When I Started HRT, I Discovered a Sweeter Side to My Masculinity
I was leaving femininity behind, grateful to have an example like my grandpa to grow toward.
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I couldn’t stop thinking about what I would do if something went wrong. If I made a mistake, my son and I might go back to being homeless.
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I know that I’m living in a ticking clock, and all of this—dinners with my parents, peaceful conversations—will likely be gone one day.
I want to believe that I inherited too ways of feeling joy, ways of finding pleasure, ways of being with other queers in raucous and wild ways.
There was nowhere to go back to. Oklahoma was out of the question, always out of the question. But then, where was home?