I forget that I was anything other than who I am now, but my memories terrible, so that might have something to do with it. If I see old photos of myself I stop and think, "Was this really me?" and I suppose the answer is both yes, and no. Yes, I experienced the things that that person went through, but that wasn't really me, that was a pretence that I had grown up believing was real life.
There is a peace which comes from moving on from your past, and sorting things out in your head, and I think that comes differently for everyone. For me it happened when I sorted through the scant few photographs of my childhood, putting them in order, finding little indications that I had always been male. Maybe I was just looking for them and seeing things that I wanted to see, but it was enough for me. I laid them out, put them in order, and then hid them under my bed. A few months later I was cleaning out my room and threw them away without a second thought; that was the past, and I am who I am now.
You should be proud, because you've come through this, your being yourself, and you're being happier for it. And merlin knows that you've done better than I have.
