Disgusting

For most of my life (and I'm almost 50 now), I thought I was disgusting.

It started when I hit puberty. I hated the way my body changed: the shape it took on, the hair growth on my body, the loss of hair over time on top of my head, having to shave... I absolutely felt disgusted by it. Over the ensuing decades, I resigned myself as best I could to the way my body was. I tried not to focus on how I felt about it, but the tension, the dislike, the feeling of disgust never went away. It just became a routine part of my existence.

A few years ago, after a lot of personal soul searching, I finally admitted to myself what I had known all along: that I am, in my mind and spirit, a woman. Even if my body was at odds with this understanding. But I was done letting my body, which I didn't like anyhow, dictate who I was. So I began transitioning.

It has been nothing short of transformative for me. Yes, my body has changed and I love it. But more importantly, I feel connected to my body in a way I never have before. It is now a part of me, and we are whole finally. I have access to a depth and breadth of emotions I never knew I was capable of. I'm more vibrant, more animated, more... me. In short, I find that not only am I no longer disgusting, I love my body.

The irony, of course, is that the very thing which has allowed me to stop being disgusted with myself is exactly that which causes so many other people to be disgusted with me. And they are often not shy about telling exactly how disgusting I am. It sucks that I'm finally whole, but all the rest of the world sees is someone who's broken.