To bi or not to bi, that's the question

I really need to figure this shit out. I'll try to go back to my childhood and look at my first crush and then move on and see what sort of pattern might reveal itself. Am I really into men or not? Let's find out... You like that title? I hope it's not too sublte.

1. First crush ever
The first crush I can remember that I ever had, I was not very young. I was 8, and this was a bunch of months but less than a year before the abuse. It was a teacher, I think around 22 years old. A woman. All the boys in the class had a crush on her. She was truly super sweet, invited the whole class to her home one day, and everyone liked her. She had half her face paralysed but no one gave her any shit about it, everyone thought she was beautiful (she truly was) and went out of their ways to defend her if needed. I didn't feel weird about crushing on her because everyone with even the slightest inclination towards girls did! However I was too scared to tell anyone about it cause I was pretty sure I was the only girl to have a crush on her. I wasn't thinking about sex back then at all. I just got warm, fluffy feelings around her, and some tingles in my pussy that I didn't know what to make of really. But for a childish crush, I think it was genuine. Or at least I can't see why not. The woman was absolutely amazing, at least from that I remember everyone loved her, the other teachers too. It wasn't a very strong crush and definitely not obsessive. I just really liked her and felt warm and tingly in her company. I didn't over-think about her at the time. But I also didn't really understand that I had a crush on her, cause like... I was "meant" to like boys... and then that I felt that for a girl, it confused me.

2. Second crush
At around the same time I felt kind of a slight crush towards one of my bullies, a guy of my age. I really don't think that was a real crush, but my fear of him that made my mind try to make him "nice" by creating positive feelings towards him. I was scared of him, always tense around him and I hated him. I didn't actually want to be in a relationship, or kiss him or even give him a hug. It was just those abstract feelings fluttering about.

3. Crushes soon after the childhood sexual assault
I got several obsessive crushes on boy classmates during ages 10-12. Even one of them I got extremely obsessive over when he got a girlfriend, who was also a classmate of mine. I wanted to kill her for "taking him" and fantasised about stabbing her to death, when I was 12 and really suicidal and messed up from that trauma at age 9. My entire mind was rampantly out of control, I dissociated a lot, self-harmed, constantly wanted to die, was at my first "war" with Anna whom I had just realised was going to stick around forever. Just to remind you of how my psyche was doing at that point in my life: not very well. The male classmate I was obsessed with had no interest in me but I simply didn't care. I felt like I would force him to be with me if I could. But I was also really despondent, shy and just too fucking depressed to even try anything like that. It was a storm in my head but it never leaked out. I felt no sexual feelings towards him. This was probably the most fucked up of my "crushes" and no I don't think I was actually into him. Just very, very damaged, lonely and hurting.

4. Another teacher
From age 11 to 15 I had a long-lasting crush in a male science teacher, who was 27 when I was 11. My best friend was into him as well and we were both being silly teen girls about it. It was only his looks I liked and his sexy voice, but I don't think I ever had sexual fantasies about him, not even later into my teens when I had definitely gotten interested in thinking about sex. I had obsessive romantic fantasies about him, and a lot of "taboo fantasies" about dating him, as his student. I think it was the "forbiddeness" that got me drawn to him, sharing that interest with my best friend and that it was a little extra exciting that he was quite a lot older than me. But did I truly want him? I don't think so.

5. Early teens and with a more active sexual mind
At age 13 I had just started karate and instantly "fell" for a guy there. He was from another village nearby and 2 years older. That was also obsessive and ultimately really shallow. I was not interested in actually getting to know him as a person, but I did have sexual fantasies, and lots of sexual nightly dreams, about him. In my diaries at the time I wrote about him constantly. I filled up entire books just rambling about how I felt for him and all my fantasies, and all the details about how we had accidentally touched each other or gotten eye contact at karate practice. Then about 2 years later when I was 15 and still doing karate, he got his long hair cut off and I was no longer interested in him. That attraction died with his hair. Was I truly into him? I don't think so. I was obsessed with an idea of him, but wasn't into the actual person that he was. We did have maybe just two actual conversations during those 2 years I pined for him, and I didn't like his personality those two times I saw it. Yet I kept obsessing and imagining he was different. That is actually a very common pattern with all of my "love obsessions" that I was just pining in silence but didn't want to actually get to know the person I was obsessed about, or I wanted to get to know them but then I didn't like them and "fell out of love" however messed up that may seem.

(Pause for reflection)
I felt very lonely in my teens and childhood. I was obsessed with the dream of finding a "prince charming" or "the right one" or "my one true love" but no one wanted me cause I was an unpopular, bullied and awkward aspie girl with weird hair and clothes and a bad posture. I've always known I'm not everyone's cup of tea, but I know I'm definitely some people's favourite whiskey. But in my teens and childhood I felt very lonely and unwanted. I wanted romances and kisses just like most teen girls, but I didn't get that and it made me very frustrated and feel even more unwanted and just hopeless. I think that, in combination with the trauma at age 9, and also that I was dreamy and quite detached from reality already to begin with (I was stuck believing in childhood fairytales much longer than what's "normal" for kids), made me obsessed by my ideas of people instead of actually interested in them. I was incredibly unrealistic and overly dreamy so to the point it became unhealthy.

(Back to the story telling)
6. Realising interest in girls/women
Then at age 14, I went to a local church for confirmation. I chose that myself, out of curiosity, and my parents hated it and said that the church was brainwashing me... yeah, my parents are kinda hardcore atheists, although my mother is slightly agnostic. Slightly. However at that church group, which was really quite small, I got crushes on not just one but TWO girls. One of them I just liked looking at, really. She was very pregnant, quite a bit older than me and I knew I could only have her as eye-candy so I kept my distance and it was never brought up or noticed. The other girl, however... she's the one who made me realise I'm really into girls. I pined for her and really wanted to get to know her, but I was so painfully shy and also worried the church would have an issue with it if they noticed gay flirting there. I didn't know if that particular church was gay-friendly or not. It was never brought up one way or the other. Her name is Elena and at that time she lived in another village nearby and at church was the only times I could meet her, cause we didn't go to the same school. That was a dilemma. My fantasies about her were wild. Both romantically and sexually. I wasn't too aware of oral sex even being a thing back then, so those fantasies mostly only consisted of kissing, boob-touching and masturbating each other to orgasm. Likely also some pussy on pussy rubbing, aka tribbing. I'd say that counts as gay enough for my uneducated 14 year old mind.

This one gets two paragraphs cause apparently I've a lot to say about her! Continues: At the day of confirmation she helped me put on a necklace that I was having a fight with, just out of the blue she asked if I needed help. It made me so weak in the knees I nearly lost my balance, and then I couldn't think of anything else for the rest of that day, week, year. When I didn't see her anymore after the confirmation had ended, I kept pining for a few more months, but then eventually let go of her. I saw her once more, 2-3 years later, at the bus stop in the village I lived in. She walked into a bus when I walked out of another, and didn't get the opportunity to even say hi. Then never saw her again. Was I really into her? I think so. It was a groundbreaking crush for me, to realise I like girls. It had a huge impact. Although my focus on her was very sexual, I also didn't actually know her so it makes sense I focused on the physical aspect then, but also felt warm and weak around her, and more shy than otherwise. I don't think I was actually obsessed with her, also because when I knew she was out of reach, I could move on from her. Not right away but within a reasonable time. I always remember her in a kind of special way though, mostly with a sort of gentle nostalgia, for the self-discovery that my crush on her led to.

7. My first sexuality confusions
That following autumn (2004) I found an article about gay and bi girls in a glossy teen magazine and it dawned upon me. I thought I must be bisexual. Briefly that winter, I wondered if I might be a lesbian, cause when I thought of girls vs boys, I felt like I'd rather be with a girl and like my attraction to boys wasn't quire right. But then I thought I was crazy for thinking that, I had lots of crushes on boys and only 2-3 on girls! If anything that must mean I'm more straight-leaning bisexual, right? Well that was my thinking back then. Sometime during spring 2005 I came out as bisexual, to my mother and best friend. I didn't tell the school cause it was the very last term ever (9th glade) there and I thought it would be better and best to just wait that out and not care about that stupid school. They had no business knowing. But yes, I did come out as bisexual all that time ago! When I was 15 or just turned 16, I don't remember the exact time but I think it was sunny weather outside when I told my mother while we were in a car and she drove me somewhere. And she told me that's "the ideal sexuality".

8. First gay date
Sometime that spring I met a girl from Qruiser, for a date. I think she's actually a lesbian, but possible she was bisexual instead, I dunno my memory of her looks and vibes just screams GAY but yeah whatever... She was a couple of years older than me, Asian, punk-sport butch who couldn't speak Swedish and barely English so we didn't understand each other well. She was cute as hell but we didn't connect at all and the date was a flop. But I mean it was my first date with another girl, at just age 15! Considering all of my issues... I'm proud of myself for that.

9. Barely a crush, but maybe noteworthy
For the last few months of my 9th grade we got a new girl as a classmate. She was totally my type and I got curious about her. But I also noticed that she was too shy and I probably wouldn't get along much with her due to that, so I acknowledged that and just liked her as eye-candy. Also I wasn't out as bi or anything at that school, so that also held me back from flirting with girls. But what I felt for her, I think it was a healthy thing. Was a pretty weak but still noticable "I like this girl" feeling.

(Long sidenote about my type)
When I say "my type" in terms of girls/women.... it's very definitely a clear type. Most girls I've crushed on looked pretty much the same. Shoulder long blonde straight hair, very light skin, that soft pastel feminine style, either healthy weight and more or less curvy or really thin with a small frame like that "petite" kind of women that are so small even I look huge in comparison! They look very fair, bright and kinda angelic with platinum blonde hair and snow white skin. I think I like that type cause it's my feminine opposite: meaning my style has always been dark, with heavy makeup, lots of black and dark rich accent colours like wine red, petrol and deep purple, but also bright pink details. So they're like the "angelic" opposite to my "demonic" thing going on, in a symbolic kinda sense. Or that's how I've always seen it. Like a yin to my yang kinda thing but two feminine women, one light and the other dark. I think that's why I prefer blondes and the sweetly softly bright feminine, to contrast my (usually) black hair and sharply dark femininity. Lilith wants to date virgin Mary? No I'm kidding. I don't actually put any sort of personality or value into that type. It's just a look. I do like other types of women, but this in particular feels like truly "my type" as a trademark kinda thing! Cause it happened unintentionally, really a lot. That first teacher, the church girl Elena and that briefly new classmate all fit that "type" to a tee. They seriously looked like they could have been mother and sisters!

This just hit me: I've ALWAYs had a clear type for women/girls, even when I've broadened my taste over the years and just noticing more styles and looks are really pretty and hot... but I have literally never had ANY type for men/guys at all. Not even in the slightest. There have been more masculine guys most likely because feminine guys are quite rare, especially straight/bi fem guys. And I mostly just fell for whichever guy was closest to me! But I think I had at least 3 fem guy crushes, who were all into women, although 2 of them were trans guys, but then 1 of them was a straight cis guy. He wore makeup and had long nails, wore very colourful, kinda "ragdoll" style clothes and I loved his style so hard. But I was a trans guy at the time and he wasn't into me and whatever. I remember he just looked really fucking cute, but yeah he was also just another obsession with no real depth to it.

Actually that was my worst obsession ever. I online stalked him and thought he was my only reason to live, until he got a girlfriend, then I had no reason to live anymore so I tried to kill myself. 5 times. Although he unknowingly gave me an orgasm once... whoops! My neck is very sensitive... and probably just as orgasmic as my pussy is. So when he gave me a neck massage that was like him literally masturbating me. I came. One of my most awkward orgasms ever. But I digress. I have always liked both feminine and masculine styles on men, but I don't think I ever truly cared which of what they were. None of my guy crushes look the other one alike.

R had no style at all, was kinda boring looking and just wore sporty sweatpants and hoodies, you know that really bland and boring kind, and his hair was just that regular short guy style, not dyed. He was quite overweight, but no one really knew how much he weighed cause the scale only went up to 115 kg and he weighed more than that, but I don't think it was much more, and he looked more like he weighed around 90-100 kg, at 185 cm tall. Come to think of it, he wasn't very masculine physically. Like completely hairless, quite high voice, no facial hair. Perhaps that's a little odd at age 17-18. I've never thought of that before. Also he had gynecomastia so he likely had some hormonal issues. Then my next bofriend M was super thin at barely 50 kg and same height, he was actually severely underweight. He had a bit of a punk/skinhead style but also liked some goth stuff. I remember he got a brocade vest tailored cause clothes didn't exist in his very tall, narrow size, but also he was really broke and couldn't afford much nice clothes.

My point in there has never been any sort of pattern to what type of looks the men I've had something with, whether experiences or just obsessions. They've all looked very different, and randomly so. So that's why I say I don't have a type or preference when it comes to men. It seems that with women I feel drawn to them in a much more specific way, like my heart just knows what it wants and looks for similar traits for a next crush, etc... but with men, it was always just completely random and I rarely got sexually into handsome men, only the not so attractive ones, with just a few exceptions, but in those cases I was instead obsessed with their looks and didn't like their minds. With women I think I... have strangely been both more picky and more realistic. Like a hell of a lot more realistic and never actually obsessed, except with just one girl, but that was a celebrity, and not someone I met in reality. I'm getting onto something here... and I'm sure I'll get more into that eventually as I proceed here, but just thought I'd bring it up as it hit me, so you can see how my mind reflects on this and uncover it bit by bit, while I'm going through my past.

(Back to the story telling)
10. Celebrity crush gone haywire
Okay, moving forward. I think if there's any celebrity crushes I should mention here, it's Berny Pålsson. Might sound like a guy's name but it's a nickname for Bernadette. I discovered her autobiographical book sometime that year (2005, to remind you) and I noticed that she looked exactly like me, with the half black-half white dyed hair, and a skimpy, hyper feminine punk-metal style that her journalists referred to as "punk princess". It was like looking into a mirror when I saw pictures of her. And reading her autobiography felt like I was reading my own diary. Well, she was a million times more extreme than me, but I recognised myself in almost all of it to a lesser degree. She was also bisexual, she was also cutting herself, she was also struggling with various mental health issues (including anxiety, depression, borderline... but then she's schizophrenic and a heavy drug addict as well as alcoholic which luckily I'm not) and also had issues with sex addiction although at that time I was still a virgin but addicted to masturbation. My birth name was the same as one of her middle names. She wrote the book at age 17-19 and was at age 22 when I was 15, so a bit older but not a huge difference, and she lived like a teen anyhow.

I did crush on her... obsessively. Very obsessively. I was into her sexually too. Except from when she looked like a totally drugged, drunken and bleeding from self-harm wounds everywhere... she was hot. Like damn, I've never before or after seen such a deliciously softly super curvy fucking perfect hourglass-shape body with such an incredibly beautiful yet adorably cute face... ever before in my life! Fuck, she was extremely gorgeous, and especially enticing to look at when she stuffed her probably DD-cups into push-up bras and that round, big butt in flared mini skirts so short you could see her panties... that made me drool really a lot. She wasn't at all super thin. I'd say she was upper range of healthy weight for some time and then a little overweight. If there's anything I'd call a perfect body, she totally had it. And I'm saying that now as no longer even remotely obsessed with her. She just had the greatest looking body I have ever seen, all time. She doesn't look as good anymore though. Time and lots of drugs and mental illness tends to not have the most kind effects on your body. She's 36 now but looks like half-dead 50 year old.

I obsessively read her book, over and over, brought it with me everywhere. It was my bible. Literally. I lived by its words, which wasn't good considering the content! Yeah, her book did inspire me to cut myself more, overdose on my medications more, attempt suicide more, and made me think I had schizophrenia. It wasn't a good influence. I could write more about her, but let's not make it too long. I'm way over her now, and this is just reflecting over my past. Actually, my best friend told me that Berny had a daughter that she named Laura and that's why my best friend had bad vibes to my new name. She thought I knew about that and had deliberately named myself after the kid. I didn't know a damn thing about it. I guess we just have the same taste in names, or something. But I googled it and even read through Berny's blog all the way back to 2014 to try to find something about that but there was nothing.

The closest I could find was that she was pregnant for some time back in 2014 but had a miscarriage, and then there was nothing about her being pregnant again or having a kid, as far as I could find. I don't know if I've lost enough connection to my "best friend" to think she might have lied to me or if my research skills just weren't good enough. It could be so that my former extreme obsession Berny has a daughter with the same name as me, but, it was a pure coincidence if that's so. A lot of that has gone on with me and Berny, that we just have unbelievably much in common in really random ways. It's possible we're some kind of distant soulmates or whatever. It's strange, but ultimately I don't really care anymore. So what? Let's move on.

11. Getting actual experiences, mid teens
The first 2-ish years of gymnasium (ages 16-17) I had very many short-lived, obsessive crushes on guys. I met Max who was a classmate of mine, 19 year old nerdy ginger guy. He was cute and good-looking but I didn't feel attracted to him. I did however get my first few sexual experiences with him. His was the first dick I sucked, he was the first person to touch my boobs and pussy. It was consensual but I knew already back then I wasn't into him. I was just happy that finally someone wanted me, and he was kind and sweet. So I mostly just went along with it, cause I had a chance. The sexual stuff did turn me on though, like really a lot, I soaked my panties every single time, but I was scared to let him inside me. That felt like a step I just couldn't take with him.

12. First girl on girl experience
And then I had that flop of a threesome with him and another girl. I wanted to fuck her. I would have liked her inside me... I was totally all over her and really into her, it felt so amazing! Like I was sooo eager and turned on by her, and touching her felt so good and just... I dunno it just gave me a very special, firey feeling... but she was only interested in him and when I noticed that I had completely not gotten the chance at girl sex which I had been promised, I got sad and uninterested in the whole thing. Immediately stopped touching her. I felt gross and rapey. And I felt terrible when I just sat by the bed and watched him fucking her, wasn't even turned on anymore. I think I was sad that he got to fuck her while I was rejected. Of course he still wanted me, and asked me again if I wanted to, but I wanted her! He knew I was bisexual and he was bi as well. But I doubt that she was. She might have been bicurious though, but yeah whatever I knew absolutely nothing about her at all so I can't know if she was not really into girls or just not into me. We had not seen each other before that day, so it's very likely she was just not into me.

13. The rape
I then met my rapist online whom I only wanted a friendship with. I had no romantic or sexual feelings for him at all, prior to the rape. And obviously not after it either, cause that didn't turn me on! Yeah... that was a joke. I don't think my fantasies about him as of late have ever been any kind of sign of me actually being into him. Honestly I can't even remember what he looked like anymore. Time erased my memory of his face, as I only saw him for a few hours on that one day. Also, perhaps more relevant now: he was a homophobe. I don't think he knew about my same sex attraction, because he never talked about that and I thought it was best not to mention it. But he did rant about how very scared he was that gay men would "jump" him and... ironically enough, rape him. I don't think he'd deserve that, actually. I don't think anyone would. Makes me really wonder how huge issues he had, though. Maybe mine were minor in comparison...

He does play a very big part in all of this, although he was clearly never a crush, boyfriend or hookup of mine. He's the odd one out, on my list of people I've had sex with. I feel a lot like I have a strange kind of severed connection to him. I do not like him, but I've been obsessed with him too. I've fantasised about sex and even romance, with him, several years after he raped me. I've tried to track him down and find him in real life, just a year or so ago, but to no avail. Although I still have the phone number he gave me all those years ago, written in a diary, but I don't dare to call it. Perhaps some day I'll gather enough courage to. Perhaps I need to heal a little bit more first, just in case he still uses that number and might pick up the phone.

(Another pause)
Let's take a pause and reflect a little. The thought has hit me... I've read/heard about that sometimes when straight people get raped/sexually assaulted by someone of the same sex, they start thinking they might be gay, and I think this is a pretty common reaction. At least my brief research tells me so. Perhaps especially men who get raped by other men starting to think they're actually into men as in thinking maybe they wanted it on some level: self blame gets intertwined with confusion about sexual orientation. That makes a lot of sense. And when I thought of that... cause I was sexually abused at such a young age and by the opposite sex (yes there was a girl in on it too, but she was not the one holding me down and looking at my bits up close, he did most of it, she was just laughing around in the background, and I've now gotten over most of my internalised lesbophobia), and then raped by the opposite sex (also by Anna but that was different and affected me differently, that gave me trust issues and fear towards myself, not to other women)... it's possible I was always a lesbian but I thought I was bisexual cause of those traumas.

The same way that some straight people think they might be gay from having been abused by the same sex... maybe I thought I was bisexual cause I've been abused by the opposite sex. But that maybe it had a more... ingrained (?) or long-lasting, effect on me because heterosexuality is the norm, and I didn't ever think of questioning my feelings for men/guys cause I was expected to be into the opposite sex, as is everyone. I feel like this might actually be what happened. The weight in my heart tells me that's how it is, but can I trust it? It feels like a heavy thing to realise, and quite dizzying.

Also considering how very much my traumas have fucked up my sexuality on other levels, with the getting attracted to close relatives, attracted to kids, all the obsessive rape fantasies, sex addiction, and so fucking on... it actually wouldn't surprise me a lot if I was also always a lesbian but got that messed up with my rapey and obsessive, basically intrusive fantasies about men that made me think I was into them and that I wanted sex and romance with them.

I've always, always struggled to figure out my sexuality, ever since I learned that there are different labels for if you're attracted to men or women, both or neither. I've switched from thinking I'm bi to lesbian, to bi, to pansexual, to gay male, to asexual, to bi again, back to gay male, then to straight female, back to bisexual female and here I'm for the first time ever truly looking at the label lesbian. Literally the only one that never felt like it fit me is straight male, but for the same reason as lesbian. I've dithered between sexual orientations for 14 fucking years, I've had enough, and I demand an answer!!! I don't care which fucking one anymore... I don't care... just please I need to know so that I can put this shit behind me for once in my life...

That's why this is so important to me, cause as soon as I felt this shift, all I could think was "Noooooo not again!!!" cause I don't know how many times I've come out but eventually I just stopped coming out cause it had gotten ridiculous and no one cared anymore who or what I was into. I know, I fucking know, that it's because of my traumas that I simply can't for the life of me figure out my sexual orientation. I just want it sorted out, once and for all. The answer doesn't matter, as long as I get the right answer.

My sexuality is absolutely shredded by my traumas, and I can't make sense of the pieces, bits, slices and strings that's left of it. I can't put the mess together cause I don't know what it's supposed to be like. All I can say about it is just "I think it's broken" and sigh.

So it wouldn't surprise me, it wouldn't... cause I think it's true. But I feel sad about it. That would explain also why my long term relationships with men never worked out. Really the only love or crush that I'm actually unsure about is R... maybe I really did love him? I don't know. I'll get to that very soon, so let's hold that thought.

(Back to the story telling)
14. First romantic experiences
Then I met J a couple months after the rape, on the same online chat site. He was quite a bit older than me. I had just turned 18 and he turned 27 a few days after that. I felt I had a few really cosy romantic moments with him and did feel some butterflies, but I wasn't really into him as a person. He was boring, and we didn't really have anything in common. Except he was a smoker and I finally got my chance to try my first cigarette, which I had longed for for years prior but never gotten the chance. I had sex with him once, at his place, but it was physically painful and incredibly disappointing. I had shaved my pussy for him, but he was very distant, gave me no foreplay what so ever and it was just... literally just in and out until he came in me. It was the worst consensual sex I've ever had, only because he was so distant and unaffectionate with me.

We had been dating for about 2 weeks at that point, and he broke up with me the next day when he was walking me to the bus station. I took a detour back into the city to buy emergency birth control pills before I went back home again. About a week later he came back crawling to me saying he wanted me back, but I felt absolutely nothing for him and thought he was an idiot, so I said no and moved on. Never heard from him again, until I met him at a psychiatric ward where he worked as a staff member, early in my FtM transition 4 years later. He recognised me when I said hi, and he looked absolutely livid, seeing me there. I don't think I've ever seen anyone get so pale so fast... He switched wards the next day, to very obviously avoid me. Then I never saw or heard from him again. Was I ever into him? No, I don't think so. But I also didn't know him long enough to truly know if I could have been into him. I really liked his kisses though. He was an incredible kisser, with an unnaturally long tongue. That tickled my fancy!

15. First love?
Then I met R. Was I in love with him then? Well, because he was very overly obsessed with me, if I was obsessed with him too, it would have looked like a healthy love in comparison. That was the only time I had an even worse obsession to compare my love-like feelings to. I don't know, but I think that's an important thing to bring up. I remember I wanted breaks from him all the time after just a few weeks, and that I didn't ever miss him after it had been a few days. Like I never really wanted to hang out with him, but when I did I usually liked it, before it got abusive between us. When I was with him, I liked him and felt like I was into him... but when I was alone between meetups I didn't feel like I was into him much at all. It's hard to figure out what to really make of that. But I think maybe it was something else going on than love there. I mean, I really did care about him a lot, but I also felt a certain distance, like I wasn't fully there with my feelings for him. I think maybe I told myself I was more into him than I really was. And him hurting me made me feel like it was a heartbreak when I broke up with him but really I was just hurt by all the damn abuse. I... don't think I actually loved him, or was into him even... and realising that... not even him... it's heavy.

Sex with him was absolutely amazing... when he didn't sexually assault me, but I was still always distant from him during sex, and I wasn't into his body at all. He just had amazing techniques at pleasing me and I did dream away into my fantasy world a lot. Romance was great with him... but it also felt phony and awkward, like I wasn't quite "there" with that either. Everything was so very intensely black and white and confusing and conflicting with him. I think maybe possibly I just wanted for it to work out with him, more so than I loved him or wanted him. I was not attracted to his looks at all and the more I got to know him the less I liked him and the less I was into him. Also, this is a VERY important factor to take into consideration as well: he was the first person ever to love me romantically. Of course I "fell" for him then... I just wanted to be loved. I remember that thought... I've thought it before, that it's possible I was only into him because he loved me, and well suddenly that makes a lot of sense.

The rest is sum up, conclusion and last few reflecting thoughts:

Well, this is starting to look like a pattern, don't you think? Cause I see a consistent pattern of a "nope not into, not attracted to, not really in love with, just obsessive, etc" about the guys. While girls are much more varied and depending on the intensity of what I felt, does seem to have been genuine and also a hell of a lot healthier. I always used to think I "lost" attraction to girls I was crushing on cause of a fading attraction to women altogether... but it wasn't. It was really just me knowing when to stop pining for women I had to chance with, cause I was not actually obsessed with them. I actually genuinely liked them and saw them as potentials: not must have's.

Oh wow, fuck. I think I might have solved the puzzle... or damn nearly at least! And... just damn... I don't even know what to say to myself? I'm at a loss for words. I really wasn't into ANY of the guys I thought I was?! And it's been soooo many guys... if I also count all of the crushes... they're uncountable... and ALL just illusions and tricks!? And all the ones I pined for, dated, fucked... Oh fuck, that makes me feel so sick... what have I done to myself!? I've traumatised myself even further by fucking people of a sex I'm not actually into! And several hundred times... far beyond what I can count... with 19 different men!

It's hella dizzying... No wonder my subconscious eventually just snapped at me and made me instantly grossed out by men and dick. I know not all lesbians are grossed out like that strong reaction, but I think in my case that reaction kiiiinda makes sense. And many traumatised/sexually abused lesbians are really grossed out by men/dick, that's totally a thing. This is shaking me up quite a lot. At the same time as my mind is struggling to truly comprehend that I'm actually gay... Like it's just staring at the almost entirely solved puzzle and just goes "wut?" so I guess I'm a little shocked! I see it that way, like I've almost solved this puzzle now and although there are a few more pieces to add... I can see the picture. I only feel slight hesitation still because of the few missing pieces. But I don't think the final result will be any different to what I already see... I think it will be the same, only clearer.

I am freaked out, and scared... cause I believed all my life this was the one sexuality I could not possibly have... and I'm scared of having to start over with sex and dating, as a beginner again. Although I look forward to it really a lot, and dream about it... it would definitely be a dream to find the right woman and marrying her, all of that! But even just finding a first girlfriend and gently exploring her and she exploring me and be cutesy romantic and bicker about some pet peeves and just... ah it fills me with such warm feelings and giggly excitement! But it makes me nervous and kinda scared too... cause I can't choose to be with men anymore, like I can't lean back on that if it gets difficult with women... oh dear, it feels like I'm gonna have to dive without any safety gear on...

Come to think of it, I've never been able to cum with a guy unless I've distracted myself away from him, with a fantasy or just by closing my eyes and focusing on the feeling itself. That's... dissociating. It was just that feeling of being filled up that I liked about dicks... and thinking they look kinda cool. I don't regret that I tried sex with men, although I wish I had maybe tried it a bit less and not so unhealthily. But I very likely would have enjoyed penetration a lot more with women and dildos/strap-on's instead. I'm sure I would love being on the giving end of that too... I did cum from fantasising about that, once, a week or so ago, and I'm taking that as a sign I might be into it in reality too.

Although I seem to mostly be into being on the receptive end of dildos and straps... I'm versatile about fingering, pussy licking and basically everything else. That about dildos maaay just be me being slightly stuck in heteronormative thinking patterns, but I'm sure I'll come around about it if that's what up with that. I feel I'll be a lot less restricted with women and just wanna try and explore everything! Like it's just all so exciting and sexy! And then if I try something I'm not into it, so what, at least I wanted to try it and did! That, only time will tell. I wonder if cumming with another woman will mean... I might actually get off from focusing on her? I can't know, of course but... I can only imagine that would be an absolutely amazing feeling that would make me cry happy tears for weeks. There's a lot such details that I don't know and can't know with the lack of experience I currently have with women, which does make this a little trickier to really figure out, but I try to use what little information I've got about myself on that, and just work with it.

I suddenly feel really grossed out by all my past experiences with men, like I'm tainted. I know I didn't mean to hurt myself by fucking them, and I know I really thought I was into them... but yikes, just yikes... How do I wash the memories of all those 19 dicks off of me? It makes me shudder at just the thought of it. The thought of dick, and men, touching and feeling me, makes me shudder. I suddenly feel traumatised by all of it, even the good ones. This feels like really the cherry on top of the cake that is all of my traumas, another cruel fate to discover... how is it possible to have this much bad luck in life?

The more I peel this onion that is my traumatised mind... it's absolutely shocking how much there is beyond each layer... I can't fathom it. I just can't. I'm just staring at the mess and what's revealing from underneath it with my mouth open, mind blank and the only thing that comes out of my mouth is the sound "öööööhhh" which is Swedish for "eeeeehhh" of all the things you probably didn't know were actually translatable. But back on topic. It does sadden me... I never got to explore my lesbianism, cause I was too fucking busy repeating my traumas with and obsessing over men/guys that I wasn't actually into. Not only do I have to start over as a woman at 30... I also have to start over as a lesbian at 30... Fuck my life?

Some do realise it later in life, and maybe I should look more into that. If maybe I could feel comforted by hearing others' stories of not having realised being gay until you're definitely an adult and "should have" figured it out long before. Lesbians who've even been married to men and didn't know they weren't into them, for example. I know I blame myself for it, like "how could I not have known?" but I also know I'm not the only one to have had that kind of struggle.

I struggle to move on and tell more of my later crushes, relationships and sexual experiences. It makes me feel sick. And also because I know that the closer I get to present time in my sexual timeline... the more sickening it gets. Perhaps I'll take up on it later on from where I left off this time.

I don't think I've ever been into men. That's what my thoughts and feelings and analysis so far are telling me, and it's kinda heavy. I think I really am a lesbian, and always was, but I struggle with it cause it feels like my whole dating and sex life was built on a lie, already from the start. Cause... that too. My life as a trans guy was a lie, and now my interest in men was too. Knowing that creates a knot in my heart. It's painful. How many lies have I lived through, thinking they were true? How many more? Do I even want to know? Just how tragic can my life be? I want a hug so bad right now. Just a friendly hug, but I wouldn't mind it if it's tight and lasts for a long time. For someone to just squeeze away some of my tensions, fears, worries and panicky feels for a little moment...

I'm gonna need to work through this with fucking heaps of therapy and self-care. This also feels like a betrayal towards myself. I might come out as a lesbian after Christmas if that might help me feel better and accept myself more, but I want to bring this up with my therapist first as well, and I see her next time on January 10th. So gotta hold on until then. She's been warned that that's what I wanna talk about. Don't know if I'll tell my parents anything about it on Christmas when I'm visiting them. If the topic just comes up, I might, but not otherwise. I really don't think they'd have any issues with it. Maybe my mother would be happy/relieved to hear it means I'm suddenly highly unlikely to get pregnant. Really the only way I possibly could would be if I'd be raped by a guy again, or if I'd plan on getting pregnant and look into ways to get inseminated or something. Homosexuality is a great and super effective birth control method! I highly approve of it ;)

Cause of having been so obsessed with men for so very long... I've lost out on women really a lot. And all the denial I fought for so many years... it REALLY was internalised lesbophobia, huh? I went in the entirely wrong direction, just completely... and it feels like a loss. A loss for words, if not else! Jeez, what does one even say to this?! It's probably gonna shock a few friends by the time I come out... Cause I can't think anyone will have expected this... although I did already change my facebook profile where it says what/which gender/-s I'm interested in from both men and women to only women. I don't think most of anyone took notice of that though.

But I do want to write a long and heartfelt post about it when I do decide to come out, when the time is right for that. Might be sooner than I first thought, although I don't think I should rush this. I might come out sooner on places like tumblr or Qruiser though, where I only have one or two friends and not literally everyone I know. Baby steps. I really do look forward to that though, actually. The more I just sit with this feeling and realisation and think and feel about it, the more I'm embracing it. Although it's also scary. Cause, I think this time I actually got it right, and then I think coming out will feel like relief. It never has before. Except from my detransing coming out, but never with sexuality... I think that says a lot, if I'll also feel relieved coming out as a lesbian!

So, let's end on that positive note. I can't, however, promise that this won't keep being upsetting for a while. It's both upsetting and relieving. It's great to be a lesbian, I'm sure, but again... why at this fucking price? Okay that didn't end happily, but just re-read the previous paragraph or something! I've gotta end this painfully long entry now before I fall asleep or something.

Passing genders

How long was I wrong about my gender? From an analytical perspective. I've thought of it a bit. Cause it's a bit hard to tell. Let's try to map it out how I've identified my gender from now and back to early childhood, and see if I can get the ages somewhat accurate:

- Age 29 (and presumably onwards): Except from my short moments of wondering if I may be nonbinary, I've this age, since summer, thought of myself as a binary woman.

- Ages 19 to 29: Except from a couple of months at age 27 (when I saw myself as bigender: male and "something else") I saw myself as a binary man during this time period.

- Ages 15 to 19: This was an exceptionally confusing time and I used to refer to it as my "trans denial" period. In hindsight I guess it was my "cis denial" period... I had "discovered" I'm "actually a trans guy" at age 15 and then tried to live as a girl but it didn't pan out well, which led to me reaching the conclusion I was really a guy, at age 19. However at moments during this time I really did enjoy being a girl and having a feminine body. I liked my body, but I felt wrong in it. I did want to be a girl, but I felt like I just couldn't be one and like I couldn't connect to it. Like I had failed at it or couldn't handle it, and that it would "free" me to be a guy instead.

- Ages 13 to 15: Was probably the only time of my life I thought of myself as somewhat/kind of a girl, but I hated it and the trans thoughts kept popping up from time to time.

- Ages 10 to 13: I saw myself as gender neutral or a "third gender" and wished I could stay pre-pubescent into adulthood. I hated the way my body was developing and feminising. I started getting clear signs of body dysphoria/dysmorphia at around age 10 cause of puberty, but had no real signs of that at any younger age.

- Ages 6 to 10: I had a few random wishes of "wanting to be a boy" but I think mostly it was just because I thought boys had more social advantages and I didn't want to have to deal with all the casual misogyny that I was exposed to.

- Ages up to 6: I already then had wishes of being a boy, but they weren't yet as intense, and mostly I just felt completely detached from gender and thought of myself as simply a person with a human body. I felt estranged from both boys and girls, I felt like an alien among everyone. I dissociated from my body being human but wasn't dysphoric about it being female, specifically.

So, to lump that up into slightly narrower categories and just list what gender I saw myself as:
Age 29 (and presumably onwards): Woman (cis).
Ages 19 to 29: Man (trans).
Ages 15 to 19: A trans guy who didn't want to become a woman, and/or as a failed girl.
Ages 13 to 15: "Probably a girl" but also I wanted to transition.
Ages up to 13: "Gender neutral" with random wishes of being a boy.

So, well... I think that clarifies that I've never known my actual gender before now, in detransition, current age. But it was always right there, in my knickers, how did I miss it?! Well, maybe sometimes things are just too close up for you to be able to see them. Maybe my vagina was "too obvious" or "too simple" of a sign that I MAY just be a girl/woman... cause I've always been the kinda person who complicates everything.

But I struggled so much with myself. What I thought of my body, the traumas that made me hate it. That even when I had figured out what being a trans guy meant and it seemed to fit dead on, I still doubted and didn't want for it to be true. It felt like it would be the worst thing ever if it turned out I was trans! Well in a way it WAS the worst thing that ever happened to me... oh boy, if only I knew the total gravity of that at the time! But that's how it felt at age 15 after I had found out that trans men exist, on Qruiser. That same lgbt dating site, I've been on ever since. And it was the first online site I ever created an account on. I still use the same account with with the same cringey teen username. It was my first source of knowing that trans men, not just trans women, exist. Which hit that last nail in the coffin. Back in January 2005. Was a while ago. But yeah, that means I've more or less thought of myself as a trans guy/man since age 15, which was 14 years ago. During my 4 years in denial, I sometimes forgot about the whole trans thing, but it always came back again and again. I didn't truly deal with it: I only tried to brush it under the rug.

Transsexualism felt like the one shoe I didn't want for to fit, but it did. I tried at first, at age 15, to see if trans life could work out for me, but I was way too scared to even bind my chest in public, let alone come out. I became kind of a cross-dresser in secret, and it felt dirty. When no one could see me in my teen room I bound my chest with elastic bandages, stuffed a sock into my pants and wore tight white jeans and a white tank top. Androgynous rocker guy, that's how I liked to imagine myself back then. Well, my idols were the Swedish "poodle rock" heavy metal band Europe, then metal dudes like Judas Priest, Alice Cooper, Iron Maiden, David Bowie and all except from Brolle those guys had long curly hair, wore makeup and tight spandex tights that showed off a big bulge. I was heavily inspired by 1980's heavy metal style, with the big hair, lots of makeup and yeah... spandex that showed everything.

But transsexualism was the horrible curse I could not accept as part of me at the "prime" of my already disastrous teens. I just realise that what I deeply wanted and wished for back then... was actually what could be considered a form of conversion therapy. I wanted therapy that could teach me ways to learn how to be fine with my body the way it naturally was. I didn't want to transition! I wanted to become fine with my body the way it was! So THAT's where my passive aggression towards the trans agen-- I mean community (sorry *cough* got something in my throat there) is all about. Cause fucking "conversion therapy" for transgenders likely would have saved me. Saved me from transitioning and the devastating consequences of it that I now have to live with. I even wanted it, I begged to the gods for it! But it's considered "inhumane" and not actually available to get as legit treatment for gender dysphoria. If I had started something like that around age 15-16, or even possibly up to around age 20, I think it would have worked. And of course adressing my traumas at the same time as well. Well this explains so much why I feel so angry at the trans... narrative? Oh god what do I even call it...

But back to reality of how it was back then. I tried to stuff it away and I really did try to just "be" me, dress the way I wanted to as a girl and try my best to just ignore what all of that "being a girl" meant, for myself and others. But then my rapist, and R changed all of that. So after them, I stopped trying to be a girl and I wanted to escape ever becoming a woman. It makes me sad to think about now. All the sadness and pain that I brought upon myself.

But to answer my own question, I have never before thought of myself or wanted to be a woman. I have to some degree thought of myself as a girl in my mid-late teens but it didn't feel right or good for me ever. So no, I have never actually seen myself as a girl or woman ever, before now.

It didn't feel like I had any choice in the matter at all. It all happened so suddenly that day in mid summer this year. I went from thinking I was a man to knowing I'm a woman as quickly as you can snap your fingers. It shocked me, and damn it if I'm not still in shock. It's like a mortal enemy of mine all of a sudden, out of the blue, dropped her battle axe and embraced me in a gentle hug. And I was so shocked by it I didn't know whether to fight or flee. And I did both, I think, but my enemy never stopped embracing me and eventually it became soothing, warming and comforting, so I began to respond to her embrace. I became a little gay for myself, in perhaps more than one, mostly metaphorical way. And we've held each other ever since, both very loving and caring, me and my female gender, but we're both very overly emotional, fragile and like we're both afraid to ever let go. May nothing ever tear us apart again.

I was at odds with my gender already from as far back as I can remember, from early childhood, and it took me this long to come to peace with it. That's why I call it "internalised misogyny" cause even though it's a term coined by radical feminism and not well-liked by the trans... whatever, the term explains my personal experience with my own gender feelings all the way from childhood. A self-hatred specifically targetting everything gendered about myself, because I am female.

I don't think there is a term known as "internalised misandry" as an equivalence for males, because I know feminism enough to highly doubt that... but I'm sure the males can have the same kind of self-hate experience that's because of them being male. So for all intents and purposes, I'm sure that there is a male equivalence that could be called internalised misandry.

Because I don't believe that just because I hated being a girl/woman for my entire life until the last fraction of it, that somehow must have meant I wasn't a girl/woman. It is really just a fraction of my life so far that I've been completely fine with being a woman, cause really, how much is 5 months out of 29 years and 8 months? I'm guessing not a lot, percentually.

Quick maths, 29 years is a total of 348 months. Add 8 to that so it gets more exact: 356 months. Now take 5 divided by that, as in: 5/356 = 0,0140449438202247. Let's round that off a little bit though, looks kinda clunky. (Yes, I calculate percentages in an unnecessarily complicated way.) That's for how many percent of my life I've been comfortable with being the gender that I am: the last 0,014% of my life. I'm not a math nerd, but I think this little calculation puts things into perspective, of why I'm so incredibly shocked and dumbfunded by this huge revelation that I've been a cis woman all along.

Quick sidenote: I finally think I managed to calculate how many percent of the entire population of people detrans, if 0,3% transition in the first place and 2% of them detrans. My result is that out of everyone, cis and trans combined: 0,0006% detransition. That's equal to one in 60 thousand people, I think. That number... is basically statistically inexistent.

Back on topic. I feel like I'm such a cluts at being a woman because I didn't get to learn about or practice it during the entire decade of my 20's. Most women who are 29 know that stuff better cause they've lived as women/girls for 29 years. I didn't. I started living as a woman 5 months ago. So it's not so fucking strange I'm an awkward, stumbling cluts... with trying to be a woman. Of course I come off as some iffy drag queen. If you consider the circumstances, it's not strange at all. So no, I don't, and I never did, fail at being a woman. I'm just a newbie at it.

It doesn't really come natural to me, I don't think any kind of gender or expression of such ever has for me. That's part of why it's been so hard to figure out. Cause gender simply doesn't come natural to me, and clothes don't either. It's actually known that asperger's messes with one's gender-feels, especially among females who have it, and now I think I understand why. But always running around naked and never being gendered at all in any way, doesn't really fit well with society. Especially not the being naked part. People would start complaining pretty quickly, and I'd freeze my ass off. But being a woman feels good to me, and a whole range of strongly positive emotions, everything from feeling empowered to feeling soothed, and that's what I'm mostly basing it on.

I'm so glad I finally found that love and connection to myself, but I'm sad it had to take a gender reassignment that ultimately was the opposite to what I truly needed, to find that loving connection.

Tell me again, is it better to have loved and lost than to never have loved at all?

Cause I began to love myself after I had lost myself in ways I can never regain, and that's what's causing this intense grief. So would it have been better if I had never found that self-love and instead lived a half-assed self-hating life as a trans man, never even knowing myself as a woman? No, I don't think the latter would have been better, but it's clear to me that the former is merely the lesser of two evils, and the whole fucklot of reality just pains me.

It feels cruel, but I am still glad I eventually did find that self-love. And it makes sense that the price of it was so insanely high... cause isn't it the most valuable thing you could ever get? It reminds me... although it's really fucking difficult to bring these words out of me... through hardships immeasurable and inexpressible pain... it was worth it. (Now I really want to cry.)

My dreams, a two-way communication

I screwed up my sleep pattern by daytime-napping cause I was too upset to stay awake. I don't care. But I had a dream, that I think it reflected really a lot about me.

I was with my old school class from 2014-2016. We had been split into two groups. The leader of the group, a guy who in real life is calm, kinda dreamy and very compassionate, Bosse, was with the half of the group that I went with. He drove us to a beachy area but there was no water in sight, as in lake or ocean. It was just a beach and some forest around, but we were promised we'd go swimming at some point. We were some 5-6 people in total, in that group, and it was all very chill and calm. We spread out towels on the sand to relax on and talked calmly to each other, mostly about our packing as it was our first day there. I think we were meant to spend 2 or 3 days there.

I got bored very quickly and when the sun started to go down, I needed to pee. I knew that we were actually in the upper floor of a two store house, someone's home. And I knew that on the first floor was the second half of our school class, their group led by the much more enthusiastic, energetic, "go getter", quick-thinker yet also very compassionate teacher Åsa. The only bathroom was downstairs, so I thought nothing of it as I went down to take a leak.

But then I noticed something that got me both andry and jealous. They had a party down there! With lots of other people invited. I was intrigued and thought "if only I had known I would have gone with this group instead" and decided to wander around a bit there, kinda pretending to just be one of all the guests, but also thinking it's probably no issue that I'm lurking around there since we're the same school class and I couldn't imagine it was somehow meant to be a secret. Especially considering both groups shared the same bathroom.

Then I ran into Åsa who found me lurking around. She noticed I was in distress when our eyes met, so she took me aside. She wondered what was wrong, looking clueless and caring. I told her I may be a very calm person and all but I would have preferred being in the party group instead of the beach group. I told her I wasn't told the groups would be different and that I was angry the teachers had just assumed which group would be right for me.

Then I started to wake up and the dream got increasingly less coherent but still having that conversation with Åsa. So I think it officially ended there, that dream.

That dream reflects so much of many of my real life situations. How people so easily misunderstand me and assume stuff about how I appear to be as a person, and not even asking. Not just in terms of parties, but what this dream was built on, the concept of it, was eerily realistic. Especially Åsa's reaction, and Bosse just being super chill about it all like "of course I was in the right group!" And I meantion their real names cause I don't think it matters but I mentioned their actual personalities because that was a very important aspect of the dream. The caring but aloof Bosse of course wanting to protect me by putting me in the calm group that of course he's leading. And the energetic, quick-thinker Åsa of course going with the party group and just "didn't think about" even asking me cause the assumption happened so easily and went by everyone. They both made the same assumption, but for different reasons and from different sides of the calm vs party coin. It was well-meant but if someone had just thought to ask me... That has followed me so much in my life. Exactly that kind of scenario, just dressed up differently.

My gender situation was strange in that dream. Judging by how I thought of myself, my choice of clothes and the things I brought with me for that trip, I was clearly living as a woman... but I think for everyone else there I was still a male-presenting man, cause that's how I was when I went to that school in real life. That's interesting to me cause I think it was my mind showing me as a woman to myself cause that's what I'm comfortable with now, but it had to show me as a man to everyone else in the dream for it all to make sense. It wasn't adressed much, only when I tried to discuss swimwear with another classmate and I clearly spoke of women's swimwear which made the classmate.... glitch? It was as if she didn't register or understand it when I said "swim suit" (in Swedish that's the word "baddräkt" for women's one-piece swimwear) as if that was something I wasn't supposed to say cause it made the program glitch! Like that classmate expected me to say "swim shorts" instead and couldn't comprehend the feminine alternative. Also a few people in the dream referred to me as "John" but only once or twice, I think. The name Laura, or my birthname, did not come up at all.

So that was a new, rather strange thing that my dream mind did there, but I really appreciate the kind compromise to spare me of too much dysphoria. Sometimes I wonder if my subconscious mind is another entity of its own. Cause it almost kind of acts as if it's another consciousness, with how it communicates with me. But I think in actuality the subconscious isn't meant to be quite so directly interactive with one's conscious mind, but since I've found pretty much a "communication system" to keep in direct contact with my subconscious, I notice it acting in pretty fascinating, unusual ways that I don't recognise within my conscious and that's what makes me feel like my subcon is like another person altogether.

It's a bit like communicating with a highly intelligent, but bewildered person who doesn't speak and has an animalistic body language, but you notice they're actually incredibly smart once you've found ways to communicate with them. And they start showing you all the amazing things that's going on in their mind, and they want to get to know you too. They show you compassion and even love. Everything they do and how they do it is very strange and foreign to you, but you know that and don't judge them, and you're always patient and caring with them. That builds a very strong, special bond.

Also, daytime-napping is always when my subcon gets extra talkative with me. That's when I get extra intense dreams with deeper meaning. But this thing with my subcon compromising with my real life wishes... is totally new. I earlier, few weeks ago, also realised that my subcon has showed me having my ideal body in my nightly dreams almost every single time, since detransitioning. That is also, I think, something very special. It's just a theory, but I think what this could be, is my own mind rewarding me for my hard work with healing from my traumas and finding self-love, forgiving myself, etc. But it is definitely a sign of deeper communication with my subcon, beyond it just sending me dreams and whatever things that I specifically NEED... cause now it's additionally sending me things that I WANT, simply out of care and compassion. Isn't that amazing, and beautiful?

And yes, I'm really happy about that my mind literally lets me live out my dream body in my nightly dreams. The two different meanings of the word "dream" are mixing together a little bit. I can have dreams (as in things I deeply wish for) in my (nightly) dreams! It also lets me get a clearer image of what I even think of is my "dream body" and it's actually highly realistic. It is the way I actually look, but with big reconstructed boobs, a smooth hairless body and no facial hair, and the way my body shape looked before I took testosterone meaning just slightly narrower waist and slightly wider hips. That's a totally realistic goal to have. It lets me get a feel for what living with my body shaped and looking that way could be like. Although it's not the same as "trying it out for real" I think it's still good. But the very, very best part about that is of course not having any dysphoria in my dreams.

That right there tells me that my subcon REALLY cares about me and my mental well-being. It wants to cut me a break from my horrible feelings in the awake world, of dysphoria, grief, regret, and all that pain and suffering that comes with it. Likely because I finally dared to face all those true feelings that I always carried within myself but used to bottle so hard and far away that I hid them from myself and denied their existence. My subcon wants to make me feel good and to be relieved of that pain I otherwise constantly have to carry around and be weighed down by. I think my part of the deal is to not turn to sleeping or staying in bed all the time. My dysphoria-free dreams are my reward, not something I'm meant to replace actual life with. Then I think I'd lose that reward, if I tried that.

That's really quite remarkable if you think about it, isn't it? My subcon offered me a gift with one condition and I took the deal. And we both keep our end of the deal. Well, it fascinates me, that's for sure! For it being my subcon, I sure am very conscious of it. I used to think we didn't speak the same language, but we do. We just speak it in different ways. So yes, it is possible to find ways to communicate and understand each other. I think it has been the goal of my subcon all along, for me to understand the messages it sends me. And now, after many years of having tried to interpret and understand it, I still don't fully 100% understand it, but I know which ways it works and I do have a basic understanding of how it communicates. And now I've gotten so far with it that we're even making deals with each other! That's like... wow, just wow.

My nightly dreams have changed in one more way, by the way, since my detransing. When things "go wrong" in my dreams, such as people fighting me or I get lost or am chased or whatever, I don't fight it. It's not lucid dreaming, it's me trusting my own mind. It's me letting it play out the scenarios as it intends for them to be, without fighting or trying to change them cause I get scared. Even in the dreams where I think it's real, some inkling withing me stops me and goes kinda "hang on, I need to trust this won't harm me". And I'm pretty sure that too has strengthened the bond and communication between my subcon and my consciousness. Cause I'm not fighting its messages.

Can my subcon integrate with my conscious mind? Well, I think that's what's gradually happening, so yes I think it's possible... but can it be integrated fully? As in, I'm conscious of all aspects of my mind, and I in a sense don't have subconscious anymore because of having become fully aware and a part of it. That I kinda doubt, but we'll see, I guess! I wouldn't say it's my "goal" but I am working towards it. My goal is to understand myself better and have a good connection and comunication between my conscious mind, my subconscious mind and my physical body. But I don't have an "end goal" with it. As cheesy as it may sound, the journey, and the direction, is my goal.

Laughing at this cruel fucking joke

I dunno what just hit me but suddenly I just felt like a wave of sadness from out of nowhere and like the life force was sucked out of me. Like someone just blew out a candle light within me. I dunno why, or what caused that feeling. It's really not nice and I thought maybe if I write about it a bit I could figure it out. I dunno though.

I started a new drawing but stopped it after not even 10 minutes cause I couldn't focus on it at all and felt no motivation what so ever. I can't write on my story either. I just really, really wanna create something but I can't. It makes me feel so empty. Like I've lost some really important part of myself that I really need to feel better, and I've already lost too much. I know my creativity isn't gone forever though, but I still hate that it's temporarily gone. It causes a chafing restlessness within me that can't get out. And I don't need that feeling on top of everything else.

I feel so disconnected to everything that life is. Everything. Like I'm just barely even here, barely interacting with the world, and barely interacting with myself even. I don't know if that's dissociation or just depression. My sadness is really tearing at me. I don't think this like "clinical depression" but rather the kind of depressed you get when you go through something in life that is very hard to go through. Like if you'd lose your home or a job you really love, that might make you feel like utter shit and like you have depression but it's not the mental illness kind, but caused by external circumstances. I've had that a lot in my life, and here I have it again.

I guess... maybe I feel defeated by life. That I tried so hard to make life better for myself and it was going so well... but then detransition happened and it just completely killed my spirit and I feel like I've lost a lot of progress. I can't take care of myself or my home cause my feelings are just constantly choking me and making me incapable of doing anything that's even the slightest bit productive.

I took a shower late yesterday evening, around midnight. And it was so hard... I didn't know my chest grief/dysphoria had gotten so bad until I stepped into the shower thinking nothing of it. I couldn't touch my chest, couldn't look at it. I couldn't keep my arms far enough from it. It weighed so heavily on me. I could barely even wash myself. It hasn't been this bad since before my top surgery. And it saddens me so much that I used to feel exactly the same kind of bad about my chest with boobs before the op, as I do now almost 5 years after the op. Like I literally got back to square one. But now missing my boobs so badly I can't... I just can't... function.
I wrote in a comment in a facebook group about that: "Last time I felt this bad about my chest was before the op. Oh sigh." Cause what else can I do but just sigh at this misery?

The breast forms barely help at all now, but without them I get a literal panic attack and break down completely, so I need to wear them for whatever little comfort they can give me. I've started wearing them with a regular sports bra while just at home. It helps giving my chest and back a break from the much harder mastectomy bras, but the tiddies don't stay in place well in them. They overlap at the middle a lot which gives an annoying and unsightly "mono boob" look, even in mastectomy bras, but much more so in a regular sprts bra. I think it's because they're too wide across my chest. They're like a soft triangular/cone shape and that "bottom" width is too wide for my tiny chest, so they keep getting pushed towards the centre, and overlap. I should probably get myself properly fitted for actual breast prosthetics so I can get something of a size and shape that actually fits my chest, and not this pair which is probably made for huge drag queens... ugh. Well that's why they were cheap!

I jus don't know if I could get fitted for prosthetics because of both reasons that my mastectomy was my own stupid choice (and not cause of cancer, etc) and because I'm looking into getting a reconstruction as soon as possible. But I'd still likely end up being stuck with prosthetics as my only comfort for like a year from now. And I can't imagine a breast doctor or plastic surgeon or whoever would outright DENY me just getting fitted for a pair that I could then pay for myself. Cause I really doubt I could get that kind of cost covered, considering they usually cost between 100 and 400 euro, for a pair. I wouldn't go above 200 though, I think. But if I'm desperate and dysphoric enough, I might. Cause maybe that's one of the things that make me struggle more with the boobs now... cause they don't act like real boobs and that just annoys me and reminds me of my brokenness. Cause my false limbs don't sit right! Gah! I mean, that, if anything, really makes them feel false, you know...

I'm gonna need to buy one of those fluffy shower sponges so I can clean my chest without directly putting my hands on it, and possibly shower in the dark as well. This feels like a defeat and maybe that feeling from last night's shower is what's lingering and tearing at me. Cause usually showering makes me feel better cause it's soothing and all, but not that time. It was terribly dysphoria-inducing and made me feel utterly horrible.

Am I making any progress at all or am I falling apart? Cause it feels more like the latter now. I just wanna lie down and cry, but I can't. My head hurts, I'm hungry but I can't eat anything at all cause my sadness is killing off what little appetite I once had.

Also my favourite comic magazine and only one I like reading (Nemi) is gonna stop existing, or stop getting published sometime around spring or summer next year. That saddened me too. What else am I gonna read when I'm waiting for food stuff to get done in the kitchen? I don't know, I don't care. I don't feel anything.

Maybe this wave of sadness was just all those little things gathering up together into a lump that infested my mood and killed it.

Some days ago or I don't recall when, I read a few random texts by random people here and there that made me think as well. It was stuff like... trans people thinking detransition would be "too late" for them cause of how far they had gone in transition (but not actually wanting to detrans, just fearing it), some trans woman who decided to detrans only because she lost her boobs to cancer, and some ignorant person on youtube saying hurtful shit about how much of an idiot I was to transition. I dunno, maybe that got to me too. Or more than I first thought it did.

It both makes me think like... how can anyone let their physical situation stop them from living the way they see is their truth? And how can they not understand that for me staying true to myself matters so much more... even though it hurts like getting run over by a truck and being left to bleed to death. I had no other choice... it makes me so upset, that I had no other choice. Cause I couldn't continue living as a man knowing I'm a woman and loving being one... but I can't enjoy being a woman in this mess either. I was stuck with two utterly terrible choices. Like lose your body or lose your mind, what's better? Well I chose my mind.

I just feel more and more broken, more and more lost and disconnected from my body. I don't know why, cause I like it getting less hairy and slowly more feminised again, and I like that I got my periods back, I'm looking forward to getting more and more womanly-looking again and I am getting closer in that direction but at the same time I'm feeling worse. Perhaps I just zoom in on what hasn't changed yet. Or... perhaps it could be that since my mind has changed to a lot more feminine again on the returning estrogen, I react more distressed towards my male traits? Well I think it might make sense, in a way. I dunno though, consider it a loose theory.

But also, my mood swings have been incredibly insane today. Like literally laughing my ass off every other minute and then feeling super sad every other minute. It's a mess, and yeah I'll talk to my doc about that on Monday as I have an appointment with him then. I haven't had this bad mood swings since I started my meds for that, like 3 years ago. And it's pretty obviously my hormones causing this change, and not my borderline personality disorder. Actually, estrogen was never a good combination with that disorder and the testosterone helped with a lot of my symptoms of it... so well yeah let's see how crazy the return of my estrogen will make me again then!

I guess I just feel so beaten trying to live as a tit-less, hairy woman with a beard and deep voice that I'm just... I feel freaked out by my own looks and horrified by what the mirror shows me. I don't see a woman. I see mutilation and sadness. I feel disgusted and sad, and I just can't cope with it. I realise that I've literally never felt at peace with my body or like it reflects me gender-wise, and now it just fucking flipped in my detransing from one kind of gender-discomfort to another and I just... fuck, will I ever be able to find that peace? If so, how much and how long will it take? Will I ever be done transitioning in one way or another? I started at age 19 and I won't be done before 30... maybe 32 if I'm lucky. I just wasted my entire 20's being miserable about my body and altering it medically for no good reason. What a fucking waste. I'm so sick of all this gender-chaos, I need a fucking break. A vacation. Just something nice. Can I just borrow another female body that is whole, just for a little while, so I can get a little peaceful break to regain my strength? And play with the tiddies? Nah? Fucking thought so.

I wrote this comment reply to a post in an fb group where a trans guy was venting about still not being able to pass at some 1,5 year on testo, that the only change he's gotten so far is face- and body hair. I at first thought I was just being solidary but then kinda realised my situation is probably worse... but anyhow:

"I was reallly disappointed by my T changes as well, back in my transition when I thought of myself as a man and had what I thought was dysphoria. Except from that I did get a deep voice, I had the exact same issues as you. My body shape remained very curvy, my face shape didn't change. The only changes that could be noticed were voice and hair. I was stuck in an androgynous state, and didn't pass until almost 3 years on T.

Here's what made me pass: being able to grow a decent looking beard (learning how to trim and style it well helped, and yes your beard will continue to fill out, it takes some 3-4 years at least), dressing myself in very thought-out ways that gave the illusion my body had a much more masculine shape, changing my mannerisms and body language to appear more stereotypically male, and pretend I was confident. People automatically read me as male then, but it took a lot of work.

As you don't have the deep voice which I got, I'd suggest doing voice training additionally as well. If you can't get it deeper, just changing flow and tone can help really a lot (I got that advice from mtf's who struggle to get their voices to sound higher.) Yeah I was dysphoric while naked but at least I could pass while dressed. My hip-fat dysphoria that the T couldn't change the looks of even caused me an eating disorder, which I'm recovered from now, but it was hard back then. Sometimes hrt doesn't give us what we want and disappointment follows. It sucks, undoubtedly.

But the irony of it all for me, is that now in my detransition I struggle to pass as female instead. I get gendered male about 70% of the time irl, and I can't even figure out why. Probably cause I can't fully hide my facial hair, though. Cause I worked so hard and for so long to pass as male so I could feel better and live a decent life, but then I ended up realising I never even had dysphoria and am really a woman, but now I can't pass as female instead. It makes me feel like... I'm too sad to cry about it so I'm just gonna laugh at this cruel fucking joke instead. Sometimes we're just dealt really shitty cards in life, huh? Well, I feel that a lot. So I think you're allowed to complain."

And I dunno but that gave me a lot of heavy feels. I don't think I've until now in my detransing thought about just how much I struggled to pass as male, then finally managed after really a lot of hard work and dealing with my eating disorder and feeling like it was just all hopeless I could never look like I wanted to... passed well for some 4 years... and then this. It feels like a huge blow in my gut. That I tried so fucking hard to find peace and look good and just live a decent fucking life cause I thought I was a trans man... to only 4 years later realise I had been completely wrong all along and now I can't fucking pass as female.

It really does make me too sad to cry. Like it's just baffling how incredibly unfair it is. And it makes me feel like I just wanna give up. What's the point in trying to pass when it literally never works and what's the point in trying to look pretty when people keep treating me like I'm a monster? It's just getting harder and harder to make myself leave the house. I don't want to. I don't wanna be seen by anyone. Least of all myself but not by anyone else either. I just wanna stay inside for months or even years unless I'll start feeling better.

Maybe I wanna try a more neutral style for a while and see if that feels better. Wear a scarf over my head. Can't be bothered with wigs, they piss me off. I don't have the energy to try to fix them up and they are all in need of fixing. Fix fix fix fuck it! But I know I'd rather wear a paper bag over my head, that covers my face too. Just two small holes for eyes and one hole for my mouth so I can smoke. But wearing that would surely get me the wrong kind of attention too...

I don't know what I want to do with my looks. Cause I think it's really just my dysphoria itself that makes me feel like crap in public, even when I'm not getting misgendered. Like I just keep expecting it to happen and it keeps me constantly tense and on edge. And I don't want a more neutral style. Well on some days maybe, but not like always or in general. Mostly I'm just sick of having to spend so much time and energy on hiding my stupid beard before I can leave the house. It takes me at least 2 hours to just get ready the simplest way I can and I just feel like... to hell with it! I'm sick of it! Like if I have to keep doing that for every single time I wanna go outside.... man I dunno how much longer I can keep it up. Like how much longer I can force myself through that frustrating ritual until I'll just stop answering the phone and just refuse to leave the house altogether. Cause it's gonna hit a breaking point eventually. I just know that.

False dichotomy

Okay I just got back home from the lgbt cafe thing and maaaan am I tired! It was good though. We were only 5 people (me included) this time and I recognised 3 of them from before. The last 30 or so minutes of it (it's only for 2 hours, which I think is just long enough!) it was just me and the guy who hosts the event. We talked about cats for like 15 of those minutes. That was nice. He's really kind and sweet. Like he's the kind of guy I don't think anyone could ever feel threatened by.

But I'm not in the mood to write about that right now. I've held this in since just before I had to leave to go to the bus at 3:40 pm... At around 2 pm I wrote a comment to a post in a bisexual group on facebook... and apparently mods thought it was such a horrible comment that they muted me! I got so angry it's been brewing in me all day since then! Fuck! No, it wasn't a "horrible" comment but it was an "unpopular" opinion, and pretty fucking clearly unwanted. What pissed me off so bad was that EVEN THOUGH I had been super kind and polite about stating my opinion and tried real hard to not invalidate anyone with it... it was still deemed "not okay" for me to utter it.

It was met with pretty harsh criticism. Since I got back home again, that comment of mine has gotten 9 "angry" reacts, 1 "like" and 1 "love" react. It got some 5-6 angry comments and 2 kinda passive aggressive ones. I got muted before I could even get the chance to explain myself. It felt like I was being silenced for having "wrong think" like in that old, classic of a book called "1984" by George Orwell. I've read that book and it's a dystopian novel which the current culture climate is eerily similar to. Orwell described in his book that "wrong think" was thoughts and feelings that the government in that dystopic world had banned, and you get punished and silenced if you'd dare utter them. He was way ahead of his time, Orwell, as he write that book back in the 1950's. Or well, it basically just describes communism, I guess. Well what did I say in my comment then, you may wonder?

Well, this:
"I think it can be a matter of perspective. In my opinion there's only 2 genders, but I'm also supportive of nonbinary and I do understand intersex. Cause being both or neither male/female is not a third gender but simply a combination of the two or a lack of both."

Not THAT bad, right? Wrong. Apparently, cause it unleashed hell! Some of the replies I got to it was:
"See let me put it this way. Is bisexuality just a combination of hetero and homosexuality or is it its own identity? In the same way, nonbinary identities are their own even if they're comprised of aspects you may see in binary genders."

And:
"Your opinion is bad and wrong.
There are more than two genders. Period. This is a fundamental point you need to understand if you want to talk to, or about, trans people."

And also:
"You say you're supportive, but you're trying to change what nonbinary means. It's any gender outside of the societal man and woman dichotomy. Not all nonbinary are a mix of the two, or neither. They're are many, many genders that are not dependent on man and woman existing.
Please educate yourself further"

I'll add this one too:
"it’s easier to just say nothing when you’re not non-binary. Non-binary people understand our identities way better"

And why not this one:
"Imagine believing there's two genders and believing you still support nonbinary people lmao"

Also this little gem:
"Sounds like you're not even trying to hide your enbyphobia but okay"

Also this one cause it's the only actually at least half reasonable response:
"I understand your point, as a non-binary person. There are two binary identities, but the various combinations of both or lack of both binary genders are what makes the other gender identities. Essentially, you make sense, but it’s also a bit of nb erasure. That being said, third + genders have existed outside western culture for centuries."

I'm the one who should be crying bigotry here. They're literally trying to force their opinions onto me as if they were somehow facts, but everyone with half a brain knows that is not factual. It's a belief. It's a perspective. It's an opinion. Call it whatever the fuck you wanna call it, but I won't call what you call it cause I don't see it that way. Period. End of argument ...I wanted to say.

Yeah... I really wanted to respond to that crap but I can't. Cause fuck letting the dissendents speak, right? Let's just shut them up until they either learn to agree on every single point and have reached a mindless state of total equilibrium... or until they just disappear. I hate this part of the lgbt community. The vicious fucking snakes who think they can control people's minds by shoving their own crappy, unreasonable shit opinions down people's throats. Fittingly... apparently it's "national nonbinary day" today. Oh the irony. Well I think I'd rather eat my fucking socks than ever celebrate something so fucking pathetic.

Don't get me wrong, I don't care what other people consider their genders to me. People can identify as a fucking house plant if they want to, I don't give a fuck. But what I do have a huge problem with, is when I'm not even allowed to simply state my opinions of nonbinary in a kind and civil manner, in a group that's not even about gender identities!!! And also I've no fucking obligation to even accept nonbinary just because I'm bisexual. If I'd so only want to ever date binary cis men and women no bloody fucker can ever argue I'm a "bad bisexual" or "less bi" than some other fucker who has no standards what so ever but an ego in the size of fucking Jupiter. And that's not even as strict as I am! Cause I do date trans people as well as cis people, but can anyone blame me for being weary... and wary, of nonbinary people?

I may be old school but I'm not hateful. Since when did "allyship" get replaced with mind-control and worship? I refuse to be a "nonbinary ally" if that's the requirement. They've lost their fucking plot.

Well I sent a private message to one of the admins of the group, but so far no reply back. And I doubt I will get one later either. If I get banned from that group I wouldn't even care. Cause I don't wanna be part of a group that silences differing opinions just because they can. If that's the case I'd even leave on my own. Freely.

And no, I could never even dare to date a nonbinary person. Not unless they'd first fucking prove to me that they're not a hateful shitstain with a superiority complex like 99,9% of them seem to be. They're off my dating radar. And I don't even care if that's sexist or in any other way "too discriminatory" cause dating is actually the thing you're supposed to be allowed to be discriminatory about. Just like straight people exclude dating others of the same sex, or like weirdly picky people may exclude brunettes from their dating radar. Me excluding nonbinary people is really no different. It's within my right to do so, especially when it's for my own mental well-being.

Cause I can't be expected to be able to sift out the one or two actually decent nb people from the masses of snakes. So here's how it is: as soon as any potential partner says anything along the lines of "btw I'm nb" I'll just take off and run for the fucking hills. Decline any further dating. Lose out, whatever. Cause I'm just not willing to take that kind of risk. I've been with enough manipulative assholes. And yeah, people can call it "enbyphobia" however much they want, but I'm gonna go ahead and disagree and call it common fucking sense and self-preserverance.

Ugh, that just kinda ruined my day. But I could at least take my mind off it for a few seconds here and there at the cafe. I still haven't told anyone there about my detransing, but that's mostly just because we haven't talked about any gender or transition stuff at all there so far, so I think it would be weird to just bring up out of the blue. I can just sense that their thoughts really wander about my presentation and appearance there though. Like some really look me up and down with a kinda nervous but intrigued smile as if they're trying really hard to figure me out, but no one has actually said anything, or even hinted.

I wonder for how much longer they can keep biting their tongues about it. Cause I get the feeling that's exactly what they're doing. I wouldn't mind talking about it, in fact I'm bursting to have someone irl I can talk about it with, but I can't just say it outright. I need to wait for "the moment", which I know may never come. But that's just my cross to bear, I guess. At least I've learned to accept that.

I'm curious what they might think of me, but I don't wanna ask. I felt like I was passing better today though, and oh boy did I put in the effort to pass! With my beard hidden better than ever (although you could still see some in my sideburn areas and chin) and my hairline completely hidden under a feminine-looking scarf. Although I wasn't gendered by anyone at all so I can't actually know if I passed or not. It just felt like I did. So maybe take that with a grain of salt. Or two.

Also I talked to a friend, over phone, yesterday and that made me feel a bit better about my detransing situation. I think just hearing a new perspective that I hadn't heard before was apparently what I needed to feel better. Well anyhow he told me a lot of good, uplifting stuff about me going off testo. That it's very good my periods came back cause that means my body's natural estrogen has really kicked in again and it's working excellently. He also informed me that my extra testo will sit around in my body for about 6 months from the time I quit taking it. And that within 2-3 years I'll be pretty much my old self again. I told him about how annoying it is to shave with my skin being a lot softer but my beard hairs being very thick and coarse and he had empathy for me about that issue, but also said eventually my beard will get softer too. So that's good to know and it made me feel more hopeful.

Apparently he knows two other detrans women, also Swedes, except from me. He mentioned their names to me but I didn't recognise them much. I don't know if I know them or not, or if I have known them in the past but lost touch. Sometimes I forget names or can't place them. My mind is so disorganised. I also feel really good about being on the blockers again too, except they make me tired all the time, which is a little annoying daytime, but very nice to sleep on at night. I'm supposed to take them in the morning... but all I could think about that is "what idiot orders patients to take a sedating medication in the fucking morning?!" and decided to take it in the evening instead. Just like that. I can't think that would make any sort of detrimantal difference. But yeah, it makes me kinda "slightly drowsy" 24/7 anyhow, just that it almost completely knocks me out during the first 2 or so hours after taking it. Sooo, if I'd take it in the morning I'd be sleeping all days and be up at night, pretty much.

But actually I think me taking it consistently every evening at roughly the same time is what's helping me keep a sleep pattern now. Well, I have for almost 2 weeks or so now. Or I don't quite remember how long, since some number of days before I started taking the blockers again. So that's good, but increasingly more difficult to maintain. Another annoying side effect is that it does reduce my sex drive. Cause I noticed that happened when I was on them the first time around, then when I went off them I noticed my sex drive went up again, and now since starting them again, my sex drive is again lower. Not inexistent or gone, just less high or intense. Like I still get horny, just not as often or for as long. My mind wanders away from sexy thoughts much more easily. It's like they're boring me quicker. It bugs me a bit, that those pills lower my sex drive, but I don't panic about it cause I still have a sex drive and I'm single anyhow, so it doesn't actually impact my life much.

I guess I'm fine with sacrificing some of my sex drive to get my testo changes to reverse faster, cause that means I'm feeling better about my body faster and that's always a good thing. Cause ultimately, feeling comfortable in my own skin is more important and of higher priority than how often I wanna have sex. Especially since I'm feeling too bad about my body now to even enjoy having sex at all. But I mean masturbation is still very nice. Probably because I know exactly what my "lover" thinks of me then, and I have no reason to worry or not trust. I can trust my own hands on my body. That they won't do something I'm not prepared for or won't like, that they know exactly how to please me. And no risk of std's or pregnancy. It's the safest sex I could possibly have, both mentally and physically. So that's why it works so well for me, even now in this sorrowful state. It became a kind of self-care routine, although I don't doubt I'm still addicted to it additionally. And it always feels good to give myself a little of my own love, and I do love making myself feel good with sweet orgasms that lullaby me to sleep, comfort and relaxation.

People are still commenting on that comment I made in that facebook group, but can't intervene in. Someone just tagged an admin, coincidentally the same one I sent a message to earlier, so let's see what may come of that. And the person tagging the admin called me transphobic in their comment. Bwah! Not that I care much, but it did make me scoff a bit. Oh by the way it's up at 11 "angry" reacts now. It may just be my most hated comment online ever, so far. And it wasn't even hateful.

You know what I would like to throw into their faces? When they say "there are more than 2 genders cause there are genders outside of the man and woman dichotomy" I'd like to reply with something like "Well if male vs female is a false dichotomy, then I'm neither and both cis and trans cause that's also a false dichotomy and if you disagree with me you're invalidating my lived experiences." Cause I know they fucking HATE it when someone tries to break the "cis vs trans dichotomy" but they also refuse to believe in the "male vs female dichotomy" and they're obsessed with being validated all the time. Sooo.... I think that might be a pretty nice comeback.

Cause I actually do think I'm neither cis nor trans, technically, but it's an unpopular opinion in most trans spaces. But the more I think about it the more it makes sense. Cause cis people supposedly never question their gender, they don't have any kind of gender dysphoria and they don't transition - and trans people don't think of their gender as being the same as their bio sex, and they usually don't regret having transitioned or want to get their transitioned bodies changed back to look like their bio sex again.

The way I see it I simply don't fit into either of those two boxes. Yes, I hold onto the "cis woman" thing but only to highlight the importance of my gender being the same as my bio sex. What I mean by thinking I'm not technically cis is I'm different from cis women in a huge number of ways. For all the reasons I transitioned and then detransition:
- Cause I didn't always think of my gender as being the same as my bio sex. For most of my life I have not. It's only these past 5 months that I have actually felt connected to being bio female and a woman.
- And cause I've always had some form of dysphoria (related to my sexed body traits) or another. Even now, as I struggle with my male traits.

My conclusion is: there's more than just cis or trans. I'm in a third category, or a mix of the two. Either perspective would be correct.

It doesn't make me feel bad to think of myself as neither/both. But I do like ruffling people's feathers with bringing up that concept, that detrans people are neither cis nor trans, we're something else or both at the same time. Same concept as that nonbinary stuff, huh? But the difference is that I'm not forcing my idea of a non-cis-non-trans person existing onto anyone else. I'm simply presenting it as an idea and as a feeling, on few occasions. Because I can have opinions about things without forcing others to agree with me.

Well, I guess they really managed to ruffle my feathers though... And I also guess I still am angry at "nonbinary culture" for being such an authoritarian moodkill. At least I present my ideas as options, as neatly wrapped gifts that I just place on the table and then let people take them if they want to. And I don't yell bigotry (cry wolf, much?) as soon as someone declines my ideas. I don't actually mind or care about people disagreeing with me, that's never been my issue. What I do mind is not being allowed to explain or defend myself. That they think it's fine and fair to just let an entire group of angry pisshats spew shit on me for god knows how many more hours while I'm being kept silent, forcibly. It's the figurative gag in my mouth that I'm pissed off and complaining about, not the shit I'm getting thrown at me. Cause if I had been allowed to throw shit too, it would have been a pretty fun or at least very fair, shit-throwing fight.

Isn't it funny that those who claim to fight for justice the most, inflict the most injustice of them all? Well, that's politics in a fucking nutshell. And probably why I got bored with it again. I'm too wise and too mature for politics. Cause to me it all just looks like adult kids having a sandbox fight. And eventually I always just roll my eyes and move on. Humans are never gonna get along, or end wars, or gain any sort of justice or freedom, if they keep attacking and dog-piling others like that. They lost the fight that they threw me into, cause they fight dirty and they fight without honour. I may not have a black belt in karate (yet) but I know a thing or two about how to fight fairly, and what even counts as a fight. Cause if it's not a fair fight... it's abuse.

If or when I get un-muted in that group, or if it all blows over and I'm expected to "behave", I'll leave the group. No true warrior lets herself get abused by her opponents. If your opponent fights dirty, they've lost the fight the moment they fucked up and you no longer have any obligations or responsibility for fighting to win. The fight is over the moment they fucked up. So you leave and let the unwise clean up their own mess. I deserve better than such insolence. Let's wrap it up with that, to walk away with my head held high and my pride unscathed.