I'm not trans

I am not trans. I've never even considered that I might be, although I have spent a lot of time thinking about gender and what it means to be defined by a term.

I'm not trans, but I understand it now better than I ever have. Which is not to say that I understand very well. I imagine that only someone who lives it can really understand.

I'm not trans, but I know what it is to look in the mirror and realize that the person you have in your head isn't the person who really exists; that nobody can see that person but me. And it doesn't make sense to say it out loud, it doesn't make sense to try to explain that I know who I am and I simultaneously don't exist.

The irony, of course, is that this the change is objectively a good one. I've been working toward it, and the success feels good. I don't want to change that, and I really don't want to try to make my outsides match my insides. I just don't know how to fix my head. This fundamental part of who I was, who I still am, who I will maybe always be - except I'll have to *tell* people if I want them to know about it. They won't just know by looking at me, and they should. They always have.

Maybe, with time, my mental landscape will adjust. Maybe my mental picture will start approaching accuracy. That would be good. Objectively, I know that would be good. Despite the pain under my breastbone when I think about it, I know it would be good.

I haven't changed, not really. I'm still the same person, still the same me I always was - except in the ways I'm not. I somehow think those ways are going to get more important as the change gets more dramatic.

I bet there are things I could do to make this easier, to make the adjustment smoother. I'm just not sure I want to.