LAST YEAR I PUNCHED A HOLE IN THE WALL

The reason isn’t important, I know because I truly can’t remember why I did it. I do know that never once did I punch anything before transitioning from female to male in my 30’s. For me, the thing I noticed was that all the places in life that used to make me sad didn’t anymore. Instead they filled me with rage.

EVERY FRIDAY

I plunge this badboy into some muscle on my body. Except that mostly I forget. BRAINS ARE FUNNY, RIGHT? When I first started taking testosterone I counted down the hours until my next weekly shot. I painstakingly obsessed that not a drop was wasted. And now... now I kinda dread it.

Ever find yourself scrolling through the gram on a Friday afternoon loosing more minutes hiding in the bathroom avoiding work on your phone than you care to admit when all of a sudden a post smacks you in the face.

You know the smack. It’s the one of deep shame and guilt that “I’m not more evolved… “

When do you tell people you don't know well that you're trans? Do you just let them notice on their own that you now have a beard?

I have a moustache now.  

Well sort of.  It's more like dark peach fuzz.  It's slightly embarrassing to look like a teenaged boy.  I'm rocking this 14 going on 32 thing hard.

"You've lived a very full life,"  he says to me, while looking down at my chart and simultaneously peering up over his glasses the way doctors do.  

"I'm very interested," he carries on.

I deflect the awkwardness of the fact that until the age of 31 I've lived my life as a woman by making a joke: "What, not all transmen have birthed 4 kids?"