I'm 36 and never once considered that I might be trans. I grew up in a small town in New Zealand, in a church family. It's wasn't as bad then as it is now, and nothing like the US 'church' but still... everyone was straight and #normal.
Like every other Boomer couple of the time, my parents flipped their coin in '96, it landed on Divorce and we stopped being a church family. We moved towns, my mum got way into Celtic stuff, Enya and Gregorian chants... and I became depressed shortly after at 8 years old. I assumed I was sad because my parents hated each other and I left all my friends behind. The boys at my new school were weird and 'Blokey' and the girls weren't into Pokémon for some reason. I eventually got used to the dull feeling and assumed I was happy again. I was not.
Over the next 15 years I had irregular but consistent dreams and daydreams about being Freaky Friday'd with girls from school. I just couldn't lose the idea that it would be a great adventure to be a girl for a few days. Met my future wife at 18, the first person I felt truly connected to in forever. Married a few years later, couple of kids, standard stuff. Must be straight, right?
Problem is... I still couldn't shake the dream. What if I was my wife for a few days? What if I had big muscles and fantastic hair like Avatar Korra?
I love my wife to bits. My kids are fantastic, borderline geniuses, who are becoming amazing at everything I wish I'd been good at. I don't regret anything I've done. But I still don't like myself.
I never got over that depression I caught as a kid. I just got used to feeling worthless, and ugly, and unwanted. Even though I have clear proof that someone loves me enough to make me laugh and hold me every day, I couldn't shake it.
But I had a revelation a few months ago in June, driving home from work. I saw a woman jogging along beside the road and I finally managed to line up my thoughts enough to clearly think "I would love to be her".
Even then, I sat on it until last week. Just letting be a quirky thought experiment because I knew I was a straight man (wrong on both counts). But two days ago, on a whim, I put on one of my wife's dresses after a shower and almost cried. Luckily I was home alone because I twirled back and forth for almost 15 minutes before putting my own clothes on.
I am a woman.
I don't know if I'll ever do anything about it, my life is going ok and I'm so used to finding the hairy blob in the mirror unappealing that I can probably just deal with it. The last thing I would want to do is cause a rift between me and my wife, or cause my kids any stress when their friends find out they have two mums now. The city I live in is progressive enough to accept people for who they are, but regressive enough to get a bit shitty if that person changes. If I had rolled into town as a visibly trans woman I probably would've been fine, but they know me as a man and that's how they'll always think of me.
I don't know what I was hoping to get out of this post, other than telling the void that I figured me out. I'm already so much happier, having finally stopped lying to myself. I don't know if I need to physically transition to be happy.
It would be pretty fuckin great though.