I came out as trans three years ago today.

I was drunk, as I always was. Desperate. By myself on Christmas eve. Lots of friends, but none I saw too often. Freshly divorced. Unhappy partner. No family to speak of. Too little to lose...

So, like so much Jason Mendoza, I lobbed a molotov cocktail at my unhappiness. Posted that picture. My boyfriend was at a movie at the time. They were furious. Said I should've asked them first.

I resented them so much for it. Now I see what they meant. I was being impulsive...

But try as I might, I couldn't not be impulsive. Not being me was killing every bit of happiness. I could pound whiskey to dull the pain, but it was always waiting for me when I sobered up, along with all the people I was routinely disappointing.

I had no chance as him.

I lost friends, family, and in time, that partner. For this, and unrelated reasons.

But that bomb never felt like a mistake. I was free. I didn't regret it one iota because for every misstep I made, there was never going to be a right way to come out.

And I started to rebuild.

I transitioned alone. It was one of the most painful experiences of my life, but unlike the pain I was routinely drinking away, this pain felt important. Rewarding.

And every day, in my mirror and in all other ways, I was a little less drunken pain and a little more me.

By the way, the final words in that post? "Please be cool, mom."

She wasn't. We don't speak anymore. But that was important, too.

Painful, but important.

I am too impulsive. For sure. But that impulsiveness doesn't exist in a vacuum. I suffer long past when I should, and then part of me, inevitably, will throw bombs until we have a different problem to solve. Hopefully one we can.

And in decades of doing this, I finally got it:

Coming out of the closet was the bomb I should've thrown first. As soon as I knew.

I could've saved a lot of people a lot of pain.

But that man I thought I was would be so proud of who I am.

He'd see me sleeping without booze and marvel.

My next video will be his eulogy.

Happy holidays, everybody. Whichever you celebrate.

Happy Yuletide to my witches.

And well wishes to my queer, trans, and nonbinary siblings in particular.

Especially if you're still waiting to come out.

Hard to be a sad drunk when you have new tits.