Gender Impostor Syndrome

The way I feel about gender for everyone else just doesn’t apply to me

Many stories of transitions go like this: people realize they’re not cis, and even if they lose everything else, they know that their newfound identity is inalienable. If they have no other support, they have themselves and the hot determination of understanding their authentic self. As much as I’d like to say my journey went this way, I don’t feel like this at all, though.

I thought coming out as trans would turn my life around, but in actuality… it really hasn’t. It’s given me better complications, yes, but the worst is that I feel like I have Gender Impostor Syndrome.

What is “Gender Impostor Syndrome”? Well, that’s a great question. I have no idea exactly what it is, but if I had to give a definition, I’d say that it’s like regular impostor syndrome, but it’s inextricably tied to my gender identity and gender performance.

Despite great strides in changing my appearance, my pronouns, and letting my true femininity shine through, something always feels off. No matter how much soul-searching I do, I always end up in the same place, my tri-monthly (or so) crisis about my gender, how I’m behind in life, yadda yadda yadda. It’s so tiring, but I still can’t seem to move past the same vicious cycle!

All my life, I feel like I’ve just been cheering on friends and strangers who keep passing me by. Seeing them on social media figuring out themselves was honestly a touching and incredible experience. It’s cliché, but it really felt like having a butterfly greenhouse. With every conversation or every post, the life cycle was the same. They started as apprehensive and indecisive caterpillars, eating up support, idols, and stories from the LGBTQ community to get more confident. They finally declared to the world their identity, no matter what letter of the acronym.

With this self-development, their chrysalis shattered. Climbing to the surface on sticky feet, the butterflies all spread their wings and flew off.

A lot of trans people I saw got sparkles dusted on what used to be dead eyes, loving their new bodies. For everyone else, they gained newfound confidence and determination to be who they were. Of course, this process…

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