Let me qualify what I said. I've never been very accepting of, well, stupidity and general assholishness. But now I am even less accepting and much more likely to call the other person on it. So my empathy extends only so far.
When confronted with a student who just doesn't "get" a concept or pattern, I have been able to continue the same patience I used to practice, although it is often a struggle. I'm actually more understanding than I was, probably because I'm now keenly aware of what I didn't understand about my own self--the lies I told myself, the self-ignorance that I justified in weird ways. The crap I've been through. How stupid I felt when I realized how much I had kept from myself.
But when confronted with a student who didn't do the assignment because he or she "didn't know" what I meant in the assignment description, my response is now usually, "Why didn't you ask?" When the student "didn't know" that the assignment was due today, my automatic response is, "Why didn't you know? Did you check the schedule? No? Well, now you know what to do next time."
I'll be pretty lenient during the first week or week and a half. After that, not so much. And I have far less patience with people who cut in line at the store, make a lot of noise outside my classroom, and cut people off in traffic.
So I suppose I'm harder in some ways and softer in others. It's a mixed bag.
I think that one reason I hated (and still hate) my mother so much is that she is female and she wanted me to be a female. I was allowed considerable latitude to be a tomboy, but only to a point. Then she started pushing. She was also not the world's nicest person. I didn't want to be anything like her. Now I'm beginning to realize that a lot of this resistance was a knee-jerk anti-female reaction. I was opposed to cooking and sewing for the same reasons--despite Title IX, those were presented as my only practical arts choices in junior high school. I was similarly resistant to anything that smacked of home decorating, although I loved rearranging my bedroom.
Now that I'm mostly transitioned, I still hate cooking and sewing, but I care very much about how my place looks. I spent hours putting together my bathroom. I can do this because I've always been interested in it but never allowed myself full rein because I saw it as a girly thing. Now I see it as a gay thing, and I have fun with it. It actually reinforces my gay identity.
But, alas, I still have the mommy issues.