Be they good or bad, whether they weigh me down like lead or lift me up like a feather, they are the most prized gift I have received from my transition.
I grew up in a very unemotional family. Practicality, fitting in, playing it safe, logic, were the way of life. As I batteled what I much later recognised as GD during my late teens, twenties and early thirties, I idealised cold logic as the inverse of what I so desperately wanted, but was utterly unable to allow myself.
Characters like Data and the Vulcans from Star Trek suggested that control and denial were a path to conquering the desires I had.
Later I began seeing myself reflected in floored closed-off characters like Dr Gregory House and Johnny Lee Miller's Sherlock Holmes. Separated, outside, maverick, isolated.
Be it simply and finally just giving myself permission to have and display emotions, by the power of HRT, or some combination, the most important thing I wanted to gain from my transition, emotion, has been everything I wanted and more.
Learning to live with and process these has been and still is hard. They are often overwhelming for me, the bad ones and the good ones; but they hold an inifite depth, clarity and resolution that nothing else can offer.
Money can't buy happiness, because it's priceless [emoji4]. X
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