I have a secret to tell from my electrical well; it’s a simple message and I’m leaving out the whistles and bells…
It’s now been 24+ hours since I came out. And I feel…weird. I’m at this place where I’m not even sure what the big deal is/was. Which my brain automatically starts rejecting. I guess the honeymoon period is over? The thrill had to wear off sometime, I guess. The whole point was to normalize, and its like I’m desperately clinging to the post-outing high.
The experience of the past day has made me really feel orders of magnitude better about what may happen if and when I start HRT. The validation I got simply from declaring my true self to my little world sphere makes me think I could live as a woman. And I’m starting to realize, I want to live as a woman. Again, because of this experience. The spark and thrill when ever I was simply called Sandi…it’s right. It’s who I am. I couldn’t care less if I forego makeup (though something tells me I wouldn’t. It’d be sparse, but there). I still don’t want to wear dresses. I want the body that matches my mind’s eye, and I’d like to wear clothes of my personal taste that are meant for that body’s shape. I don’t think I’d be too keen on the whole “which bathroom” shit that’s all too prevalent. But it can’t be all beer and pizza (roses are fine by me, but I’m not a wine fan…beer and roses? I’ll make that a thing).
Part of me says “but don’t you want to pass?” Another part of me is like “uh, Sandi, you just came out. You did it in a way that it’s readily available information for anybody who’re you’re friends with on Facebook, which is almost everyone you know. You’ve told them you’re a woman, you’d really like it if you were called by your female name and if female pronouns were used, and you just scratched your beard. You’re purposefully bucking gender trends, what’s the difference if a year from now your body is sending out the female in just enough places for people to take notice, but not enough that there’s no doubt? And since when did you give a fuck what strangers think, you’ve always dismissed those that don’t know you!
And I honestly don’t have an answer for that. Well, beyond “this is different.” And I think that might actually be a valid answer. I mean, it IS, isn’t it? I could get jumped out there. I think I’m more worried about personal safety than actually looking “good.” I guess that’s what keeps me from doing stuff like wearing make up out and about at present. I mean, I don’t have the pedigree of Eddie Izzard or even Conchita Wurst. I should maybe get over
how I feel about how I look sans facial hair. Maybe having softer features would, erm, soften the blow. But I digress, the support of my friends doesn’t blind me to the fact that trans people world wide are subjected to some horrific shit by ignorant and intolerant violent people.
Being yourself is hard.