I was indeed surprised to learn most people actually like their bodies. I just thought of mine as this awkward contraption that was needed to carry my consciousness around. ;)
This is my exact experience with transition and I think a lot of people who transitioned in their 30s or older will resonate with this. I was “okay” with living as a woman because it was a mask I had become conditioned to wearing. And of course, I didn’t have any other experience to compare it with. You can’t miss what you’ve never had, right? By the time (late 20s) I had even discovered FTM transition was possible, I told myself I didn’t want it badly enough to actually do it, it was just a curiosity in the back of my mind. Plus I had all kinds of misconceptions like it would take years and years to pass, etc (I passed within 6 months of starting T lmao)
It was during the pandemic that I started following lots of trans guys on Instagram who documented their transitions and I got to see what the process actually looked like in reality. I got intensely jealous of what they had. By then I was 33 and had an established happy relationship with a straight man, a high-paying but conservative job, etc. I stood to lose a lot from transition, and indeed I lost both my boyfriend and my job (well, quit both pre-emptively).
It was only through writing my novel, which features two gay male protagonists, that I realized I couldn’t put the mask back on. I wrote for as many hours of the day as I could, because I was in a world where I could *be* these fictional men, but when I closed my laptop I had to go back out there and engage with the world as a woman. There came a day in 2022 when I broke down because I could no longer do it. I could no longer pretend I was okay with a reality that demanded womanhood of me. And I started T about 6 weeks later.
Now, even despite the political environment, I’m thriving. The man I have created in myself, the man others around me have gotten to know, is joyful and adds value to every situation he is in - instead of just floating through life like a ghost. People love the man I am. They were more or less indifferent to the woman I was. I used to identify so hard with that song from Chicago, “Mr. Cellophane”, even despite the pronouns, because I felt invisible prior to transition. Now I’m real.
Relatable! I've been writing novels for about 20 years now, and in the ones after my egg cracked, I was very intentionally living vicariously through my strong female protagonists.
A few days ago, I happened to come across my very first novel, which was written a good 10 years pre-egg-crack and which I hadn't even looked at in ages. I flipped through it, happened upon one of the critical character-arc scenes, and was utterly floored at the barely-veiled trans allegory in that scene.
Whatever we're dealing with in our lives, it's fascinating to me how it shows up in our writing whether we're trying to put it in there or not...
Since it was only 3 years ago, I can remember very clearly using the exact words "I'm OK with being a man." I was about 6 months into transition, but the enormity of the thought that I would likely lose my relationships with my grandchildren made me turn around. Six months after *that* it was clear that, having tasted what life might be like if I was my true self, I couldn't do it - I couldn't be OK with being anyone but who I really am. I'm not as happy as I was before the election, but I'm still happier than I ever considered it possible to be when I was living incognito. Thank you for this clear and persuasive exposition on settling - I hope it provides the impetus for many struggling trans folk to take the next step.
Thank you for writing this! I certainly needed it. I’ve spent the last two years in a roundabout battle with my gender but more and more I’ve realized that other people know and love themselves in a way I never have - because I’ve denied so much of myself - I’ve refused to know myself or believe that I could have the life I dream about. Being ok means never allowing yourself to see the possibilities of what your life could be or who you might be.
I was indeed surprised to learn most people actually like their bodies. I just thought of mine as this awkward contraption that was needed to carry my consciousness around. ;)
This is my exact experience with transition and I think a lot of people who transitioned in their 30s or older will resonate with this. I was “okay” with living as a woman because it was a mask I had become conditioned to wearing. And of course, I didn’t have any other experience to compare it with. You can’t miss what you’ve never had, right? By the time (late 20s) I had even discovered FTM transition was possible, I told myself I didn’t want it badly enough to actually do it, it was just a curiosity in the back of my mind. Plus I had all kinds of misconceptions like it would take years and years to pass, etc (I passed within 6 months of starting T lmao)
It was during the pandemic that I started following lots of trans guys on Instagram who documented their transitions and I got to see what the process actually looked like in reality. I got intensely jealous of what they had. By then I was 33 and had an established happy relationship with a straight man, a high-paying but conservative job, etc. I stood to lose a lot from transition, and indeed I lost both my boyfriend and my job (well, quit both pre-emptively).
It was only through writing my novel, which features two gay male protagonists, that I realized I couldn’t put the mask back on. I wrote for as many hours of the day as I could, because I was in a world where I could *be* these fictional men, but when I closed my laptop I had to go back out there and engage with the world as a woman. There came a day in 2022 when I broke down because I could no longer do it. I could no longer pretend I was okay with a reality that demanded womanhood of me. And I started T about 6 weeks later.
Now, even despite the political environment, I’m thriving. The man I have created in myself, the man others around me have gotten to know, is joyful and adds value to every situation he is in - instead of just floating through life like a ghost. People love the man I am. They were more or less indifferent to the woman I was. I used to identify so hard with that song from Chicago, “Mr. Cellophane”, even despite the pronouns, because I felt invisible prior to transition. Now I’m real.
Relatable! I've been writing novels for about 20 years now, and in the ones after my egg cracked, I was very intentionally living vicariously through my strong female protagonists.
A few days ago, I happened to come across my very first novel, which was written a good 10 years pre-egg-crack and which I hadn't even looked at in ages. I flipped through it, happened upon one of the critical character-arc scenes, and was utterly floored at the barely-veiled trans allegory in that scene.
Whatever we're dealing with in our lives, it's fascinating to me how it shows up in our writing whether we're trying to put it in there or not...
Since it was only 3 years ago, I can remember very clearly using the exact words "I'm OK with being a man." I was about 6 months into transition, but the enormity of the thought that I would likely lose my relationships with my grandchildren made me turn around. Six months after *that* it was clear that, having tasted what life might be like if I was my true self, I couldn't do it - I couldn't be OK with being anyone but who I really am. I'm not as happy as I was before the election, but I'm still happier than I ever considered it possible to be when I was living incognito. Thank you for this clear and persuasive exposition on settling - I hope it provides the impetus for many struggling trans folk to take the next step.
I transitioned but still not ok due to the overwhelming hate directed our way.
Thank you for writing this! I certainly needed it. I’ve spent the last two years in a roundabout battle with my gender but more and more I’ve realized that other people know and love themselves in a way I never have - because I’ve denied so much of myself - I’ve refused to know myself or believe that I could have the life I dream about. Being ok means never allowing yourself to see the possibilities of what your life could be or who you might be.