You’re going to look bad at first. Your sense of taste is being reshaped at breakneck speed. All of the weird phases that other people were allowed to have in middle school are going to happen all at once. You’re going to go through puberty again and deal with the acne, the voice cracks and the fat redistribution. Growing and shrinking pains. Your clothes will stop fitting. You will have to buy more or learn how to sew. It’s very expensive to look like a different person.
Although you may feel like a different person, you cannot leave your old troubles and traumas behind. That new name cannot rewrite who you are. There is no hard start or end date to your transition. You could celebrate milestones like your renaming, first hormones or getting gendered correctly. But it all blends together and slowly feels like coming home.
You’re going to have complicated feelings about your body. Especially the things you have already been made fun of for, like your body hair or the size of your hands or feet. You will look at your body through new eyes and new things are scary. Your body is not monstrous; it is different and new.
You will remember each and every interaction you have with strangers. And it’s not their fault. Sometimes. They haven’t experienced someone like you before and they may never again. Because you are unique in a way that you have never asked to be.
You will be stared at. Often. Existing in public will get you trapped in the infinite conversational loop of “Sir-ma’am-. . ?” by strangers. You will wonder if other people are perceived and labeled as often as you are. They are not.
You may want to disappear under the weight of their stares. Do not. You need to live, and there are people who count on you. Some of those strangers are people like you. They need to see that there is more.
Being transgender is terrifying. It feels like your insides are on display. Not to mention the physical danger you are in. It is a pressure unlike any other. You will scrutinize all of your body parts and habits as too masculine or too feminine. You will rebuild yourself constantly. It will never end. Find joy in the process. It’s the only way to cope.
You will quickly discover that it takes so much work to feel like yourself after a lifetime of feeling wrong. You will learn new skills and gain new hobbies. Makeup is hard. Everything is hard. You will need to lean on your genderpeers for help.
You will bridge the gap between people. You grew up speaking fluent “boy” or “girl” and you will be expected to translate for the monolinguals. It is exhausting. You will relearn how to speak. The remnants of your old self will blend with your new self.
Your voice is a beautiful and blurry mosaic of your past, present and future. Don’t be embarrassed to be heard. Speak up. Your voice will vibrate in a different spot and it will tickle or hurt or both. Your voice is an instrument that you’ve been playing with your non-dominant hand. It will take time and patience to relearn it.
You will need to develop thicker skin. The truth hurts. Strangers are mean. Your real friends are honest, sometimes too honest. Make sure to take a break from being scrutinized. Find people like you.
Being transgender is a lonely existence and company is a necessary break. Be gentle with yourself, because you will make so many mistakes. Let go of your anger at missing out on so much. You will never get the time back, but all you can do is commit to living as yourself now. Good luck on your journey; I’m here with you.