Ankle-deep in Transition

I saw the shores of transition and got my toes wet. We spoke. We spoke on the ramifications and my feelings. I thought long and hard about the impacts. I prepared to take this journey alone. I understood that the people around me will need space to get used to the changes I make. Others will not support the new version of me. I understood… And I waded in.

I’m now ankle-deep. I’m learning to self-administer electrolysis. I’m training neck muscles to feminize my voice. I’m waiting for a referral for an endocrinologist. And that’s just the physical. Certain people are now addressing me by new name and chosen pronouns. I’m going through my list and figuring out who should be informed before I go public. If you don’t get informed and think that you should have been, know that I’m going through a lot. It wasn’t personal.

I am the only transgender person on my island that I know of. When you live in a community this small, going “stealth” is pretty pointless. Everyone knows your business and your history. It becomes a matter of when I feel comfortable making the switch. When one is in ankle deep water, it is a little early to try swimming, but that does not mean one cannot drown. I need to take it slow. Things are already overwhelming. Family members are drawing lines. I have found love and support in unsuspecting places. It’s a crazy time and place to be a trans-woman.

This blog is going to document my transformation. It will also be a place for venting and occasionally for bragging. If any of you are worried about me or where I’m headed, I take leave of you with this quote.

“I am old now: gray, wrinkled, tired, bloated, and my joints ached, too. But I am ready to come into my full destiny, as my childhood dreams predicted, as a Neo-Amazonian Pirate Queen of my own vessel: firing cannonballs at the worldwide culture of patriarchy in the name of all that does not suck.” – Roseanne Barr

Good night and blessings to all,

River

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