Going Down The Road Feeling Bad

Bear with me, because I'm probably going to wake up in three and a half hours and wonder what the heck I was thinking writing all of this stuff out instead of sleeping.  Whatever.

Flashback to 2003:  I was 23 years old.  I was reasonably aware at that point that I was transgendered or a transvestite or gay or something but knew I was too afraid to act on it.  I lived in my parents' basement in North Haven, CT, had a degree from a technical school but no job, existed off a $100 dollar unemployment check, and spent most nights playing Dance Dance Revolution at the local arcade or hanging out with friends.  I had yet to be in a meaningful relationship, and I had already accepted the fact that I would probably die alone.  I went to bed most mornings at 7am and woke up afternoons at 5pm; there were days in a row in which I wouldn't see sunlight.  I wasn't happy - I knew for a fact that life was slowly slipping out of my grasp.

And yet - I was content.  I still had my parents who loved me and were willing to do whatever they could to help (still do!).  I had plenty of friends who I liked and who liked me.  I could create distractions for myself that would stop me from thinking about how directionless I was.  I had plenty of fun!  Even though I knew there was a better life out there, I knew it would always be out there.  Eventually I would get sick of where I was and change things, right?  That eventually happened, as I was offered a cheap room in Cambridge, took it, moved out, and started over.

Things were tough at first.  I had arranged for a temp job so that I would have a way to pay my $400/month rent, but I ended up hating it and quitting early.  I literally moved with less than a carload of things - my bedroom when I set up was a paper-thin mat (to call it a mattress would be giving it too much credit), my computer on the floor in the corner, and two boxes of small things that I took from my parents' house.

As the years went on, I grew up.  Some old friends lost contact, some new friends emerged, and whether I see them twice a week or once a decade I love each one dearly.  I found a field (IT) that I like and am good at, and landed a job in a place I like, in a field I like, with a group I like.  I experienced some hardships - a car accident that totaled my car in 2005 and a fire that took most of my things in 2007 - and despite all parties coming out of both incidents uninjured, they allowed me to realize that I need to live my life to the fullest extent.  Soon after the fire I decided to transition from male to female, and almost two years later I can now taste the rewards of going through it all.  I know for a fact that I'm happy.

And that's what's driving me nuts.

I have changed who I am, exchanging the hand I was dealt for the one that I wanted, and I don't regret the decision one bit.  In a sense, I've come a long way - I'm accepted by people I know and strangers alike as a woman.  This is what I have always wanted.  But...I don't know how to shed my old male life.  I'm not even sure that I want to.  On one hand, it is literally painful at this point when people mess up my name or my pronoun, because it shows that no matter what I do, people will always have the vision of the male me in their head, and it will always be an effort to readjust.  Even when they get it right, I have this innate feeling that if I don't change things, I will never feel like a true woman.  

I don't personally hold mistakes against people because I understand it is a challenge at first - but then I think about how I wouldn't have to face it if I moved somewhere new.  That was the original plan.  It would be the most refreshing thing in the world to live a life where no one at all knew about this.  Much like when I moved to Cambridge five years ago - I would figure out how to better myself and my life, because I wouldn't have any other choice.  And just like five years ago - I don't actively want to.  I have no guarantee that a new place would be better than the place I'm in now, and there are plenty of things that I love about where I am now.

When all is said and done, my fear is that despite being accepted as a woman, I'm pretty much living the same life that I lived as a man.  The same life, with less fear of rejection and more self-esteem.  And that's great!  I have been questioning, though if it's great enough.  Hormones puts me in a second puberty, but from a life perspective I feel like I'm still in the first one.  I need to challenge myself if I want to become the best person I can be, and I don't think that I am.  It pisses me off that I have no idea how to talk to a guy, or to make myself 'dress up', or to even socialize with a stranger without worrying about when or if or how they will find out that I'm transgendered.  I hate knowing that there are people who probably feel like they don't know me anymore because my body is changing.

I guess it can be summed up like this:  my self-esteem is really high, but my confidence is really low.  And I guess that's the reason I'm up at 4:15am thinking about all of this stuff instead of sleeping.