Today I’ve been feeling up and down. Loved and ignored. Happy and sad. No matter what I’ve been feeling I will always be grateful in one thing: trusting myself. I am so happy with the person I am today, 2424 days into hormone therapy, and I thank that little boy in the first picture who had the courage to do something I am still in shock of. I was scared and depressed before day 1 but I found a community of people online who supported me and will forever attribute the bravery I had on that day (June 16th, 2010) when I started hormones, to them. Since then the community has grown into something beautiful and I am so blessed to be part of it. Now it’s my turn to help people and it feels amazing that everyday I look online and what I’ve always wanted has happened. I’ve always just wanted to help people and be a resource for them. Here I am, 6.5 years into this, and feeling so fulfilled by the work that I do. Helping people is what I am meant to do and maybe this comparison will help people, maybe some people will hate it. But I’m so proud of who I am today and even though I feel low, ignored, and sad. I’ll always have the feeling of love and happiness by my side, especially coming from you guys, the amazing online trans community that we all built together. ❤🐝
Newest side by side. My birthday two years ago, and me last week. When I look in the mirror I barely recognize the woman looking back at me. I’ve still got my chubby cheeks, and I’ve still got a long ways to go. But I’m far better than where I started.
I remember being told at a young age to put my shirt on at sleepovers, that I wasn’t one of the boys. I remember trying to pee standing up at age 8 and making an absolute mess. I remember the envy I felt and couldn’t explain over my guy friends’ Adam’s apples And voices And muscle tone. While my body softened, though never became quite womanly, during puberty. I remember my grandmother telling me to stop slouching And never knowing why I wanted to hide my chest. I remember starving myself to prevent any curves from staking claim on my body. Looking back I remember these things, but it would be years until I came out.
I came out as queer (at the time, a lesbian) at 18 when I was out from under my parents roof. I thought I had finally found my niche, my thing, my explanation to a lifelong unnamed unease. I chopped my hair off, I loved women openly, and they loved me. I was “happy” in my newfound confidence as a masculine of center person. But I wasn’t.
Sometime around 20 I discovered that people could transition. That gender wasn’t black and white Or just what was assigned. I came out as trans for the first time crying on my bathroom floor, my girlfriend at the time tried to console me. I never came out to my twin, she just knew And though it took time, eventually she came around. The first time I told my mother we were in Vegas And I’d say it ruined the trip. The first time I told a stranger my new name was at Starbucks I was thrilled to hear someone call me Christopher Even if they didn’t know any better.
It would take me the next two years to come out slowly First to the my close friends Then to strangers And eventually a post on social media to address everyone else. I had been going by Chris in private for about two years before the day I actually “came out” (again). Some of us take time, and that’s alright.