It occurs to me that the first anniversary of the start of my transition has just quietly passed-by without any comment on my part.
I really don’t know what to say, to be honest, or indeed, even if anything really needs to be said. On the one hand, I am shocked that an entire year has gone by since I started on this journey; it seems as if I have only been at it for a few days at most.
On the other hand, the entire experience has been so curiously natural that I feel as if I have always been living as a woman. Just a few days ago, I was reading one of my old livejournal entries and I couldn’t help but notice just how strange it seemed for me to have been referring to myself using masculine pronouns; indeed, it even took me a few instants to remember that that was not, in fact, a typographical error. And yet, I don’t actually feel like I have changed in any way, at all.
All I know is that I remember what it felt like to be riding the bus from work on the very first day of classes after I came out; nervously sitting there in my new female attire, conscious of every eye on me, and unsure whether I should pretend I didn’t notice or whether I should try to hide*. As I walked home from the bus stop, I wondered whether this new reality would ever come to feel “normal.”
*It’s the former.