Transgender Life

I don’t want this site to be solely about being transgender. From my experiences so far, it’s not even something I could write about every week – being in the closet is far more intense and frustrating and writeable. However, there are moments when things happen, unique to trans people. I’d like to share those moments with you, and let you into the mystery.

Gina's Trans Diary, 09.10.16: These Doubts I Have

Gina's Trans Diary, 09.10.16: These Doubts I Have

Gina's Trans Diary, 09.10.16: entry 8 These Doubts I Have

I could have written about several things with this entry. In the end, I've decided to opt for what I think could be the source of a general period of psychological malaise.

I think I'm feeling low at the moment because everything seems so normal, to the point where I wonder what it would be like to return to the closet, or whether it would even feel like a closet anymore. I walk to university each day, as Gina, and what exactly? Physically, I don't feel any 'different'. Whether you wear a skirt or trousers, tights or socks, etc, it soon loses its distinction to the senses. The people you bump into at university in the study room probably wouldn't treat you any differently whether you were male or a trans female. Why put this pressure on yourself? On your family. Why take this course to sterilize yourself with hormones and not have the children that would be something wonderful to have (if you could only find the partner, and the desire to have sex in the way you've never felt before). Why are you doing this?

I can't remember what it felt like to be in the closet. How sad or frustrated I used to be. I have the memories as units of fact, but the emotions that went with them are absent, like a corpse having 'given up the ghost.' If I look back, the events are there: diary entries in a laptop from my life before Edinburgh. Works of fiction I wrote on my Creative Writing course. Plenty of documents capturing my despair. I remember back to before Edinburgh, in a country before Scotland, the double-life I had started to lead in my final years there. The trips to Manchester's trans scene. You yearn to come out full time, and wonder if it's an impossible dream. You've harboured such thoughts, secretly, all your life, wondering, where would you get the courage from?

Well, I found the courage and here I am. I see myself in the window's reflection on this dark evening. I have become so used to this image now that I've forgotten how much it means to me to have this.

I've forgotten what it's like to be a man. And because of that, the thought of being a man doesn't seem so terrible anymore; just a functional, non-plussed state of being. If I lived once more as a man, would I become sad again, at the sight of a woman? Envious, and wistful, at some news article about a particular transsexual. Depressed at a mirror's reflection, and allergic to the threat of a camera? When would the desire to be trans really kick in? When would I miss it most in this current, sexless, study-filled, functional life?

No, I'm not thinking of testing these questions.

But here's a conclusion as I'm writing this entry: coming out as trans is exhilarating at the beginning. Then you live it, and it's okay. If I had someone to love, and/or a career that excited me, then being trans would be even better. Or rather, being me would be even better. Being trans on its own quickly becomes nothing special. Because you're nothing more than the normal you that you always dreamed of being. Normal is better than repressed. But normal is really nothing special.

So what now? I'm submitting a manuscript of a novel I've been writing, tomorrow, to be formatted for an e-book. My first (self-published) novel, out in coming months, after several years of writing it. A big deal, I think. I have studies to throw myself back into – I haven't done any studying this weekend. Things to do. I did buy a really cool dress two weeks ago, I wanted to save it for something, but I think I'll wear it tomorrow as some kind of pick-me-up. I was never able to buy such things in the past, certainly not to wear them in public. Now the option is almost banal, a shrug of the shoulders. Shall I wear the dress or the skirt? Etc. Yes life is better. Just about.


Trans Diary 16.10.16 On Taking Hormones (I)
Gina's Trans Diary: On Self-Pity and Bitterness
 

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Tuesday, 28 June 2022

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