How did I get here? (Part 1)

I’ve announced that I’m having surgery; I’ve shared general ~excitement~ about said surgery; I’ve talked about how my surgery is related to my identity as a trans/non-binary person. Tonight, I want to shift my focus away from the current moment and lean into the past. This is the story of how I came to understand my gender and, subsequently, begin my current transition…

This is an image of me at the skatepark around age 8 or 9. The tough guy with that go-getter smolder is my old school homie, Alec. I’m the bad-ass-you-don’t-even-wanna-mess-with-me-cuz-I’ll-stare-you-down lookin’ type on the right. From about as early as I could choose my own clothes until about sixth grade I was a self-identified tom boy. I played sports with all the boys at recess, I wore *exclusively* athletic shorts and hand-me-down t-shirts, I despised wearing dresses, skirts, or anything pink, and I kept my hair at a simple, shoulder-length bob, parted down the middle and never tied back.

I could go into more detail here about my experiences as an androgynous kid, and I will in an upcoming post about my gender dysphoria, but I’m taking Helga to the doctor early tomorrow morning to get that foot fungus checked out so I won’t go on too long (I’m sure it’s fine; we looked up a home remedy on Pinterest that’s kept the swelling down). Suffice to say that I was happy and comfortable in my own skin, but markedly different from my peers. I was misgendered (called “boy” instead of “girl”) often and teased every now and then for being perceived as gay. Despite playing sports with the same group of boys daily during recess, I never really fit in with them. And I never fit in with groups of girls either, even on my girl’s soccer teams. While I used to credit that as a manifestation of general, pre-pubescent “awkwardness,” now I realize that it probably had a lot to do with my gender not fitting into the binary environments of my youth.

~~~~~~~~~~~~puberty~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I remember wearing my first bra, feeling tenderness in my breasts, and starting to grow curves in my hips and thighs. I was still wearing boy clothes, only now they were tighter in certain spots and my shorts left elastic marks around my waist. The combination of not fitting into my old clothes and not wanting to be different caused me to shift to a more feminine aesthetic in seventh grade. I was tired of being mistaken for a boy, and I worried I’d continue to be teased for looking gay. I bought myself some skinny jeans and conformed.

…Of course then I realized I actually was gay (Oops!). Then I really couldn’t give away even the slightest of hints, so I piled on more and more feminine layers–I practiced femininity until it felt natural.

This is me before my Junior year Prom. The hottie in the orange gown on the left is my prime-time-big-big-buddy Maddy. I’m the one with large boobs and a confused stare. I let out an audible “Ooh God” when I found this image. Looking at it I am reminded of how much I hated wearing dresses, but convinced myself to like them.

So how did I make it out alive? When did I start moving in the other direction? When I came out publicly, of course! (“Pffft! What are you even talking about?” Another story for another time, Helga, but if you want to know like right now, check out page 4).

After I went and told everyone I was gay (claaaassic Laila oversharing) I had no need for my feminine disguise and the layers started comin’ off. I got my hair cut short, then shorter, then buzzed. I gradually shifted to wearing masculine women’s clothing, and then just exclusively men’s clothing (although most of it was/is ill-fitting).

My process of moving towards a more “classically masculine” (whatever that means) gender expression began at the end of high school and I’m still changing. Each day is better than before; each day I learn something new about myself; I am delighted by every step of this transition. I’m not working with a clear goal in mind, I’m just doing what feels right.

And now I’m having top surgery. Why? I’m just doing what feels right.

Next week I’ll write more in depth about my recent experiences binding my chest, realizing I wanted surgery, and coming to identify as trans and non-binary (that will be Part 2). Also keep an eye out for a bonus post, “Greatest Hits of Laila’s Gender Dysphoria!” coming soon to a blog near you.

Thank you for reading this post. As with all of them it’s pretty damn personal, and it feels nice to be heard.

Laila, aka “Michaeltranselo”