I often find myself thinking.
Thinking must be one of those human conditions. Probably should get it checked.
The mind fuckery of my daily life often revolves around a simple question. Who am I?
It isn’t the question a 40 year old is typically asking themselves. That question would most likely be, “What the fuck have I been doing with my life?” The classic midlife crisis question.
Rest assured I ask myself THAT a lot too. But hey, I grew boobs for my midlife crisis so I kind of have that covered.
For me, it is the, “Who” rather than the “What” that hangs me up. Such is the joy of 2nd puberty. People said these would be awkward years. I had no idea how awkward.
The problem is, children in many ways are formed. They are an expressive mixture of their genetic and societal influences growing up. I have to do this shit myself, against society, genetics and upbringing in so many ways. This isn’t how it is typically done.
So… I take my time.
I am sure that bothers some people. Tough titties.
I have heard ALL the criticisms. It quickly becomes clear people sometimes just don’t like that I am trans, so if that means one person will tell me I am too girly, and another will tell me I am not girly enough. You can do nothing right in the eyes of many when you are trans.
That bullshit alone was enough to convince me to go at my own pace and to never try to meet someone else’s expectations.
The truth is, I have no clue how I will turn out. But there is a method to my madness. Puberty takes a LONG time for anyone. No human is the same person at the start of it as they are at the end. It changes and shapes not only your form, but your thoughts and motivations as well. Over that time, you start to let go of childhood.
In that sense, my, “Childhood” lasted 37 long, oft torturous, male years. That shit takes time to sift through, sort out, process, and see what needs to be let go of and what to hold close. It is like a living, post mortem. Shit’s weird.
Meanwhile, my body keeps changing. The fat finally got around to migrating, it is a blessing and a curse. Every day I feel more feminine, if only because less muscle and more subcutaneous fat quite literally changes how almost everything else feels to the touch. My boobs have hit another growth spurt and are well past hiding without heavy layers or binding. 3 years into this and they are THIS size? If these were on a teenage frame, you’d be going, “Oh honey, they aren’t even close to being done growing.” So like puberty, my body is forcing the process’s pace in many ways no matter how ready my mind may be.
And like a teenage girl, there comes a point when those physical changes begin to subtly alter the way the world around you treats you.
And like a teenage girl, those changes are met with feelings of relief, curiosity and dread.
And like a teenage girl, I have a lot of shit going on in my head right now. I am prone to emotional outbursts that make sense only to me.
So I can start to get bitter if I am not careful. “These changes aren’t moving at MY pace!”
Suddenly I am thinking, “I can gain weight just by thinking of food!”
And like a teenager, OMG my appetite!!!
So while folks judge me, and my transition, like they do… it doesn’t bother me much. I always expected there to be criticism. I have other shit on my mind. Like, “Who am I?”
I am trying to find out who I am without forcing it. I am using roughly the same timeframe every other pubescent female uses, Mother Nature’s.
I dunno. Figuring out who I am is a full time job and it will remain one for several more years. I’ll get there eventually. The journey isn’t particularly fun, and it is quite lonely at times, but I am trying to avoid forcing anything that would otherwise happen naturally. And I am starting to see signs that it is paying off.