Trans joy is real

TW suicide

I am experiencing trans joy!! Much better than euphoria. I am finally me. I attended a transgender conference about gender affirming care and I resonated with the speaker. As I walked I kept looking down at my chest and wondered where my boobs were. Top surgery has been so wonderful for me. I realized I am no longer a bearded lady but a true man. As sad as I am about my mother’s death, I know it was a blessing as she was so against top surgery and I know I would not be able to handle her negative comments. I am finally happy with who I am. I may not have a perfect chest but I think the surgery went well. Last year at this time I was recovering from a suicide attempt due to dysphoria. Amazing how things can change in a year. Trans joy is real.

I vaguely remember how confused and psychotic I was. I was admitted for 30 days to a hospital on the north shore. About 2 and half weeks into the stay, I found out my surgery was postponed and I was bullshit. I wanted to die and I know if I wasn’t in the hospital, I would have tried again. As the social worker told me, this was life- saving surgery. It was so hard to believe this when my mother was dying. Too much was happening after my surgery. My mother never saw me once the bandages were off. It is just as well as the night they came off, my scar became open and I bled. I had to pack the wound for weeks. The scar isn’t pretty but I am hoping it will fade with time. I know my mother would bitch about it with her sarcastic comments that would hurt me. I am glad she isn’t around to hurt me anymore. She didn’t like me being trans and she didn’t like me getting top surgery. But I had to be me and have this surgery that was so important to my mental health.

Today was the first time I was looking for my boobs and was happy that they weren’t there anymore. I felt more confident in myself. I didn’t really meet anyone at the conference. I was way older than even the speaker of the gender affirming care presentation. I’m lucky my genes have me still look like I’m in my 20s. I’m happy I got up early for this. I was nervous because I am not a morning person and I woke up at like 330. Luckily I fell back asleep without a serious hangover effect. Otherwise I would be kicking myself for missing today’s events.

It was really hard to feel euphoria after my mother’s death. The sadness I had felt for months continued for several more months. She has been gone for six months and I am post op 6 months. It’s a happy and sad predicament. Grief is something I don’t always control. It comes in waves. Not only am I grieving my mother, but the self that was dysphoric for so long. The teenage me who didn’t understand why I had breasts in the first place. It’s a lot to process. It is especially hard with depression that has been bad all week. I never thought I would feel joy until today. I know it may not last long but I have the scars on my chest to remind me of it.