Another year has come and gone. To many, 2023 was a complete disaster, a year that should become a footnote in history, swept into the dustbin and discarded with the trash. 

But to me, 2023 was the year my life began. I’m sure most people can’t understand how I feel about the last four months of the year, but I know several people who might read this who would have the context to feel the same way. 

Transitioning, to me, is like having existed under a crushing weight for as long as I can remember, then suddenly having that weight lifted. Practically everything that previously made me feel abnormal and outcast is now uplifting and affirming. My femininity is not a pathetic desire to be something I’m not; it’s who I am. It was November when I began to feel really comfortable with who I am, but only in December when I truly saw myself in the mirror. 

Backing up a little: My life started in August, but it was filled so wonderfully at the end of September. That’s when I had my first “date” with a woman who has become my closest friend. As I told her recently, it was as if I used to have a hole in my heart in the shape of an intricately complex puzzle piece, with a one in a billion chance that anyone would ever fit. But then along she came, slid right into my hole, and filled it in such a satisfying way*. I love her so much and so freely. We have no expectations, no obligations beyond straightforward honesty. We have a meeting of the minds like I’ve never experienced before. 

But it goes beyond that. I met her as I was just coming to terms with my transition. In the three months we’ve known each other, she has been my unwavering support, always sharing my joy, always encouraging me to be the best version of myself. She is also experiencing personal growth that I am so happy to be a part of. 

The culmination of my year of growth came on the morning of December 27. I looked into the mirror that morning after brushing my hair. My face was scruffy. I wasn’t wearing any makeup. But I looked into my eyes and saw myself. For years, I didn’t feel anything when I looked into the mirror or when I looked at pictures of myself. The outer edge of my eyes is where my self-perception stopped. But on that recent morning, I looked into my eyes and saw the beautiful woman who is inside me. I have a long way to go. My face is still a source of dysphoria. But that incongruence fades every day. 

I used to mentally block compliments. If someone told me I was good looking (in the before time) or beautiful, I would rationalize that they were seeing what they wanted to see, mostly seeing my personality, which is supportive of others. They couldn’t possibly be talking about my outward appearance! But, as of December 27, I see it. 

2023 is the year I started living, met my closest friend, and became beautiful, not just to others, but to myself. 

Happy new year to everyone. May 2024 bring you happiness, success, and love. 

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*Our conversation basically has no limits. One more reason she is the most amazing friend I’ve ever had.