I had an endocrinologist appointment this passed Wednesday. She was amazing, didn’t ask for proof that I was trans, didn’t freak out when I eventually fessed up to having been suicidal in the past, encouraged me to find a therapist but didn’t make treatment contingent upon that, helped me figure out a way to deal with two other doctor’s offices that appeared to be giving me trouble because I was trans, and so on and so forth. A couple hours later my blood and urine samples had been taken, and now I’ve got another appointment with her this coming Wednesday.
And now it’s hit me how big this is. How drastic. Transitioning is real now. It’s big and it’s scary. The part of me that is always afraid of change is louder now, shouting that I don’t have to do this after all, that maybe I can just change my name and live half way.
I know it’s not an option. I know it’s just insecurity. I’m afraid of change. I’m afraid of getting what I want. I’m afraid of trusting myself with this kind of decision. Transitioning is the right thing to do.
But the size of it!