It was quite an odd experience when I first moved to Dublin. It was a dream come true to make it up here and to live independently, but I also had to deal with some unexpected issues. I had been suffering slightly before I moved to my apartment. There were lots of big and little things that I wanted to escape and put behind me. I soon found out that I couldn’t run away from these issues. I also had to adjust to spending the majority of my time alone, (something that I didn’t really struggle with but had to become accustomed to). Sitting here, flicking through my journals I have found this entry from the first few weeks of my life here:

Deep breaths. Much of my days seem to be spent taking deep breaths. I breathe deep when I think of something nice. I breathe deep when I’m overwhelmed. I breath deep when I’m excited or I’m nervous. Time stops when you take a breath. Something can become so clear to you or you can learn to let things go. These days I walk through town alone. I look at books and magazines with mild intrigue. I look at art in shops or in the streets. I hug myself to warm up and I feel the sun on my face. I run my fingers over smooth surfaces. I sit and drink black coffee. I apply dark red lipstick. I stretch out my long arms to admire my red nail polish. I get sad. I think about love. I laugh at myself for this sadness. I walk along the quays. I absentmindedly watch people as they go about their days. I watch the seagulls fly above my head and the pigeons search for food. I put together outfits that make me feel cosy yet beautiful. I sit outside a coffee shop and read books that I’ve been meaning to for a long time. I don’t open or respond to my texts for a few hours. I stop and eat a salad. I stop and eat a pizza. I spend my last tenner not worrying where I’m going to get more money from. I stare at all of the different buildings. I admire some of the beautiful architecture. I snuggle up in my heavy cardigan and listen to music on a seat at the bus stop. I listen to Lana while watching the world. I stop being a part of life and instead observe for a while. Am I happy? Mostly. Am I sad? Occasionally. Am I suffering? Rarely. Am I okay? Always.

I spent my first few weeks here in an almost trance-like state. I’d always imagined that upon leaving my old life behind, I would be invincible from all of the things that once affected me negatively. But this was not the case. As the saying goes, you cannot run from your problems.

But I had been counting on it. All of my plans revolved around getting up to Dublin, getting over my past and focusing on my dreams. But this could not happen for another while. I was forced to take time out from my big plans and to focus on myself. This was something that I was quite reluctant to do due to the fact that I’m young and (quite annoyingly) always in a hurry. But by the time Christmas came, after a few short months of taking it easy, I was ready to start fulfilling my desires. Sometimes making time for yourself is so important.

Watch My Transgender Journey (So Far) below:

Read The Lessons I’ve Learned Since Starting College here.

4 Comments on “My First Days in Dublin.

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