A long and winding road

I recently read this post, and it really struck a nerve. It made me think back on my own journey, and take stock of where I am now. 

The second anniversary to my egg crack passed almost without notice. So did my "1,5 years on T" date in September. My second cracking, when I realized I was transmasc, was on December 2nd two years ago. That date is coming quickly too.

And while I do still think about these things, it feels like my identity has... settled... more. I'm not as much in a million pieces, like I was just after egg crack. I've picked myself up, put myself back together as a new sort of mosaic, and I'm staring to get comfortable with the pattern. It's not as new, not as frightening. 

That voice in my head, the gremlin that kept questioning whether I might not really be trans.. It's quieter now. Doesn't speak up as often, or as loudly. It's not gone. I don't think it'll ever be completely gone. But I've accepted it, just like I've more or less accepted the rest of me. After all; it could be right. I might have just fooled myself into thinking I was trans. I might regret this later. 

I might. I find it highly unlikely, but I might. 

And then what? 

Well, then I'll probably transition back. Partly, or all the way. And that's ok too. At least I did what I could to try to be happy now. If I change my mind, I'll do what I can to try to be happy then. I'd rather try, and regret it, than regret never having tried at all. 

Today is Transgender Day of Remembrance, where we remember our trans siblings that have been lost to anti-trans violence or suicide. I've never been actively suicidal, but statistically almost 40% of my trans siblings have seriously considered suicide in the past year. Mental health improves, statistically, if we are accepted by our family and friends. And I am. 

I've been immensely lucky, in this respect. I can imagine how much harder this journey towards self-acceptance would be, if I was all alone. If people didn't accept and respect me for who I really am. I can imagine, and I shy away from that thought. Because I'm already struggling. Not suicidal, no. I don't think I will become suicidal either. But my mental health isn't all that great.

So while my journey towards self acceptance feels calmer now, less bumpy, less scary, less unfamiliar.. It's still a long, and dark, and winding road. I stumble occasionally, because I'm really, really tired. I love how everything feels more settled now, but I still want more of that. More predictably, more security, more stability. Knowing both where I am, and where I was going. That would be nice.