It had been quite the journey for me, I have to say. One day, I inexplicably woke up in some woman’s body and didn’t particularly take it well. I simply laid in the bed I found myself in for several days, wondering why this happened to me, wondered if there was a way back, wondering what my life would be now. Obviously this was the first step that we’re all aware of, denial.
Then the second step of things came around, anger. I broke all the mirrors around me, not wanting to see my new face, dressing in whatever male clothes I had if I went out. Often buying beer and swearing at anyone who I felt looked at me too long, often scaring the shit out of people in process.
The third stage, bargaining kind of tied into my anger. I began trashing the rest of the furniture and really whatever I could in the house. Screaming a God or whomever was responsible for this, praying and then closing my eyes only to open them a second later to find fly into a rage. I began to think every horrible thing I previously did was the cause from not using my turn signal to not returning someone’s money that they dropped.
Then the fourth stage hit me hard, depression. Out of nowhere I was simply looking at the empty fridge and the next moment I was on the floor in tears. I began to barely eat, locking my door and not answering it even if someone knocked on it. I just felt worthless and empty, unable to see the point in really anything.
And finally, where I am now, acceptance. I finally began to see the light in things. I dusted myself off, began to clean up the messes I made, began experimenting with the more feminine aspects of the person who I was now’s closet and even got back outside, eventually finding a guy who I was strangely attracted to on one trip to the grocery store. Amazingly he and I hit it off and I invited him to my place later that day for dinner. Although, clad only in a leather jacket I answered the door and as soon as it was shut behind him, let’s just say dinner was the last thing on my mind.