Being openly trans might slightly alleviate your dysphoria. It might even make you more comfortable in social situations when people give you attention. But it won't make you happy. The narrative of be yourself, etc., isn't just somewhat contradictory (I draw a distinction between one's body and one's mind... but even liberal therapists will still coach trans women into buying into sexist stereotypes long out of date ).....
IT'S A CULTLIKE MANTRA.
The trans timeline formula reminds me of the stock plot of an antidepressant commercial, painting a simplistic narrative of a grey world suddenly turning vibrant, where Lexapro helped this individual see the light and play a guitar.
I'm not discounting the value that psych meds have for some people, but think about it: what if you were tasked with making a similar "video" plot using only highlights of your life?
Sure, you can easily paint a narrative using carefully chosen pictures, etc., that you were rarely happy before some big change happened. Maybe it was Lexapro, maybe it was cutting out dairy, maybe it was losing weight, etc., but it seemed, at least at the time, that it helped you, or maybe it genuinely did. Then you carefully choose scenes of you cranking out that novel on your laptop, picnicking with friends, etc. But even if you were happy more often, it's not like you never enjoyed those things before. And it's not like your life is all sunshine and rainbows. And *some* people on a given med might just experience emotional blunting – maybe you don't cry as often, but you might notice that a beautiful day doesn't give you as much simple joy. And not all weight loss methods are healthy... and you can easily leave out the time you were in an anorexic rehabilitation facility.
Now let's tweak the formula some more. Let's replace the lifestyle change that has a clear health benefit with something that maaayyyy have some medical and psychiatric aspects, but is ultimately cosmetic.
Something that is ultimately measured by the eyes and minds of onlookers.
Something that mostly gives the illusion of a transition.
Then you're convinced that the fact that you're enjoying social situations at all, and that you're comfortable smiling in photographs, means you're happier overall, even when these people mostly have little in common with you except being LGBT or maybe liking a few of the same movies/bands/shows. But the euphoria might give you a fleeting joy of sorts, but it doesn't give you the same satisfaction as building/writing/creating something. Creative hobbies satisfy you with the fact that you completed something, while enticing you with opportunities to diverge, improve, or question the status quo. Getting dolled up for social media pics does the opposite. You don't really reach a point of satisfaction (except maybe when doing makeup, which is itself creative), and are enticed with the idea that if you keep doing what you're doing, the dopamine will keep on coming.
Then you forget about why you didn't smile in pictures, and all the things that brought you joy before, that you may have felt scared of doing anymore because they were male-typical interests (never mind that you might be able to make a career out of some). Your therapist, as gender-radical as they might seem, might actually be a bit gender conservative when justifying the pointless societal norms placed on men and women – even those that have been abandoned since at least the 80s.
And maybe, the only evidence of you wanting to be trans at an early age was a memory that I think might have just been me afraid of growing older and developing rough skin/stubble – plus a picture of you when your cousin dressed you up as a girl for fun. And you did have some passing trans thoughts with Ripley's, TLC channel (which i personally think fueled my endosomatophilia thing more than anything else), or news reports on Thomas Beatie. Maybe you were a music buff familiar with Wendy Carlos (who trans synthheads think practically invented synth music...), or your mom let you watch Jerry Springer, who knows. But those thoughts, while strong, were passing.
Maybe puberty made you uncomfortable... THAT'S AWKWARD, GROSS, AND UNCOMFORTABLE FOR EVERYONE, YOU LITTLE ASPIE FREAK! And even then, the first time I really felt semi-strong trans thoughts beyond "wouldn't it be nice" was finding out about the selective service as an eighth grader... and that's the only government agency that doesn't recognize transitions. Plus feeling sad I couldn't hit high notes, not because I wanted a feminine voice (though I did mentally "morph" that story about choir a bit).... but because high notes just sounded more pleasant to me and I wanted to sing like TOM DELONGE OF BLINK 182 and most pop singers of the 80s through today.
And a testament to my ignorance is the fact that I thought that puberty was a more radical process for young men than young women... because men grow taller, get broad shoulders, stink more (I've ridden the LA metro... what a lie), get thicker body hair, lose their high notes, and get hornier. A fact that speaks to my hubris, one that is reaffirmed mentally whenever a close female friend brings up her period and I don't know what to say without sounding odd.
And then you really were upset at the idea that statistically speaking... the people you're attracted to not only statistically have less in common with you, but often buy into slightly antiquated, but still common, ideas of manners. That you will have to keep your guard up, let your genitals determine your place on the sidewalk, pay for every meal, and open her car door as if it's the same to her frail body as opening a walk-in fridge is to yours. That she probably won't approve of you making a single room of the house "not nice" by working on DIY projects. That she'd disapprove of major tech purchases because they don't match the decor. That she'd never play video games with me, or even sperg out about microchips and the signal theory of digital music technology. That I couldn't even casually cuss in front of her without it being interpreted as anger. That if she did pursue stem, it'd mostly be out of money, and not out of any genuine passion for modern marvels. That she would hate my music because her ears are more sensitive to 3k tones even at low volumes. That her sensitive ears meant I could wake her up at night by typing in the next room. That she'd be VERY social (I was under the impression that women were automatically more social than men)... and that she'd expect me to make pelvic thrusts during sex instead of just using our hands... I guess i was so much into computers that in my ideal FWB relationship, we'd essentially operate each other like electronic devices, like using "mice and trackpads" while staring at our "screens" and "dialogue boxes", and maybe admiring our "specs".... But maybe blaming computers for my sickness is like blaming YardHouse for my old friend's DUI. I think you know where this was going...
but ultimately... that she does let loose around her girlfriends... and she'd respect me as a fellow woman if she did share these interests.
And then the passing thoughts get strong, and your brain back-paints your dysphoria as an explanation for everything, even your autism, and you start to believe people who think you were unhappy then. You even start to think you might be some sort of asexual who has sexual thoughts, but feels uncomfortable with the thought of role-based sexuality or the full-contact game (note to past self: you were right. But would you have been right if you didn't get addicted to what I think was ultimately platonic intimacy + medical porn?).
The name you would have chosen personally for your transition became the name you WILL have, but were chickened to at first when you ended up feminizing your birth name (but you eventually do change it to that name)... well, it wasn't that big of a leap, considering the nickname you went by earlier in transition was contained within the phonemes of your new name.
And while the dysphoria would have gone, no one really prodded you about your interests, or questioned why you forced your personality to do a 180. Maybe antipsychotics inhibited me, but it's not like my thoughts were radically different... though I felt victim to even more social pressure once a YouTuber commented on my first trans timeline... and said my autism meant I had an extreme male brain... and that I didn't strike her as anything feminine. I actually think she had several points.... I'm basically a "tomboy". But I felt I had to be even more feminine, and even more social, since at the time, it didn't occur to me that women could be true introverts. But I could tell you one thing.... I am an attention seeker.
But I had all the pictures I needed to make a trans timeline.... and the rest was history.
One more lie I believed until I transitioned....
"women don't get pee on toilet seats"
Girl, was I wrong.
okay. Hi, i'm natalie.
I have pretty nuanced feelings about all this, and no real regrets, yet misgendering doesn't seem to bother me like it used to. A customer service rep calling me sir doesn't even faze me. I note it, move on, etc. Sometimes, I like to joke in my head that they come from an alternate culture that takes a purely empirical look at the world, much like how I thought I did as a teenager who'd watch atheist videos on YouTube.
i do, however regret being fake.
