It’s Been A Minute…Time for Honest Truth

It’s nothing incriminating, so if that’s why you clicked – for the tea, if you will, then you’re probably not going to be satisifed with your expectations. Let’s lower those expectations and keep reading. I bet you laugh at least once before you’re done.

I’ve been meaning to write for probably two months now. My last post, I think, was on New Year’s. Ten weeks of changes. Ten weeks seems like it was a long time ago. Funny how you get so wrapped up in life, it’s like years go by in the blink of an eye. The older I get, the faster the time goes, too. It’s kind of wild. We spend our youth wanting to be older and have the things we dream of having only to find out it’s a lot harder to get that stuff when you have bills to pay. When we get here and we’re just like…man…where has the time gone? Just yesterday I couldn’t wait to be 40 and have the dream life. Oh, sweet childish innocence. How I long for thee some days.


So I started T on 11.17.22. Official first day. Here I am, almost 17 weeks later. Friday will be four full months on T. My neckbeard is coming in pretty steady. Not a full one. No, no. I couldn’t have that luck. I have 14 year old facepubes. It’s a thing. And not only is it a full thing, but it’s coming in red. Like my mom’s side of the family. Brown head hair, blonde body hair and a fire red beard. I’m a human calico. Not even playing. And I’m not even mad about it, that’s the best part. Like, listen, if it keeps coming in that fire red I think I’ll look pretty rad rockin the gingy beard.

I do have a newfound appreciation for mothers of boys, though. Because I’m here to tell you, the pubescent testosterone stank is a real thing. I noticed just a few weeks in that my skin and my body smell was changing. Oily skin, thicker skin, it’s all changing. And there are plenty of changes they don’t tell you about, trust me. I’m not going to go into detail or anything, but, seriously, it’s a whole damn thing.

When you read things on the internet about the changes you’ll see during HRT, sometimes it’s a little scary, right? You’re reading along and you come across this tidbit: “You may experience increased appetite, increased aggression, increased sex drive and a change in moods.” Alright, so, uh, nope, nope, okay maybe? And probably a hard pass. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve read articles and blogs where my conclusion has been, “Hmm…is it possible for me to be happy enough without T?”

The answer was always no.

Now that I’ve been on it almost four months, I’m really (this is going to sound super weird, consider yourselves warned) reconnecting with my body. I don’t mean like… you know… that. It’s just that my brain and my body haven’t really been in sync since I was a kid. There was always this strange disconnect after puberty that was just awful. But I had no idea that this was a thing. I just thought I was fucked up in the head or something. Tried the being a lesbian thing and I knew that wasn’t me, either. That became obvious right off the bat. Nothing against lesbians, there are plenty of lesbians that I love very very much. It just wasn’t me. Until my then-girlfriend asked me about it one day, I didn’t know being trans was even a thing. Once I started doing research, it was like..hmm. You know in sci-fi movies where they show the electric shock racing through the body and the nerves and stuff? It was like that from every nerve ending in body straight to my brain. Finally something made sense to me. Years of feeling like I was somehow defective suddenly confirming that I was not, in fact, defective. I was simply transgender.

But, yeah, so there’s that. And while it’s a beautiful thing to kind of feel like I’m not defective, it also comes with a sense of sadness. Because I wasn’t really in touch with myself as far as the mind/body connection goes, I didn’t really spend that time taking care of myself. Because I hated myself for a really really long time. And now I’m having to work my literal ass off at getting to where I want to be. It will be worth it. The hard work will pay off. But sometimes I get so damn angry at myself.

The past is the past, though. My name change became officially legal on Feb 17th. So for almost a month now, I’ve legally been Heath Nicklaus. Heather Nicole exists in the past and the past is hers, but from now on, this is me. And while it’s still an adjustment, I’m able to be Heath at work and out in the world and it’s been the best thing for my self-confidence.

So last week, to a super recent update on things, my doctor increased my T dosage. I went to the regular doctor the other day, too, to get a check up on cholesterol and all of that “fun” stuff. Since starting T, I gained all the weight back I’d lost and another 15 for good measure. Yeah, that was exciting. (Not.) So now I’m 1200 calories a day, 60 grams of protein and working out. Which I was already getting into anyway, so not a huge change on that front. The counting calories and sticking to 1200ish so far is going okay, but I’ve had to change the way I do everything. Not a bad thing. I really think it will make a difference — I already feel better not eating so many calories. Just have to put a little more effort in and not rely on the convenience stuff so much. OH – and he put me on Wellbutrin, too. Which I guess is an anti-depressant, but apparently it’s an appetite suppressant, too. So we shall see.

So things are really going pretty well. This whole thing is an adjustment, but for the most part it’s good. I’m definitely happier than I’ve been in a really long time. And that feels really damn good.

Happy New Year!

I am always so anti-new years posts, but this year I feel like I definitely need to make a new year’s post. This year is going to bring me so many good things and I’m so thankful that I’m finally at the point where my life is actually going to change for the better.

I started testosterone finally on November 17th. Which means I am just a few days shy of being a full seven weeks on it. Kind of surprisingly, to me anyway, quite a few things have already started happening and changing. Feb 17th is the court date to officially legally change my name. Which all of the above have been almost a decade of forward motion finally coming to fruition. It’s been a journey that I don’t have the time nor the words to explain. But my 30s have been the most eye-opening, frustrating and sad years of my life. I’ve learned a lot about myself, most importantly, what I will and won’t put up with. Every failed relationship has taught me lessons that, in the end, have and are still making me a better stronger person. Every time one ends, I see more and more about myself that just makes me put more healthy boundaries in place. Which, to be honest, might exclude a lot of people from having special places in my life. But I also would rather have a tiny circle of people who are 10,000% behind me than a bunch of people who have one foot in and one foot out.

There’s a lot going on. A lot of really good things. A lot of relationships growing and evolving right along with me and I’m just so thankful that 2022 wound up bringing me. And the things that 2022 also freed me to completely let go of. Now it’s time for 2023 to deliver.


Well tomorrow officially marks three weeks on testosterone. Honestly I’m starting to feel “right” on the inside and I don’t know how to explain that to anyone so please don’t ask. But my brain and my body are getting along a lot more than they have I think in my entire life. Now I’m in “Damn I need to lose weight” mode instead of having this complete disconnect from my physical self. So it’s a whole new set of challenges coming ahead of me, but I don’t see it as a bad thing. The only negative side effect really is this nagging headache and being more hungry. Which isn’t helping the weight loss situation at all. *grumbles*

I’ve also had to implement a face care routine during my shower every night because holy oily skin, Batman. My voice apparently is dropping but I hear myself every day so I don’t really notice it much. But everyone else seems to, so that’s cool. Didn’t think that would happen this fast, but I’m here for it.

Life is really pretty good though. Back to focusing on myself and the dreams I have for myself. This is my time after so long of waiting for it to be and I don’t want a single thing to keep me from enjoying this journey. I’m sure it will have its challenges, but I’m stoked for it.

I have my first therapist appointment in about six years next week, too. Not for anything specific, but I figure it’s not going to hurt me having a therapist on the off chance that things come up later. More of a mental maintenance plan, if you will. But it will be good and I think it’s something I need to have in place anyway. I think we all could use a little therapy, honestly.

Oh – and lastly – the name change. So I filed the petition a couple of weeks ago. I’m waiting on them to set a court date so I can take it and get it published and then that will be a whole thing, too.

I think the coolest thing about this whole process has been being able to educate people on trans issues and things that I go through in being trans. I have played second life for years and I have a lot of friends there who, before they met me, really didn’t know anything about it. So it has given me a chance to really kind of educate people on things they thought were facts that really were just nonsense agenda. Which has been draining at times, but in the end, it’s been great. I don’t go around with a flag like “Hey look at me!” or anything, but it’s not something I’m ashamed to talk about. The lack of communication and bridging that gap is the whole reason there’s so much wrong information out there in the first place. Instead of having a conversation, we just get pissed off and throw more hate at the other side. When, really, communication is the only thing that’s going to ever make it any better.

To top off that, I have a few who are fiercely protective of me, too. So if someone comes at me sideways and my anxiety freezes me, it’s still taken care of. Which is awesome. Because some days it can be a lot trying to get people to stop and listen for a minute.

Anyway – I could write a whole blog post about that, but I’ll spare you for now. Off to get some dinner and watch Hulu before I go to bed. Love y’all!

Doctors and Hormones and Name Changes Oh My!

I have had the title to this blog saved as a draft since November 9th. It’s now the 28th and I’m forcing myself to write this blog because every time I”ve gone to write it I either get interrupted or distracted or I’m just not in the mood to do it. But there are a lot of really exciting things happening and I feel like I should be sharing this with everyone in my virtual bubble, too, not just the people I interact with face to face. And I promise y’all, I will start doing better at this because now I have no major distractions once again to keep me from doing it.

So where to start.

Well, November 1st, I officially started my “new” job. My boss sold her CPA firm to a firm in Joplin so technically I’m working over there now. I’m getting a full 40 hours a week where I was on 35 before. I don’t have to answer phones or greet people, I’m literally in the corner farthest away from the door in a cubicle and it’s my quiet little work space and I love it. For the next few weeks, I’ll likely be working in Baxter still as this office doesn’t close until the first of the year and there are still a lot of transitional things that need to be wrapped up here before I go to Joplin full time again. But it’s going great. I’m Heath over there and my emails and everything reflect such and it’s just a good environment. Having to adjust to having coworkers again, but they’re all pretty nice people, so it’s all good. And since my bubble’s back in the corner, if I need a quiet retreat, all I have to do is put some headphones in and listen to music and I can escape and still work.

I had my first HRT consult on the 4th of this month. I did it via Zoom with my doctor at KU in Kansas City. I went to Mom’s to do it as she had 30 questions about things and I figured – well – I did tell her that I wanted her to go through this with me, so why not? I had to go through medical history and all that kind of stuff. Going in, I didn’t think that I’d leave with being pretty much ready to start testosterone, but that’s exactly what happened. I got orders for blood work and once I went and did that, then they reviewed it and ta-da I’m healthy enough to start! I did my first shot on the 17th. Aside from the headache that comes along with it, I’m not noticing any other side effects. Oh – well – except the oily skin factor. I’ve had to take up a skin care routine of a 15 year old again. I started noticing the oily skin and I was like listen I’m not doing this as an adult. So I got the stuff to keep this baby face feeling like a baby face. Complete with cocoa butter lotion for the post-violating cleansing aftercare. Yep. I said it.

I keep trying to make myself do YouTube videos just to have an audible and visual representation without having to do both separately, but I just hate seeing myself on camera. So I don’t know maybe I’ll get brave enough to do it. Today’s not the day though.

On the 22nd, I went to the lawyer and officially filed the petition for my legal name change, too. It was the best Christmas gift ever from one of my favorite people on this planet and I will never ever be able to express to her what it means to me. Though she already knows because she’s my person. When I signed that petition as “Heather Nicole Bradley” for the last time that I will have to do that probably ever, it was a whole thing. My attorney’s husband and I used to work at the bank together like 20 years ago and he’s always kind of been like a big brother to me. So when I had to get it notarized, I was so glad he was working that day. Just kind of an added cool factor in this whole process that he’s the one that got to notarize it. So anyway, that’s filed and now we wait for the next step. But holy moly having Heath on my legal documents instead of Heather is just going to push me that much harder and give me that much more motivation to keep clawing my way through this whole process.

I promise I will try to do better at updates and I will keep y’all informed of everything that’s going on. Things have been a whirlwind for a couple of months now and I’m hoping that the dust will settle soon because I am exhausted. But I appreciate each and every one of you being here for me.

Practicing Vulnerability

There’s something precious to be said about being able to be vulnerable with someone. And not vulnerable in a way that you tell someone things that you’ve been through to just get to know someone on a scratching-the-surface level, but the kind of vulnerability that makes you feel like you’ve gone to the hospital and they’ve used spreaders on your rib cage so that they can expose your heart on a level unattainable in any other way.

That kind of vulnerability is terrifying. If you don’t know personally, well, good. But, also, take it from someone who’s never been able to be rib-spreader level vulnerable in his entire life until recently. Sure, I’ve shared intimate details about things with people before, but never with a partner. It was deep enough to be meaningful, but not in a way that would leave me feeling so naked and exposed to someone who held at least part of my heart.

I’ve had trust issues my entire life. Sure, I have people in my life that I trust with things deeper than most know. But my past relationships just confirmed that it’s safer to not trust for pretty much the entirety of my dating life. Compound that with trust issues from things that happened when I was growing up and it’s a recipe for someone who gets close enough to be close, but not close enough to really get hurt. I didn’t have a bad childhood. Not at all. My parents are great people and always made sure I had everything I needed and most things I wanted. But, like everyone else, there are things from childhood that I carried into adulthood and through relationships. So without getting too deep into that, that’s what I mean when I say trust issues from growing up. Nothing terrible, just things.

I never wanted to be vulnerable, either. The thought of it is nice, of course, because it seems like Hollywood makes it so that being vulnerable is what gets you closer to having the relationship of your dreams. Kind of a pathway to happily ever after, of sorts. What they don’t show you is how many tears you shed when you realize you’ve been vulnerable. They don’t show the anxiety and the slight panic at waiting for that to be turned around on you. They don’t show you that you have to practice vulnerability over and over again until you figure out that it can be the most beautiful and freeing experience of your life.

Let me take it back.

Almost eight years ago, I found myself in the hospital literally fighting for my life. Everything that I had become accustomed to in my life at that point had all come crashing in on me all at once. My life had pretty much ended, my 4.5 year relationship had definitely ended and I learned about some health issues I had. When I was at my weakest, the person who should have been there for me wasn’t. Not in the least little bit. That just solidified my lack of wanting to ever be vulnerable like that again. I’d been let down so hard by someone I had so much hope for. So I slammed that gate to my soul shut. Nope. Not gonna do that again.

I started really working on my health and my life getting it back to where I deserved to be after being dragged down. I continued to make some pretty questionable decisions in regards to who I got into relationships with because apparently I learn hard lessons. The truth of it is actually that I always want to help people who need help to move up in life. People who haven’t ever really been loved unconditionally and treated the “right” way in a relationship. Because, granted, I have my flaws, but when I love, I love hard, and I think that everyone should experience that love and feel what it’s like to have someone care for them in that way.

Joke’s on me, right? I mean…it was. A few times.

After my relationship ended three years ago, I buckled down on working on myself. I came out to more people and started pushing forward in continuing to live my authentic life as my authentic self. For the most part, that all went really well and I gained a lot of confidence in people not only seeing me but really knowing me as Heath. I’d started shedding the old skin as much as I possibly could and really coming into myself without Heather dragging behind.

Then I decided to try and trust again. Not because I was lonely — I can do being alone. I’m an only child who grew up in the country, being alone is kind of my jam. The only person I need is myself and I’d finally gotten to the point that I knew that to be my ultimate truth. I had to work on loving myself so that I could love better and also accept that someone could love me as myself for myself.

I dated a girl for almost a year and in so many ways, she helped to heal that insecure part of me that was still hanging onto having to be Heather in some capacities of life. She showed me that it was possible for people to meet, know, and love Heath without Heather in the picture at all. Up to that point, nobody had done that. Things happened and we drifted apart for a while, but she changed my life completely. I’d known love in a way I hadn’t before and from that point on, I decided that never again would I settle for anything less than absolute unconditional love and acceptance from a partner. I’d finally gotten a taste of what it should be like.

Then I continued working on myself. I went to the doctor for the first time in years and am on track for getting a referral to the endocrinologist. I’ve lost 20+ pounds to date and decided I was going to settle for nothing less than someone who set my entire being on fire.

Then she came back into my life. At a point where I wasn’t even looking for her. Or anyone else, for that matter. I was deep into working on myself and pushing forward, but there she was. Here we are a couple of months later and she continues to change my life every day for the better.

But this isn’t a blog about her.

For the first time in my life, I am consciously practicing vulnerability. I’m learning that not everyone will use the deepest parts of you to hurt you. That some people actually take that and put it in the vault, guarding it to ensure its safety. Not that I haven’t been vulnerable before, because I have. But not on this level. I never made a conscious effort to do it and now I do. It gets easier every time, and nearly every time, it brings me to my knees with tears. Not an ugly cry, just tears. Tears of release. Tears of healing. Tears of restoration. I don’t see being “weak” as a bad thing. I don’t have this need to always be the safe haven and I’ve learned to let someone be my safe haven in a raw and vulnerable way without having a panic attack waiting for the bad to come.

It is my highest hope that everyone gets to experience that and gets to live in that at least once in their life. Because it, for me, has been very healing in a lot of ways that I didn’t even know I needed.


I’ve been wanting to write a blog post to commemorate 40 years of existence since before my birthday back in August, but I just haven’t ever gotten around to doing it. Today, I’m making myself do it because I’m going to wake up and be 41 and still not have written it.

I’ve been saying for a couple of years now that 40 is going to be another year of major progress for me. I had no idea in what ways, that’s just been the vibe I’ve been pumping out into the universe for a couple of years now. Apparently it worked. I’m not even a month in and there are so many things going so right for me right now.

I went to the doctor back in June, which I wrote about at the time so I won’t reiterate all of the things that spawned from that. I hit a point in life about six months ago that I realized it was time for me to stop talking about change and actually make the changes in my life that are going to get me to my goals. I made a doctor appointment and in June, I started doing Weight Watchers. Summary of doctor: we’re working on getting my A1C where it needs to be and then I’m getting referred to an endocrinologist so that I can start hormone replacement therapy.

Weight Watchers has changed my life, y’all. In 2 1/2 months, I’ve lost 25 pounds. Even though the scale is moving slowly (as it should if I’m being healthy about it), my clothes fit different. Last week, I did a side by side of me from June 27th to August 27th and the difference is pretty incredible for such a short period of time. I’m still eating pretty much what I want, just learning to balance and moderate things instead of having this really unhealthy relationship with food. I remember looking into Noom a while back and it talked about how it was about the psychology of your relationship with food, but I never had the money to sign up and really work the program. Weight Watchers was having a special deal and I decided to join yet again. Only this time, I started actually learning how to change my relationship with food and eat to live instead of eating my emotions. I still struggle sometimes with it, but for the most part, food is something I do because I have to to survive and be healthy, not because there’s a bunch of stuff going on in my life that I need that food comfort for.

I started gaining weight once I hit puberty and it’s been a downhill slope since then. A combination of unbalanced hormone levels, pcos and just general misery in not knowing anything about being transgender for so long was a recipe to get me to where I was. I’ve known that something wasn’t right with my body/brain combination birth dealt me since I was very young. Like 5 or 6 years old was the beginning of it all. But living where I do and having a really religious and conservative family didn’t afford me the luxury of being exposed to knowing that transgender was a thing. I was 30 years old when my girlfriend at the time asked me if I was sure I wasn’t trans. I had no idea what she was talking about, but when I started researching, everything just clicked. Like ohhhhh hell. It’s been a 10 year road to finally really being 100% at peace with who I am – and being confident enough to not be afraid to let the world know, too. Not that every day is a cake walk, because sometimes I have bad days with it. But for the most part? I’m 100% at peace with it.

A few years ago after yet another failed relationship with a woman who was hung up on my biology, I stepped back from relationships and trying to be happy with someone and really worked on falling in love with myself as I am and being in a healthy place with that. I’ve played Second Life for years and it was a pretty big part in that acceptance of myself. I was able to present 100% male and most people even after talking to me on voice for a while had no idea because, well, I’m just a dude. So between that and really working on loving me and surrounding myself with people who saw and loved me for me, I really did fall in love with myself. I set a lot of boundaries for people that I would no longer scoot far enough to make them comfortable and was at peace with whatever that wound up looking like.

Five years ago, I left my church that I’d gone to since I was 11 years old. Being trans in this evangelical part of the country wasn’t something that was working for me any longer. Being gay and in church was hard enough, nevermind being transgender. So for my own spiritual health and well-being, I left. During the pandemic, I found Left Hand Church based out of Colorado and absolutely fell in love with the people there and the way that they view God’s love and acceptance – without any labels whatsoever. For almost two years now, I’ve been their podcast director and I get to do the podcasts of the sermons every week. It’s a tiny bit of myself that I can give, but the outreach and the messages of love and kindness that are presented are so huge. I’ve met a lot of really wonderful people through that church and one day I hope to be able to road trip it out to Colorado to finally hug all of the people that I’ve grown to love so much.

Also a couple of years ago, I met MJ. The first conversation I ever had with her, I knew that I’d be with her. I’ve always thought it was such bullshit when people say things like, “I knew when I met you that I was going to marry you.” But I get it now. I won’t get super mushy or anything like that about her because I’m not one to air my relationships for the world, but I will say this. We both went through some stuff that rocked us to the foundation, but we agreed when we had our first conversation that friendship would be more important than anything else with us. Even though we were apart for several months, being where we are now is a pretty wonderful place to be. We met each other when we needed to know the other person existed so that when we were both in a place to come back together, we’d be able to. My mind is blown every day by her and the relationship that we have and it’s one of many things that I’m so grateful for.

Last week, I had to go meet with my attorney for some other things and I’d asked her what it would take to change my name when it came time for me being ready to do that. She told me basically $750 and a party to officially kill Heather and I couldn’t have loved that more. I worked with her husband at the bank back when I was in college and I’ve known and loved them for 20 years now. The fact that she’s ready to have a party to officially and legally make me become Heath brought me so much joy I can’t even explain it.

So, yeah…my 40’s are starting out with a bang. There are other things going on that I will write about when it’s time to and I’m able to. I’m just overwhelmed with how blessed I am. Not everything is perfect, but the things that really matter are pretty great right now.

Funeral Processions

Weird name for a blog post right? Hear me out.

Today I went to a friend’s house for dinner and I was just a couple of miles away from home when I was being met by a funeral procession. Now keep in mind that I live 12 miles away from town and people are usually zooming right along on this road at 70 MPH. So I put on my flashers and pull halfway to the shoulder and stop. The closest traffic behind me is about a mile and a half back and they’re not stopping.

Which is honestly one of my biggest pet peeves. From a very young age, I was taught to always pull over and pay respects whether you knew them or not. I’ve always gotten so angry when people don’t pull over and show respect. This was concreted more when Nanny died. Because to me a big part of my world had just been taken away from me so why couldn’t people be bothered to stop for five minutes and show respect?

So today it just hit me wrong I guess. I was far enough in the lane that people couldn’t pass me even if they wanted to. I had quite a line behind me when the procession was over and I’m sure they all were cursing me by the time it was over with, but I really didn’t care. As I sat there watching car after car go by, I just started to cry. Remembering how it felt to see the policeman stand there at the corner to the cemetery at attention saluting out of respect for those of us who had lost someone so special to them. The thought of anyone being angry about my self-centeredness kills me, so I make extra effort to not do that.

It’s a random blog post, I know, but it’s what’s on my mind, so here it is.

And for God’s sake, if you’re one of those people who don’t stop for processions, it’s time to start. It doesn’t take much time or effort and everyone on the other side will appreciate the respect.

The Little Things

So you’ve heard the saying “Don’t sweat the small stuff!”? I’ll go a step further and ask how many of you have a harder time sweating the small stuff than you do the big stuff? Doesn’t it always seem like there are billions and billions of things that would qualify as “small stuff” every day? Like sometimes it’s a constant stream of small stuff.

I used to be one of those people. Nowadays, my anxiety would like for me to still be one of those people, but my willpower sometime can overrule my anxiety. This is one such case that I have like <5% of a problem overpowering it.

On the drive home from work yesterday, I was thinking about my life. Thinking about the things that I’ve been through, the things that I’ve clawed my way through and just how damn proud of myself I am. And proud of myself for where I’m headed, too.

I’ll be 40 next month and while the fact that I’m turning 40 doesn’t bother me, it has me in a very contemplative head space. Because, listen, my life’s like halfway over and while dying doesn’t necessarily scare me, there’s so much more I want to do in my life. And I want to do it before I’m too old to really enjoy it. I’ve finally found a doctor that’s going to help me get on hormones and get my shit together, and it’s given me a renewed sense of hope for my future. It’s such a strange experience to be so hopeless about your future based on nothing other than how the world perceives you. It’s not that I don’t want the world to see me in some certain way, but I don’t want the world to see me as her. Without getting the proper medical treatment done, the world will see me as her for the rest of my life. So being in an area where generally the medical community that your insurance allows aren’t really on board with who you are (not based on your genitalia) is a pretty hopeless place to be in.

But now there’s light down that tunnel. I can see it shining through and I can see that the path to get to it might not be easy or fun, but that light on my skin will make it all so worth it.

I’ve also kind of come to this place of just complacency. Getting back on iron and vitamin D and taking allergy medicine has done wonders for me. I’ve had a week with very little anxiety generally speaking. Work has been good, home has been good (which it is 99% of the time because I’m all about a peaceful home) and just generally speaking it’s been a pretty good week.

Seven years ago, I almost died. I’ll spare the whole story and details because that’s a whole lot more reading than you’re already going to be doing. I had a flesh eating infection and it was pretty bad. At the same time, I found out I’m diabetic and anemic. I was also in the midst of a pretty rocky relationship and wound up ending that high on morphine (yay courage!) and in the hospital bed. It wasn’t a very pretty thing. So between trying to deal with that, finding the drive to live and heal, stressed about no income (because I was off work for three months), living with my parents…it was a lot.

But it also taught me a lot. It’s the foundation of why I am who I am today. I just had a whole lot of emotional damage from relationships and a lot of anxiety that I had to just clear out of my life in order for me to find that foundation. I’ve found that a lot of people who were used to quiet Heather who’d do anything she could to help someone regardless of the cost to herself aren’t really necessarily on board or as warm and fuzzy bout Heath the man who finally found himself.

Does this bother me? I mean – on a general level, no. What’s frustrating is that these are the very people who once upon a time called me a best friend. People who told me that they’d do anything for me. Except unconditionally loving me, apparently. I think that hurt the most out of everything. Realizing that people who you thought loved you in that way (the way that Christ commands us to love, by the way) actually have a condition on their love for you. Which, at that point, I don’t even want it at all. You either love me unconditionally or don’t waste my time. Is that arrogant? Is it selfish? I mean, maybe so? But you know what? That’s my choice. It’s not arrogant to expect that kind of love from people who you keep in your life.

“I love you, but…”

No thanks. Keep it away from me. Work on your own life. Fix your own problems. I’m over here keeping to myself not hurting anyone else, so let me be.

My point is this, put simply. If you find yourself being that person who is overwhelmed by the small stuff, you might consider doing a cleansing. I don’t mean grab the hose and blow the leaves and grass off the porch. I mean – tank full of soap, high pressure nozzle, pressure wash that shit. Down to the last nitty gritty piece you have hanging on for dear life. It’s not easy. I won’t pretend like it is. It’s not a quick process, either, so if you’re going to embark, by all means, pack your patience. But do you know what it is? It’s worth it because in the end you’re protecting your space and your peace and your life. Because in the end, you’re the only one that’s 100% always going to be there for yourself.

It’s time we take better care of ourselves, guys. The small stuff will be forgotten. It’s not worth it to destroy yourself over things that will be gone in the blink of an eye. We’re a tiny blip on this great radar of the universe. Don’t give the small stuff that much power. Be a beast.


Well, it is my first full week of Weight Watchers and since I started the program on June 22nd, I’ve lost 6.2 pounds. In some ways it feels like it’s only a drop in a 500 gallon barrel, but you know what? It’s progress and I’ll be proud of myself whether it’s 1 pound or 16 because any weight lost is that much less my joints have to carry around. I’m 100% for that. I have a long way to go, but for the first 10 days, 6.2 isn’t too shabby.

I know that all of this is going to come together for the greater good and to help me reach my goal. Which is to lose weight and be able to start testosterone. Eye on the prize. Because I’ve totally got this.

I’ve been having trouble focusing and concentrating at work for months now and when I went to the doctor, I found out I’m anemic and have tanked vitamin D. So that explains at least part of that. My anxiety is probably accounting for the rest of it, to be honest. I had a conversation with my boss about it and I’m working on getting my levels back up to where they need to be. I’m already sleeping better. I haven’t slept good in months and for the last week I’ve been not only sleeping better, but getting more rest than I have in a long time.

Overall, I know I have a long way to go, but I’m also stoked about the progress I’m making so quickly.



So last week, I joined Weight Watchers again. I’d done this a couple of years ago with a very dear friend and we did pretty good. Then life happened and blah blah excuses. Not even going to waste my time typing them out because they’re all bullshit. Lies we tell ourselves to make us feel better about giving up on something good.

But that’s a whole other blog post.

So I know that in order to actually be able to start testosterone, I need to get my diabetes under control and just generally get my ass into better shape. I don’t eat terribly, but, listen, when I’m stressed, junk is my go to. Specifically things like ice cream and Snickers with almonds. Not really chocolate-y things, though, but still, plenty of stuff that’s not great for me. I’ve had such a hard time with it for so long, too. Not that I really gained weight, but I’m definitely not losing it.

I was talking to some people about joining and we’ve gotten a few of us in a group together to go through this and support each other through our individual weight loss/lifestyle change journey. Because studies show that if you have support and encouragement in it, you’ll be more likely to succeed. While getting on testosterone and top surgery and being able to live as who I am on the inside is definitely motivation and a fire under my butt to stick with it, having people who not only love me for me, but will also be there to support me and push me when I need it, means everything.

I’ll be 40 in August this year. This doesn’t bother me one bit. Bring it on.

I just don’t want the next 40 years to be like the last 40. I have too many things I want to experience and do to stay stuck in this rut of feeling like hell and not being able to because I’m too fluffy and out of shape. Life is short and I’m dedicated to being able to do the things and enjoy the things that matter from here on out.

As of Sunday (my weigh in day), I’ve lost three pounds. Considering I only joined six days ago, I’d say that’s pretty good. I don’t weigh in otherwise because if I do, then I become obsessed by the number on the scale and that’s not good for my mental health. So I’ll update everyone this weekend probably on where I’m at with that.

Be blessed, y’all.


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