Reflecting on Becoming More Myself

This consumed my existence in the two decades before I came out. Wishing away the days until I could see myself the way I wanted to be seen, that my body would finally become mine.

I was scared, worried that I was not strong enough to make the changes necessary to accept myself. Unable to even comprehend the amount of change possible if I could only take the chance.

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There’s this idea that transitioning is like a switch, that suddenly everything changes. When I woke up after coming out, I still hated myself: I was still the same, even if I wasn’t.

I was finally changing, but my attitude toward myself wasn’t. I was unfaltering in denigration of myself; regardless of how much I changed it was never enough. All I could see were the flaws.

Hatred of the self in this way is untenable, it ends or you do. In hating myself I was missing out on so much, blind to the friends trying to reach out, or to those who could have been allies.

Over time this changed too, I was unable to see the beauty and strength in myself for the small flaws. Unable to accept that these were just another thing that made me me. With time I took small steps to accepting and loving my body.

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My body continues to change, continues to grow and develop. And I am so proud of myself for continuing when everything in me wanted to stop. Proud of my body for always keeping me going, even if I wasn’t sure I wanted to.

Focusing hatred inward so much can leave you lost to the joys of the world around you. Acceptance is a long road, and transition saved me in a way I never thought possible.

It wasn’t a switch like I had dreamed, but it allowed me to see through the fog and consider the possibilities that might exist for myself and my body. Life has been filled with a vibrance I never could have conceived of.

I finally see beyond myself, every touch, every sight and sound, amplified by the knowledge that I am here to stay, that finally I am free. Waking every day to a body that is more me than yesterday.

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Changing my body didn’t make me suddenly see the beauty in myself. But seeing beauty in myself gave me strength to change and develop, to become the person I always wanted to be.

I am still scared in a way, but I know my own strength now, have accepted that I am more than I ever could have allowed myself to believe.

They say beauty is in the eye of the beholder, and every day I see more of myself, accept a little bit more of myself.

My room isn’t devoid of mirrors anymore.

Hazel Sanderson

Header photo credit: Rosie Taylor
Instagram: @rosiektaylor