I look at this photo and I remember how hard I was trying. I smiled. I posed. I told everyone I was finally happy. But the truth is, I wasn’t. I was exhausted. Disconnected. Numb. I thought transitioning would fix me — or at least shut something off inside me. And for a while, it did. But underneath it all, I was falling apart. Quietly. Alone. I didn’t need a new identity. I needed someone to ask me why I was in so much pain. But no one did. Everyone just clapped and said I was brave. This photo hurts. Not because of how I looked — but because I remember how badly I wanted it all to mean something. And it didn’t. If you’ve ever felt like you had to perform being okay — just to be accepted — I see you. You’re not alone. I wish someone had told me that back then.
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