I don't have anything exciting to report about my life. (If you're looking for excitement, the "what did you last eat/drink" thread might be more to your taste

)
I'm still seeing a therapist and a separate gender therapist. I'm still on anti-depressants, which don't make me feel better but, like Powdermilk Biscuits, do give me the strength to get up and do what needs to be done.
These days, I'm sewing summer dresses for myself; I've finished one that's not all that interesting to look at, and I hope to finish another one in the next week that's a little "girlier" (pink, blue, with a spring green skirt, and lace around the collar); I'll post a picture when I'm done. Lots of fabric, lots of intentions, but the doing is a lot slower than the imagining.
I'm sort of thinking of removing my beard hair, maybe as a first step towards transition or maybe just so. Even if I never transition, it would be great not to have the hair on my neck and under my chin, the stuff I still shave off because it's uncomfortable and looks yucky. I'm not real attached to the beard, except literally, I only have it because it's easier than shaving and IMHO less ugly than 5-o'clock shadow.
My understanding of myself is moving at a glacial pace. I now admit to myself that I would rather have a female body and don't like my body as it is, and that I've always disliked it. But I haven't decided whether I dislike it enough to go through the agony and uncertainty of changing it and the fear that when it's all done I'll realize I've made a terrible mistake. (Too bad I can't just go to a body shop and pick out a new one.) I still haven't figured out if I
want to live as a woman, or if I'm just sick to death of living as a man and living as a woman seems like the only alternative. Mostly, I just feel meh about everything and can't convince myself that either changing or staying the same will make any difference. Just waiting to get around to being planted....
And yet -- the idea of living as a woman (or maybe it's just my fantasy of living as a woman) seems like living in color instead of living in black-and-white (more like dusty sepia and white) the way I do now. I've tried to explain to my gender counselor what exactly "being a woman" means and why it's attractive, and I can't say anything that makes any sense.
But I look at the women I see on the street, in the subway, on the train, and I find myself envying them. I'm not sure what, exactly, and when I try to figure it out, it doesn't seem to fit with anything I know about women's lives. I envy being able to dress and look cute, pretty, decorative, (maybe even -- dare I say -- sexy?) like I think someone would want to look at me and i would want them to. I wish I could have a body like theirs, not this gross male one. I imagine they're able/allowed to be human, to care and be soft and vulnerable, to be close, in contrast to my experience of my life and of other men, who all seem to be golems, or animated suits of armor, or maybe there are real live souls imprisoned inside, dragged along by the imperatives of their golemish shells (who can tell?) I want to be desirable just for being me (warts and all), like a wildflower or a cute kitten. And maybe to not feel like I have to get up each morning and justify my existence. (And I imagine if any FAAB people have slogged through this far, they'll be saying, "dream on, bro." Or maybe just "you've got to be kidding!")