Atypical Trans Late Bloomer

A long time between posts. I've been on HRT for 15 months now. It feels really good. Euphoric would apply. Today I came out to my friend B. They were so cool. A little but not surprised, a little bit surprised. They were excellent. I've been out with my team - my psychiatrist, my psychologist, my doctor, my endocrinologist, my cardiologist. I really have some doctors. I'm out to my daughter fully, and to my son conceptually but he's quite a distance away, we haven't seen each other face-to-face in almost a year. I will see him within the month. I live in a small town. 700 residents in the summer, 350 across the winter. Some winter in Florida, some go to Pittsburgh. It's a seasonal tourist town - three restaurants in season, one year-round. It's not a leading-edge place; it's a Christian, conservative, red-voter, Fox News town. A lot of guns. Very nice people, but they vote for some quirky politics. I have not been out widely in the town. I h

I am a little over a year into HRT, over a year into thrifting, over a year into having one place where I can buy shoes. But I've got a stash of about four outfits, a few skirts and tops to rotate, and I can manage to pull off a check-list of an outfit if not an actually effective, smooth appearance. I am a big person. Ungainly. I think that when I go into girlMode, I am an times grotesque , which denotes artwork made of stones and local materials that might be found in a grotto. I am Frankenstein's Monster, scaring the citizens, attracting stares, causing some to bless themselves and others to get defensive. I don't expect to pass; I don't expect to be graceful or beautiful. The miracle is that I am at all; that I can exist and be closer to myself; and that it feels so damn good to me. I'm not trying to impress anybody else; I'm trying to be me. And that (to me) is the miracle of Frankenstein's Monster: that it breathes, moves, and functions