vortices

Extremely intensive days. I have loved ones near and feel bonds deepen even further. I know myself loved and am deeply safe and happy therein.

Emotional turbulence in some form really is a thing. It seems very clear that HRT mid-term like this makes me cry easier. I love that it does. I now cry from safety, from being moved, from empathy. I can stop it but don’t usually want to. I cry tears without knowing why or knowing why I am sad, and I can’t but suspect that it is related to wherever my missing emotions actually went (assuming they really do exist, and that my relatively neutral state is not human default). Excited.

Beyond support and safety – marching for LGBTQ++ pride was great, though hot and I am glad we did not do the entire route – I also note people looking, and at one point we were directly and clearly harassed by a fervent man speaking transphobic slurs in Russian. I was very glad to have my partner with me. These and other moments make me sometimes feel a dark and somber fear that I always will be read as male, no matter what my efforts. I suppose this highlights that I want to be able to “pass“ even if I downplay the value of that because the concept has some toxicity.

How much will I have to change to get there? How much can a few more years of HRT do? On patches now. How much more can dieting and posture training and voice training do? In the worst case, how much could facial surgeries do? I fear there are angles from which I look extremely masculine, and ways in which my frame does, especially from back. I will do my best, and I will not lose track of all else that matters more all the same. I am loved and I am blessed. Still these things suck. I knew what I was getting into, though, I never assumed I would become able to blend. But the fact of so much going so well so far has made me hope. I will carry two opposing factors in my mind at once and proceed as I must.

Be strong and be kind.