Shattered Into Tiny Pieces

So last weekend meant a temporary return to the male me. I will not lie, I found the three days horrific. As a Transwoman I have found contentment and confidence. So it was sort of debilitating to find that confidence melt away like so much snow, just because of how I had to present to the world. For the first time in a long time, I experienced anxiety and even fear. I’m not at all afraid to admit that I was scared though. I simply was. Mostly of being in my own skin, without any armour. With a face of makeup I am comparatively unflappable and can deal with whatever my day throws at me. But I’ve apparently forgotten how to just be a guy. Which is essentially a good thing. The positive to be taken is that I am surer than ever I have made the right decision. The last two years have let me grow into a skin that’s genuinely comfortable to me. My last few days were anything but. Sort of distressing, difficult to manage but ultimately worthwhile. I can now move forward with the same confidence that weekend was so desperately lacking. And safe in the knowledge that I never want to do that again.


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