A Big Step

Next Thursday, on the 26th of January 2023, I am going to come out to my parents with the help of my therapist.

On the same occasion, I will also kickstart the process in my school, settle the necessary matters, and begin living for once.

I realised — not without the help of some material to think about, ahem, Avatar 2 — that, for the better part of two years, I underwent a journey of figuring myself out. Doing this, I believe that I have now reached a point where going alone is not useful anymore.

I can sit at home and philosophise all day, but without gathering real experience, I will not reach my goals.

So this is what I’m going to do. I recognise that I’m lucky in this regard: My family is supportive of trans issues, and as such I’m not at any risk to lose my home over who I am.

I’m not so sure what to think about my classmates at school. If Gen Z is supposed to be more progressive than the ones before, I don’t really see much of it in the broad majority. While I do wonder how I will be seen by then, I don’t think it’s healthy for me to worry about it too much. I don’t have that much to do with them, worrying about it seems like such a non-issue.

I do worry quite a lot. I worry especially about the embarrassing situation of being wrong about everything, having to undo the steps I am about to take, and finding contempt among my peers for being wrong.

I’m allowed to be wrong. Though I’m confident that I’m not, in the case that I am, that is just the path my life has taken. And it seems to be very promising for the time being.

This… is my only life. After this it’s heaven, or hell, or eternal blackness. But nothing will be the way it once was.

Today’s pseudo-philosophical advice to myself is that with every day too scared to improve my situation due to the ramifications it could have further down the line, I effectively lose a day of my life. I don’t want that.

I want to be happy. And I see a transition as a worthwhile way to gain happiness.