I went to the sports camp after all, but decided to stay only one day. Both good decisions, even though being there felt like swimming through an oil slick. I felt as if I was drowning the entire time, could barely follow instructions at the workshops, and didn't spar at all because I was so out of it.

Funny thing, most women immediately read me as female, but men largely couldn't quite figure me out. It was only toward the end of the day when I had to put on a chest protector that it got gnarly. The men's chest protectors hinder my range of motion, so I use a women's one which is...uh... two clearly separated perky molded boobs *headdesk* The reaction was spectacular. You could literally see the lightbulbs going on on people's faces, and suddenly it was a very confident "she does this", "hold her there" etc. Kill me.

Reflecting on this day, one of the things that made the day worthwhile for me came out of a tangential discussion in one of the workshops. We were talking about goal-setting and somehow the conversation went into identity. That for most of us participating, being an athlete is an identity and that is reflected in our goal-setting behaviour. That while on a daily basis we might question our motivation to work out, or we might faceplant into the pizza on tough days, overall we do (our versions of) athletic things and set our goals in a certain way, because that's who we are now - athletes. And that is separate from how experienced or shitty or confident we might be at actually performing the athletic things.

This resonated with me. I am often told, "now that you want to be a man...", "if you're trying to be a man..." and that always irks me, because I always felt that it is not that I *want* to be a man. I just am, regardless of my wishes on the matter. And it sucks that I lost the genetic lottery, and it sucks that I was raised in a certain way and have some catching up to do in how to perform more traditional masculinity, but it feels wrong to say that I'm a "beginner man" or "aspiring man", "a wanna-be man". I just am. And I make choices based on that - how I speak or dress, what spaces I choose to occupy and from which to distance myself, what medical and legal steps I take to assert my identity, how I plan long-term.

And it feels weird to write this and I feel as if I have too much ego perhaps, but ultimately it's a very affirming thought and one that gives me back a feeling of balance. If it is okay to call myself an athlete, even though I'm not a pro, why would it not be okay to call myself a man, even if I have some catching up to do?