One foot in, one foot out.

Photo by cottonbro on

I haven’t posted in a week because I left my last one with the promise of writing a coming out letter to some of my friends.

Needless to say, that didn’t happen.

I was feeling down on my birthday and messaged my friend to hang out to get my spirits back up again. I wanted to tell her. I had ample opportunity to. She told me that her transmasc friend shared a meme that reminded her of me and she searched for ten minutes to find it. See? A great opportunity to just tell her in casual conversation and not have to make a big deal out of it.

But I didn’t.

She also helped me search for clothes for my formal event coming up this week and she asked me why I was sad. I could have said something then.

And again, I didn’t.

I can’t get the words out. I don’t know what I would say, anyway.

“Hey [friend], I’ve been feeling down lately because of gender things that are hard for me to explain to you. Because of how I was raised it is difficult for me to be vulnerable and honest with people but what it boils down to is that I have never felt like a woman and the disconnect between how I view myself versus how the world does (gender dysphoria) makes me sad and withdrawn often. This is something that has been nagging at me for years and is becoming harder to ignore. I don’t know what it means for me at this stage but I thought I should tell you because you’re my friend and I don’t want you to worry.”

Sounds simple but I can’t.

So here I am, in my 27th year around the sun, and still nothing has changed, even though I swore that it would.

It kind of feels I have one foot in and one foot out of the closet with my friends. They have all the pieces of the puzzle and I’m begging that they will start putting them together to see the picture forming because I’m not brave enough to do it myself. I know it’s not fair to put that kind of pressure on them. They may even know and are trying to tell me that they’re supportive (hence my friend’s comments about her trans friend). Or maybe they don’t have a clue.

All I know is that this is the same problem that I had with my first coming out. I would leave bread crumbs and run away until someone got the memo and asked me. I know it’s not a healthy way to go about it.

I’m kind of stuck here, man.