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Then one day- at 36 fucking years old, you realized you were transgender. You weren't incurably mentally ill. You didn't have body image issues. You didn't have untreatable chronic depression. You didn't have a personality disorder. You weren't an unemployable fuckup...
You'd given up believing in root causes for your problems and committed to a white-knuckled mature adulthood that relied on never letting yourself feel anything or follow your own instincts... And then suddenly, after you'd given up... There was an actual answer. And it worked.
At 37 you got on a medication, testosterone, that just... worked. You don't feel crazy anymore. You don't hate yourself anymore. In the bathroom every morning you find you can look yourself in the eye, and you don't shy away. It's not a stranger, in there, it's you.
We live in a time of medical miracles, where a person who has never passed for male a day in their life can take a weekly injection and pass as a man consistently in roughly 2 years. I will never stop feeling amazement, and gratitude, and joy.
And so I speak out for trans rights with a song in my heart and a spring in my step. Because I am lucky to be here, and lucky to be trans.
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