Yes, I am happy with being trans.
I want to be
me. I've been searching for the real Me ever since I got out of my parents' house and the Ante-Bellum South, and I'm realizing that that Me is trans, probably more trans than I realize. There's a joy in getting closer to that Me that really leaves everything else in the dust.
Not that there aren't downsides.
* I hate looking like a fat middle-aged (male) salesman.
* There's a certain amount of crap you get, though far less than I expected.
* And there's a lot of
internalized crap to get rid of.
But, honestly, the hardest stuff I have to deal with isn't really trans-related at all. It might have had a different form if I'd been born a girl, but it might have been worse.
+ + +
Actually, the closer I get to Me, the more I realize that she is very different from who I've always thought I was. A lot more spontaneous, a lot more emotional and passionate and cuddly. I also think maybe she's a lot more empathic and loving and giving, though that might just be wishful thinking.
I think maybe that's why I cry happy-sad tears when I hear about Jazz Jennings, or CJ (from
raisingmyrainbow.com) or M (from
gendermom.com) I'm happy for those children that their parents are sensitive to and accepting of who they are, and sad for the child of my parents that nobody wanted to know and I never got to know.