Becoming Simone

I like that red dress. I'd wear that. 😍💗🤪🤭💋

Eight years ago, after years of denial, hours of therapy, and endless sleepless nights, I finally, and grudgingly accepted that I was not the man I and the world thought I was. I was, in fact, a transgender woman.

a transgender woman…

Writing that still ignites an emotional battle inside my head. I know it is right, but I am still poisoned by decades of gender socialization. From birth, I was told I was a guy. For decades, I tried to live up to everyone’s expectations of what a guy was. I was even convinced myself, except I wasn’t, not really.

I did “guy” really well in public, but I didn’t feel “guy” when I was alone, in my soul.

It never felt right.

Six feet tall, muscles, long braided hair, bearded, tattoos up the shaved sides of my head — inspired by Ragnar Lothbrok from the TV show ‘The Vikings’.

I was the type of person people take a second look at in the street. Or cross it to avoid him.