It’s not about clothes, it’s about who I am. I don’t feel the need to sit in a skirt and a wig on my sofa in the evening. Like any other women, you come home and you put your comfy clothes on.
As soon as I was me, I felt free. But I also learned what it was like to be a victim, which was a new experience.
I have to change my voice, how I hold my hands, stand, walk. Even the way I hold a pen changes. I go back to my male self and sometimes I get stuck in one or the other.
It was one of the happiest moments of my life, apart from my children being born. I was over the moon. I had finally found out who I was, what I was.
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