On the whole, i am happy: far happier than i can ever remember being. That’s wonderful – and seems to parallel the experience of most trans women who manage to transition successfully. Cause after a lifetime of wrongness, you’re finally doing it right.
So all is sweetness and light?
All is utterly, thoroughly beautiful in the best and beautifullest of all possible worlds.
Except when occasionally. Unprompted. A thought sneaks in.
A thought about how it would have been to have been born with all the various gender bits the right way round. To have been born female.
And then, for as long as i hold that thought – and i drop it as fast as i can – a darkness opens up. I fill with despair. No. With a sense of loss.
A long, uncountable catalogue of things i will never have known…from first party dress, to being held “like that”. Girlhood. Puberty. Growing up. Womanhood.
This makes me want to howl. In the darkness, alone, i do.
Why, why, why why?