I hate every second and facet of it except for one singular thing.
I'd never have ended up with my boyfriend if not for my wrongbits. He's straight, but he's dating me and while he's known (and liked) me for 5 years or so, he started dating me about a month before I started living full time male, and was the first person to really back me up on all of this.
He bats down awkward questions from his coworkers who only know him as a nerdy, occasionally flirtatious straight guy with comments like "people change" or "So I'm bisexual, whatever" or any other little thing he thinks up. Up until yesterday, i kept thinking I'd give anything to have the right body, but I'd amend that now. I'd give anything to lose this goddam chest. The fronthole? Its got its uses. And yes, as he said, he'd still love me endlessly. And yes, as he also said, he'd still cling to me and hold me and be the perfect boyfriend, but I couldn't bear losing the only sex that makes me feel right. I love this guy, more than anything in the world. And if he can accept me for all that's wrong with me, I can accept a wayward hole for giving me some exceptionally good times with him.
(breaking news: CHAOS IS A COMPLETE SAP)