Good Grief

Part of being trans is welcoming grief. I have to let myself grieve what I lost, what I never had, and being elbowed out of spaces I thought were for me. I want to tell the people who kept me small and ridiculed me as a child and didn’t allow me to develop the way I needed to that what I need to hear from them now isn’t “we were raised that way, it’s not my fault” but rather, “the impact that had on you isn’t fair.” I don’t need to be told that I’m selfish and my behavior needs to change. They can’t tell me specifically what behavior I’ve *developed* that needs changing, they just say “it has nothing to do with the fact that you’re trans.” All I hear is them making the correlation on their own and back pedaling so they don’t sound transphobic. Working hard on not hearing their voices as I make my next steps in my transition. Working hard on only hearing the supportive voices of people who see me and know that my boundaries are for protecting my relationships and that my choices are for my growth.

I started taking testosterone on June 26, almost a week ago. Already, I feel that I’m honoring my younger self by leaning into this. A part of me wishes I could have started in my teens. But I’m doing it now and I am excited for a future that I finally feel safe enough to dream about and follow.