A Different Kind of Hope

The one thing I've gained from this time of upheaval and change in my life is something that, up until now, I've felt I had little of in my life.

Choice. Options. Freedom.

You see, part of the journey I have gone through is the shedding of old thoughts, of old dreams, hopes, desires.
I have shed chunks of my old self like dead skin.
I am still in the process of doing this, and there are other parts I want to shed. Other motivations (or lack there of), other thought processes and ruts that I want to leave by the wayside.

I am slowly erasing and rewriting the giant storyboard that is my future.

But part of this metamorphosis involves the very difficult and scary process of finding new goals, new hopes, new stars to shoot for. Of, in certain ways, designing a new person to become.

Now, perhaps this has something to do with the other things occurring in my life, mainly my transition from perceived female to perceived male. There is an almost necessary reinvention of self involved with such a life change.

But I want to take it beyond that. I am young, I have no commitments (no job, to significant other, no kids, no mortgage), and no attachments other than my parents, my cat, and my friends. I am in a prime position to upheave my life and change the path that I am walking on. (If we discount the fact that I also have no money, and some student debt)

So the questions then become: What do I do with this freedom? Who do I want to be?

And I don't have an answer.

At least, not a clear and solid one. I have had flashes, ningling feelings, patchwork glimpses of bits and pieces that I want.
All that's left is finding the backing to stitch them to, and the thread to tie it all together.

So I no longer have the clear-cut hopes I grew up with, the crumbling foundation that never supported me the way I wanted it to. Instead I no longer have other peoples' thoughts clouding my mind, and I'm trying to grow wings to stop the fall.

And that's a different kind of hope altogether.