Honestly, I'm torn on how I view my past self. I don't see "him" as a different person in any way except externally. That appearance and mind never really meshed, so it doesn't feel like a separate person (aside from the usual age thing).

Past me was not really a he, just someone who clung to the role she was given because she desperately wanted to be normal. It's hard being totally abnormal and hating it for your entire adolescence. I've wanted to destroy the person I was for as long as I remember, so I never really saw it as a full person, just an empty costume I was stuck in.

The big thing I didn't realize was that the part I hated was the gender. At first, I hadn't even suspected that it could be my problem. I didn't feel a clear urge to get rid of it or discard it, only feeling displeasure while wearing it that just couldn't be placed. I always would have been so much happier as a girl, but I had barely a clue. I truely didn't know or suspect that "woman" would fit like a glove I was always meant to have.

It was hard to realize that my male outfit didn't fit and was killing me. It was even harder to accept that I wanted a cozy femme outfit, not to simply to discard my old one.

My identity needed to be torn down and rebuilt, but I didn't even need tools to dismantle that cardboard shack. I needed to know that the shack was killing me, that I could tear it down, and that I could build a new home.