@portugeek
I'm happy that I don't have to tell you that dysphoria only gets worse over time.
Oh, my life was comfortable all right, good job that I liked, working in IT, a wife to come home to, four cats (we never wanted kids, we both went through too much shit to want to force this world on a child).
It it wasn't for that constant nagging feeling that something is fundamentally wrong, that I had suppressed for years, it would have been nice. But dysphoria came in waves, and over the years (we've been together for 15 years) it just got worse each time. New hoobbies managed to temporarily keep it at bay, but it came back worse each time.
Finally I realized that I could likely keep going for a few more years at most, before the depression would be as bad as it was in my late teens and early twentys, when I was acutely suicidal.
It's when I realized that I've got nothing, and everything to loose, and that I could at least try to transition. I didn't have much hope back then, but I was desperate, so jumping into the unknown, hoping it would finally help, was what I did.
I never imagined the world had so many colors, so many scents. I never imagined that I would be free from depression for the first time in a quarter century. I never imagined how alive I would feel. I never imagined that I could be this confident. I never imagined that I could finally confront my past, and finally process a truely shocking amount of trauma. I never imagined that as a woman I could actually be strong, instead of faking strength playing a man. I never imagined that just at my age I could grow a truely marvelous pair of boobs, and just how right they'd feel. I never imagined I could becume as confident as I've become, calling out doctors talking bullshit within their field, or ordering my genome sequenced, so I can analyze the data, to prove to stubborn doctors that I know what I'm talking about, and know enough to do their job, if they refuse to do it. I never imagined just how huge a difference it can make when your body finally runs on the right hormones.
I had hoped to managed what I had managed before, pushing the dysphoria away for a while, instead things stopped feeling wrong, but started feeling right.
Looking back at the trauma in my past, always doing what was expected, never knowing what I wanted, because the only thing I really wanted was to not have to be somebody that never felt like me, but finally find out who I am, instead of listening to people telling me who I'm supposed to be.
But now here I am, feeling about 15-20y younger than my body is, because I've not really lived since my pre-teens. Even though the gatekeeping pushed me into burnout, these four years have been happier than I've ever been in several decades. I can finally be me, and I'm not letting anyone put me into any box that I don't find comfortable in ever again. Even then, they'll have to accept that bits of me may not fit neatly into the box they chose to put me in, and that's their problem, either they accept it, or I'll just throw their box into their face.