I'm sitting here after midnight typing away with the knowledge that in three days I will be in Thailand and that four days later I will be lying on a hospital table having my reassignment surgery. Excitement started growing several days ago before which I was looking forward to my operation but I wasn't feeling excited. But recently, I have felt the excitement welling up inside me with the approach of something that I have been looking forward to. Realisation of the permanence of the procedure sank in a few days ago and I have been wondering if I will miss it after it's gone. Perhaps this will only make sense to those who are, like me, hoarders.
Holding some strange plastic shaped object in my hand while tidying up, I try to identify this little artefact. It seems to be part of a toy that I once had, the location of which I no longer know. Memories begin to attach themselves to this worthless piece of plastic until I find myself looking for a place to store it. I know I'm not going to need it and I know I will never use it again. In fact, I'll probably never look at it again but, for some reason, I am unable to throw it away so I put it into a container and into a box of toys which I am similarly unlikely to play with again.
I wonder if this same logic is causing me the turmoil that I am going through now. There is this silly thing that I will never use but reminds me of who I was and that stands in the way of me fully realising who I want to be. I am looking forward to the new me and yet I worry.
What if getting rid of it is a mistake?
Is that doubt? I believe that I will always be Filly from hence forth and I cannot see myself transitioning back. Yet that fear still remains like leaping into the unknown. Dare I trust in my own judgement and my own desires. My judgement has let me down so often before that I dare not trust it for so many things, yet why do I go with it now?
I am excited, yet I am scared. Anxious and so very scared. So very, very scared. Only time will tell whether what I am doing is correct.
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