Today’s my birthday, and it’s the first one I celebrated while openly knowing I was male–and having the friend I celebrated with be supportive and treat me like a guy. We had a beer at an awesome local bar in NOLA called the Rusty Nail, and planned tattoo ideas. Other birthdays I feel have been full of anxiety, and I see now it’s because my life never felt the way it should, and birthdays were just this intense reminder that something–some mysterious thing–was not right yet. Today I felt like my life was beginning to be my own.
When I realized I was trans, like the last three years of depression and agoraphobia suddenly simultaneously made sense, and loosened their grip. I also started working out for the first time in years, started to really take care of my grooming, stopped wanting to eat crap food, and have lost ~15 pounds without really trying.
Hope is a hell of a drug.