Two years ago today I was in Mexico having the surgery that would make my body align with how my soul knew it should be.

In short, I became a eunuch.

The two years since have been full of emotional difficulties and wonderful experiences.

I had a seven month wait for any kind of hormone treatment. That was partly me being bloody-minded because I felt that the NHS should help me – and they did – eventually.

During that time I gained new insights into just how difficult the female menopause actually is: brain fog, disrupted sleep, lack of energy, and worst of all hot flushes!

During that same period the situation with my husband deteriorated and he asked me to move out. There followed four months of peace as I realised just what life could be like without the angst of living with somebody.

However, his experience was different as he was still living in the home that had been the backdrop of both of our mental illnesses.

It was while I was in the flat that I came to realise that I had neurodiverse traits while reading a book to help me better relate to my nephew. Once I realised that an awful lot of my life suddenly made sense!

The little sojourn in the flat ended abruptly when my husband started misusing his medications again and ended up cracking the toilet cistern and flooding the house. I had to move back to wort things out.

Things with my husband didn’t improve. We tried more couples counselling (we’d already had two or three different therapists over the years). That ended one day in Costa Coffee when I realised that it just wasn’t working. I actually meant how we were communicating, but he took it to mean our marriage … and I realised that I was exhausted and done and wasn’t about to challenge that belief.

Then he asked me to buy him out of the house while he looked for a flat to rent. He found one not too far from the house.

About a fortnight after he moved out, I had a heart attack. A mild heart attack is one that you remember. It was serious and way more debilitating than I thought at the time.

And there was the divorce notification! Unexpectedly expected. I hadn’t expected to get it via email without him saying anything about it first. The next stage in the proceedings won’t be until March.

Not long after that, my husband was diagnosed with emphysema.

Its not all been chaos and heartache – I have enjoyed the voyage of self-discovery that a potential autistic spectrum diagnosis offers.

Further, I have explored my body, gender, and sexuality – how things feel and work without testicles, but more about how I relate to myself and others. That has involved a bit of sex, both vanilla and kinky.

Mostly its involved making friends and exploring how healthy boundaries work.

Mostly, I am just me. As another friend said “I am just as castrated when I am washing the dishes”.

Whilst it can be exciting still, and its definitely exciting when somebody else is excited by it, it is just who I am now.

Its ordinary.

More importantly: I am at peace in my own body.

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Here’s my diary of the week I spent in Mexico: Diary at the Mexico Transgender Centre – Eunuchorn