As I begin to build my life at 30, I have come to realise the extent that my life has been affected by the words of others and the profound impact that it’s had on my ability to go out into the world, to make a life for myself, to progress and find who it is I am. The experiences that I have encountered in life have severed my ability to form relationships, to stand proud, to believe in myself, to feel eagerness and excitement for life, a drive to persevere and chase progression.
Transition, for me was a means to finding myself, it was a hope that I would fall in love with life.
The immense ongoing discomfort that I had felt with my body, I thought that that was the cause of my unhappiness and so I sought to alleviate the discomfort by taking testosterone and having surgery. It would be then that I could begin my life, and this is what would aid me in being ‘able’. Able to function in society, flourish, take daily life challenges in my stride while remaining resilient. Little did I know, my depression would worsen as would my anxiety. I became progressively fixated on my body and strove to change all that bothered me. I believed that once I altered the parts of myself that brought so much distress that things would be better. Things did not get better.
They got worse.
My hope of becoming a functioning human being crumbled before me.
The thought that life would begin came to a halt.
I was paralysed with fear and consumed with anxiety. Fearful of how the world would perceive me.
I began to realise my profound fears and how they were impeding my ability to live. As I worked through them, I began to feel free. Able. Invigorated.
Trauma had altered my perspective of the world. I realised this once I began working on what it was that had left me feeling stuck and unable to move through the world freely like my peers.
Slowly, I began to see the impact trauma had had on me. I started to see that what I was feeling was due to the experiences that I had had rather than the body being wrong and needing fixing. I realised that my ability to move freely through the world had nothing to do with needing to perfect my physical being, that I wouldn’t suddenly acquire the characteristics or confidence that I needed in order to feel liberated. As I worked through this, I discovered that the continual search for self would never cease through the means that I had sought.
As I worked on understanding where my fears stemmed from, I discovered how much trauma had impacted the perception that I grew to have of myself. The fog started to lift.
Now I have a better grasp on just how much fear has ruled my life, the extent to which it has stopped me from going out, meeting people and pursuing my desires. How afraid it left me. Afraid of connection. Attachment. Love. Afraid that the cycle of trauma would repeat. And so, I locked myself away in my bedroom for a decade.
With a coming of age, I have experienced a shift in the way that I see the world. My many years of yearning for an escape has finally arrived. Freedom and serenity are at my doorstep.
As I work on rebuilding, I am faced with picking up the pieces that transition left behind.
My mind is plagued by the thought that transition will forever follow me. Will there forever be remnants of it? Will there always be a question in the minds of others?
I know that change must happen, but it is confronting. When all you have ever known is ill treatment it makes trusting others and trusting that things will be ok difficult. The fear that lives inside of me has left me preferring to hide away rather than seek the belief that things will be alright. That people are good and in fact kind.