What a strange feeling it is to like half your life as a fake person, and then awake one day in a human body, one you are rapidly growing to love, full of wants and needs and desires and dreams.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I kinda forgot this blog existed for a while, or else I might have tried to write something for my one year anniversary of taking hrt. I think it’s important to celebrate these little milestones, because isn’t that what makes up a life? Little milestones, little rituals. Making joy in the corners of your life. I’ve understood this intellectually for a long time, but it’s only since transitioning that I’ve ever really been able to put it into practice. Taking care of myself, basic things like skincare, take on a new meaning when you perform them with intention. I am going to live a long time and I’m going to look beautiful doing it. I have a human body and I’m going to care for it. I am so lucky and so happy to be alive and I’m going to act that out every day, for as long as I can.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Before transition, I felt like a fake person, wading through fog, never feeling anything fully. I wouldn’t have told you I was depressed, because I didn’t even know what the alternative felt like. I think I just thought that was how everybody felt. When you’ve lived underwater your whole life, how are you supposed to know you’re drowning until you feel the air hit your face? <\/p>\n\n\n\n
To say that cross-sex hormones saved my life is inaccurate, or perhaps incomplete. I wasn’t suicidal before, I never affirmatively wanted to die. If I hadn’t figured it out, I probably would’ve been perfectly content to continue living a half-life that I didn’t even understand was miserable indefinitely. For years. For decades. Until I died. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
No, cross-sex hormones didn’t save my life. They gave me a life. They made me alive in a way that I wasn’t since I was a kid, or maybe ever, my memory is hazy. In a very real way my life started on July 6th 2024. I’ve lived more in this past year than for the past decade combined, and even with all the horrible shit going on in the world, including the stuff that specifically targets me and so many people I love — specifically targeting the medicine that makes it possible for me to live, to love my life, to be alive<\/em> — it has been the happiest year of my life and I say that with no hesitation at all.<\/p>\n\n\n\n To reconcile your current and past selves is a curious thing. The man — the boy, really — who lived that life was<\/em> me, but it wasn’t me<\/em>. I know that doesn’t make sense, and it doesn’t to me either, exactly, but it is what it is. I love that boy, and I wish I could’ve saved him sooner. I wish that someone could’ve noticed when he was a kid, or a teenager, and told him, and he never would’ve had to go through crying in the mirror looking at a reflection that he didn’t recognize, or lying on the ground and wondering what was so wrong with him, praying for a magical drug that would make him better. He shouldn’t have had to pray.<\/p>\n\n\n\n I’m tired of running away from my past. I’m tired of being scared of the present. I’m tired of the stagnation, the holding pattern, the habits of a self that no longer exists ruling over my life. I’m tired of it. I live in a human body and I have wants, and needs, and dreams. And I intend to listen to that body, and be kind to it, and follow those dreams, and fulfill those needs. I can’t pretend I don’t need that anymore.<\/p>\n\n\n\n <\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":" What a strange feeling it is to like half your life as a fake person, and then awake one day in a human body, one you are rapidly growing to love, full of wants and needs and desires and dreams. I kinda forgot this blog existed for a while, or else I might have tried […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[1],"tags":[13,7,15,16,8,6],"class_list":["post-77","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-uncategorized","tag-emily","tag-hrt","tag-identity","tag-lgbt","tag-life-shit","tag-trans"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/77","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=77"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/77\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":79,"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/77\/revisions\/79"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=77"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=77"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/2amwakeupcall.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=77"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}