Hi Julia,
Another long-time post-op here (15 years and counting). Like many of us, there are times were I am unhappy that:
A. It took me until age 40 to have my SRS - believe me, I did try doing it at a younger age - I told my parents in 1978 at Age 15 that I was really their daughter (it did NOT go well - they fought me about it until literally weeks before my SRS), and trying to transition at the university in the 1980s was depressing to say the least - there were NO TRANSITIONING resources at the time. It took me 5 years after I started transitioning in 1998 at age 35, to scrape up enough money for SRS. It would have been easier to get married at a younger age (and possibly adopt children to have a family), but hey that's all water under the bridge.
B. I wish I could have been able to get pregnant, and have children. Well, that's not possible, and even if it becomes possible in say 10 or 15 years, it is a moot point. I am already 55, and I would be in my 60s or 70s - way too old to have children.
C. Like many of us, I wish I looked better - but then again so do many cis-women. We can't all look like supermodels (though my mom thinks I am an attractive woman, and I've always had passing privilege).
Despite the three things I mentioned, I have NO REGRETS about transitioning. I was in a very bad place in 1998, when despite not having enough money to see things through to SRS, I decided to transition. It had literally become a case of life and death for me. I was suicidal most of the time (I did some very dangerous things that could get you killed, because I didn't care if I lived or died, and used to run along the shore of Lake Michigan when I was feeling very low, with the express intent of taking off my running shoes if the emotional distress got worse, and taking a one way swim in The Lake [I almost did it several times]), and probably would have been dead by 2000.
I also have absolutely no regrets about having SRS - I was definitely NOT a non-op (I used to cry if I saw my male genitals in the vanity mirror, when I got out of the tub from a bath). In 2002, when I ran out of money, due to taking a huge cut in pay because of corporate downsizing, and it was looking like my worst fear (that I would end up permanently stuck as a pre-op, due to a lack of funds) was coming true, I came the closest I ever came to suicide. I started wading into Lake Michigan for that one-way swim. To this day, I don't know why I didn't do it. I remember standing at the water's edge for well over a half hour crying my heart out - I must have found some inner strength I didn't know I had, that kept me from making my suicide attempt successful. Luckily a year later, the situation improved enough, where by working very hard, and scrimping and saving every penny, I was able to have SRS. As far as I'm concerned, SRS was a lifesaver for me.
Julia, there is nothing wrong with being stealth of that is what you really want (after being out and proud in my last job, I went stealth back in 2004 [when I started my present job], due to getting tired of being known as "the person who had a sex change", who was constantly outed at work by people, who felt it was their "duty" to tell everybody what I did). The thing is though, I always told myself, that I would remain true to myself. I may not be butch, but I'm definitely not girly-girl, and was not about to be that way, just because I thought it "would help me pass or fit in better in society, or validate me as a woman." Sorry, I was not about to be forced once again (like I was forced to live as a man) to be someone I am not, and self validation has never worked for me (I find it to be an empty endeavor for myself). So yes, I ride motorcycles (I have a BMW R1200R naked sportbike), and yes I play guitar (both acoustic and electric), and yes I kept my amateur radio license - they are all aspects of me (along with my love for reading). Many women do those things (as a mater of fact, I have talked to quite a few of them). Are you being true to yourself Julia?
Just some food for thought, and just my opinion - Ellen