Wow! I read this twice before even thinking about commenting. You pulled so many amazing things together here. I am glad you are here to spread the love. I can't see it as anything else. I will be 60 this month and have dealt with "knowing" to some degree most of my life without a clue what to do. It has stayed repressed, mostly, all of this time. At least enough to be somewhat functional. Thank you for sharing all of the different aspects that you have managed to get through. I really do enjoy your writing style, as well.
I feel this so much. I was 13 in 1996. Even if I knew everything it would be even worse than when I had my failed transition in the 2000s. At least in the 2000s, I can go online and look at resources, in 1996, there wasn't even internet at the library yet. Not to mention I was already teased and taunted at school already (didn't really get better for me until high school) this would have gotten me killed.
Yes, I hated transitioning in my 30s, but at the same time, I'm glad I was able to do so with support and resources of the community.
I did a lot of work looking back over my life, seeing the missed opportunities... and I have come to believe that this is the best of all possible realities. That I did my best, and while it might not be what I wish it were, it's the only way I'd be here, as me, happy.
Thank you so much for sharing your story with the world, and for doing it with such eloquence and kindness.
That angry, sad, scared girl who doesn't know she's a girl sounds a lot like me at that age. I was the too-smart, socially isolated loner kid with hidden mental health issues (bipolar in my case), and I wanted more than anything to get *out*. Not out of life - my thoughts never really turned in that direction - but out of the suffocation of suburban Arizona boyhood in the early eighties. And getting out any other way was impossible.
The difference is that I knew.
On some level, just a thin layer below consciousness, I knew I wanted to be a girl. I wasn't allowed to be that girl, but knowing allowed me to think about how I related to gender. Knowing allowed me to express the hidden parts of myself in tiny, harmless ways that took off some of the pressure. Knowing allowed me to sand down the sharp edges of a man's life so they didn't hurt so much. Knowing allowed me to hide myself from the world without losing myself. I wouldn't have described any of it that way at the time, but that's what I was doing.
For me, knowing made it bearable. But knowing also made it harder, in the end.
I knew how to exist in the world as a trans woman pretending to be a man. I knew that I could keep doing it until I died. And it took a long time to realize that just because I *could* keep it up, it didn't mean I *had to*.
If I had a chance to meet thirteen-year-old me, I have absolutely no idea what I'd say to her.
Gosh. I've had this talk with folks before--the old "is it worse to know but not be able to act, or to be broken and not know why?" It's so hard, because it's terrible either way.
I'm sorry you had to cope with it. For what it's worth, you deserved better.
Goodness this brings up so many big emotions. I’ve dealt with a hodgepodge of weird feelings toward myself over not understanding I was trans sooner. Sometimes it still hurts so much, the feeling of being denied the life I could have had as a young woman just starting adulthood.
But suppose I did understand when I was this age, in 2002. Things were still pretty *not great* then. Against the grief I feel for the known loss, there’s a completely unknown amount of pain and fear I would have had to live with understanding myself back then. I don’t know which path I would have chosen if given the choice, but I’m glad I can at least make this life I am living a good one.
You’ve brought up Amanda Roman’s writing before, so you’ve probably seen her piece “The Way Things Were.” That one also resonated and gives me similar vibes to your writing. I took my own pass at this microgenre of trans writing here:
Thanks! I’ve enjoyed seeing your writing and comments here and elsewhere, so that means a lot. I wrote that when I was *very* baby trans, and I’m glad to see that it seems to be holding up ok.
Over the past two years since I figured things out I've gone through repetitive cycles of grief and acceptance wishing that I transitioned earlier. I was born in 93, so a bit younger than you but unfortunately still not the best time period to be trans(at least in winnipeg). As time goes on I've realized that I was saving myself more than harming myself and I know all my friends fucked off when I transitioned at 28 so they sure af would have done it at 15
Of all the strong details in this story, what touched me most was that something so seemingly simple as the timing of a change of pronouns could be so transformative.
I was very busy in the late 90s trying to deal with an awful lot of the same (just starting at another gender point). Fuck that sucked. No wonder it took me so long.
Wow! I read this twice before even thinking about commenting. You pulled so many amazing things together here. I am glad you are here to spread the love. I can't see it as anything else. I will be 60 this month and have dealt with "knowing" to some degree most of my life without a clue what to do. It has stayed repressed, mostly, all of this time. At least enough to be somewhat functional. Thank you for sharing all of the different aspects that you have managed to get through. I really do enjoy your writing style, as well.
I'm glad!
I feel this so much. I was 13 in 1996. Even if I knew everything it would be even worse than when I had my failed transition in the 2000s. At least in the 2000s, I can go online and look at resources, in 1996, there wasn't even internet at the library yet. Not to mention I was already teased and taunted at school already (didn't really get better for me until high school) this would have gotten me killed.
Yes, I hated transitioning in my 30s, but at the same time, I'm glad I was able to do so with support and resources of the community.
I did a lot of work looking back over my life, seeing the missed opportunities... and I have come to believe that this is the best of all possible realities. That I did my best, and while it might not be what I wish it were, it's the only way I'd be here, as me, happy.
Thank you so much for sharing your story with the world, and for doing it with such eloquence and kindness.
That angry, sad, scared girl who doesn't know she's a girl sounds a lot like me at that age. I was the too-smart, socially isolated loner kid with hidden mental health issues (bipolar in my case), and I wanted more than anything to get *out*. Not out of life - my thoughts never really turned in that direction - but out of the suffocation of suburban Arizona boyhood in the early eighties. And getting out any other way was impossible.
The difference is that I knew.
On some level, just a thin layer below consciousness, I knew I wanted to be a girl. I wasn't allowed to be that girl, but knowing allowed me to think about how I related to gender. Knowing allowed me to express the hidden parts of myself in tiny, harmless ways that took off some of the pressure. Knowing allowed me to sand down the sharp edges of a man's life so they didn't hurt so much. Knowing allowed me to hide myself from the world without losing myself. I wouldn't have described any of it that way at the time, but that's what I was doing.
For me, knowing made it bearable. But knowing also made it harder, in the end.
I knew how to exist in the world as a trans woman pretending to be a man. I knew that I could keep doing it until I died. And it took a long time to realize that just because I *could* keep it up, it didn't mean I *had to*.
If I had a chance to meet thirteen-year-old me, I have absolutely no idea what I'd say to her.
Gosh. I've had this talk with folks before--the old "is it worse to know but not be able to act, or to be broken and not know why?" It's so hard, because it's terrible either way.
I'm sorry you had to cope with it. For what it's worth, you deserved better.
Goodness this brings up so many big emotions. I’ve dealt with a hodgepodge of weird feelings toward myself over not understanding I was trans sooner. Sometimes it still hurts so much, the feeling of being denied the life I could have had as a young woman just starting adulthood.
But suppose I did understand when I was this age, in 2002. Things were still pretty *not great* then. Against the grief I feel for the known loss, there’s a completely unknown amount of pain and fear I would have had to live with understanding myself back then. I don’t know which path I would have chosen if given the choice, but I’m glad I can at least make this life I am living a good one.
You’ve brought up Amanda Roman’s writing before, so you’ve probably seen her piece “The Way Things Were.” That one also resonated and gives me similar vibes to your writing. I took my own pass at this microgenre of trans writing here:
https://www.calyxpress.org/be-here-softly-by-claire-atkinson/
Ohhhh, I read that a while ago! It's absolutely lovely!!
Thanks! I’ve enjoyed seeing your writing and comments here and elsewhere, so that means a lot. I wrote that when I was *very* baby trans, and I’m glad to see that it seems to be holding up ok.
I'm glad! And writing is what my degrees are literally in, so I'd darn well better be pretty decent at it! 🤭
I'm glad it resonates with you, and I know Amanda's work *very* well. Her stuff is the main reason that this Substack even *exists*.
I'll check yours out!
Over the past two years since I figured things out I've gone through repetitive cycles of grief and acceptance wishing that I transitioned earlier. I was born in 93, so a bit younger than you but unfortunately still not the best time period to be trans(at least in winnipeg). As time goes on I've realized that I was saving myself more than harming myself and I know all my friends fucked off when I transitioned at 28 so they sure af would have done it at 15
Of all the strong details in this story, what touched me most was that something so seemingly simple as the timing of a change of pronouns could be so transformative.
I was very busy in the late 90s trying to deal with an awful lot of the same (just starting at another gender point). Fuck that sucked. No wonder it took me so long.
Yeah... we get there when we get there.