This is a ramble a few days into not smoking, so don’t even bother reading, it’s just a personal record in the mist of renewing collagen properties.
Where next? The nature of one’s reality can change quickly. For every step forward, the floor falls away behind, there is no stepping back.
However, onto the business of increasingly cliché, self-indulgent, auto-biographical transgender realisations! For all the muddle in the brain, if the symptoms of gender dysphoria are there then it is time to get to work. I do not choose to suffer, but I also have no idea what I am doing, so guess what? It’s time to learn.
Time to learn about things like body measurements, style, make-up, voice, posture and the other minutiae. The goal is not to stereotype, nor is it to express femininely per se, rather it is to create the perception.
I stayed in the city this weekend, as an unknown entity I was able to experiment a little and I looked like….well, let’s say I looked good from behind. As much as it made me feel right and elated to try out in public, I am obviously aware that I was fooling nobody as to my bio-sex. In clothes shops I saw a male section and a female section, but saw nothing for me, curious, though again, I never have.
Therefore, to create the perception, I have to put in the work. Slinging on a random dress and slapping on some crud isn’t going to cut it, because this isn’t some game, some experiment or fetish, its therapy. Body dysmorphia, and just looking like a damn clown in general, is no way to be. I want to get it right, because I am sick of being perceived as something I don’t feel, regardless of how I’m not truly interested in fashion, nor painful and expensive procedures to destroy my body in various ways.
Yet, change is necessary, or the psychological dystopia will doubtlessly play on. One interesting and harsh revelation is making a switch, from being a pretty decent looking guy to a pretty ugly female. But guess what percentage of women are that happy with their bodies? Exactly. The goal isn’t to look good anyway, it’s just to be in a way to be perceived as female at all. Keep the sights realistic.
The boy is gone. The only secret of myself I thought I would never tell anyone of course turned out to be the biggest possible one. I have stopped referring to myself in the masculine as often as possible, using a neutral pronoun. There is no man in my head, so to say I am male is to lie, aside the physically obvious. To admit the big secret is to be free. Freedom can be ugly, so be aware.
One mistake I made though was telling my mother without a plan of being able to explain and answer questions as we go along, and it has caused much friction. It can’t really be explained, so seeing needs to become believing. Trying to explain the difference between ‘identity’ and ‘expression’ is difficult for a female in a male’s body dressed as a male claiming to be female to someone who only knows you as a male.
All the signs point to a new wall post conflict – If you are female, be female. If you are male, be male. That’s what people do innately in general, regardless of whether it is in a masculine or feminine way. If you are something else then be that. Don’t be who you are not. Just be.
Emotionally, it’s just a gush of joy and love much of the time, I won’t be held back, and if folks think I’m some flamboyant weirdo then fine, that’s only because I haven’t got my side of it down. The voice stuff is going to be coming up real soon, absolutely terrifying, but for me it seems absolutely necessary. I’m also allowing myself to be a lot more vulnerable, not because it is a female trait, but because I am vulnerable and I’m sick of putting up walls, they prevent love from growing.
To change identity, then to an extent I have to change my role. This however has to be in terms of what is acceptable and affirmable to my identity. I’m not going to compromise who I am to become someone else, I’m going to become who I am in a way that is acceptable and affirming to me, balanced with creating a perception that allows the affirmation to latch onto dysphoria like a spider on a fly.
Hehehe, like I said, the floor behind falls into darkness and there is no way back, each step confirms this to be a truer path than I was on.
Onwards to liberation!
If you are like me, then you may know what I’m attempting to say, and if you don’t, please accept who I am, I will do the same for you. I’m not trying to be freaky, not convincing myself of anything, not trying to have fun, not making a statement, not being sexually gesticulative, not trying to tear down society, I’m just trying to break down the walls of a life I created that wasn’t honest to who I really was.
I have to be who I am, so do you, otherwise, who can suggest who to be? I could see how a trans-person could get quite pretentious about the whole issue, just as much as I can understand certain angry outsider viewpoints. However, if people don’t like it then it’s too bad, because I cannot let myself suffer to be untrue. I may be a hypocrite, but I’m not sorry.
Absorb my love, or have it forced upon you 😀