Well, I went to the capital for the first Pride I've attended as something else than "supporting those who need this". I've marched there twice before, but this time I was wearing my skirt and some jewelry and was in the trans block. It felt awesome how people were screaming "wooooo!" when they saw our block. And then there was that obligatory corner with "Christians" that had their idiotic signs. And in front of them and on both of their sides there were people with rainbow flags that were shouting "you are loved and valuable". And they almost completely managed to nullify the effect of the "Christians", and actually probably made the encounter net positive, because I really loved the effort those people had made to make us feel safe and loved in middle of that visual-verbal attack. My heroes! ❤️🧡💛💚💙💜
And then at the Pride hangaround after that, I encountered such balanced and well-living happy trans women, and they were talking about car mechanics that I have zero experience of, and other things that teenage boys have usually done but I haven't, and I was a bit gobsmacked. But, that helped me understand something important: That I had been gatekeeping myself from womanhood. What I really need is my normal hormonal balance, that I have still never in my life had.
So, I decided that in some months I will begin HRT. I only understood in April that I am trans, so for me all this has been quite a rollercoaster.
But then, the day after that was full of sadness. I was feeling anxious, I was feeling saddened, nothing seemed to inspire me. What a weird contrast to the happy feelings I had had just the previous day at the Pride. That I evening I talking in phone with my mom that is mostly very supportive but sometimes says "lovely" stuff such as "OH NO NO NO NO NO, not to my child, that would be so horrible, I really hope you won't need it!" some month or so ago, when I spoke to them about "possibly but unlikely wanting HRT" or ends the call meaning to say "Remember that no matter what, you will always be my child", but lets out a Freudian slip where the word "child" is replaced with "son". Anyway, in that call I figured out this sadness has somehow something to do with the decision I made that I will start HRT. And she asked: "Could it be that you're feeling a sadness of farewells? That you're sad because you've letting go of something."
And I started crying a medium-sized pond of tears, sobbing: "Apparently, because that question made me cry this much."
So, when this year began, I was still trying to learn how to live properly as an adult. (As an adult man.) And that had never really worked out. And I had no idea I was trans. Now I am finally letting go of that weight, and yes, that's a big good change, but also a lot to leave behind. In some way it means giving up on a goal I had for about two decades. Me as a male was an unattainable goal, and it's kind of funny it took me quarter a century to notice that.
But, better late than never.
So, yeah, that's how my last week's worth of days has been.