Detached From Transition
Some days I forget I'm even trans at all. I'm just a guy. I slap on my gel, drink my coffee, hit the gym, get on with my day, and that's it. No euphoria. No deep emotional release. Just routine.
When I had top surgery, I didn't cry. When I got my dressings off after two weeks I looked in the mirror and said "that's me." When my endo prescribed my T during my first initial appointment over Zoom I didn't feel anything. Even my endo noticed, and told me I looked disappointed. But it wasn't disappointment. It was detachment.
A lot of people talk about transition like it's this movie-worthy arc. For some people, it is. They have a whole highlight reel of their transition and that's cool. But for me, it isn't like that; and that used to make me feel like I was "doing it wrong".
I haven't documented any of it and everything felt like it was happening around me, like I was watching from a third-person camera. Even now, a year into transition, I feel more absent than affirmed.
And yet, somehow... this is my normal and l've accepted it as such. I don't "experience" being trans anymore. I just exist. It isn't something that shows up unless I'm at the doctor's or in bed with someone. That's the only time it feels like a factor that comes into play, like an allergy or a preference.
Most days I'm just trying to live my life.
I don't know if that makes me a bad trans person. A disconnected one. A traitor to my own community. I've wondered all those things and more. But this is my version of manhood that came out the other side of everything l've lived through. It's not flashy. It's not joyful. It just is.
If that resonates with you, or doesn't, l'd love to hear your side of it. I'm not here to offer wisdom, I'm just putting this version of peace out into the world.