I'm not transitioning because I hate my body. I'm transitioning because I want my body to become a home.
When my parents initially separated, my father rented a house for the year it took them to sort out whether they truly wanted a divorce. I spent half of my time in that house, and I hated it. An entire year, I lived there, and it never felt like anything close to a home.
The bedroom of the house I grew up in is very clearly mine. It's a room filled with memories and with little glimpses into who I am. The bookshelf I assembled and the photographs of me over the years and furniture I picked out because I liked it.
The house my father rented, its bedroom was nothing like that. I hated the color of the walls and the position of the bed the full length mirror by the closet. I chose the furniture because I needed to pick something out and those were the first options I saw. I had a couple pictures of my friends and I above my desk, but that was the only way I made the room my own. I didn't bother making it my own, because I didn't care about it.
A year later, we moved and I packed that room into boxes. And I felt nothing but annoyance at the amount of time it took.
That room was a place I existed in, but it never felt like mine. I didn't like that place. I tolerated it. I lived there because I had to, not because I wanted to.
I don't want my body to be like that. I want my body to be a place I feel comfortable. A place that makes me happy. A place I love, that makes me smile when I see it. I don't want my body to be yet another place I live that I never made my own. I want to shape my body into a home.
Transitioning is an act of kindness to myself and my body. I am transitioning because I care about myself.
