A Measuring Stick of Standards- Day 17 (January 17th, 2021)

There is no longer such a thing as "too girly" for me. I have spent so much of my life trying to blend in and fit as a man, that it has left me nothing but rigid, uneventful, uninspired and ultimately locked away. In hindsight, the fact that very little was left of me after cutting away all the girly parts should have been confirmation enough that I'm only a male in biological terms.

I will never try to tell somebody I'm all woman... Even when I look the part. More accurately, I'm someone raised in one camp when my true camp was across the way. A camp I could see. A camp I imagined being in often, but was never permitted to stay in. I'd sneak over from time to time, but the threat of being caught was too much.

I grew, the camp members across the way growing too. But they seemed to thrive as I internally shriveled. If only I had been born among them, if only I were developing like they were, if only I was free to be "too girly" instead of held to this strict standard of masculinity.

Being a man when you're fundamentally a woman is immediately alienating. Everything you do is held against a measuring stick of standards and even when you match up, it feels like the effort you had to put in was ten fold to the others. And in my case, it was all done on my own. With my only source of male guidance gone at a young age, I had no one to help me reach the heights. I was convinced I would eventually get there. "Being a husband will get me there!" But it didn't. Instead, I oftentimes envied my wife for the life she got to live. "Surely, fatherhood will do the trick then!" (Nope... And don't call me Shirley.) Though my daughters have given me a world of purpose again, they also became a spotlight, showing how fundamentally fractured I was. Moments that should have brought true joy to me were never truly joyful. Even the happiest days came with gray clouds.

I've checked all the boxes of what should make me happy and fulfilled as a man. And still the sheet appears empty. There's no other height I can aspire to reach as this man... And my legs don't want to take another step forward in attempt.

Transitioning to this woman has cleaned the slate in many ways. Instead of a measuring stick always above me, there's now open sky. I embrace "too girly" as a reality for myself, and grow more and more excited at the prospect of living a life where the only boundaries of my self expression are where my moral boundaries are permanently set.