Imagining the impossible

A few years ago, I could not have imagined coming out onto the streets as a woman. No way. I would have been insane, wouldn’t I? The very thought of it, come on. Everyone would stare at me, I would be attacked, I would be ashamed to death.

And yet, one day it happened. And I haven’t regretted it for a second. On the contrary, I am so happy I did it, and I am proud of myself. And others are proud of me.

Somehow it is strange. Something that once seemed impossible has become reality. A dream has come true.

When I look back, nothing has changed in the world to make that dream a reality. Something has changed in the way I look at those things.

And there were some other unrealistic dreams:

• No way I would ever go into a real shop to buy a skirt.
• No way I would ever ask a salesgirl for advice on eye shadow.
• No way I would ever take a make-up class.
• No way I would ever take voice therapy to sound more feminine.
• No way I would ever have my beard removed.

And yet, in the meantime, it has all happened.

Every time it starts with a dream, a fantasy. A fantasy that seems unrealistic, but one can dream, no? And then that fantasy keeps coming back. It repeats itself. I think about it often. Every day. Over and over again, the same fantasy. And in time it becomes a normal thing. By thinking about it so often, it turns into an everyday thing. It becomes something normal.

And the fear that I used to feel at every fantasy becomes a doubt. And then that doubt shrinks, and faith grows. “I can do this.” “If I want to do that, then I’ll just do that, right?” I’m not sure yet if I want to. But I can only know if something is tasty when I have tried it.

And then I start thinking about it. How am I going to do it? Where will I do it? Who am I going to ask? Dreams become plans. A little bit of doubt remains, but that is what makes it exciting. It gives me some adrenaline. Then there is the courage.

And I do it.

It happens.

All the happiness hormones are produced.

And I feel. “Yes. This is good.”

—

And then the next dreams appear in my mind.

One of them is: “I’m going to work in a dress.” A year ago I would have said, no way, but I’m beyond that phase now. Now it’s a dream. I fantasize about it. Every day again. I keep thinking about it until it is a normal thought. Sometimes I put on a dress, look in the mirror, and imagine myself walking around at work like that. There’s no fear anymore. There are doubts. But they are shrinking. It seems less impossible now. One day, I might make plans.

Wondering where I will be when I read this post again in a year’s time.