Introducing “S”
While there are a couple of sentences about me on the homepage of this website, I figured it was about time I properly introduce myself. As I mentioned before, I’m not quite comfortable revealing my name just yet, but “S” will do for now.
I grew up in a typical middle-class, suburban town in the Midwest, raised by two parents who tried their best but didn’t fully understand who I was or how to raise a kid who didn’t quite fit their expectations. Part of it was due to a lack of information, but societal expectations also played a huge role. I didn’t even start to recognize that I might not be cisgender until I was around 22 years old. And even then, it took me almost two more years to finally say out loud to myself that I was nonbinary, and another one to two years to admit that I wanted to begin transitioning.
I owe a lot to my trans and nonbinary siblings on social media for guiding me through this process of self-discovery. During times when I couldn’t even hold my own hand, they were there to help me make sense of the whirlwind in my head and show me that a happier life was possible. I didn’t think I felt profoundly unhappy. I assumed the discomfort I felt was just how most women must feel about their bodies at some point or another, and that it was perfectly normal to question your gender.
But after two years of nonstop questioning, a very kind friend lovingly nudged me by pointing out that most cisgender women do not, in fact, spend countless hours every day questioning their gender or wondering if they might be nonbinary. That simple truth hit me hard, and from there, I started the difficult but ultimately rewarding journey of accepting myself.
A few months after that conversation, I began coming out to close friends, then family, then colleagues. Shortly after, I started microdosing testosterone, then binding, and eventually looking into top surgery and a hysterectomy. Somewhere along the way, between all of these physical, social, and emotional changes, I found myself. I know that sounds corny, but it’s the truth.
The best way I can sum up my feelings about my transition is this: While I personally think I could have lived the rest of my life as a “woman,” it would have been a profoundly limited life. With every step I took in my transition, I realized that the tiny glimpses of what I thought were happiness before transitioning were nothing compared to the happiness and peace I’ve felt since starting my journey.
With each step I took, I experienced a sense of lightness and ease I didn’t even know existed before. Looking back, I realize how small my life was before, without even knowing it. The happiness I feel now is something I could have never even imagined. And even when I took the first steps in my transition, I was so unsure if it would be worth it. I was terrified of telling everyone in my life, of turning my world upside down. What if I did all that, and I was still just “fine” in life?
But the more I saw amazing people online coming into themselves, the more I started to trust the feelings within me. Seeing all these nonbinary and trans folks radiating true self-peace and happiness…something told me that if I walked a similar path, I might just be more than alright. So, I took a step forward. Then another. And another.
While the journey has been far from easy, I feel incredibly fortunate to have had countless people online to help light the way. It’s now been five years since I began my transition journey. And while that journey is far from over, I feel like I’m finally at a place where I can start giving back to the same community that helped me get here. I’m far from an expert on all things trans or nonbinary, but I hope that the little knowledge that I do have might be of use to others in their own journeys.
-With love and light, S
