The moment I stopped trying to pass, guess what, the clocks stopped,
well they didn’t matter anymore. I was now just doing what was
comfortable for me, the cosmetics I wanted, my own hair, my own breasts,
my own style. In trying to pass I was trading the discomfort of
pretending to be male with the discomfort of trying to be the woman I
felt everyone else expected.
This post is full of really good words of wisdom, from Beth.....a must read for anyone asking the question, Am I Passing?
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