I watched the cars passing by as I sat on the bus. My mind wondered, as it does a lot. It'd been maybe two or three days since I'd last considered the possibility of being trans. It was a reoccurring thought, and I'd yet to work out the pattern. I told myself it was probably just longing for another life when I was down. It seemed easy to shrug away and keep going. Keep living the part society had told me too. Because where was the use in trying to transition when I may never pass as a guy? Surely it was better to stay the way I was than going through that emotional hell?
A few days later that idiotic theory of mine got completely smashed to bits.
I'd got the call, the one that said I got the kind of job I'd been striving towards. It was full-time, permanent contract and well-enough paid that I didn't have to worry about looking elsewhere. I was of course happy for the day. Then in the evening I went to the bathroom. As I was washing my hands I looked at myself in the mirror. Out of nowhere I was fighting tears and couldn't work out for the life of me why. Looking back I can easily add the pieces together, but at the time it completely threw me. Then that night the thoughts were back, with a huge vengeance. Vivid dreams of being a guy. And when I woke up in the morning I realised this wasn't going to go away.
Two and half years and I finally accepted this desire wasn't leaving. It wasn't some extreme reaction to depression or anxiety. It wasn't escapism taken to a new extreme. It was a reality. My brain was telling me I was a guy. It had been my whole life, I'd just never realised it. I can see the glaring signs now. Always hiding in baggy clothes and hating anything that made me seem more feminine. I'd assumed it was to do with a bad experience when I was younger. A pretty acceptable explanation. But I'd had the counselling to get past it. The thoughts started a few months before this and I figured they'd leave when the therapy finished. If anything they got stronger, but I pushed them down.
I did the panicked internet searching, looking for some way to confirm or deny the whole idea – because I was potentially breaking down at how much everything would change. I read article after article and none of them helped me deal with my confused thoughts. Trying to work out if in adolescence I hated being a late-bloomer because it was the main source of my bullying – or because I had no issues with my gender then? And if it was the latter, then I couldn't logically have them now, right? Then I found an article that told me to ignore my past. So I did. I shoved all the 'if's' and 'but's' away and tried to think about my most basic thoughts on myself, physically and mentally.
I've always had male mannerism and been a tomboy. But if my dad told me to act more like a girl, I would. I never realised that before. I figured I just decided to have a good day where I'd dress up. But there was always some side-comment the day before. I wondered what was making me stay as I was. Fear of society's judgement? Fear of family judgement? It was a effing big part of it.
I'd always assume my depression was because of this or that. Always figured there was something wrong with me, for always feeling there was something wrong with me. On some instinctive level I've always felt different. I thought that was from people in general, but now I realised it was from myself. I've never felt comfortable in my skin, never felt like Me. I played the role given to me from the moment I was born. From the moment I was labelled female, I acted that way. But being a girl has never made me happy, and I've realised that even if everything changes – I have to do this. I have to become who I really am. It's not going to be easy and my depression is probably the worst it's ever been. But I know this decision is the right one, I can feel it with my whole mind and body.
I'm rarely confident about choices I make, but I've never been so sure of something than I am right now. I'm a guy.