This isn't actually very original to have these thoughts, but I though I'd write in something just to process externally a bit.
So I'm about 4 weeks post-op. It's so new that it's really hard for me to identify with that label as for years and years it was something completely theoretical, a pipe dream in the very distant future. The culmination of a lifetime of processing, mentally, physically and medically.
And now it's done. Well. That's convenient. But it's also quite scary. Because what am I aiming for now?
People say that now is the time to start living the life I've wanted to live. But what does that mean? For the past several years, my life has pretty much been running in the beat of transition goals, doctors appointments and medical procedures that all of a sudden are pretty much past me. My transition is not complete, I don't think it'll even be because identity is an evolving thing and is never finished. But those very easily measurable and calendar-trackable milestones no longer exist.
Very peculiar.