To intro this blog, I’m transfem. If you’re out of the loop on LGBTQ terminology, this is when you were asigned male at birth (AMAB), but want to be a woman. While this definition is short, that’s on purpose, becuase the term Trans can mean a lot to a lot of people. I, personally, choose a more traditional meaning through actively taking steps to make myself look/feel/appear more feminine in my daily life. Not everyone you meet who’s transfem will follow this sentiment, so rememebr to be respectful to those who aren’t ready to be themselves yet.

Now, my “egg” was created (most trans people are referred to as eggs) back in middle school, around sixth grade. While I didn’t actively try to make myself more feminine, I came to terms with the fact that I wished I was born a girl, and left it at that. While over time I’d have more and more personal reasons to transition hormonally, I gradually developed a uneasyness towards myself and my sexuality.

The first event that made me swing from “I don’t want to attempt this” to “maybe I’ll try” was freshman year of high school, when the first person I had dated was a Transmasc dude who I will not name. He was nice, and I was too distant to make it work. However, he had been on testosterone since he was 12, which was insane to me, because the thought of someone my age transitioning was unheard of. This caused me to start wondering if it was possible for me to live the dreams I’d had, of being a girl.

After this point, though, I still didn’t want to deal with it. While I had tried on my mom’s clothes at some points, and wondered what it’d be like to wake up a girl on many occasions, I never changed. My style and personality was extremely bland, and made me bottling up these ideas more possible. However, things would change Junior year.

Junior year of high school, I had started hanging out with someone from my robotics team. While I had talked with them for a long while, I never considered them a friend until that year. Early in the FIRST season, we’re talking about our experiences in childhood, and they bring up something about wanting to transition when they turn 18. I bring up that while I don’t think I will, I have always wished I was born a girl, and still regularly dream of waking up as one. I may not remember much, but one thing I do remember from this conversation is how they looked at me. A small smile, and eyes that still capture me, eyebrows low, looking at me like they were about to tell a joke. Then I made the stupidest decision I’ve ever made; I told them that “I probably won’t though, it seems too hard.”

After that point though, it didn’t seem as hard as I had thought. The seed was planted. Over the next two years that sentiment went from “nah, not yet” to “maybe when I get out of college” to “alright, I’m trans, but maybe when I’m out of college still” to “I want to transition when I can in college.”, and finally ending off with “I’m getting Estrogen the 29th”. While that girl I met in robotics has been there as one of my only friends for this long, I don’t blame her for my choice, because she never forced any of it onto me. She did blow on the kindling under the bonfire though, but it wasn’t lit by her.

I now sit in a weird in-between, having not cut my hair in a year, buying more and more feminine clothing, and exploring sides of myself sexually I never would have dared, all while patiently waiting on the one thing I need: Estrogen. I feel happier when I see the Girl in me express herself, when I get called a “her” or a “she” my stomach does backflips. When I get to see myself in the mirror, though, I don’t see me. I see a girl that’s pretending to be a guy for her parent’s sake, and it brings me joy to think that one day that won’t be a problem.

I would like to thank a few people for their help in this. Noteably, my freshman roomates in college who didn’t give a fuck what I did, and Lucy, the girl who cracked my egg. Y’all are the reason I’m still on this earth, whether I want to be or not.