You’re probably familiar with the it. It’s often heard at AA meetings.

“Grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference.”

For me, as a person living with gender dysphoria, these words rang large in my life. Coupled with the repetitious “should I, shouldn’t I, should I, shouldn’t I” voice in my head, that just wouldn’t shut up… To the point where my entire life felt in limbo. It overshadowed EVERYTHING.

Of course the “should” was the big question of whether to transition.

From around the age of three, the acute awareness of the discrepancy between my mental and physical gender, had been a constant source of obsessive rumination.

And as I grew older, the serenity prayer plagued me…

I didn’t want to be trans. I wanted to be biologically male. But that wasn’t an option. So why couldn’t I just accept this thing I could not change? Or could I change it? Why did I feel so ill equipped to know the difference?

When people uttered platitudes like “just be true to yourself”, I felt an inner range rise up inside me. “I don’t get the luxury of that!” my inner voice would scream.

And so eventually, and in hindsight inevitably, I did take that leap five years ago. I got to a point where, when I tried to imagine my future on the course it was on, I just drew a blank. I simply couldn’t see a future continuing to live this life that felt like it belonged to somebody else, and so I finally jumped.

Five years on, the serenity prayer has a completely different meaning to me. It is no longer the prayer of confusion. A mantra that feels like a cruel joke or an impossible riddle.

Today, I sit back and I understand the serenity prayer and its wisdom. Today I am at peace knowing that I did change the things that were within my power to change and accept that I will never be biologically male.

But I also know there are still things that are within my power to change further. Personally, my biggest point of dysphoria has always been around what’s in my pants. At the same time I know that current surgery options just aren’t right for me. And so I have directed my focus on what I can change by creating prosthetic devices. First, I created the EZP, which has given me the freedom to use the men’s room like any other guy. The Joystick has made it possible for me to have the kind of sexual intimacy I want with my partner, and I continue to pour my energy into the Bionic, because it is within my power to bring into reality, even if it is by far my biggest challenge.

And so I keep plugging away (pun intended) at the things that are within my power to change, while accepting the things I cannot, because even though it took a while, I finally have the wisdom to know the difference.