Isolation

An interesting question came up recently in a support group: Would you still find it necessary to go through physical transition if you were suddenly to be isolated forever on an island somewhere, never to be seen by another human being?

The point of the question was, of course, to get at how much we are transitioning for ourselves and how much to better fit into society. To me, though, it brought up a much more interesting question: Could I live in total isolation?

Prior to my realization that transition was actually possible, I would have answered yes without hesitation. I had always felt isolated anyway, never really a part of the world. At work, among friends, and even in relationships I had always kept a distance between myself and those around me. When you are pretending to be someone you're not, you can't let up for a moment; you're afraid to get too close to anyone for fear that your secret will slip out. It's as if you're an international spy or an undercover cop: one false move and your cover is blown.

Isolation was my friend. It was the only way I could relax and be myself. And then transition changed everything.

Suddenly I had nothing to hide. After all those years of hiding inside myself, the dam had burst and everything came pouring out. I told all my friends and family what I was doing, and found I actually enjoyed telling them and answering their questions. Online and in support groups I tried to pass along what I had learned about myself to anyone with a need or desire to know. Just talking to friends on the phone became a great joy. This was what had been missing all those years, being able to talk openly and honestly about my feelings, my fears and my desires. I had spent most of my life deprived of that most basic of human needs, the need to be close to someone, and I was making up for lost time.

Now living in that kind of isolation again is unthinkable. After experiencing what life is supposed to be, going back would kill me as surely as a bullet to the brain.