some version of regret

in late 2016, i tried on my girlfriend's bra and put my shirt over it on a lark, and then felt a strange, intense, incredibly scary sensation that i ran away from for almost 10 years. (i've mentioned experience before, in a 2024 post.)

i now know how to process and understand those emotions: it was gender euphoria, a rush of satisfaction and fear and erotic pleasure at a glimpse of how i could look. but at the time, i looked at myself in the mirror and only felt a vague sexual tension and overwhelming terror. i wanted to keep looking, or to touch myself, or to touch her, but i also couldn't actually look at myself, couldn't make eye contact. it was also silly and we laughed it off, because playing dress-up is a classic good time.

since then, most of the time when i've thought about it, it's been in that mode: a silly good time that indicated to me that i really like women. but sometimes, i'd think about that moment and mentally yank back like i was trying to leave an upsetting dream. reminiscent of how if i hold moments of abuse from my childhood lightly, i can talk about them and even make jokes, but if i drop into them, i will burst into tears.

i am so happy to be here now, to have embraced these feelings and this life. in 2024 i wrote "it's like an itch in my brain i keep poking at" and the itch has gone. i don't feel it anymore. it's such a strange thing, to live without the low-level hum in my mind.

but god, ten years. TEN FUCKING YEARS. i spent my 30s living a good and enjoyable life, but i could have lived that life in tune. it's hard to think about the years now without feeling grief or loss for what could have been. i'm here now. i just keep saying that to myself, over and over and over and over. i'm here now. i'm here now. i'm here now. i made it. but fuck!

if you'd started transitioning in 2017, would you have met and married your wife? would you have gotten married and then had the three beautiful babies you have now?

i don't know but that's honestly besides the point. the grief remains regardless of the joy that's followed. our third kid is perfect, a literal angel in toddler form, and yet they're only here because of the miscarriage. i weep for our baby even now. the grief of time lost is life.

i regret my fear. i regret the misspent time. i wish i could go to 2016 noah, tell him to fix his fucking life, to be nicer to that girlfriend, to be nicer to himself, to be less scared, to live wholly and fully.

all i can do now is be better now. i am here now. i can be nicer to myself now. i can be nicer to my wife and children now. i can grow and change and become now.