone through may be relevant to someone else. Or it may just be fun to read about what I’m like sexually.

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Nipples. These are very prominent in my life now. My nipples have always been fairly sensitive. Even a few years ago, I got really close to orgasming solely from nipple play. Oh, so close. When I started taking estrogen, their sensitivity went through the roof. I can be stopped mid sentence, unable to continue talking, with the merest brush of a finger tip. It’s infuriatingly pleasurable.

With this new found sensitivity, I decided I wanted to finally achieve that mysterious, mythical body orgasm, with zero genital stimulation. After trying for a couple months I was finally able to achieve a completely non-genital orgasm. And it, quite literally, shook me to my core. It took about an hour to get there, with many periods of shuddering, convulsing, whimpering, and moaning along the way. I call these periods mini-o’s. They are extremely enjoyable, and even if I don’t reach full orgasm, I don’t feel I’ve missed out on anything.

But this time, after about 15 of these mini-o’s I got to that edge, and went over it. Every nerve in my body was firing and it felt like electricity was pulsing from my core outward every few milliseconds. Like someone was dragging an electrified net all over my skin, wave after wave it was washing over me. This lasted for a few minutes, but it felt like hours. Time really had no meaning.

After the waves stopped, and the nerves settled down, I was in a different place in my head. I tried to open my eyes but I couldn’t. I couldn’t speak either. Every now and then, a shudder or convulsion would run through me. And it was divine. I felt like I was floating. I felt like the universe had disappeared and there was only me, but it was only an internal me, there was no external anything.

When I finally came out of that, I opened my eyes and tried to assess my body and what happened. I didn’t ejaculate, I know I didn’t, but there was clear liquid that had come from me. That wasn’t entirely new, as this had been happening during arousal for a while. Essentially I was ‘getting wet’ with the anatomy I have. But there seemed to be more of it this time. I tried to recollect everything that had led to that explosion of sensation. It was almost all just pure nipple play. Fingernails, lips, tongue. The odd bit of hands roaming the body, but that seemed so secondary.

Since then, I have had 7 of these orgasms. So, almost averaging 1 a month. Considering I don’t have a lot of sex (sex drive is non-existent) that’s not bad.

Sex Drive. Pretty much at zero. Sometimes I can get into things if they’re happening, but it’s not something I’m going to initiate right now. It’s just not on my radar. I don’t even get sad about it, because I’m not missing the desire. It’s a very weird feeling, or maybe more accurately a non-feeling. My testosterone level at last check was 0.4 nmol/L which is practically zero. I can still get erections, but I don’t get spontaneous ones, or morning ones. Yay!!!!! Those are fairly dysphoric, because they’re a very male reaction. If I make myself erect, I can view that differently, as it’s in MY control. A lot of the time I don’t even get erect when I have an orgasm.

Masturbation. At first I could still do this just fine, but it was causing me dysphoria issues. Later, when my sex drive dropped off, figured it might be a good idea to just keep doing it occasionally to keep sensitivity up so things will work right after surgery. Sounds like a good plan, and my dysphoria from it had dissipated. So, a few months ago, I tried, and the ‘orgasm’ at the end was so anti-climactic it was depressing. It was like my genitals said, “Meh.” And nothing came out. I don’t seem to produce much of anything at the moment. a tiny bit of clear liquid at times, and usually before orgasm. Mind you, I’ve never had a lot of ejaculate because there was never any sperm in it.

So, I gave it a while before trying again. The next time I didn’t even get a ‘meh’. I got absolutely nothing. You know how people talking about climax describe it as building towards a cliff, or some kind of edge (hence the term edging), and then going over that edge and falling? There was no falling. The cliff was the same height as the ground on the other side. Nothing. Just the loss of sensation of the build. And every time since then has been like that. So, I try maybe once a month right now, but it’s annoying more than anything. Maybe once my estrogen gets a bit higher something will happen again.

Erogenous Zones. These are weird little creatures. I have a few permanent ones. Nipples. Prostate area. Clitoris (tip of penis). But I also have ones that move and change. This could be due to changing hormone levels. My back almost always has some. Fingernails run up my spine sometimes. Other times it’s the sides of my back. Or across my shoulder blades. My neck often hides one somewhere. Behind the ears, or at the base of the neck. The underside of my wrist every now and then gives me shivers. Certain spots on my legs, especially the inner thighs. It’s kind of fun because they do change. Sometimes I’ll find one myself, and just absent mindedly stroke it. lol.

Likes and dislikes. Still figuring these out to a large extent. I’m definitely happy enough just having my nipples played with. Sucked on, stroked, pinched, bit, vibrated, hot wax dripped on. Not into a ton of pain, but the wax thing is a huge turn on. And pretty much any kind of touch will stop me in my tracks. Yes, you all know my kryptonite now. Use this information wisely.

I don’t mind genital stuff anymore. It used to be a big problem for me. Especially after using it as a penis. I came to the realization that it is MY genitalia, no matter how it looks, so it’s not a man’s penis. That being said, I stay away from using it that way as well. But doing things with the tip can accentuate what I’m feeling from other sources. Mostly vibration is what I like in this case.

Not a fan of anal play. Tried it, and with all the fuss involved, and needing to have so many stars aligned for things to even be pleasurable, I’ve kind of let it fall to the wayside. I’d rather wait for after surgery to have things inside me.

I’m still mostly submissive in bed. Always have been, but I think I’m finding a stronger, dominant side expressing itself at times, more so than I’ve ever had before anyway.

On the fence about being tied up. Sometimes I like being restrained, and giving up all control. Other times not so much. So, it’s probably a night by night kind of thing.

I like my hair being grabbed and pulled a bit (my real hair is finally long enough for that), and I also just like fingers being run through my hair. That’s a great way to end a night, along with cuddling.

I absolutely LOVE cuddling. With my partner, and even platonically with friends. It is such a comforting feeling. Full of love and warmth.

Things that vibrate, as I’ve mentioned, are awesome. And can be used in so many ways.

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I’m still figuring myself out, anything that I thought was a like or dislike before transition had to be thrown out the window. That wasn’t the real me. That was someone that was afraid to really give in to her own desires. Someone that never would have written a blog post like this. She didn’t even know she was a she. So, of course her likes and dislikes would be different now.

Increasing hormones are going to continue to play a role in how I progress as well. My body will continue to change, and hopefully keep offering up pleasure in surprising ways.

Thanks for reading, and as things change I will keep you all updated.

– Jess (and I’m not even blushing)

PS – if anything I’ve written here brings up questions for you, please feel absolutely free to ask. No judgement from me on it.

I’ve heard some things third hand that make me feel like ranting a bit. So, here goes.

I am a woman. Period. (pardon the inappropriate pun)

It doesn’t matter how I dress, how I talk, how I act; I am a woman. It doesn’t matter that I have big hands and feet, that I’m very tall, wear wigs, shave my face every morning; I am a woman. I could put zero effort into passing and it would not change that a bit.

I do not do anything to be ‘more’ of a woman.

I don’t shave my legs because society says women shave their legs. I shave them because I love how it feels.

I wear pretty clothes and have a hard time dressing casual because it’s how I am. Not because I have some screwed up notion of what a woman is supposed to look like. This is how I want to look.

I wear makeup because I like how I look with it. I’ve gone out without makeup, it doesn’t bother me. I don’t feel less a woman when doing that.

I am not a stereotype. I don’t ascribe to stereotypes. I happen to like some of the things that are often stereotypically associated with femininity. I also like a lot of things that are stereotypically associated with masculinity.

Realizing that my likes and dislikes don’t define my gender identity was a breakthrough I had when I figured myself out. It is how I feel and see myself that defines my gender identity.

I bring all this up because I have made some comments about a couple things in the last few months and that has generated some negative responses.

Firstly is an experience I want to have of feeling small, vulnerable, and protected by a big, strong, stoic man. I don’t want this experience so that I somehow feel more complete, or to feel womanly. As I said, I am a woman. It’s just an experience I’ve never had, and it sounds really nice to me. Comforting.

The other thing that has generated flack is that I am happy to be losing some upper body musculature. Apparently this statement has been misconstrued as me saying I’m happy to be weak because it’s more womanly. Which is bullshit. I haven’t actually lost much strength at all. Just bulk. I never had a lot of upper body strength in my muscles, all my upper body strength comes from leverage (long limbs). I joke about it at times as being weaker. It’s a joke. Physically I may have lost a tiny bit of strength – I can live with that – it’s not something I ever desired though. Losing muscle mass on the other hand, I am very happy with, and would even appreciate a bit more if it happens.

Do keep in mind all of this is how I feel. I do not have a messed up version of what it means to be a woman. I am me, and will continue to be so. I am stronger than I have ever been in my entire life, and each day I get a little stronger still. Feel free to disagree with me. Feel free to argue with me. I don’t have any problem debating anything I say, ever. I will even admit when I’m wrong about something. But please take it up with me, and not so that I hear about things 3rd and 4th hand.

Today, for the first time at work, I was audibly gendered correctly. This is big for me. It took just over 2 months to happen. I know without any doubt I do not look as female at work as I do outside of work. But I DO think I look female. ish. mostly.

Without hair framing my face, all the masculine features leap out. Granted, there aren’t a TON of them, but they are there. And even most of them are subtle, but add them all up, and people make assumptions. This really isn’t about passing, but it kind of is. If I passed, this would be a non-issue.

It’s about presentation and reaction. If I present properly as female, I should get reacted to that way. A lot of my problem in my work environment is my fault. How I view myself affects greatly how I present myself, and vice versa. It’s a vicious cycle. I know I don’t look the way I know I can look, so that gets projected. Muscle memory is a great thing a lot of the time, but not so much for a transwoman in my job. When I’m at work, I have to do a lot of things that rely on muscle memory. A lot of things I don’t need to rely on muscle memory for, come along for the ride, unfortunately.

So, this is what happened:

Having lunch in the truck, an Indian fellow (about 55 years old) walks up to the truck (I believe he is a shop owner in the strata mall we’re pruning at). He says hi, and then asks how he can make his plants grow, with all this sunshine, his aren’t growing.

I get a few words out to find out what kind of plants, as he spots my uncle on the other side of the truck. “Oh, I will talk to the boss,” he says, and walks around to the other side of the truck. My immediate reaction is great, I don’t have to deal with this. Then my second reaction is, wait a sec, I’m the crew chief.

My uncle proceeds to find out it’s vegetable plants this guy wants help with. Neither of us are that familiar with growing veggies. I kind of zone out of the conversation at this point. Until I hear, “How much does she work for?”

Wait. What? She? Holy fuck. He said it completely matter of factly, not questioningly as I envisioned the first time being. He KNEW I was a she.

“I could hire her to look after my tomatoes,” or something like that. “$25 an hour for her to do that,” again he says. Then he said something about she should work for nothing, but I didn’t catch why.

It was over and over again, “she” and “her”. I was flabbergasted. I, in my opinion at least, did not look my best today. I’ve had other days where I could have sworn I was very cute and rocking my head scarf and still got called sir/he/him. I had minimal makeup on today – foundation (to hide electrolysis redness), eyebrows, blue eyeliner. That is it. Not even mascara today.

As he went back to the store, he offered us drinks (because of the heat) which we declined – we had lots of water anyway.

For the next while I was over the moon happy about this. Then I started thinking more about it. Was that a little bit sexist? Was I just a victim (albeit a minor one) of sexism? First thought; yay! Second though; that’s a completely inappropriate response.

I am completely of two minds over this. Sexism of any kind is horrible, and here I am happy it happened to me. wtf? I guess I kind of have to live with the fact that I’m happy about this one time. If it wasn’t the first time ever getting correctly gendered at work, I would NOT be happy about it. And it was relatively minor, could even just be ageism. I can’t discolour my first time with negativity. So, I’ll try and forget the ‘isms’ of it, and just recount the happy.

So yeah, ultimately – Happy.

Hugs,
Jess

Something changed, I’m not sure exactly when, or even what changed. It wasn’t wholly the being alone thing, it was some dysphoria stuff as well. Somehow, I’ve changed.

I had a very bad Friday night – trying to activate my new VISA. My voice, that I thought was halfways decent on the phone, this night, turned out to not be the case. My initial attempt ended when the CSR asked if I was phoning FOR Jessica, and then asked to speak to Jessica. I hung up at this point. Since Teresa and Rain were over, I thought maybe my voice was being compromised a bit by them being in hearing distance, so I went out to a park to be completely alone (bad idea really).

I tried the phone call again, and got passed the ‘I AM Jessica’, only to get my birthday wrong. For some reason they had my wrong day. So, then, all the other questions started about Teresa. All of which I got right, until they asked the last payment on the account. I’m in a very dark park at this time. I have no clue what Teresa paid on it last. It ends with me just asking if this would be better if I went in to the bank, to which he said yes, and I said very quickly, ok, thank you, goodbye. *click*

I started to sob uncontrollably at this point. On a bench, at 11:30pm in a dark park. I wasn’t making any effort to be quiet, and a guy walking his dog asked (twice) if I was okay. I managed to blurt out a lie of ‘yep’.

Eventually making it home, I said goodnight, and cried more in bed. I also said and did some things that night that I’m not proud of, and I’ve apologized for, and they don’t need to be shared here.

This was the worst dysphoria I have ever felt. I was basically told that I was invalid. But I think, the bad way I reacted made me realize I had to change some things. Going on like this was not going to be good for my marriage and my friendships, and I’d truly wind up alone.

It may simply have been that thought that triggered this change. It may not be that at all. I really don’t know, but I do know something intrinsic changed. A whole part of my mindset is different now. My level of dysphoria has been reduced to a quiet controlled background hum. Almost comforting, instead of the discordant crash of noise it was before. I have a new feeling of being ‘right’, of things being the way they should be.

I’ve gotten some of my patience back – my physical changes are quite slow at the moment and that was causing me additional stress, which is now gone.

I had lost a lot of my confidence Friday night with the severe misgendering. It has returned, strongly, along with a companion feeling of just knowing things are right. It’s almost a feeling of ‘screw what everyone else thinks’ but it’s not. I still care what people think, I just know that if they misgender me, they’re wrong and I’m right.

Things with Teresa have gotten better too. All because of this mindset change. I’ve been able to be alone at work, alone at home, alone while out, and no self negativity at all.

I can’t explain it. I wish I could. I am very happy it happened, and I seem to be very happy overall again. It seems more natural too. When I first started transition, I was very happy – but it was just a happiness to be transitioning. It was overlying other negative feelings, which eventually broke through. Not that I wasn’t happier with being me, but I have other issues as well, not just being transgender. But now, I feel truly happy. For the first time in a long while. And for the first time ever (in memory), I’m happy AND happy being me at the same time.

Yay for inexplicable changes in how I think!