Finding My Happiness Again

In the quest to find my authentic self, there has been been an additional goal:  to find my happiness.  Now 3 years into my transition, I am proud to have found my womanhood, my motherhood, and once again found my heart—all of which contribute to my happiness.

When I began questioning my gender, I was more depressed than I had ever been in my life (even though I was not admitting it to myself).  I had realized parts of my life’s dream.  I had found and married the love of my life.  I was the parent of two beautiful children.  Something was missing, though.  I was missing.

Growing up, I was full of emotions, empathy, and love.  While my family was fractured due to my parents’ divorce when I was two, my sense of family was strong.  On my mom’s side, I had… well, my mom, who was the most important person in my life.  As she raised me the best she could, she encouraged me to be accepting and respectful of all people.  She frequently expressed how much she loved me and how she would go to the ends of the Earth to make sure I was safe and healthy.  On my dad’s side, there was a large stereotypical Sicilian family headed by grandfather.  Holidays were always fun and loud, with 30 or more people crammed into a 2-bedroom apartment and a dinner table that extended into the living room.  Teasing, joking, and brutal honesty were the name of the game, but all comments were heartfelt and full of love.  Influenced from both sides, I developed a strong sense of family.  By extension, I treated friends as if they were family and gave most people the benefit of the doubt.

I was an emotional child.  I cried at movies.  I was super sensitive to having my heart broken.  I was easily taken advantage of as the nerdy, outcast kid.  I had very few romantic relationships, and even then, many bordered on the friend zone.  Still, I was happy being me—or so I thought.  College brought a different set of friends but also increased personal hardships.  My family broke apart further as the older set passed away.  My mom and I suffered a rift when I suddenly moved out of the house after being disqualified from school.  Eventually, I was on my own without a degree or a sense of purpose.

I eventually started turning my life around in my own time, but I effectively wasted 10 years doing before doing any real work on myself.  I found some happiness when I met the woman who would eventually be my wife.  She accepted me for who I was at the time.  She found my nerdiness endearing, my loyalty infectious, and my commitment to love irresistible.  She had strong connections to family, as well.  We were seemingly a good pair.  That pair resulted in the births of two amazing children.  I thought my life was turning around.  The dreams I had as a child were being realized.  I should have been realizing happiness, too.

But there was a hidden, unrealized dream.

The dream of being a woman was one that I feel was suppressed for most of my life.  I did not know when I was 3.  I did not know in school, the 10 years I wasted, or even after I started my own family.  I did not realize it until three years ago.  In hindsight, there were signs.  I missed them.  What was really missing, though, was a love for myself.  I had all of this love for my family, my friends, my children, my wife… but not for me.  The individuality I expressed as a child was muddled.  The emotions I once wore on my sleeve were now hiding behind emotional walls.  When my mom died, I thought it would be the most horrific moment of my life because we were so close to each other.  I barely cried.  I remained stoic, as I had with every other death I experienced in my lifetime.  That was not right.  That was not the real me.  I was lost and did not know it.

When I finally turned the focus on myself, I began to see these things.  I missed the emotional, loving person I was as a child.  I also came to see that unrealized dream I had not even known was there.  Transition made sense.  Identifying as a woman made sense.  My head and my heart read woman—emotional, sensitive, loving, empathetic—the same as my child self.  My jealousy of my wife and her pregnancies made sense.  My desire to want everything a bride wanted at my wedding made sense.  The emotional ties to my children were more motherly than fatherly in my mind.  This is who I was supposed to be all along.

Transition has opened my eyes to my true self.  Living as the authentic me has brought out the woman, the mother, the person I was meant to be.  I am full of love and emotion that I am free to express and not wall off to the world.  I am not depressed because of who I am or what I represent.  I am a woman.  I am a mother.  I am loving, accepting, and wanting more.  I am happier.  I am me.

Of course, life challenges still exist.  Financial, career, and relationship problems are squarely in my purview and need addressing.  But I am once again on the path to dreaming, for that is what I truly am:  a dreamer.

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