Yesterday I went to my beautiful house, full of many happy memories and signed over ownership to my wife. At the same time, we each signed the divorce agreement. While not official yet, we are now essentially divorced and I no longer have any claim to the home we bought together. I never wanted to divorce. I never wanted to leave, but things became so unhealthy and toxic I had too. Leaving allowed me to truly discover myself as Dana and was a big push towards living my truth full time. But being in that place brought back so many happy memories.

The cloud that covered my last 8 months living there was a distant memory. Instead, I remembered our first Christmas and when we brought our dogs home. I remembered lazy weekends on the couch watching movies. I remembered making a massive thanksgiving meal shared between the two of us and I remembered caring for each other when we were sick.

I remembered pain shared and joy multiplied.

After I signed the paperwork, I cried the rest of the time I was there. We played with our dogs together one last time and as I prepared to leave, she said, “I hope it was worth it, I hope you’re happy.” I am not happy as I sit here in my apartment alone, crying. I am in fact desperately sad and full of regret, however I am still very glad I transitioned. I wish things were different, but I do know that I didn’t have a choice. Transitioning is not about happiness, though that is the easiest way to describe it. The feeling of disconnection and displacement associated with living as the wrong gender goes beyond fleeting and temporary feelings of happiness and sadness.

It is so hard to describe the feeling of living as your correct gender after a lifetime of confusion and dysphoria. I am more centered and content, despite my sadness. I feel more real and vital and present. I am not happy, but I am me.

And being me is worth it.

