Today is my 6th month anniversary of admitting to myself that I am transgender.
I went to bed at about four in the morning on Thursday, October 3rd, 2013, after a week of similarly late nights. One of those nights, I had stayed up to watch Romeos, a moving 2011 German film about a young pre-op transsexual man. I finished the movie not long before sunrise, feeling oddly emotional. I put my hands over my chest and wondered what it would feel like to have breasts. I forced myself to go to sleep.
On Thursday morning, however (well past the definition of Wednesday night by that point), I fell asleep with the quiet finality of always having known but only just admitted the truth: that I was, that I have been, that I shall continue to be, and that I am transgender.
I woke up later, calm, ate my breakfast of tostadas con dulce de leche, té, y una banana como siempre, and sat down at the coffee table in the living room to write the first draft of what would become my coming out letter.
I sent it to five of my closest friends before going on what now had become an ill-timed first date with an Argentine I had been talking to on OkCupid. I had never dreaded a romantic possibility so much before but felt bad at the thought of cancelling since it had already taken us a month to get together at this point.
He was a perfectly lovely individual, well-educated and well-traveled, and we discussed innocuous nonsense in the too-cushy leather chairs of a café cerca del Palacio del Congreso de la Nación Argentina. He suggested I come to a club with him later that night. I told him probably not. We never saw each other nor spoke again.
I continued on to my Spanish class where I smiled and nodded and probably cracked some jokes for three hours about grammar or una novela or God Knows What. I was just trying not to panic.
It’s remarkable how humans can carry themselves in times of great distress.
It’s remarkable the ways that humans will pretend to be fine.
It’s remarkable that I made it through that day unscathed, and the following ones as well.
It’s remarkable that it’s already been half a year since I self-actualized as a human being.
It’s remarkable to be alive.