When I was living as a guy, I did feel like there was a certain falsehood about it all. The ghosts of my past kept whispering in my mind, that what if my dysphoria really was all just because of my traumas. I was too scared to find out. And the more time I was on testosterone, and then after my surgery, the more scared I got. Kept brushing my doubts under the carpet. And I almost panicked every time the words "detransition" and "regret" ever popped up. I had to push it away and not think about it. When I didn't think about it, being a guy felt good. Like it was empowering and relieving.
But I was running away. My fears of possibly having made a mistake got stronger within myself the more time went on. The more forcibly I pushed them away. Furiously. Eventually I just couldn't anymore. When Anna showed me her dysphoria and I felt it as though it was my own, I panicked and I knew. I knew I couldn't hide from my fears anymore. I don't miss living like that, but I miss not knowing. Truth hurts. Oh I wish I had figured it out much sooner. Before I had started self-medicating with testo. But I was so young and it was way too soon after the traumas. Even if I could go back in time there wasn't enough time back then. I was too suicidal and too fragile. Even if I had managed to figure it out at age 19-21, I likely wouldn't have been able to heal from that mess of trauma feelings and it likely would have driven me to suicide... instead of transition and detransition.
It allowed me to live and figure it out and heal at a time I could handle it. But at what price? At what fucking price?! It feels so cruel. If only the treatment for gender dysphoria wasn't so permanent. It feels like having gotten a leg amputated cause it "was the best thing to do at the time" but then a decade later realising I could have saved that leg. I feel like transitioning was like having a healthy limb amputated, then missing it, wanting it back, and knowing I could have bloody kept it. Well... technically that's exactly what happened, with my top surgery. Imagine if I had known back then, but still had to make the decision to change my body, knowing I wouldn't survive otherwise? Then it was better I didn't know. I feel like transitioning did save me but it also ruined me in the process. Like a slow-killing poison that heals you from instant death. Yeah, exactly like that. The treatment that saved my life made me ill.
I do like my changes from the testo, I do but... I still wish I hadn't started taking it. Cause it made everything so complicated and painful and I'm gonna struggle a lot to live with this permanently androgynous body. I don't want to change it back, cause now I've fallen in love with it, but I hate being in this position. Of loving my body's masculinity because I got a taste of its sweetness, but being seen as a freak because of loving it. Sometimes, these past few days, I wish to go back on testo. I don't wanna lose my hairiness and I'm starting to fear it going away. I still hold on to being a woman, its comforting embrace, and I love my female gender, but I can't help that I also love what testo gave me. And wanting it to stay. Did I go off it too soon? Was it a rash decision? I need to give myself more time off from it, perhaps the panic won't last.
I still feel the same about my chest, or possibly worse. Cause it was a while ago that I cried and let it all out, and the tensions and grief have been building up again since. I feel like my tensions are worse than ever. I literally sit with my shoulders up to my ears and I don't even notice it for hours. When I notice it I make the effort to relax. But my tensions are a ping-pong effect: when I relax one area another one tenses, when I relax that area the first one tenses again. And it's like that all over my body. I'm never fully physically relaxed. That is a state I simply cannot reach anymore, except from right after my boob cry. Perhaps I need to try to let it out like that again. It collects so quickly.
I feel an aching restlessness crawling around within me like maggots spreading around a volatile poison. One of my family's most loved cats died a few days ago. I really loved that cat, and it was my mother's favourite. They were very close. I don't have it in my head how old the cat was, but around 15 years, I think. Her name was Nemi, like the Norwegian comic series character, that goofy goth girl with a best friend called Cyan. The cat was a dark calico, almost black with with some brown/orange spots and she always had one or two white whiskers while the other whiskers were black. She had a combination of black and pink paw "beans", a very slender and small body type but noticably overweight. Big, intense, bright yellow eyes. One of her ears was messed up from ear lice and she looked really adorkable with just one ear up. She was often either asleep in my mom's lap, begging for candy or sprinting around super energetic, and a total attention whore. She was born with my family, and her cat mother is still around and alive with my parents. I can't grieve this now. I have to bottle it. Too much. As soon as my mother told me the news my only emotional reaction was "no not more grief" and I just had to push away those feelings. There's no space for them. But it's still tearing at me, like claws scratching on my back and it leaves wounds that bleed.
I don't wanna talk about the cat or what I feel about her death. I refuse to look into those feelings anytime soon. My chest grief is suffocating me already, anything more and I would be breathing tears. But I don't feel the same about my testo changes as I do about my chest. And since I fully accepted my testo changes, I've begun to connect to them in a way that's very similar to how I used to feel about them as a man. I just love them the same as a woman. I don't know why, I just love them. My body hair and beard feels like a comforting blanket of fur. I wish there was a way to preserve it without taking testosterone, cause I don't want my psychological changes to go back to that, and I don't wanna stink pungent again either. I'm probably gonna stop taking the testo-blockers though. No harm no foul with that. Just so that I can slow down the reversing a bit. That might be enough to calm me down about my fur. Also I'm on a very low dose of them so probably don't need to wean off them first.
Somehow I take some strange kind of pride in being a hairy woman. Like a cute female werewolf. I really wouldn't mind having hairy boobs. I think that would be adorable, and incredibly cosy. Yeah I saw some pics of hairy boobs online and it got me in awe... Body hair is amazing. I just feel that and I can't lie. I find it sexy on other women, and I love it on myself. It reminds me of cats, I think. Cause they're very cute and also very hairy, and cuddly. Perhaps hairy women remind me of cats. I dream about cuddling another hairy woman and how sweet and sexy that would be. That'll be great for a new fantasy! Smoothness is so overrated, and so last century! Shouldn't the shaving craze be ending soon, huh? Just let women be hairy, for fuck's sake. God damn beauty standards... Well it would be enough to just cuddle another woman and her loving my hairiness. Cause I do know I'm exceptionally hairy for a woman.
There's also another reason I don't shave much anymore (except from my head and pussy): it reduces my sensation in the area when it's shaven. Like the sensation on my skin is a lot more dulled when shaved compared to unshaven. And I like being able to feel my own touch, even when it's just me rubbing my lower legs together or scratching my stomach. So I also feel much better physically to not shave my body.
I totally love being a woman, but for whatever reason I just totally also love having a testo-spiced female body. You remember that "candy and liquor" metaphor I made a while ago? Well, get ready for cherry rum chocolate pralines! I'm the kind of candy that gets you tipsy, cause this punch has been spiked! Well thinking about that made me feel better. I really do love my body, and it's good I can remind myself of that sometimes, despite the pain of how I ended up with it. It makes the pain more bearable. It's strange to feel that bitterness of grief and that sweetness of love at the same time. It's like the detrans coin with one dark and one light side is spinning so fast it looks like a grey ball.
I'm so tired I think I'll go to sleep soon. And cuddle with my own body in bed. It feels extra good after orgasm to just hold and stroke myself. My orgasms are so good these days, it makes me want them more and look forward to them. I don't know how but they're actually much stronger and longer lasting on estrogen than they were on testosterone. And way easier to manage multiples. My orgasms are extra feel-good and comforting. They like... vibrate all my parts back into place again. I really do believe orgasms have some kind of healing properties. I wonder if that's the real reason why females can orgasm, cause it's not actually an important part of reproduction like it is for males. But maybe females orgasm as a way to heal themselves, like why cats are purring? I dunno maybe that just sounds super weird and I'm way too tired and really fucking gay but damn I think that's a very cute and sexy theory. Like I'd totally wanna help giving some sexy girl lots of healing orgasms, if you know what I mean... ugh I'm hopeless...ly single.
By the way, just gotta share a really hot lesbian fantasy I had last... yesterday. It was so good I just kept fantasising about cuddling with her after I had orgasmed. I magined I was with a quite heavy, very butch woman who hit on me at a night club. She had short, dark brown hair and wore black baggy pants and baggy black jacket, wore no makeup, but she had golden earrings. She brought me into the bathroom (a large single stall one, that I remember from in actual night club in real life) and had me sit on the toilet lid where she touched and fingered me until I got really wet. Then she fucked me with a strapon. She had really big boobs that she had hidden under her baggy clothes and was insecure about, but let them out when she noticed I was really excited and into her. And they were just really sexy, big and hanging so I just cuddled up into them and kissed them and just buried my face in them as she fucked me. She orgasmed from me kissing her boobs and her rubbing her clit against mine. Then she kissed and embraced me as I orgasmed. Then afterwards we went out to the dancefloor and hugged and kissed in a slow dance and she told me she was very surprised that I liked her boobs.
It was a very sweet fantasy. I dunno but since I was at that lgbt group last time and totally got super blushy over TWO hot butch women there I kiiinda realised I totally have a thing for that. So erhm it sparked my sexual fantasy creativity. The woman in that fantasy looked very different from the irl ones at the lgbt cafe though. Well, thinking about that suddenly got me very horny... no wonder why!
Just one last thing: I'm not sure why I don't feel like talking for these past few days or however long it's been... I just need a bit of distance. I think it was just starting to feel a little suffocating cause too much internet socialising in general and I just need to recharge my batteries. If you'd want to reply to this text that's fine and I'd want to read that, even if I may not feel up for responding right away. But also fine if you don't wanna reply to it. I've read most of the messages you've sent me so far. Just so you know about that. I'm going to bed now and no idea when you'll see this, but I might be asleep this whole day... so yeah.
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