While my official transition date was April 1, for me it feels like it was really October 12, because that was the day I no longer needed to pretend I wasn’t going to transition. It became a matter of when, not if.
My ex moved out, I became a part-time single parent, and I started a new job. The rest of the last year was also busy.
There was the intense relationship that fizzled, transition at work—the last place I wasn’t out, finalizing my divorce, and being asked to leave my job a few months ago.
Throw in my first Thanksgiving, Christmas, and birthday as myself, dealing with the fallout from an ex-father-in-law that showed up to ‘help’ by trying to proselytize my kids and their cousin and who hightailed it out of town after it was clear that wasn’t helpful leaving everyone pissed off or hurt, marking my first wedding anniversary post-divorce, and now being on the cusp of working freelance.
It’s been an eventful, stressful, and exhausting year!
This is not a complaint. Many of the things that happened have been positive things. It has been a lot to absorb and ride through. Lunch with a friend this week put it all into perspective for me when I confided and confirmed to her my ex’s substance abuse. She looked at me in shock and said, “How do you do it? I’d be a mess.”
I laughed, because I am a mess. I’ve had some good counseling along the way, which has helped.
But I do feel worn. This year has taken its toll on me. I feel older, aged. Exhaustion has felt closer at hand than in times past and feels deeper. My reserves are low.
So I’ll keep muddling along in my messy life until it isn’t as messy. I don’t know when that’ll be, but at least I’ll be doing it as myself.