Accidentally outsmarted imposter syndrome
"You're not *really* trans," is a thing that has, up until this week, beat me up since I came out 4 years ago. I didn't have any childhood memories of feeling out of place, I never had anything that so many other trans folks had to deal with, so it seemed a "sane" argument. But then, one evening, there it was, the thu line. To make this as short as possible, I grew up with severe abuse and neglect, had kids young, raised them in poverty, and now, finally divorced and financially stable, the dust has settled. I can see it so clearly now. Due to the abuse, I was detached from myself. I felt things, but I really didn't *feel* things. My trauma therapist showed me how I smooshed myself out of being. How could I have known? I crushed every part of me to survive. Now I look back: wanting the masculine version of my dead name the whole time, stealing Mom's eyeliner and drawing a beard on my face, not understanding why the other boys treated me differently since I was one of them, then horrible whole body dysphoria starting in my mid twenties, legally changing my name 20 years ago because I couldn't take it any more, then telling everyone I was "in drag" when putting on makeup to go to work as a hairdresser (they used to say in that industry makeup was mandatory: if you don't want to wear makeup, be a nurse), it's all there. Subtle, but there. I was there the *whole time.* I was so there that even my Evangelical sister says, while she doesn't believe trans is a thing, "yeah you've had this mental illness your whole life." "Mental illness." LOL
Ya know what? I'll take that. I have. And now I get to be me. 🏳️⚧️