The Longest 18 Inches

I was off of work and enjoying some completely legal Delta 8. The fact that I can write that still makes me giddy as a schoolgirl. I’ve found that marijuana and Delta 8 are better for my anxiety and depression than any pharmaceutical pill. The fact that it just grows out of the fucking ground ready to help me balance my brain chemistry is, basically, a miracle. Anyway, I had a breakthrough moment with my gender identity while I was elevated.

I think the whole thing started the night before, when I had a random dream that my baby momma wanted to get back together… which meant I was still living as a man in my dream. I had a moment of panic and doubt the same way I did five years ago when my marriage ended… am I really transgender? Did I fuck everything up because I like thongs and having tits and sk8r girl outfits?

My Sk8r Girl Self

It hit me while I was sitting on the sofa, vibing to some cool ass music, that I really am transgender. A man would never have those issues. The Delta 8 let that fact sink the longest 18 inches (that’s what she said) from my mind to my heart. I looked at my girlfriend and said “I really am a woman” which she responded to by looking at me like I had said that the sky is up.

I texted m’girls back in Louisiana and told them what I had internalized. I also admitted that I had felt like I was one step outside of our circle of friendship… like I was a charity case in the girl squad. They all told me they just saw me as one of the girls which made me happy as fuck.

I also realized that I am femininity. It’s not some goal to achieve, which is how I had treated it.  Femininity is at my center. It’s who I am. Even without a wig on. Even with the lil’ smoky between my legs. Even with the five o’clock shadow on my upper lip. Even when someone calls me “sir.”

All I’m doing is matching my outside with my inside. And, after 46 years, I’ve finally internalized that fact about myself.

2 thoughts on “The Longest 18 Inches

  1. Hi Darlin! Happy Holidays and all that sh*t! Hope yours was fun. Everytime I read one of your posts I always get a profound sense of pride. I’m so proud of you stepping into who you are and not who everyone expects you to be. That is powerful. And uplifting. And courageous. Never forget that. I did the same after my husband passed. I had to discover who I was. I had spent my whole life being someone’s daughter, someone’s wife, someone’s mother. But I didn’t know who I was. At the time, it was an act of desperation, but looking back I realize just how damn courageous it was for me to do that. I’m fortunate that my family understood, especially my mom. I really miss her now, but I have comfort knowing that she is with me when I need to her.
    So my thoughts for you today are knowing that you have many of us who are here for you. Who are happy for you. And who are just so damn proud of you stepping into your truth.
    Lots of love to you, Shari

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