Talking to Myself

This is a weird post. WELCOME TO MY BLOG!

What follows is a conversation I’ve had in bits and pieces over the last couple of years. Some of it with other people. Some of it with myself. A lot of it with both.

During the last few days it’s been sinking in. All my reasons for waiting, for hiding, for running – every excuse I can come up with is bullshit.

Pure, smelly, still-warm bullshit.

Time to get real. These, dear friends, are the voices in my head.

Ashley talks to herself:

I can’t be trans.
Why not?
It’s not what I’m supposed to be.
Says who?
It’s just how I was raised.
So … your family?
Yeah, I guess.
Lemme get this straight. You don’t even talk to your family. They’re horrible to you. They always have been. And you can’t be YOU because of them?!
Fair point. But I still can’t be trans.
Look at me.
I see you.
I look like a guy.
And … ?
My shoulders are broad. I’m too tall. I’m already losing my hair. I mean, seriously. I don’t look like a girl.
Have you seen women? They come in all shapes and sizes.
Yeah, but this is a really male shape and size.
No offense, but that’s pretty stupid.
No it’s not! It’s scary. I don’t wanna be an ugly woman!
News flash. No woman wants that, and we’re all afraid of it. Welcome to the club, chica. What else you got?
I’m losing my hair.
Wigs. Or not. Who cares? Next.
Money. Transitioning is expensive. Just getting the hair zapped off my face is thousands.
So are cars. You managed to get one of those. Save. Make smart financial choices. Work hard. You’re smart. I doubt that’ll hold you back if you don’t let it. Gimme another.
I’ll be a freak.
You ARE a freak.
People will know. They’ll … laugh at me. They’ll hate me …
Who will?
All people?
No. But a lot of ’em. Some of ’em, at least.
So, does everyone you know love everything about you now?
*laughs* No.
You look “normal-ish,” though.
People are rotten.
That they are. But there are people who don’t like you right now. Even trying to fit in, you’re not pulling it off 100% of the time.
Yeah, but people will judge me.
No one judges you now?
Different people, I guess. For different things.
Ah. So, you’ll trade out. Why is that bad?
I don’t want to be judged or hated.
But you already are. And if you’re authentic, the people who stand by you will stand by the REAL you. Isn’t that better?
Yeah. But it’s still scary.
Life is scary.
It’s just a lot. It’s a weird issue. It’s a lot to try to sort through.
Maybe. But everyone has weird shit. And we’ve talked about all the parts. Is there more?
The risks. Like if I have anything medical done. It could be harder to find a job. It’ll definitely affect my love life. My whole life. It’s like shifting my entire world.
It is. From a lie to the truth. From a mask to the real you. From a reality you clearly don’t like to another. Will that other reality be perfect? Of course not. But come on. Nothing’s perfect. You’re a big girl. You know that. If you’re waiting for perfection, you’re going to be waiting a while.
You’re right.
Of course I am. I’m smart.
Yeah. A smart ass.
Better than being a dumb ass.
True. Okay. So what now?
Start taking steps. Baby steps. Tell people. Take chances. Brace for loss. And for gains. Some people will hate you. Some will love you. And you’ll be fine.
You really think so?
I do.
We’re in this together, kid.
Yup. And it’s gonna be great.