Looking back on a previous post, I recalled how I often felt there was something missing. Despite climbing out of the giant black hole in my mind, I was still discontent. I had said that I felt there was a piece of me missing that got swept under the couch.
About a year ago, I had a profound revelation. After watching countless hours of youtube videos about packers, STPs, trans men’s experiences, out of “curiosity,” one video finally got through to me. Somehow I started watching “How to Know if You Are Trans” videos, even though I hadn’t actively considered that for myself. . .yet. I answered yes to most questions, and processed what that meant.
“Oh f*** I might be trans.”
I felt my mind go blank and my body felt empty, then my soul had been sucked back in. My eyes felt hyper focused but also unable to focus on anything. My brain felt frozen in time. I swear my bed had suddenly been replaced with a tiny boat on a stormy ocean. Despite the stereotype, I felt like the room was spinning; The rug had been yanked from underneath me and would never be put back the same.
I realized I was holding my breath and gasped. Suddenly my brain thawed out and now was running faster than it ever had. A time-lapse of my life from the beginning started to play at max speed. I felt as if I was going to fall over, but there was nothing to hold on to, I was there for the ride. Every single instance that I was uncomfortable being a girl, or wish I could take my shirt off like the guys, or dress up as a boy character for Halloween, had made sense.
Thousands of pieces to the puzzle that make up me were shaken up and reassembled in a matter of seconds, but this time every piece was there. This time, all of the pieces were connected. It all just made sense. I hate to be cliche, but I legitimately felt as if I had found the key. Everything in my past, looked though with this new lens, could be unlocked as to why I felt so uncomfortable and conflicted in so many situations.
That night I watched top surgery videos and HRT videos, how other trans men got their letters. I scoured websites for my health insurance’s policy for trans people, and if they would cover hormones and surgery and how much it would cost. I was ravenous for information and couldn’t get enough, I felt that I could have started to transition right then.
The next morning I was in shell shock. I couldn’t help but lay in my bed stuck in a mental loop of processing what I just discovered. I thought about everything and nothing. I hadn’t realized how long I was laying on my bed and staring at the wall until my roommate asked if everything was ok. Then I realized how I looked from an outside perspective: I looked like I had seen a ghost.
After the revelation, I immediately went into a questioning stage. Thats all I could think about for months. I wasn’t sure if I was actually trans or if I was faking it. I even went to a therapist and told her these feelings. Then I decided that I would stop thinking about trans things and ignore any dysphoria I was “creating” for myself because I couldn’t possibly be trans. Then it all came back, and I haven’t stopped dwelling on this information I had uncovered.
To this day I have been scouring my past pictures, journals, and memories, for any clue, and fact, that definitively proves that I am in fact a trans man. Anything that I find never feels like enough evidence. I am still questioning. I still feel like I’m faking it. Despite the discomfort I feel when walking into the women’s bathroom, or when someone calls me a “strong woman,”or uses female pronouns, no matter what I find, it never feels like enough.
Every blog I read and video I watch I tell myself that I must be trans and that I just need to accept it, because deep down, I know I am. After all this time questioning and taking simple steps to test how I feel being read as more masculine, I have never felt more confident and like myself. For some reason, my mind simply cannot latch on to the fact that I am trans.
I am a man.
I need to simply state this fact. Every time my brain repels it I need to repeat it. I know this is true. Even though it is scary and I am still unsure, this statement is more true than if I were to say I am a woman.
I wish I could go back to that life altering moment when I first understood I was trans, before the denial set in. I was so sure of myself. Now I am stuck bargaining, blaming it on my body-image, accounting it to simply being a tom-boy.
I am stuck in the middle of wanting to accept being trans but also looking for reasons that I am not. I hope there will be a day I laugh about how naive I was and how much happier transitioning made me. But for now, I just need to accept this piece of me I have discovered, and accept that it is a part of me that belongs.
Confessions of a Closeted Student 