The Cost of Peace

Day 12: The Cost of Peace

​"When you choose peace, it comes with a lot of goodbye."

​I know I said in my last post that the next time we talked, I would be on the other side of my appointment. But as the hours tick down to tomorrow, I found myself looking at the quote on my photo today and realizing I had a little more on my heart that I needed to get out. It is the absolute truth of the space I’m standing in right now.

​Tomorrow is the 31st. Tomorrow is the endocrinologist appointment where I take the next massive step in my medical transition. I am on day 12 of my testosterone blockers, and the physical noise of the last 41 years is finally starting to quiet down. But getting to this quiet, getting to this peace, hasn't been free.

​When you spend four decades living inside a cage built of fear and expectations, breaking out requires leaving things behind. You have to reconcile with the weight of what remains once the cage is gone, and sometimes that weight is grief. To finally choose my own authentic peace as Serenity, I had to say a lot of goodbyes.

​I had to say goodbye to a version of myself that was nothing more than a shadow, a protective shell that kept me safe but ultimately kept me suffocated. I had to say goodbye to the hollow comfort of hiding. And the hardest part? Choosing peace sometimes means saying goodbye to relationships, spaces, or people that were built on the shadow-version of you, rather than the real you. When you change the terms of your existence from compliance to authenticity, not everyone is willing to make that jump with you. It is terrifying. It is a grieving process all its own. You mourn the time lost, and you mourn the connections that couldn't survive the truth.

​But here is what they don't always tell you about those goodbyes: they make room for the most incredible hellos. The empty spaces left behind by what you lose become the exact places where your real life finally takes root.

​Because I said goodbye to the cage, I get to say hello to my future. I get to experience the profound joy of transitioning alongside a partner I’ve known for 35 years, who sees and loves the real me. I get to walk into that doctor's office tomorrow knowing I am fighting for my own life, standing entirely in my own light.

​Every goodbye was just clearing the path for the peace I am finally claiming.

​If you are standing on the edge of your own transition, or simply on the edge of living your truth, the goodbyes might look towering and impossible right now. The cost of peace might seem too high. But let me promise you this from the other side of the cage... the peace that lives within your own true skin is worth every single goodbye.

​Hold onto your peace. I really mean it this time, I'll see you all tomorrow after the appointment.

​— Serenity