The past couple of months have been quite intense. I've finally come to terms with myself and accepted that I'm trans—even though deep down I already knew it for quite some time. After my summer vacation, where the gender envy was pretty strong, I made an appointment for a psychological consultation and got my indication letter confirming I'm trans.

After that, I told my best friend. I was truly terrified, but she met me with incredible acceptance and assured me that it doesn't change anything between us. Next month, I have an appointment with a gynecologist, and I'm hoping I can start HRT soon.

My full social transition will take time, as I first want to wait for some of the changes to happen. When it comes to underwear, however, I've already been wearing women's underwear exclusively for a while now. The thought of wearing a bra not just because it feels right, but because I actually need to—even if it's just in the beginning to protect my budding nipples from rubbing against my clothes—fills me with so much excitement and joy.

Bit of an ugly scene yesterday at home. Mother had decided to stop seeing her boyfriend. She says she has all she wants in me. He didn't take it very well and started slagging us both off and called me a fucking queer and a motherfucker, which was almost funny. He was clearly taken by Mother. I hope he doesn't make a nuisance of himself