As a child, I would fantasize about not being trans. Not that I’d fantasize about “really” being a boy. Rather, I’d imagine what life would be like if I were “really” a girl. I dreamed about developing along with the other girls, growing breasts and body hair and geting my first period. About sleepovers and braiding hair and bikes with streamers on the handles. I didn’t imagine a wholly different life, in a different city or with different parents, simply the proper life; the life I should have had. The life I deserved. Too much normality is boring, but I was dying to feel a bit more like everyone else.
I’ve revisited this question from time to time: Would I wish to not be trans, if given the opportunity? I wrote a story about that question last year. I should try and expand that story, since I sort of dodged the actual question. Because the short answer is, I don’t know. If our lives consist of diverging possibilities, the roads not taken, every day takes me further down the road of being trans. Put another way, every day makes my identity as a trans woman a bit more concrete, a bit less theoretical something to consider for “the future.” The future is here, I’m considering The Surgery. Being not-trans, a cis woman, might make my life prior to transitioning more enjoyable, but it would effectively reshape my life since I began to transition into something unrecognizable. Continue reading 'The Queer Body and Healthcare'»