One More Week
I'm not one to usually talk about my transition on my blog, but this one, I just can't keep inside me any longer. In one week I have my top surgery consultation! I can't believe it's been three weeks since I got my approval to get the consultation. You see, you need a letter from your therapist before you can book a consultation for surgery. Or at least that's what I was told. Anyway, I got my letter in hand from both my therapist and my GP. I'm so excited. I'm also super nervous. This entire meeting defines my future. I don't know if I'll be able to sleep the night before. Hopefully that day I can stay late at work and use that as a distraction. My mind races around me. If they deny me or tell me that I need to find another surgeon, I'm going to be crushed. I have my heart on getting the parts I need remodeled so I can move on with my life. I need to be comfortable in this body. It's the only one I have and will ever have.
I don't really want to think of it as transitioning. I feel like it's just remodelling a few of the parts that I have. Doing some upgrades. It makes me feel more comfortable about everything. I don't know, I mean I know that I am transgender, I just want everyone to see me as a man, not a transman, not a transgender person, just me. Just Dan. Daniel. Danny. Whatever you want to call me as long as it's not misses. I've been waiting for this for so long. It's going to be such a breath of fresh air when I talk to the surgeon. I have a few questions. But mainly I'm just looking forward to feeling comfortable in my body. I want to be able to show me off and be proud of who I am for once in my life. No more hiding. I can find real happiness. I've been better since coming out and talking more about my gender identity the transgender incident at work and my sexuality. I've never really felt more accepted by people than I do now. Hiding myself, having to create a fake identity that made me miserable was too draining on me. I think it worsened my depression more than I'll ever know.
I wish that I could make my mother see that it's not really a choice. It's me doing what I need to feel right. It's what I need to feel whole. It's what I need to be able to live as me. If I can't live as me, who I know I am, who I want to be, then there's no point in living at all. Of course, she will see it as a fuck you to her, or some kind of twisted game I'm playing for attention. I don't even want to tell her about the surgical consult. Actually, I can't even tell her. I can't have her be happy for me that I'm working towards being mentally healthy; that I'm working towards a better life for me. She'd lose her shit and yell at me. She already told me what she thinks about people like me. She thinks we're mentally ill and wrong. I know she doesn't agree with my sexuality. It bothers her beyond all reason. And I don't understand why. I don't think I ever will. If I ever had a child, I would just want them to be happy and healthy, regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. I'd want my child to know that they are loved and safe no matter what. The world doesn't matter, they will always have a safe place with me. I've had to find this with other people.
It hurts knowing that I can't tell her about this at all. I'm planning a major surgery and she won't even be supportive. She'll try to stop it, change my mind or do something horrible. Yet she can get a boob job to feel better about herself. She gives me shit that parents have the right to decide their children's lives no matter how old they are. I never saw her parents do that. She's just manipulative. If it doesn't fit her idea of what people should be than it's evil, wrong, bizarre or something else that's negative. It annoys me more than she'll ever know. It's made me hate and resent her. She doesn't respect me enough to call me my name in public or at my place of work; she had to call me my dead name and properly fucking humiliate me. I don't want her going in there and making me feel like shit.
I don't know what I'm going to do when I set my surgery. I don't know what I'm going to tell her. I'll probably tell her that I'm going out of town for a few days. That way I won't have her butting in and trying to get in the way of thinks. It's disgusting and annoying that I have to worry about her butting in like this. I should be able to live my life just like she did. Maybe if her parents got in the way, she'd not have married my asshole of a father. Just saying. This isn't a mistake like all the ones she made. Moving away, marrying that dickhole, finding this new leech who she calls her friend. I don't want to follow in her footsteps. If I learned anything from her, I learned that I need to be my own person and I don't have the time to be hanging on regrets like she is. It's made her even more bitter and miserable. I've had enough of that in my life. The time now is about being happy; doing things that make me happy, doing things that are just for me. I've given so much of myself to other people that I don't even know if I have any parts of myself to stitch together to try and make a new person, but I'm going to try.
I don't really want to think of it as transitioning. I feel like it's just remodelling a few of the parts that I have. Doing some upgrades. It makes me feel more comfortable about everything. I don't know, I mean I know that I am transgender, I just want everyone to see me as a man, not a transman, not a transgender person, just me. Just Dan. Daniel. Danny. Whatever you want to call me as long as it's not misses. I've been waiting for this for so long. It's going to be such a breath of fresh air when I talk to the surgeon. I have a few questions. But mainly I'm just looking forward to feeling comfortable in my body. I want to be able to show me off and be proud of who I am for once in my life. No more hiding. I can find real happiness. I've been better since coming out and talking more about my gender identity the transgender incident at work and my sexuality. I've never really felt more accepted by people than I do now. Hiding myself, having to create a fake identity that made me miserable was too draining on me. I think it worsened my depression more than I'll ever know.
I wish that I could make my mother see that it's not really a choice. It's me doing what I need to feel right. It's what I need to feel whole. It's what I need to be able to live as me. If I can't live as me, who I know I am, who I want to be, then there's no point in living at all. Of course, she will see it as a fuck you to her, or some kind of twisted game I'm playing for attention. I don't even want to tell her about the surgical consult. Actually, I can't even tell her. I can't have her be happy for me that I'm working towards being mentally healthy; that I'm working towards a better life for me. She'd lose her shit and yell at me. She already told me what she thinks about people like me. She thinks we're mentally ill and wrong. I know she doesn't agree with my sexuality. It bothers her beyond all reason. And I don't understand why. I don't think I ever will. If I ever had a child, I would just want them to be happy and healthy, regardless of their sexuality or gender identity. I'd want my child to know that they are loved and safe no matter what. The world doesn't matter, they will always have a safe place with me. I've had to find this with other people.
It hurts knowing that I can't tell her about this at all. I'm planning a major surgery and she won't even be supportive. She'll try to stop it, change my mind or do something horrible. Yet she can get a boob job to feel better about herself. She gives me shit that parents have the right to decide their children's lives no matter how old they are. I never saw her parents do that. She's just manipulative. If it doesn't fit her idea of what people should be than it's evil, wrong, bizarre or something else that's negative. It annoys me more than she'll ever know. It's made me hate and resent her. She doesn't respect me enough to call me my name in public or at my place of work; she had to call me my dead name and properly fucking humiliate me. I don't want her going in there and making me feel like shit.
I don't know what I'm going to do when I set my surgery. I don't know what I'm going to tell her. I'll probably tell her that I'm going out of town for a few days. That way I won't have her butting in and trying to get in the way of thinks. It's disgusting and annoying that I have to worry about her butting in like this. I should be able to live my life just like she did. Maybe if her parents got in the way, she'd not have married my asshole of a father. Just saying. This isn't a mistake like all the ones she made. Moving away, marrying that dickhole, finding this new leech who she calls her friend. I don't want to follow in her footsteps. If I learned anything from her, I learned that I need to be my own person and I don't have the time to be hanging on regrets like she is. It's made her even more bitter and miserable. I've had enough of that in my life. The time now is about being happy; doing things that make me happy, doing things that are just for me. I've given so much of myself to other people that I don't even know if I have any parts of myself to stitch together to try and make a new person, but I'm going to try.
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