The thought and memory came to me on what the process was like for me to conclude I want to live childfree. This was a very big deal for me for a very long time. The thought was hard to grasp/accept, because in my childhood world, no-one who mattered did not have children, or they were sad because of it. My idea of adulthood was essentially connected to being parents, I could only conceive of adult persons who were parents (and who ran the risk of becoming gendered by it, no matter their intentions). I expected strongly that I must have some inborn longing to have children that eventually will make me sad if I do not satisfy it. Or else, that life without it will leave me lonely and unloved when all others have nested or died and no-one will want to spend time with me.
So it seemed like a very hard path to take, very risky and costly, and at the same time, I was aware that we _do_ make decisions towards it all the time. When choosing how otherwise to live, who to become partners with, how to plan things, whether or not to make preparations and adjustments to allow for being a parent; it was never just a remote decision, it was a decision active in the present. I felt brave and scared identifying as childfree, fearing it was just a phase, feeling that it was always questioned (even when it was not), and it was listed prominently in all my dating site profiles; relationships almost ended over it at some points.
At the same time, what did I really know? I could feel somehow that yes, I want the freedom of self-determination in my life, might need it, from recognizing how horrible it would be not to have time for myself, or from the inevitable gendering. But these are all projected feelings about some future, nothing that is salient in the present. At the same time, there were all those other factors. How the great values of my grandfather and mother would not be passed down along with me, the end of my last name at some point, making my parents sad (though they try not to show it), not getting to be a proud parent of cool teenagers, plus how much I care about the well-being of children. The political fear that I somehow contribute to kind and smart and hubristic people not having children, whereas more callous and less progressive people might. All those things. Could I really be sure of what I would feel like, whether my feelings and wants are consistent enough, thorough enough, complete enough? Did I just imagine, did I just fool myself, was it just a phase or an idea I had latched onto?
This eventually sort of resolved. I realized there were enough other people with similar wants that I stopped worrying that I would be alone or unloved, at least most of the time, the worry is lessened. I got old enough that it felt as though the decision sort of has been begun to be made already. And perhaps I just got self-assured enough to shuck the need for perfect certainty and act on my impulse, that weird, hidden, shadowed factor inside me being evident mostly in my actions.
Now, the questioning on whether to transition reminds me of this in many ways. It too is inconceivable and impossible to understand from the perspective of the world I came from. My parents and others around me, even if accepting, will never understand how I can want it. The world will always tell me, and I myself will echo it, that I am taking a huge risk, that I am banking on how I will feel under circumstances not even here yet, following from intersections of myself and the world. Similarly, I find conflicting thoughts and emotions and wants, with the choice itself feeling vast and distant and abstract. And similarly, there seems to be an inclination within me to take the step nevertheless. I wonder if similarly I shall, and shall find it brings the satisfaction I sought, and thus find greater certainty post hoc?
lost in transition 