It doesn’t matter if you are transsexual because you want sex with men. It doesn’t matter if you want relations with women, or if you want no relations at all. It doesn’t matter if you have enough money for surgery. It doesn’t matter if you are 5 feet 11 inches or 5 feet 7 inches tall. It doesn’t matter if your are 210 pounds, or if you are 120 pounds.
It matters deeply that you love yourself — as you are now, and however you are now.
Loving myself was really, really hard. I’ve heard a lot of people say, “You have to accept yourself.” Sure — but acceptance is not enough for happiness. If, say, you lose a limb, you can be sad about it, and angry about it, but until you accept that the limb is never coming back, you will be stuck.
In the mid-80’s I finally accepted myself as a crossdresser. For years I’d fought it, I’d cried about, I’d sworn about it, I’d drunk about it. Finally, I accepted that my crossdressing wouldn’t go away, and would never change. I was sure I was a crossdresser till I died. I began to loosen up though it wasn’t till 20 years later that I made it to Fantasia Fair. I was OK. It was better.
For me, the leap from acceptance to love came from God, as I wrote about a year ago. After that, then I was able to realize I am transsexual.
Have you ever done this? Alone in the bathroom, look yourself straight in the eye and tell the person you see that you love her. Tell her you love her eye color, and her hair color; that you love her teeth, and her smile, and her skin; that you love her arms and her hands, her legs and feet. Take inventory — love every part! It’s not unusual for tears to flow when you first love yourself.
Know that you are beautiful just as you are: right now, today, makeup or none, surgery or none, wig or none. You are beautiful; love yourself.