My wife has, on several recent occasions, made me doubt my desire to transition. One of these occasions was when we were on vacation, in Ocean Isle Beach, NC. We were at the beach, and she asked if transitioning is what I really want, or if my therapist put it in my head over the past few months.
She got in my head so bad that for three days, all I thought about was what she said. it was infuriating, and confusing, and troubling.
Finally, two nights before we left to come home, I just walked away.
I walked over to the ocean at 11:30 at night. No light, no companions. Just me, a blanket, a billion stars, and the sound of the surf.
And, of course, my thoughts.
8 months ago, there is no way I could have laid on an empty beach, in the middle of the night, alone with my thoughts. I would've been much too afraid of myself.
This might be obvious, but as I stared into the stars for over an hour, having a hundred internal conversations, I realized that I don't want to transition.
I need to transition.
Every nerve in my body, every thought in my head that night told me this is the right decision. I've never had more clarity in a subject in my life.
Now, I just get to wait. And wait. And wait.
