Recently I got rid of the very last of my girl stuff. This was really just some underwear and bras. It took me a long time to finally get rid of it all, even though I hadn’t worn it for probably a year or more. I think it was more a hang-up over the bras, because I still do have breasts so there was this fear lurking somewhere inside me that I would need them for something. I don’t know what, though. I will confess that I did keep one, just in case. I can’t completely banish that fear. Maybe I’m just hoarding sports bras. Oh, who knows. It’s been interesting – my little departures from my life as female. I think we’re all a little resistant in some ways to certain changes, even if we know they’re exciting and good for us.
Although it’s hard to not physically look male in really any ways and to get called the wrong pronoun all the time (called “she” instead of my preferred pronoun, “he”), I am trying to find value in the space that I am in right now. There is something really special about that space, that gap in time when you are poised between the person you were and the person you are becoming. The Buddhists think that this is the only way you can live happily: exactly where you are in the moment. Maybe they’re right?