So, today started out kinda well...
I had a job interview planned for the afternoon. I woke up, had a shower, shaved my arms and legs, dried my hair, put on some deodorant...
I just had to admire my soft skin, so I posted my legs on Lemmy 😆
I was feeling good. I decided to wear a black hoodie and my black jorts (black clothing, black heart 🖤, or something). Also, my lucky red panties for some reason lol. I don't wear a bra, since it's uncomfortable and my boobs aren't that big yet anyway (but they're getting there!)
My freshly shaved legs were completely exposed...but I didn't care. I felt good about myself. And then happily started my journey to the mall, where the interview took place.
Some people stared. I didn't care at all tho. I just went on with my life as usual. Just, normal me, don't mind me people 😄.
When I got to the mall, I made a quick restroom stop, to fix my hair and apply MOAR deodorant, not because I smelled bad, but because I like the smell 😆 (it's raspberry, my bf picked it out for me).
I arrived at the store for my interview (it's a clothing store). There were lots of people, young people, which made me a bit nervous...but I carried on. The staff (or manager?) took me into a room in the back and we sat down. He was extremely friendly and fun to be around. Handsome too 😊
I was to tell him about myself. I mentioned programming, reading, having a bit of social anxiety and trying to find a way to fix it (by working at a clothing store, I mean) and also transitioning. He was understanding, but after some talking, he told me they needed someone more accustomed to working with people (they're very busy). He told me it might be a too big of a shock for me and my anxiety, and I agreed...so I said goodbye, smiled one last time and left.
I didn't feel too bad. I didn't expect them to actually hire me, so I was prepared. It didn't bother me.
What did bother me tho was what came next...
A call from grandma. Asking me how I was doing (she knows I've been really struggling with dysphoria and depression, especially in the past couple of months). I told her I was doing better and that I had just had a job interview.
She's nice, but old...
so I got misgendered in every sentence.
So, when it started to really hurt, I gently corrected her. She basically said that she was old and struggling with "my new pronouns". She tried to use the correct ones the rest of the call, but it felt forced and honestly, she did pretty poorly.
I wasn't mad at her. I get it, it's really hard. But I've been out to her for a long time now...it just hurt a lot.
So I sat down on a bench, mind spinning from dysphoria. I texted my bf, which I thought might help me feel better...
it just got worse.
He basically told me "Oh, just speak in a higher pitch and yell, she'll get it soon enough" (because voice gendering is all about pitch, right?). That honestly hurt me more than anything previously had that day...
It felt almost like betrayal. Like the person closest to me, the love of my life, having zero understanding or empathy for me during a tough moment...
I was pretty shaken up. My dysphoria started getting worse. The outfit, the one I had thought looked so good on me in the morning...suddenly I thought I looked like a hooker, waiting on a bench for my client. Even worse...I thought I looked like a gay cis male prostitute.
And so I started crying while also walking home. I felt really bad. Soon, the wind picked up and I put my hair up in a ponytail. It was more practical that way...
But as soon as I got into the elevator in my apartment building and I saw what was in the mirror...I started crying even more. I HATE how my face looks with my hair put up...it's so different. So much...uglier, more masculine.
Sobbing, I got back home, to our apartment. And the wifi had died...an issue on the provider's side. I tried to fix it, but I couldn't do anything...
This was the bitter cherry on top for me. The day had started so well...and now turned to crap, as it often does when it starts a little too well.
I just had enough at that point, so I had a couple of candy bars and hugged my Blahaj to sleep.
Today sucked. A lot.
Things that I shrugged off pre-HRT can really upset me know. But even so...I wouldn't change a thing. I'd never stop taking E. Because I like having emotions, the good, bad and ugly. I don't enjoy being an emotionless zombie, like I was pre-HRT.
I can cry. I can let it out. HRT is the greatest gift life has bestowed upon me and I am forever grateful.
So I guess I just wanted to say: some days suck. Some days are great.
But...with the correct hormones, I feel like life is worth living. Life can be hard, but boobs are soft 😆
Take your meds girlies. I wish you all a better day than I had today. Love you all 💜