A journey to San Francisco to become no less than Me. (BLOG REBOOT: Former site of Hairy Legs.)

Tiny blurb.

I only have a couple minutes for it, I just wanted to let the world know I’m still alive.

Since I’ve moved out (GO ME!) in early December, I haven’t had any kind of internet connectivity.  We’ve barely been able to afford the rent bills gas food etc., and the only reason I’m in town at a hot spot today is because I need to get my turn signal fixed.  So here I am.

I have to say I’m kind of frustrated with where I’m at in my life.  I’m excited to finally be in control of my destiny and to finally be the adult who is looking after me.  I’m happy to be living in a place where I don’t have to deal with hearing my old name and I don’t have to be okay with my own household misgendering me all the time.  And I really am happy to be successful, self-sustaining, and have a roof over my head that I don’t have sell-out to be under.  All of these things are more than a lot of people can say, and I’m grateful.  But at the same time-

I have a decent chunk of medical bills hanging over my head, and I don’t want to add to them until I’ve got them under control.  And I’ve barely had enough money to get by so far, so until I have money, I can’t move forward with transition.

And yet there are people out there with less than what I have, moving forward, getting on with their lives, not stuck in a perpetual state of waiting on their puberty.  They deal with the debt because it’s more important to be happy than to be solvent.  Am I just being too responsible for my own good?  When I look at my situation, I feel like I might be judged by other people for not “wanting it badly enough” to compromise on my principles.  Could I be doing more right now to get to where I need to be?  Maybe.  I’ve always been patient, but I feel like the longer I wait, the more of my life is going to pass by without me.  I don’t know what’s more important- or right- for me.

I hate putting it on the back burner.  It keeps coming like this- “I’ll start T after I pay my medical bills.  And I’ll pay my medical bills after I get my car fixed.  And I’ll blank after I blank…”  Why can’t it be first for once?  It’s my life now, I’m in a place where it’s safe for me to transition, so why can’t I afford it?

Screw the bills.  After I pay these ones, I’ll just be adding more on top of a clean slate.  Why does it matter when they get paid?  I can’t keep doing this to myself.

Comments on: "Tiny blurb." (3)

  1. Dameon said:

    …Anyone alive in here?
    So, how is life lately? I’ve been working towards getting a binder and recently came out to a teacher (I’m in adult education, because highschool was hell for me, not gender related.) I’m still not sure how she’s taking it since I sent the message by e-mail. Let’s hope she’s accepting.

  2. The best way to go is one step at a time. There’s a lot of time to reverse a process like this before you pass any “points of no return”, and I guarantee that if this is the right way for you, the only thing you’ll ever regret is not starting sooner. But you’ll never know if you never try. Just make steady steps and don’t hold yourself back; move forward a little, feel your way, really take in the way that a change effects all aspects of your life and celebrate every step of the way, and if you’re still happy, move forward again. Keep doing this, and one day you’ll look around and realize you’re on the other side of the fence. I know I am.

  3. Dameon said:

    Yes, I know. One step at a time. I’ve been doing that for a while now and ever step I’ve taken is one that I wouldn’t take back for the world.
    Luckily the teacher turned out to be accepting. She even said it was okay to keep emailing her if I ever felt the need to.
    On the other side, my mom probably will never be okay with it as she’s let shine through in a conversation we’ve recently had. Apparently she’s okay with me having a mastectomy and a hysterectomy, so long as I don’t start calling myself a boy when I do… *sigh* Despite that, I’ll still try to explain some stuff to her once I get to finishing and sending her that letter I’m preparing. She’s let me get a binder though, which is good.
    She told me she once spoke to my dad about it, which explains a lot of things. Such as why he took me straight to the boy’s department when we went looking for new pyjama’s. Overall he’s been treating me more like a guy than anyone and I haven’t even personally told him anything!!!
    Anyway, thanks for the advice. I’ll keep it in mind.

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