Years ago, I was working for an apartment building. I was talking with the manager (J) on a couple occasions where he mentioned a guy (R) who used to work for him. Real tech-savvy guy. But the story wasn’t about that, but rather about the time he had to be taken to the hospital (from his home) because he mutilated his own genitals – in other words, he cut off his balls.
Now, J referred to this guy affectionally as a “wingnut” – his term for people who are ever so slightly crazy. He mentioned that after this incident, R started dressing and acting like a woman. He clearly didn’t understand (and back then, neither did I) about the transgender condition. I now recognize that this “guy” was like me, a transgender woman, and was suffering from gender dysphoria on a scale that I can’t even imagine. J went on to say that (and from this point on I’ll use the correct pronouns for R) she still works for the company and apparently lives full-time as a woman.
My gender dysphoria has never driven me to such an extreme of action. I may not even experience it at all, but if I do, it’s just vague uneasiness/unhappiness with my body, and perhaps a healthy portion of apathy. Everyone is different when it comes to that.