Was it all worth it? Moments of transgender euphoria–
Was it all worth it?
I never thought I wanted this until I felt like I needed it with everything in me, and I would stop at nothing to make it happen.
The depression and anxiety and burnout building up to it were worth it.
The stress it put on my marriage was worth it.
The financial strain was worth it.
The rough spot it put my job in was worth it.
The delay and abandonment of my studies was worth it.
Not seeing friends or socializing much for a year was worth it.
Missing my family for the holidays was worth it.
The pain of loneliness, the physical pain, the sorrow for all we have to endure to live how others take it so for granted– the work of really sorting through that trauma, that was worth it.
Not remembering big stretches of the last year was worth it.
Watching my fitness slip while I must take it easy was worth it.
Post op depression was worth it.
Dealing with snide and resentful co-workers after my return was worth it.
Enduring rumors was worth it.
Putting everything but health on hold was worth it.
The hospital bills are worth it.
The complications are worth it.
The scars are worth it.
The time lost playing with my kids, while they saw me exerting myself in the fight of my life for who I am, it’s worth it.
The times I bickered with my spouse because I was exhausted and hurting, and she had to take care of me– the extra work it required we put into our bond– it was worth it.
All of it. I would do it all again.
It’s just a dick.
But then it’s not just a dick.
It’s a critical part of your health and well-being, if you need it, like my nose or thumb or teeth. It is me and where I, my flesh, should be.
The thought that no one can ever take away the bliss of inhabiting my body– such joyful light I feel within myself thinking on it. My own flesh and blood.