Quote from: KristaFairchild on April 28, 2026, 08:46:48 AMI was assigned male at birth in 1962. For decades, I wore that shell like well-cut armor—husband, father, scientist, teacher. Every chapter looked good from the outside and even internally to me: a marriage built on love, a family I still cherish, a career I poured my whole heart into. On the surface, I seemed at home. But somewhere quieter, under the skin, something was always waiting. Watching. Longing to exhale.
It started as a restlessness—a ghost touch at the edge of my heart. At first, I reached for small, secret things. Clear nail polish some days; the cool weight of a stud earring; clothes just soft and fluid enough to hint at possibility. No one said a word. On those days, the world kept turning. But inside, I was opening—a secret bloom.
With glacial slowness, I grew more femme. Months of agony over choosing almost clear nail polish with an almost invite touch of pink. Tiny hoop earrings. More feminine colored shirts. My heart and mind grew, too.
Ten months ago, this quiet call became a tidal wave. I could not keep it contained. I told my close friends and LGBTQ+ friends, then my wife, my children. It was terrifying and I wasn't sure I believed it. I started letting the mask slip with more friends, with colleagues, finding myself surprised at each moment of kindness or, sometimes, silence. Every conversation was a collision—heart racing, hands shaking, voice breaking toward the truth. But then, after, I would feel my jaw unclench, my body settle, and for a moment, the universe would go silent and wide. I breathed out, and it was my own name on the exhale.
This is me. Her name - MY name - is Krista.
I haven't started hormones and I rarely express the way I want to, with breast forms, skirts, and wigs. Sometimes I still flinch at old doubt. But there is a new current thrumming underneath it all—something true. Sometimes I am terrified, sometimes giddy as a teenager, sometimes just so soft I want to cry for both the fear of what's next and for the miracle of finding my own skin, at last.
I'm tired of hiding. This blog is the opposite of hiding. This is where I let you—and myself—see Krista, not just in milestones and bold steps, but in the tiny, ordinary moments: the right shade of lipstick, the swing of earrings, the sound of my own laughter in a room where I am no longer alone.
I use she/they pronouns. I don't have everything figured out, not by a long shot. But I do know: every day I choose truth, my world gets bigger, softer, wilder, and more possible.
Here is what it feels like—moment by moment, breath by breath—to become.
When I started this blog and posted this at the end of April, I could not anticipate what would come next. I knew the direction I was going, but not the details and part of me wondered if I would ever arrive. I wasn't sure if my wife would accept me as Krista. I was still terrified of presenting as a woman. I was equally terrified that if I did present, this woman that I would look absolutely horrible and ridiculous.
I can't remember exactly when I came fully out in public, but it was something like three weeks ago. The biggest moments have been in the last week. Although there have been a lot of affirmations, there have been a notable number of strange looks. Most recently there was a viral blowup on a Facebook page about me, not because of the amazing work that I do, but because I was interviewed about that work while we're wearing a wig and a beautiful outfit. Although I haven't read the comments, I know a little bit about some of them, and I know how hurtful, cruel, and even dangerous people can be in my area.
Yet , it's not slowing me down at all. i've never felt this good in this right in my entire life. Even when I was moving forward, I didn't know it would feel this good. I would put hope on one side of the scale and fear would go on the other side of the scale. I move forward only because I couldn't find a way to move back.
So despite the rough past few days, I feel amazing. I may not look very feminine, and I may not even look very good, but for whatever reason, my eyes don't believe either of those things. I've done some dress up days and pose for the camera and I can't stop looking at myself. It's like I'm looking at me for the first time. I could easily be completely deceiving myself, but I like what I see in the mirror. I still hate my voice, but we won't go there.
I've been presenting in various levels of femininity for years, but coming fully out has been euphoric. But it's been more than that, it's been warm and safe and affirming. It's made me feel like myself in a way that I never have before. I'm not that trans woman who was suffering as a child or a young adult even. I never felt like I was in the wrong skin. Even when I realized about seven years ago, that I might not be fully male, I wasn't distressed about it.
As I type, I look down at my legs and they are smooth and hairless. I often use just a touch of Sally Hansen leg makeup, and it evens out the tone. It makes me feel like my former legs were never right, but I just couldn't see it.
A few minutes ago, I was watching a TV show in a sweater dress. I crossed my arms and felt my breast forms resting on them and it seemed ever so right. It was like my breast have been amputated at birth, and now they were back. I know there's three things wrong about that last sentence but it just feels like something has been replaced that was missing. I hope estradiol gives me natural ones, but if not, this is fine.
I've always hated people taking my picture. Many years ago, I decided I wouldn't be afraid of it and I would allow people to photograph me, but I can count on one hand the number of photos that I thought looked OK.
Now I'm like a model. I put on my makeup and especially my lipstick and smile for the camera. I giggle and laugh and pout as I pose. It continues to surprise me that when I look at these photos that I like what I see. I keep thinking that I'll wake up and realize that all of this is some kind of a sham, But the opposite is happening.
Just a few weeks ago, I would go out in public with something feminine on, like an extremely feminine blouse with makeup, and feel tense the whole time. Today I go out in that same outfit or maybe even a dress along with my wig, breast forms and bold red lipstick that I've always long to wear. I find myself chatting with people like I always have. I talk to strangers in lines at the grocery store. I smile at people randomly when I walk by them and they smile back. Sometimes I even feel flirtatious.
I definitely have moments when I'm scanning for danger and I'm aware from the recent Facebook incident that there is hatred in my county, But nothing is taking my joy away.
It took me 64 years, but I have arrived at my best self and my most authentic self.
Along the way there have been hundreds of people who liked things that I've said in here. People have clicked things and quoted me and supported me. This accelerated my process and I am ever so grateful. Thank you, friends!
