I am the King of Disorder.

(Source: livelaughtumbl)

For years, I’ve quietly considered in the back of my head that maybe, just maybe, I should’ve been born a boy. Looking at magazines filled with my favorite rock stars and thinking “I wish I looked I like that”. Not because they were attractive or had nice clothes… But because they had a flat chest, pecs, a penis.

I never really thought becoming a physical boy was an option.

Then I dated a girl who told me halfway through our relationship that she was transgendered. Though I didn’t know much about being transgendered at the time, I loved the soul that was inside the body, not just the physical appearance. After that relationship ended, I dated another trans-boy. I’ve never had any qualms about the gender of the person I’m dating. I consider myself pansexual - I have no ‘preference’ to any gender/sex.

In the world that I live in, nearly all of my friends are boys who dress as girls, girls who dress as boys, trannies of all kinds, etc. Nothing is taboo in my group. And I love that. I’m so grateful for that, because I never have to feel like the completely odd man out anymore.

I never fit in anywhere when I was growing up. I was too boyish to hang out with the girls, or a lesbian they wanted to stay away from, and the boys saw me as one of the guys or a lesbian who they, also, wanted to stay away from.

When I was 18, I went to The Complex. My first gay club. My first time ever really going out on the gay scene at all. I instantly fell in love. There were all kinds of ‘freaks’ walking around. I felt at home. For the first time, I felt like I could be me. Looking back at pictures from then til now, I see how much I’ve grown. I owe quite a bit of my confidence to the Queens, Kings, faggots, lesbians, trannies, and everyone else I met on the STL gay scene. Because of all of them, I feel more comfortable being just myself than I ever have been.

It really is like home.

This past January, I started doing drag. I’ve wanted to for years, but was never quite ready. Didn’t have the balls, so to speak.

I finally did it. I taped my chest, packed my jeans, and went on the stage and killed it. Since then, I’ve been booked for so many shows and have been having such a blast. I’ve done nothing but get bigger and better at what I do, and I’m falling more and more in love with the stage than I ever thought imaginable.

But…

It’s also making me realize just how much more comfortable I am as a boy than as a girl.

I can’t stand being called Chelsea anymore. I hear the name, and it makes me shudder. All I want is to be Aiden. I’ve quietly begun telling my friends one by one to only refer to me as Aiden from now on. Some already do, as it’s the name I use for my drag, but some are having difficulties. Some have given me nicknames to help them ‘transition’ into just calling me Aiden.

This is really just a way for me to get out what I need to get out and to say wht I need to say on the subject before I tell my family and the entire world.

I guess, this is sort of my way of telling the world, as It’s the internet.

To be honest, it wasn’t until just today that I realized that this is definitely want I want/who I am. Reading through countless blogs of people who are FTM, both pre- and post-op, I couldn’t stop crying.

I understand. I know. I feel the same way. This is what I want. This is who I am.

I’m Aiden. And one day, this will all be a reality for me.

One slow step at a time.