Transitioning is, without question, the best decision I have ever made. It’s like stepping into the person I always was, but couldn’t express. It has brought me a sense of completeness, of joy, that I never thought was possible. But if I said that my transition was only sunshine and rainbows, I’d be lying. The mental impact of this journey has hit me like a train, something I never fully anticipated. It’s a part of my transition that many don’t see — or perhaps, choose not to.
From the outside, people see me as this person who now takes a female form, with all the associated external markers of my gender. They assume my transition is done. But, the truth is, transition is so much more than the physical aspects, and it doesn’t end when you “look the part.” What’s going on inside is often overlooked, misunderstood, or dismissed entirely.
The Emotional Rollercoaster
Transitioning has been a rollercoaster of emotions. From elation at seeing myself reflected in the mirror in a way that finally feels right, to the crushing weight of dysphoria that sometimes lingers. The expectations others place on me — even those who are well-meaning — can feel suffocating. There is this perception that once I “become” a woman externally, the struggle is over. But my mental transition, the inner work, continues.
It’s not just about adapting to a new body or a new societal role; it’s also about processing years of internalised feelings. The guilt, shame, and confusion that accumulated over years of repressing my true self don’t disappear overnight. They require time to heal.
It’s been an exhausting process of unpacking these feelings and allowing myself the space to acknowledge that they’re valid. It’s not weakness to struggle with them; it’s human.
The Pressure of “Being Done”
One of the hardest parts of transitioning, for me, has been dealing with the expectations of others. People often assume that once you’ve “completed” your transition physically, that everything must be perfect. The reality is that transition is a lifelong journey, especially when it comes to mental health.
It’s difficult to express how draining it can be when people expect you to have all the answers or think you’ve reached some finish line, while inside you’re still figuring it out. It’s a misconception that your struggles end once you pass a certain milestone in transition. In fact, in many ways, that’s when the real mental work begins.
The pressures of performing femininity or even conforming to binary expectations can weigh heavily. I pride myself on having to live up to an ideal of womanhood that I wasn’t socialised in, one that feels alien and intimidating at times. While I embrace my identity fully, there’s a persistent internal struggle with societal norms and the invisible emotional labour it takes to simply exist as myself.
The Importance of Support
Through all of this, I have been so incredibly thankful for the support of my partner. Her love and understanding have been a lifeline. It’s not easy to navigate a world that can be, at best, indifferent, and at worst, hostile, to transgender people. Having someone who sees the person beneath the surface, who doesn’t just focus on the external transformation but who understands the mental toll, has made an immeasurable difference.
Without my partner’s empathy and patience, I don’t know how I would have handled the mental challenges I’ve faced. Transitioning isn’t something I can do alone. Yes, it’s my journey, but the emotional support of the one I love has kept me grounded during the hardest times.
I can’t emphasize enough how vital it is to have a strong support system. Whether it’s friends, family, or a partner, knowing you have people in your corner makes the struggle a little easier. It gives you the courage to keep going, even when your mind is telling you to give up.
What People Don’t See
People often don’t see the mental anguish that comes with transitioning. They see the outer transformation — the changes in appearance, voice, mannerisms. They might even compliment me on how far I’ve come. But they don’t see the nights when I’ve cried or tried to cause myself harm, because I feel like I don’t measure up to the woman I want to be. They don’t see the internalised anxiety I sometimes feel in certain situations, constantly wondering if I’m being judged.
They don’t see the years of unlearning toxic beliefs about gender and identity that I had internalised long before I ever considered transitioning. And they don’t see the mental energy it takes to walk through life knowing that, for many, I will never fully be accepted.
My transition is not just about becoming the female I always knew I was; it’s also about healing the wounds of the person I was forced to be before. It’s a continuous process, and it’s not easy.
Finding Peace in the Struggle
Despite the mental struggles, transitioning has given me the greatest gift: authenticity. For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m living as my true self. The hardships don’t negate the beauty of that. In fact, they make it more meaningful.
I’m still learning to navigate the mental complexities of this journey. There are days when I feel like I’ve taken ten steps backward, and days when I feel unstoppable. But what I’ve realised is that it’s okay to struggle. It doesn’t make me less of a woman or less valid in my transition.
If you’re reading this and struggling with your own transition, or if you know someone who is, please understand that the mental challenges are real and valid. We deserve the space to feel everything — the good, the bad, and everything in between. Transitioning isn’t just about becoming; it’s about healing. And healing takes time.
For now, I take it one day at a time, thankful for my partner, thankful for the journey, and thankful for the strength to keep going.
I hope this offers some insight into the unseen struggles of transitioning, and maybe even some comfort to those who are facing similar challenges. Transitioning is the best thing I’ve ever done, but it doesn’t come without its share of mental battles. But with love, support, and self-compassion, it’s a journey worth taking.