As I’ve mentioned, I am taking a part-time grad class in addition to my full time workload. Except, well, now I’m not. I dropped the class, or, as I’ve decided to call it, I’ve deferred it until next year. I know I shouldn’t be disappointed in myself, but I am. Math is still hard. And I feel a little bit like a failure, even though I have a contingency plan that involves tutoring and self-learning and I know exactly what I need to prepare. And I know I shouldn’t be surprised because I have access to my own transcript from college and my own brain, and these things tell me that there were certain materials I did not grasp particularly well – and now I am going to grasp them. And that is good. Better late than never. A lesson, which, ironically, I am learning…better late than never.
For what feels like the first time in a long time, I don’t have an outside-of-work project. I guess I have this blog, and I play piano, and I work out, but these are things I consider my lifestyle. They’re not goal-oriented. I’m not taking the GMAT. I’m not going to school. As I struggled to come up with Something to Fill Time with, I realized I was being ridiculous. I considered my apartment, which is a mess. I considered my body, which is a mess. I hadn’t been cooking for myself. I had a solid month in November where I ate Chinese takeout every night. I’m not saying that Chinese takeout isn’t awesome. I would never say that. (Greasy Chicago rec? Furama) I hadn’t been working out. I hadn’t been taking care of my clothes or my girlfriend or really doing anything but existing.
I have a year before I have to start this class again. And sure, I’ll be revisiting math topics, but – it would be nice to take a year to myself and just…be.
What does that have to do with butch? In some ways, my gender has already been taking me down this path. It comes in waves, but my dysphoria is going away. I can tell. I can look at transmen without thinking that testosterone is something I should be taking. Before I’d look and just feel jealousy. I can look at myself and see that I look exactly as I should. It’s a hard lesson to learn, whether in regards to my gender or in regard to my entire self, and I’m not saying that I’ve learned it or even that I’m halfway through learning it. But there is less anxiety about it.
I need to calm down. I need to disconnect. I need to accept that I am heading in the right direction, that I am doing the right things, that I am living up to my own high expectations, simply by taking care of myself and listening to my needs. I don’t need another project. I need to give my brain time to wander.
Stop checking my e-mail so often. Eat without distractions. Watch a sunrise. Stretch my body out. Be alone without being lonely.