A Big Step
Next Thursday, on the 26th of January 2023, I am going to come out to my parents with the help of my therapist.
On the same occasion, I will also kickstart the process in my school, settle the necessary matters, and begin living for once.
I realised — not without the help of some material to think about, ahem, Avatar 2 — that, for the better part of two years, I underwent a journey of figuring myself out. Doing this, I believe that I have now reached a point where going alone is not useful anymore.
I can sit at home and philosophise all day, but without gathering real experience, I will not reach my goals.
So this is what I’m going to do. I recognise that I’m lucky in this regard: My family is supportive of trans issues, and as such I’m not at any risk to lose my home over who I am.
I’m not so sure what to think about my classmates at school. If Gen Z is supposed to be more progressive than the ones before, I don’t really see much of it in the broad majority. While I do wonder how I will be seen by then, I don’t think it’s healthy for me to worry about it too much. I don’t have that much to do with them, worrying about it seems like such a non-issue.
I do worry quite a lot. I worry especially about the embarrassing situation of being wrong about everything, having to undo the steps I am about to take, and finding contempt among my peers for being wrong.
I’m allowed to be wrong. Though I’m confident that I’m not, in the case that I am, that is just the path my life has taken. And it seems to be very promising for the time being.
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This… is my only life. After this it’s heaven, or hell, or eternal blackness. But nothing will be the way it once was.
Today’s pseudo-philosophical advice to myself is that with every day too scared to improve my situation due to the ramifications it could have further down the line, I effectively lose a day of my life. I don’t want that.
I want to be happy. And I see a transition as a worthwhile way to gain happiness.