Hmm. Well, yes I've thought of it. Such thoughts invariably result in, "Quit crying over spilled milk, Richelle." So I pull up my big girl panties, adjust my boobs, check my hair and face and step out smartly.
Okay. Really I just quickly arrive at a list of thoughts:
I wasn't AFAB, so get over it. Don't dwell on "coulda, woulda, shoulda."
I wouldn't be the same person, how could I be? My experiences as Richard defined Richelle over many years. Richelle and Richard coexisted and co-mingled.
I have children that know me as Papa, and still do in spite of appearances, no matter how I dress, I am still the person they know, love...and seem to respect.
I have an adorable yet pragmatic woman as a partner. I am still by her side. Plan to be too, until one of us goes to join the gods.
I allow myself the occasional fantasy of thought. What would it have been like. Yet I'll never know. I won't cry in my beer (which I really never liked any how.) I revel in the now and plan to continue to enjoy the life I'm blessed with.