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.)
Showing posts with label detransition. Show all posts
Showing posts with label detransition. Show all posts
Wednesday, 12 December 2018
Monday, 10 December 2018
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.
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.
Saturday, 8 December 2018
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.
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.
Thursday, 6 December 2018
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.
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.
Monday, 3 December 2018
Breast reconstruction, analysis
So I've been looking more into breast reconstruction info and it has sparked a few more new thoughts and feels. It's interesting! So, first off, I've found more info about the "flap" method, meaning that when the surgeon takes tissue from another part of the body and makes boobs from that. Apparently you can be too thin for it! Well, I obviously can't say if I am too thin to be elegible for that method, but there might be a risk that I am. The most common donor site is stomach, and I'm just ALMOST certain I don't have enough flab there for two tits.
Another common donor site is butt/lovehandles. That I could more surely be elegible for cause I simply, factually, have more fat tissue there. However... apparently very few surgeons are skilled enough to use tissue from that particular donor site. Which means it's not likely gonna be an option for me in this tiny country I live in that only has like 3 surgeons per area of expertise. A third option for donor site is the back, or upper side of the back. Problem with that site however.... are that I'd still need to add implants as well, I have very little fat tissue on my back in general so might not work at all, and it might mess up my motor skills forever after. So I'd opt out of that one even if I'm elegible for it, cause not worth it.
However, let's just assume I'll be elegible for and can get both the flap method (stomach and, but not likely ass/hips) and the method of getting only implants... which one would I choose?
I think both methods have a lot of pros and cons and they pretty much weigh equally. It would depend on things that are only indivual for my specific body and my life. But let's have a closer look. Here are some of my questions/worries:
Implant method:
- Karate. Would it be safe to practice karate with implants? Would it be safe enough with saline instead of silicone, in case there is a considerable risk of rupture?
- Can my chest skin stretch enough, or evenly enough, considering amount of skin there and the stretch-ability of my top surgery scars?
- Would my nipples end up in a wonky place, as I wouldn't be able to relocate them again? Risk is they'd end up way too high up and possibly also too close together or too far apart.
Other things to consider:
- Quicker recovery, possibly fewer surgeries
- Would definitely keep my real nipples but they may end up in weird placement and not look good
- Boobs may look and feel not so natural
Flap method:
- What about my nipples? Could I keep my real ones or would I have to toss them for reconstructed ones? Cause I've heard nipples that have been relocated once CAN'T be relocated again, and a flap would cover that area, or my real nipples would end up above the flap but way too high up and it wouldn't be a good look at all. If I'd opt for reconstructed nipples I might end up with two small scars (additional ones) where they used to be, and then the new nipples would be a bit further down. Is what my vivid imagination is telling me.
- What about scarring and unevenness on the donor site?Especially if butt, I have a great butt and I'd be sad if it would lose shape, be scarred and look bad. But if stomach then I wouldn't worry about it. As long as it would heal well without complications, that kind of scar wouldn't bother me and the surface area would most likely end up being pretty evenly flat.
Other things to consider:
- Longer recover time, possibly more surgeries
- Might have to get nipples reconstructed which would likely look better but I might just miss them
- Boobs may look and feel more natural
Other questions I may have I think would apply to both and just in general. And my intent with this entry is to only analyse which method of reconstruction I'd wanna go for and why, not all of my thoughts/feels about reconstruction in general. I've seen more results and I will add a few to this blog entry cause I never got around to email you those. I tried to find pics of patients that look at least somewhat similar to me, but many are a lot older and fatter so erhm yeah... cause that does impact result a lot. A 64 year old black woman who's twice my size would obviously get a very, very different-looking pair of boobs from what I'd get, for example.
Let's talk about my nipples for a moment: I feel kinda "shrugs" about mine and I don't really feel all that emotionally attached to them. And here's their state: the little sensation I have left in them doesn't feel good at all but kinda painful and "icky" (I dunno how to describe it, but it's bad), sensation in them can never be regained anyhow, they're really just dried up scar tissue, the areolas are uneven in shape and size and are permanently discoloured, they don't at all look like they originally did, one is bigger and more oval than the other, the scar tissue around looks weird, they have uneven edges that look unnaturally "sharp" in contrast to the surrounding skin which bugs me. Objectively, they're trash, and I would not lose out on ditching them. But on the more subjective side, I might still be nostalgic about them, simply cause they're mine. Even though they don't feel or look like mine since my top surgery.
But if I'd get new ones reconstructed, there would be a lot of pros, such as:
- I could get them tattooed in an even and nice colour that's similar to how my original ones used to look before my top surgery (I'd likely go with a colour similar to my lips' natural shade or slightly darker, as reference).
- They'd be even in shape and could look more natural.
- I could choose their size too. And for both to be the same size.
- I could make them look quite similar to how they used to look, as I still have that old photo! (And fuck yeah, I'd show it to a surgeon!) But then they don't have to look all that similar, it could just be a reference.
- I would still have barely any sensation in them BUT the little sensation I'd have would not be painful/icky like it is now, which would be an improvement.
- They'd be made of actual skin, not just scar tissue, which means they'd be soft and nicely squishy. I miss having squishy, soft and grabbable nips. Although it wouldn't be "nipple skin" it would be better than the hard, rough scar tissue of my current situation.
Seeing that listed up and having felt things through as I wrote it... why the hell would I even want to keep my nips if getting a new pair would be better on literally ALL points?! Me and my god damned nostalgia!
By the way, a little while ago I found a lot of very good information about breast reconstruction from this channel's playlist on youtube, if a source may be of interest (I haven't watched all the vids yet though):
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIpJ04u0nhs0ykHFwetCht4r3q-sKZvM7
Okay, let's see what kinda conclusion I can whip up then!
If I had all options available for me to choose from: I think I might prefer the flap method, actually, cause it does often look more natural and I've heard it also feels more natural, cause they'd be made of my own fat tissue. It would likely cover my top surgery scars with neater scars in slightly different places. And I think I might actually be fine with tossing my natural nipples for a new pair, I'd probably not even miss them. It would be very neat to not have to worry about implants bursting open or having to replace them after a decade or two. It would be boobs of my own natural tissues, just relocated, no plastic or saline, so I think I'd feel more "connected" to them as natural parts of me then. It would be safer for karate or any kind of physical activity. Once they're done and healed there's very little risk of needing any further surgery to fix them up. I only worry slightly about the donor sites, if I'd be elegible for it even, nipples and the recovery being hard on me. Cause going through skin grafting surgery ain't no fucking rosegarden! Or at least I think it might be harsh to go through.
About the implants method, I feel I get drawn towards it mostly because it seems to be quicker and easier and have a less demanding recovery time. For actual results and living with the boobs many years after, the flap method does seem a lot better. So I think I'd choose the flap method then, actually. Cause it just feels like the wiser, more logical and all around better option. If I could be elegible for it. If not I'd just ask the surgeon about the rupture risk with karate and have a discussion about my safety concerns with implants, and also discuss nipple placement, but I'd happily go with implants if that's the only option I'd be elegible for.
Either which way I'm sure I'll get good boobs that I will give lots of love and care, BUT if I had the free unlimited choice of just picking and choosing whichever method I personally want, I'd of course still bring up all of my questions and concerns to the surgeon, but then also most likely go with the flap method. Because it will depend a lot on what the surgeon says during a consultation. I know I can only do so much in terms of my own research, vivid imagination and creative guesstimations.
I know I said pretty much the opposite probably not even a month ago, but that's because I'm more informed now, and also not in an extremely overly dysphoric/griefy mood about my chest so I can analyse it a bit more logically now. So with the new information that I have about both methods, and my emotions being a little bit more in check, I now think the flap method would probably be better than implants but I still think they're both good methods and ultimately I'd be fine with either one. But also both methods have cons that concern me a little. The biggest reason I'd rather choose the flap method with what I know now, is that I'd rather ditch my nipples than risk getting implants busted at karate, or any other activity, and because flap boobs have more/better longevity in general and seem to be more natural in both feeling and looks.
Also the stomach flap method is called "DIEP flap". Was some really long, tongue-twister of a phrase those 4 letters are short for, that I can't remember anymore.
You probably never thought you'd ever hear me say this, but: I kinda wish I had a more flabby stomach! So I could use it for a donor site for new boobs. Should I pack on some weight before surgery? I'm serious. After a consultation, of course. I mean I could do that quite easily... and I think it would be worth it cause it seems I really wanna go with that flap method, but I'm unsure if I might be too thin for it. I'd of course be very, very careful to not trigger an eating disorder relapse, VERY careful. But because I actually love my body shape now and really don't mind having a Big Beautiful Butt, I don't think it actually would trigger a relapse. I wouldn't mind it getting bigger. The thought of that actually turns me on slightly..... And then after surgery my stomach would be flatter than it has ever been... since I was 16 or something. Also I actually didn't look bad at around 80kg weight. There might be one or two pics of me from that time, dated year 2012. I just thought that I looked bad with that weight at the time cause of the dysmorphia. It wasn't a big difference from my current weight, I think. I weigh around 65-67 kg now though so aiming at 70-75 would be more reasonable, in that case. And that would only be a very slight overweight.
Am I totally crazy for actually considering gaining weight for surgery, though?! Must mean I REALLY want those boobies, huh?
At this point my stomach is really hairy still, but it has reduced a lot already and I think there's quite a high chance it will be more or less just peach fuzz on it by the time I get to consultation and/or surgery. And if not, I could just get it lasered, cause I don't wanna keep my stomach hair either which way. It itches, looks bad and I've no idea what to do with it when I wanna shave my pussy but not wanting to bloody bother with the stomach hair. I'm keeping it now ONLY so that I can see it reduce. But again, I'd of course consult with the surgeon about that first before I'd actually start gaining weight on purpose. I have a little bit of pout on my stomach already, so I'm pretty sure some extra 5 or 10 kg would surely be enough. I'd be overweight then though, which might be of concern for surgery safety. But anyhow, it's just an idea!
But I think it would actually be totally worth it though. Growing some boob material!
I'd say that's a pretty good analysis and a pretty solid conclusion. However, do keep in mind that I may still change my mind again on details like nipples, risks/safety, scarring, etc. But this is where I stand with it right now. And I feel pretty good and hopeful about it.
So, I thought I'd add some pics to give you an idea of what reconstructed boobs can kinda look like on me, taken into consideration that I of course can't find anyone with a chest that looks exactly like mine.
Okay, so I selected 4 pics in total, all slightly different, in subtle but important ways. I tried to find ones with women who are of similar size, shape, skintone and age as me, which really wasn't easy, so you've gotta use your imagination a lot if you're trying to imagine them being me. Sidenote but, me showing these pics might actually give you an idea of what I think my own body type, shape and size looks like! I think especially the first and last pic are quite close. The middle two, not as much.
Anyhow, here we go:
1. This girl only got one boob and nipple (right side in pic) reconstructed with the flap method, which I think is good to show cause you can then see how similar the reconstructed boob looks to the natural one. The stomach scar is from where they took the tissue to create the breast, which just looks like a regular tummy-tuck scar. She's 36 so not very far from my age and I think her chest looks really awesome!
Another common donor site is butt/lovehandles. That I could more surely be elegible for cause I simply, factually, have more fat tissue there. However... apparently very few surgeons are skilled enough to use tissue from that particular donor site. Which means it's not likely gonna be an option for me in this tiny country I live in that only has like 3 surgeons per area of expertise. A third option for donor site is the back, or upper side of the back. Problem with that site however.... are that I'd still need to add implants as well, I have very little fat tissue on my back in general so might not work at all, and it might mess up my motor skills forever after. So I'd opt out of that one even if I'm elegible for it, cause not worth it.
However, let's just assume I'll be elegible for and can get both the flap method (stomach and, but not likely ass/hips) and the method of getting only implants... which one would I choose?
I think both methods have a lot of pros and cons and they pretty much weigh equally. It would depend on things that are only indivual for my specific body and my life. But let's have a closer look. Here are some of my questions/worries:
Implant method:
- Karate. Would it be safe to practice karate with implants? Would it be safe enough with saline instead of silicone, in case there is a considerable risk of rupture?
- Can my chest skin stretch enough, or evenly enough, considering amount of skin there and the stretch-ability of my top surgery scars?
- Would my nipples end up in a wonky place, as I wouldn't be able to relocate them again? Risk is they'd end up way too high up and possibly also too close together or too far apart.
Other things to consider:
- Quicker recovery, possibly fewer surgeries
- Would definitely keep my real nipples but they may end up in weird placement and not look good
- Boobs may look and feel not so natural
Flap method:
- What about my nipples? Could I keep my real ones or would I have to toss them for reconstructed ones? Cause I've heard nipples that have been relocated once CAN'T be relocated again, and a flap would cover that area, or my real nipples would end up above the flap but way too high up and it wouldn't be a good look at all. If I'd opt for reconstructed nipples I might end up with two small scars (additional ones) where they used to be, and then the new nipples would be a bit further down. Is what my vivid imagination is telling me.
- What about scarring and unevenness on the donor site?Especially if butt, I have a great butt and I'd be sad if it would lose shape, be scarred and look bad. But if stomach then I wouldn't worry about it. As long as it would heal well without complications, that kind of scar wouldn't bother me and the surface area would most likely end up being pretty evenly flat.
Other things to consider:
- Longer recover time, possibly more surgeries
- Might have to get nipples reconstructed which would likely look better but I might just miss them
- Boobs may look and feel more natural
Other questions I may have I think would apply to both and just in general. And my intent with this entry is to only analyse which method of reconstruction I'd wanna go for and why, not all of my thoughts/feels about reconstruction in general. I've seen more results and I will add a few to this blog entry cause I never got around to email you those. I tried to find pics of patients that look at least somewhat similar to me, but many are a lot older and fatter so erhm yeah... cause that does impact result a lot. A 64 year old black woman who's twice my size would obviously get a very, very different-looking pair of boobs from what I'd get, for example.
Let's talk about my nipples for a moment: I feel kinda "shrugs" about mine and I don't really feel all that emotionally attached to them. And here's their state: the little sensation I have left in them doesn't feel good at all but kinda painful and "icky" (I dunno how to describe it, but it's bad), sensation in them can never be regained anyhow, they're really just dried up scar tissue, the areolas are uneven in shape and size and are permanently discoloured, they don't at all look like they originally did, one is bigger and more oval than the other, the scar tissue around looks weird, they have uneven edges that look unnaturally "sharp" in contrast to the surrounding skin which bugs me. Objectively, they're trash, and I would not lose out on ditching them. But on the more subjective side, I might still be nostalgic about them, simply cause they're mine. Even though they don't feel or look like mine since my top surgery.
But if I'd get new ones reconstructed, there would be a lot of pros, such as:
- I could get them tattooed in an even and nice colour that's similar to how my original ones used to look before my top surgery (I'd likely go with a colour similar to my lips' natural shade or slightly darker, as reference).
- They'd be even in shape and could look more natural.
- I could choose their size too. And for both to be the same size.
- I could make them look quite similar to how they used to look, as I still have that old photo! (And fuck yeah, I'd show it to a surgeon!) But then they don't have to look all that similar, it could just be a reference.
- I would still have barely any sensation in them BUT the little sensation I'd have would not be painful/icky like it is now, which would be an improvement.
- They'd be made of actual skin, not just scar tissue, which means they'd be soft and nicely squishy. I miss having squishy, soft and grabbable nips. Although it wouldn't be "nipple skin" it would be better than the hard, rough scar tissue of my current situation.
Seeing that listed up and having felt things through as I wrote it... why the hell would I even want to keep my nips if getting a new pair would be better on literally ALL points?! Me and my god damned nostalgia!
By the way, a little while ago I found a lot of very good information about breast reconstruction from this channel's playlist on youtube, if a source may be of interest (I haven't watched all the vids yet though):
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIpJ04u0nhs0ykHFwetCht4r3q-sKZvM7
Okay, let's see what kinda conclusion I can whip up then!
If I had all options available for me to choose from: I think I might prefer the flap method, actually, cause it does often look more natural and I've heard it also feels more natural, cause they'd be made of my own fat tissue. It would likely cover my top surgery scars with neater scars in slightly different places. And I think I might actually be fine with tossing my natural nipples for a new pair, I'd probably not even miss them. It would be very neat to not have to worry about implants bursting open or having to replace them after a decade or two. It would be boobs of my own natural tissues, just relocated, no plastic or saline, so I think I'd feel more "connected" to them as natural parts of me then. It would be safer for karate or any kind of physical activity. Once they're done and healed there's very little risk of needing any further surgery to fix them up. I only worry slightly about the donor sites, if I'd be elegible for it even, nipples and the recovery being hard on me. Cause going through skin grafting surgery ain't no fucking rosegarden! Or at least I think it might be harsh to go through.
About the implants method, I feel I get drawn towards it mostly because it seems to be quicker and easier and have a less demanding recovery time. For actual results and living with the boobs many years after, the flap method does seem a lot better. So I think I'd choose the flap method then, actually. Cause it just feels like the wiser, more logical and all around better option. If I could be elegible for it. If not I'd just ask the surgeon about the rupture risk with karate and have a discussion about my safety concerns with implants, and also discuss nipple placement, but I'd happily go with implants if that's the only option I'd be elegible for.
Either which way I'm sure I'll get good boobs that I will give lots of love and care, BUT if I had the free unlimited choice of just picking and choosing whichever method I personally want, I'd of course still bring up all of my questions and concerns to the surgeon, but then also most likely go with the flap method. Because it will depend a lot on what the surgeon says during a consultation. I know I can only do so much in terms of my own research, vivid imagination and creative guesstimations.
I know I said pretty much the opposite probably not even a month ago, but that's because I'm more informed now, and also not in an extremely overly dysphoric/griefy mood about my chest so I can analyse it a bit more logically now. So with the new information that I have about both methods, and my emotions being a little bit more in check, I now think the flap method would probably be better than implants but I still think they're both good methods and ultimately I'd be fine with either one. But also both methods have cons that concern me a little. The biggest reason I'd rather choose the flap method with what I know now, is that I'd rather ditch my nipples than risk getting implants busted at karate, or any other activity, and because flap boobs have more/better longevity in general and seem to be more natural in both feeling and looks.
Also the stomach flap method is called "DIEP flap". Was some really long, tongue-twister of a phrase those 4 letters are short for, that I can't remember anymore.
You probably never thought you'd ever hear me say this, but: I kinda wish I had a more flabby stomach! So I could use it for a donor site for new boobs. Should I pack on some weight before surgery? I'm serious. After a consultation, of course. I mean I could do that quite easily... and I think it would be worth it cause it seems I really wanna go with that flap method, but I'm unsure if I might be too thin for it. I'd of course be very, very careful to not trigger an eating disorder relapse, VERY careful. But because I actually love my body shape now and really don't mind having a Big Beautiful Butt, I don't think it actually would trigger a relapse. I wouldn't mind it getting bigger. The thought of that actually turns me on slightly..... And then after surgery my stomach would be flatter than it has ever been... since I was 16 or something. Also I actually didn't look bad at around 80kg weight. There might be one or two pics of me from that time, dated year 2012. I just thought that I looked bad with that weight at the time cause of the dysmorphia. It wasn't a big difference from my current weight, I think. I weigh around 65-67 kg now though so aiming at 70-75 would be more reasonable, in that case. And that would only be a very slight overweight.
Am I totally crazy for actually considering gaining weight for surgery, though?! Must mean I REALLY want those boobies, huh?
At this point my stomach is really hairy still, but it has reduced a lot already and I think there's quite a high chance it will be more or less just peach fuzz on it by the time I get to consultation and/or surgery. And if not, I could just get it lasered, cause I don't wanna keep my stomach hair either which way. It itches, looks bad and I've no idea what to do with it when I wanna shave my pussy but not wanting to bloody bother with the stomach hair. I'm keeping it now ONLY so that I can see it reduce. But again, I'd of course consult with the surgeon about that first before I'd actually start gaining weight on purpose. I have a little bit of pout on my stomach already, so I'm pretty sure some extra 5 or 10 kg would surely be enough. I'd be overweight then though, which might be of concern for surgery safety. But anyhow, it's just an idea!
But I think it would actually be totally worth it though. Growing some boob material!
I'd say that's a pretty good analysis and a pretty solid conclusion. However, do keep in mind that I may still change my mind again on details like nipples, risks/safety, scarring, etc. But this is where I stand with it right now. And I feel pretty good and hopeful about it.
So, I thought I'd add some pics to give you an idea of what reconstructed boobs can kinda look like on me, taken into consideration that I of course can't find anyone with a chest that looks exactly like mine.
Okay, so I selected 4 pics in total, all slightly different, in subtle but important ways. I tried to find ones with women who are of similar size, shape, skintone and age as me, which really wasn't easy, so you've gotta use your imagination a lot if you're trying to imagine them being me. Sidenote but, me showing these pics might actually give you an idea of what I think my own body type, shape and size looks like! I think especially the first and last pic are quite close. The middle two, not as much.
Anyhow, here we go:
1. This girl only got one boob and nipple (right side in pic) reconstructed with the flap method, which I think is good to show cause you can then see how similar the reconstructed boob looks to the natural one. The stomach scar is from where they took the tissue to create the breast, which just looks like a regular tummy-tuck scar. She's 36 so not very far from my age and I think her chest looks really awesome!
2. I chose this picture cause her scars are kinda similar to the ones I
have, just a bit higher up and slightly different angle. Mine would be
below the nipples and more straight across. That's both boobs reconstructed,
with just implants, no grafting. Here you can also see what she looked liked before,
and that there had been quite some time between mastectomy and
reconstruction. Nipples are reconstructed too. It doesn't look as
natural, but also likely cause she's very thin which makes the implants
"pop out" a bit more, and she was perhaps not elegible for the flap
method due to her thinness. Don't know her age but looks young enough,
but I can't guess if she's 20 or 40 even... I still think these are
good-looking boobs though and I'd be happy with that kind of result.
3. This woman's a little older at 41, a bit heavier than me and looks quite different from me in general, but I just think her boobs turned out so incredibly good and very natural-looking I just had to include this pic! If it wasn't for the scarring around the nipples I would not think twice about them being natural, including the nipples. Consider me impressed! Flap method, says website, but I honestly can't figure out how. Looks more like a breast reduction, but I know it's not. Donor site is stomach here as well. Honestly, I'd fucking kill to have boobs like these! (and also if I may be so rude to say, I actually think her reconstructed ones look much better than her original ones did.)
4. And then this last one I wanna show because this is implant only and it's her natural nipples. Not to be mean or anything... Her boobs look absolutely amazing! ...but her nipple placement worries me a little bit. Cause I think that would happen with my nipples too if I'll keep them and go with implants... that they'll just take off somewhere. Granted, this does not at all look bad and I even think the skew nipples look really cute on her, it's just that the asymmetry and them being so far apart would bother me if it was my chest. I think it looks like she just had an augmentation, and a good one at that. In my mind it doesn't look super natural, but very good nonetheless. She's 26, and more tan, but otherwise quite similar-looking to me, I think.
That's the end of the gallery. I hope blogger won't complain about me posting these pics here on my blog. My blog is "child banned" already so it should be fine that it's tits, but it's also not sexual at all, but for a VERY medical reason. I obviously don't own any rights to these pictures and just found them online, but the women are anonymous and I do post them with all good intentions and no body shaming. I'm even complimenting them. I really hope they are as happy with their chests as I would be if I looked like they do. Just as a disclaimer, I guess. Cause I think it can be important to show the one or two people who read my blog the reality of what I'm faced with. And what I mean when I say I think reconstructed breasts I've seen online look really good and I'd love to have that. I'm jealous! And I can't fucking wait for my own reconstruction to happen! So yeah, these pics are highly inspirational for me and I'm really grateful those women posted their pics online so that I could see them and be jealous as well as more informed of what kind of result I could be expecting and realistically hoping for.
Friday, 30 November 2018
Broken without my home
Fuck... I hit a new low and it's the absolute bottom. A fair warning: this entry is very dark, sad and upsetting. It will likely worry you, but please read it all through before you panic.
This pain... it's soooo strong it makes my chest physically hurt. I can't bear this. I literally can't bear this anymore. I got angry at another useless shit thing again but it led to something else... something much worse. I realised that the reason every little shit thing pisses me off so bad is because it makes me feel like I can't do anything at all and that everything is completely hopeless. That's why I get temporarily suicidal when I get angry. But this time... that feeling stayed. Cause I looked into it, and it opened quite a can of worms. It's breaking me.
It made me feel this intense pain that's pushing extremely hard inside but it can't get out. It's locked inside. It all made me realise, after the anger was gone again, that I don't wanna live anymore. Cause it's too much. Now it broke the seal, and tipped me over the edge. I can't carry this weight anymore. I can't even lift it.
I don't wanna do any suicide attempts, don't even wanna plan it. But I can't live either. Not like this. I know I've done good. I know I've tried my absolute hardest to stay above the surface. I feel grateful towards myself and how well I've done. It's not my fault that it got too much. I almost expected it would someday. These past couple of weeks or so I've felt I've been getting worse very rapidly and losing the grip.
This is NOT a suicide letter, I'm not going anywhere. I've only just admitted to myself that this is how I feel. And I'm just venting it now. I've no intentions or plans. If or when I feel even the SLIGHTEST hint towards actually killing myself, I'll run fast to the psychiatric emergency. Because I want help and I want to be able to live. First and foremost that is what I want. I want to live but I just can't. So what I'll do now? I'll vent, I'll talk, I'll sit on my ass and continue doing nothing in my apartment that's slowly becoming a health hazard. I've more important things to worry about than some clothing piles and nasty but dried up dishes. I'll try my best to just stay calm, rest a lot, try to take care of my body as well as I can, listen to myself, just try to let these feelings exist in me and if I can release them in some harmless healthy ways that would be very good. That's my plan. And if I can't manage it, I'll call the psych.
I don't want for this detrans shit to kill me. I really really don't. It feels like it's literally sucking all the life force out of me, draining me until there's just nothing left, like I have no control over it, and it's killing me. But I keep trying to fight it and find ways to stay alive and cope. And I will continue trying.
Oh god I'm glad I didn't go to Uppsala to see my friends there this week. I kinda had a hunch I was too mentally unwell to manage it. Guess I was kinda right. Yeah, they invited me to a party there (which is tomorrow, but I've known about it for 2 weeks) and I guess that was a hint that I was invited to stay at their place and hang out, but I just couldn't. Couldn't even handle the thought of packing a bag. Let alone actually traveling. I fantasise about seeing them again. Maybe by spring. Maybe who knows what. I don't think they care or think much about me anymore. That makes it practically impossible for me to even send a fucking text message to them. That too hurts too much.
My best friend is irreplacable, and my broken heart knows that. We were soulmates. Soulmate sisters, we used to say. And we were gonna stick together forever, inseparable. Whatever happened to that? I dunno. It happened before I moved here, some 7 years ago. I love her to death and beyond, but I can't pick up the phone to text her. Cause I think she gave up on us. It hurts more and more by the day. Especially this week when I got that party invitation but no message. I didn't know what to think. And she never even likes or replies to any of my facebook posts, but she does to the friends we have in common. I always like her posts and check her page. Makes me wonder if she unfollowed me. If I'm dead to her or something.
But anyhow. That probably exacerbated my mood plummeting. And my hormones being whackier than ever since pms-ing, then period happening with extremely painful cramps and a complete inability to regulate my body temperature. Yeah, I know full well that this suicidal thing could just be cause my hormones are literally all over the fucking place right now. I've no idea what either my estrogen or my testosterone are doing, but it's not nice whatever it is. Not surprising at all if they fuck up my mood massively as well. But holy shit this isn't an okay level to be at. It's just really not. I got a doctor's appointment on the 10th, if I can hang on until then without having to go get myself locked up somewhere safe, I can bring up my issue with moodswings or what's going on to that doctor. I don't think it's really mood swings though, more like mood dip and it's not getting back up again. It just keeps plummeting.
Oh god I just wanna disappear... just lie down somewhere soft and warm and fall asleep and not wake up again. That would be so sweet. Just rest forever. I'm cold again. Soon I'll overheat. Whatever. Somehow I can't be bothered to care about that anymore. This pain of detransing is choking me, it's suffocating me. I don't wanna care about my looks anymore. I don't wanna feel this way. My chest grief spread out to include my testo changes as well, and that grief completely consumed me. Swallowed me whole. I think that's why I hit this breaking point. It felt like the chest grief alone was getting too much. Then it grew massively. And that totally tipped me over the edge.
I feel so horrible, and utterly horrified, about my body. I've destroyed it. That's all my feelings are telling me right now. That I destroyed my own body, permanently, and I can't restore it... ever again. That feeling is pure pain and it's currently digging a hole in my chest. I think most of that pain comes from the result of what my body became like, it comes from that feeling of regret and that I know I shouldn't have done it... it comes from what I can't get back... I just shouldn't have fucking transitioned! Sex change, my ass! It didn't make me a man... it only ruined my womanhood. Tore it to fucking shreds. Like a meat-grinder. It ruined me, it literally ruined me. What the fuck have I done?! What have I done to myself... how could I? How could I... I just want my body back... the way nature made it for me. How could I ruin that gift?
I did know I had natural beauty, back in my teens. I don't think I've ever told you this... or anyone for that matter... Cause as a trans guy I was ashamed of it, and now as a detrans fuckup it just really REALLY hurts to even just think about it... but I was really confident about my body when I was around 13-17 years old. I loved showing it off and took every chance I could to flash it cause I was so proud of its beauty, I loved my curves, I loved my boobs, I loved my face, even my big ass... I loved the completeness of it. I did feel complete... for but a fraction of my life... before my rapist and R destroyed that feeling. Before I destroyed my own beauty... and here I am, grieving my fucking heart to pieces.
Yeah, my gender is "fuckup" now, cause I don't deserve to be a woman. Wow, that sentence really hurt to write. I love being a woman, I truly do... it's the sweetest, most comforting thing ever, to truly love my womanhood like that... it's such a warming and genuine love... and being a woman is the best, most beautiful thing ever in this dark cruel world... that's one of the truly good things I saw and can't unsee, the amazingness of being a woman... but I can't forgive myself for what I've done. I erased my womanhood. And what's left is a fuckup. I don't have a woman's body anymore. I have a fuckup's body. Cause I fucked it up.
Be careful what you wish... cause it might just come true.
I don't know how to possibly survive this. It feels like I can't. Like it's just not possible. Like the tragedy that is my life has no end. It will just keep getting worse until I stop it from becoming even worse ever again. Before I pull the breaks on life. I can't find any solutions to anything. I'm just barely even here. Stuck in survival mode. I can't just sit and wait for "better times" my entire life! Cause I've never done anything else than waiting for things to get better. I've never actually enjoyed life. It makes me wonder what's really the point of it all.
And oh god... Last time I was in a psych ward for being suicidal... was because I hated my pre-transition body and couldn't live without getting to transition! Realising that now just broke my fucking heart. No, it fucking shattered it! Will I ever find peace with my body? I love my body... I want for it to be well. It's a good a lovely body that functions so well and doesn't look bad... considering its circumstances. It's very comforting and warm to hold it, the smooth skin and little hairs on it that feel good to touch... the way it responds when I touch it... but it's broken and I can't connect to what I've done to it. I can only connect to what's original/natural about it. That is what I feel is the real me. The unaltered parts. That's what truly clicking with me. Those parts are sooo amazing I don't even have words to describe how much I truly, genuinely love them. I treasure them so much, and hold onto them so hard, cause I still have them and they're mine and I need them so much. They comfort me. But the rest, the altered stuff... I can't bear it. I feel so sad for how I've hurt my body... Transitioning saved my life back in 2013 but now my treatment is killing me. Was it worth it then? If it does kill me... truly hoping it won't... was it ever worth it?
I can't think clearly. This pain is blocking my mental pathways. This pain has dug enough holes in me for me to feel it almost constantly now. Everything trans triggers me, to either sadness or anger. I don't know what to possibly do to distract or amuse myself online or anywhere. I don't have any creativity or interests. I don't know for how long except from the few random spurs. It's just me and my pain. I can't draw, I can't write. I can't unfocus, I can't breathe. I'm stuck in this quicksand and I keep sinking. That's a very good description of my situation actually: quicksand.
I read your reply to my previos blog post, X. Thank you, it was really good things you brought up. I read it on my way to see my therapist yesterday, I was just on my way to leave when you told me you wrote and sent it. So I didn't have time to tell you I was gonna read it and was happy you wrote it. Then I've just been too miserable to talk to you at all. Also got my 5th present from you today. Thank you. This one actually is wine red.
"We've fallen deep so far inside
behind the walls we choose to hide
We cannot love, we can only feed, the liar inside
Our heavy heart died long ago
We shut down truth, claimed we didn't know
and then we smiled into the face of the liar inside"
- the chorus from "The liar inside" by Human Drama.
Maybe these feelings won't lead to any actual plans or attempts. Maybe it won't get worse than to just wishing I was dead. That's bad in itself, but not as bad as actual actions in that direction. Me being suicidal doesn't always lead to actions. Sometimes it's just a feeling. Let's hope it's like that this time, and that I'll get better again soon. I do want to get better.
Can I end this entry on that note, without worrying you to panic? I hate it when anyone is worried about me. I hate it so much. But I just have to vent and maybe it's good for to know. But please just see it for what it is: me admitting to feeling this way. Nothing more. It doesn't change my actions. But I will be more careful and more keen. I will try my absolute hardest to prevent any actual attempts. That much I can promise.
This pain... it's soooo strong it makes my chest physically hurt. I can't bear this. I literally can't bear this anymore. I got angry at another useless shit thing again but it led to something else... something much worse. I realised that the reason every little shit thing pisses me off so bad is because it makes me feel like I can't do anything at all and that everything is completely hopeless. That's why I get temporarily suicidal when I get angry. But this time... that feeling stayed. Cause I looked into it, and it opened quite a can of worms. It's breaking me.
It made me feel this intense pain that's pushing extremely hard inside but it can't get out. It's locked inside. It all made me realise, after the anger was gone again, that I don't wanna live anymore. Cause it's too much. Now it broke the seal, and tipped me over the edge. I can't carry this weight anymore. I can't even lift it.
I don't wanna do any suicide attempts, don't even wanna plan it. But I can't live either. Not like this. I know I've done good. I know I've tried my absolute hardest to stay above the surface. I feel grateful towards myself and how well I've done. It's not my fault that it got too much. I almost expected it would someday. These past couple of weeks or so I've felt I've been getting worse very rapidly and losing the grip.
This is NOT a suicide letter, I'm not going anywhere. I've only just admitted to myself that this is how I feel. And I'm just venting it now. I've no intentions or plans. If or when I feel even the SLIGHTEST hint towards actually killing myself, I'll run fast to the psychiatric emergency. Because I want help and I want to be able to live. First and foremost that is what I want. I want to live but I just can't. So what I'll do now? I'll vent, I'll talk, I'll sit on my ass and continue doing nothing in my apartment that's slowly becoming a health hazard. I've more important things to worry about than some clothing piles and nasty but dried up dishes. I'll try my best to just stay calm, rest a lot, try to take care of my body as well as I can, listen to myself, just try to let these feelings exist in me and if I can release them in some harmless healthy ways that would be very good. That's my plan. And if I can't manage it, I'll call the psych.
I don't want for this detrans shit to kill me. I really really don't. It feels like it's literally sucking all the life force out of me, draining me until there's just nothing left, like I have no control over it, and it's killing me. But I keep trying to fight it and find ways to stay alive and cope. And I will continue trying.
Oh god I'm glad I didn't go to Uppsala to see my friends there this week. I kinda had a hunch I was too mentally unwell to manage it. Guess I was kinda right. Yeah, they invited me to a party there (which is tomorrow, but I've known about it for 2 weeks) and I guess that was a hint that I was invited to stay at their place and hang out, but I just couldn't. Couldn't even handle the thought of packing a bag. Let alone actually traveling. I fantasise about seeing them again. Maybe by spring. Maybe who knows what. I don't think they care or think much about me anymore. That makes it practically impossible for me to even send a fucking text message to them. That too hurts too much.
My best friend is irreplacable, and my broken heart knows that. We were soulmates. Soulmate sisters, we used to say. And we were gonna stick together forever, inseparable. Whatever happened to that? I dunno. It happened before I moved here, some 7 years ago. I love her to death and beyond, but I can't pick up the phone to text her. Cause I think she gave up on us. It hurts more and more by the day. Especially this week when I got that party invitation but no message. I didn't know what to think. And she never even likes or replies to any of my facebook posts, but she does to the friends we have in common. I always like her posts and check her page. Makes me wonder if she unfollowed me. If I'm dead to her or something.
But anyhow. That probably exacerbated my mood plummeting. And my hormones being whackier than ever since pms-ing, then period happening with extremely painful cramps and a complete inability to regulate my body temperature. Yeah, I know full well that this suicidal thing could just be cause my hormones are literally all over the fucking place right now. I've no idea what either my estrogen or my testosterone are doing, but it's not nice whatever it is. Not surprising at all if they fuck up my mood massively as well. But holy shit this isn't an okay level to be at. It's just really not. I got a doctor's appointment on the 10th, if I can hang on until then without having to go get myself locked up somewhere safe, I can bring up my issue with moodswings or what's going on to that doctor. I don't think it's really mood swings though, more like mood dip and it's not getting back up again. It just keeps plummeting.
Oh god I just wanna disappear... just lie down somewhere soft and warm and fall asleep and not wake up again. That would be so sweet. Just rest forever. I'm cold again. Soon I'll overheat. Whatever. Somehow I can't be bothered to care about that anymore. This pain of detransing is choking me, it's suffocating me. I don't wanna care about my looks anymore. I don't wanna feel this way. My chest grief spread out to include my testo changes as well, and that grief completely consumed me. Swallowed me whole. I think that's why I hit this breaking point. It felt like the chest grief alone was getting too much. Then it grew massively. And that totally tipped me over the edge.
I feel so horrible, and utterly horrified, about my body. I've destroyed it. That's all my feelings are telling me right now. That I destroyed my own body, permanently, and I can't restore it... ever again. That feeling is pure pain and it's currently digging a hole in my chest. I think most of that pain comes from the result of what my body became like, it comes from that feeling of regret and that I know I shouldn't have done it... it comes from what I can't get back... I just shouldn't have fucking transitioned! Sex change, my ass! It didn't make me a man... it only ruined my womanhood. Tore it to fucking shreds. Like a meat-grinder. It ruined me, it literally ruined me. What the fuck have I done?! What have I done to myself... how could I? How could I... I just want my body back... the way nature made it for me. How could I ruin that gift?
I did know I had natural beauty, back in my teens. I don't think I've ever told you this... or anyone for that matter... Cause as a trans guy I was ashamed of it, and now as a detrans fuckup it just really REALLY hurts to even just think about it... but I was really confident about my body when I was around 13-17 years old. I loved showing it off and took every chance I could to flash it cause I was so proud of its beauty, I loved my curves, I loved my boobs, I loved my face, even my big ass... I loved the completeness of it. I did feel complete... for but a fraction of my life... before my rapist and R destroyed that feeling. Before I destroyed my own beauty... and here I am, grieving my fucking heart to pieces.
Yeah, my gender is "fuckup" now, cause I don't deserve to be a woman. Wow, that sentence really hurt to write. I love being a woman, I truly do... it's the sweetest, most comforting thing ever, to truly love my womanhood like that... it's such a warming and genuine love... and being a woman is the best, most beautiful thing ever in this dark cruel world... that's one of the truly good things I saw and can't unsee, the amazingness of being a woman... but I can't forgive myself for what I've done. I erased my womanhood. And what's left is a fuckup. I don't have a woman's body anymore. I have a fuckup's body. Cause I fucked it up.
Be careful what you wish... cause it might just come true.
I don't know how to possibly survive this. It feels like I can't. Like it's just not possible. Like the tragedy that is my life has no end. It will just keep getting worse until I stop it from becoming even worse ever again. Before I pull the breaks on life. I can't find any solutions to anything. I'm just barely even here. Stuck in survival mode. I can't just sit and wait for "better times" my entire life! Cause I've never done anything else than waiting for things to get better. I've never actually enjoyed life. It makes me wonder what's really the point of it all.
And oh god... Last time I was in a psych ward for being suicidal... was because I hated my pre-transition body and couldn't live without getting to transition! Realising that now just broke my fucking heart. No, it fucking shattered it! Will I ever find peace with my body? I love my body... I want for it to be well. It's a good a lovely body that functions so well and doesn't look bad... considering its circumstances. It's very comforting and warm to hold it, the smooth skin and little hairs on it that feel good to touch... the way it responds when I touch it... but it's broken and I can't connect to what I've done to it. I can only connect to what's original/natural about it. That is what I feel is the real me. The unaltered parts. That's what truly clicking with me. Those parts are sooo amazing I don't even have words to describe how much I truly, genuinely love them. I treasure them so much, and hold onto them so hard, cause I still have them and they're mine and I need them so much. They comfort me. But the rest, the altered stuff... I can't bear it. I feel so sad for how I've hurt my body... Transitioning saved my life back in 2013 but now my treatment is killing me. Was it worth it then? If it does kill me... truly hoping it won't... was it ever worth it?
I can't think clearly. This pain is blocking my mental pathways. This pain has dug enough holes in me for me to feel it almost constantly now. Everything trans triggers me, to either sadness or anger. I don't know what to possibly do to distract or amuse myself online or anywhere. I don't have any creativity or interests. I don't know for how long except from the few random spurs. It's just me and my pain. I can't draw, I can't write. I can't unfocus, I can't breathe. I'm stuck in this quicksand and I keep sinking. That's a very good description of my situation actually: quicksand.
I read your reply to my previos blog post, X. Thank you, it was really good things you brought up. I read it on my way to see my therapist yesterday, I was just on my way to leave when you told me you wrote and sent it. So I didn't have time to tell you I was gonna read it and was happy you wrote it. Then I've just been too miserable to talk to you at all. Also got my 5th present from you today. Thank you. This one actually is wine red.
"We've fallen deep so far inside
behind the walls we choose to hide
We cannot love, we can only feed, the liar inside
Our heavy heart died long ago
We shut down truth, claimed we didn't know
and then we smiled into the face of the liar inside"
- the chorus from "The liar inside" by Human Drama.
Maybe these feelings won't lead to any actual plans or attempts. Maybe it won't get worse than to just wishing I was dead. That's bad in itself, but not as bad as actual actions in that direction. Me being suicidal doesn't always lead to actions. Sometimes it's just a feeling. Let's hope it's like that this time, and that I'll get better again soon. I do want to get better.
Can I end this entry on that note, without worrying you to panic? I hate it when anyone is worried about me. I hate it so much. But I just have to vent and maybe it's good for to know. But please just see it for what it is: me admitting to feeling this way. Nothing more. It doesn't change my actions. But I will be more careful and more keen. I will try my absolute hardest to prevent any actual attempts. That much I can promise.
Thursday, 29 November 2018
Torn between my vacation and my home
This has been a bad week but I'm slowly starting to get slightly better, at least physically. My crap diet, forgetting meds, crap sleeping pattern, etc had caught up with me bad. That it was pms on top of that as well I didn't know until I woke up this morning with my first period for almost 2 years now. And I was so relieved to see that red spot in my pantiliner. I've never been so happy to see my own blood before, ahaha...
I've gotten a bit better sleep pattern, managed to remember taking my meds for the past few days, and also managed to fix up my diet slightly. My diet had gotten so bad it took a toll on my digestive system with intense stomach pains and constipation, so I had to do something. High fiber toasts instead of muffins, was the only solution I could physically manage, and barely even that. That seems to be helping a lot though, so that's good.
Emotionally I'm pretty much still as messy though. I don't feel connected to my emotions and feel constantly weighed down by them. Like a dull, pounding sadness and built up frustration constantly brewing in the background. It keeps me tense and on edge.
I wrote a reply to a post at Susan's Place that I think really captures how I feel about my body but specifically my face these days. Like I've noticed I do feel a quite strong disconnect to how I look which is probably something like gender dysphoria. I struggle to make sense of the feeling, but it's not like I reject the traits I feel dysphoric about, I just can't connect to them and it's more of a "shut off" feeling.
Like this metaphor I made, I think really illustrated how that feeling presents itself within myself:
"It feels more like a self-loving disconnect like I'm patiently waiting for my body to pick up the phone on the other end but all I get is a "the number you're calling is currently unavailable" and I just keep calling and leaving sweet, caring voice mail messages. Please call back soon, I need you. And it feels like a sad sigh of "oh what have I done to myself" without really wanting to dig into the true depth of that feeling, so it stays at a barely managable surface level."
It's like a haunting feeling of wondering if my body is really alright, like trying to get a hold of a friend who you know is suffering but they never answer your calls. And like you really care about them and love them, and you're getting desperate like "pleeeaase call back, I care about you so much, I just wanna hear your voice" but they never do, and it worries you, but also you know they're still alive and all.
But it's also that feeling like I betrayed myself and am sorry towards myself. Like I really hurt myself and I feel so bad about it. That's what I regret the most. That I hurt myself by transitioning.
It's an eerily haunting feeling, and very heavy. Like my body doesn't wanna respond cause it's upset with me and the changes I've done to it. I'm so sorry and I just wanna help making it better, but I don't know how and my options are limited. I'm scared to hurt you more, again. This "new" (yeah old) dysphoric feeling is regards to my changes from testosterone. And I've noticed I actually feel similarly towards them as I do towards my chest: grief, and regret. I feel very conflicted about my hairiness, face shape changes, obviously my facial hair, hairline and little conflicted about my voice. Cause I do feel like those things made me "less me" like they changed my looks in a way that makes me feel disconnected to myself, cause it's not what I naturally had, it's not something I truly ever wanted (just thought I did), but it was a mistake that I came to love.
Do you remember that metaphor I once made about feeling like my femaleness is like my home that I'm missing terribly, and my maleness is like a beautiful and amazing vacation? Keep that in mind for a moment:
Essentially I'm torn between if I should reverse the changes or try to make amends with them. Cause what feeling often comes along with regret? The fear of making more regrets, no matter which way you go. I am scared to make any more permanent changes to my body due to what I personally think is dysphoria, cause I've been wrong before and it had devastating consequences. So like, me trying to reconcile and make amends with my facial hair, deep voice, etc and having decided to keep those things doesn't mean I have no issues with them.
I can't connect them to my female gender, but I also don't have the heart to reverse of them, cause my heart is torn between my vacation and my home.
I feel like that about my body. Both missing how it was originally and not wanting to reverse it cause I also love how it became. I'm both dysphoric and satisfied with it at the same time and that's a very tough mix of feelings to deal with. Cause I'm clearly not dealing with it. Like I just dunno what to do about it. I feel at a loss with it. It's an intense inner struggle of self-love and disconnect, trying to connect but not getting an answer, feeling betrayed by myself and grieving my lost original beauty. Just because I once had it but now it's gone.
Perhaps I was too quick on saying I've "integrated my male and female sides" cause this doesn't feel integrated at all. Perhaps I've missed a piece of that puzzle and became disintegrated again. And also I feel much more feminine and female than I first gave myself credit for. Or rather I "backtracked" a little bit into my detransing when I started thinking I was more androgynous than I really think I am. Truth is I don't know how much of my androgyny is genuine or "learned" from my upbringing. But I do truly feel like I need to be really female to feel right and connected to my body, although I'm not sure what that means. What's "female enough" for me? How much more female do I need to be? Is there a limit of what would be "too female" for my liking, and in that case what's that?
Boobs and pussy, hell yeah. Thin waist and wide hips too. And smoothness does feel like something I need a bit more of but I don't know how much, and voice wise I really don't know. All my gut and heart is telling me is that I need for my body to be "unmistakenly female" like no one would ever doubt I'm a woman unless they're blind. Like... give me back my passing privilege! I don't think I truly feel like my male traits are "me" in that deep sense of self kind of way, but rather that I just really like them and would panic if I lost them. I wear them like precious jewellery I refuse to take off, but I don't wear them like my actual skin or parts of myself.
I know they technically ARE parts of my actual body, and that's exactly why I struggle with them so bad, cause in my mind I don't connect to them as parts of my actual self, but like additions to my actual self. Like they're part of my style that I really really love, but I want to be able to take off my style and be naked without my male traits. But I can't. I can't take them off and then put them back on again. I don't feel like I'm naked enough when I'm actually naked because of my male traits. Like I really like my black lacey skirts and my wine red lipstick, but I would get really scared and panicky if I one day couldn't take them off anymore.
And I think I've figured out that I feel like that about my male traits. Them being permanent on my body scares and haunts me, but I don't want to lose them forever. It's especially hard when I meet people that I don't want for to see me with stubble, don't want for them to know I grow hair there, and I can't hide it well enough. Just try to imagine having sex with a full face of makeup to cover it up and being so damn worried it'll rub off on the sheets or on my partner that I can't even relax and enjoy myself properly. And forget about them staying the night cause they'd rub up against my damn sandpaper rough stubbly face in the next morning.
I don't wanna have to deal with that. For god knows how long. I can't connect it to my womanhood, I just can't. It's just way too manly. And it makes me feel so awkward and weird and uncomfortable about it. Cause like 99% of people do connect beards to men and not to women. Except from dicks, beards are kinda considered the most male body trait possible. Others don't see me as a real woman with it, and I can't blame them. Cause neither can I. My feelings just keep screaming that at me, and I can't comfort them.
I still need those traits as a temporary addition, but that I can't possibly have. Being stuck with the only two options of either keeping them forever on me or removing them to never be able to have them again... fills me with an existential crisis like no fucking other. Because both those options are wrong for me, probably equally wrong even, and I can't think of any way I could possibly solve that situation.
It makes me wanna cry. It makes me feel inconsolable sadness. Like it's just too painful. I love the way I look now, but I feel a terrible disconnect to it cause it's not how I see myself. Oh what should I do?
I think this might be a period of conflicting feelings that eventually will lead to me realising I'm holding onto the silver lining of a damaged past and not truly going for what I actually need for myself. I think I will eventually come to a point where I'll realise I simply have to let go of my male traits. Cause no matter how good they were for me in the past, they're harmful for me now. I'm just refusing to accept that. It's not my femaleness that is dead or dying... it's my maleness. And I refuse to bury it. Still holding on to its lifeless body. I can't move on... unless I let go of him.
But I need more time. And some fucking useful therapy! How much longer do I need to wait for that!? And who the HELL am I even supposed to talk to about these detrans feelings? I'm spinning in circles, I'm biting my own tail, I'm fucking trapped in my misery and it's just getting worse. And my therapist doesn't get it and I can't convey it, what the hell am I supposed to do?! I'm getting desperate! I'm figuratively biting myself bloody over this. I'm so tired. I can't get anything done. I haven't managed to clean any dirty dishes or get any laundry done for months. Fucking months!!! I just keep buying new clothes, but I can't keep up with that anymore either and I'm running out of clean underwear... I keep eating on dirty plates and drinking from dirty cups. I've drank coffee from the same dirty cup that I haven't cleaned for like... a month?! It's insane! I can't do anything except from sitting on my ass by my computer and going to "therapy" that is utterly unhelpful just hoping it will get helpful soon while I'm fucking withering away in my own filth!
It doesn't bother me on a personal level, like it doesn't gross me out, but I need to be clean in public and if I can't do laundry I will stink. And I can't perfume my fucking underwear, my pussy would hate me for it. Well this entry is becoming a really whiny book on its own... but I'm just so desperate now. And really feeling like I'm just losing it. Like I've gotten lost in my grief and there's just nothing else. I can't zoom out cause it keeps pulling me down. I can't think about anything else, I can't feel anything else, it's suffocating me, day, night, every hour every minute every fucking second even. It exhausts me. Even in conversations with other people all that's on my mind is "grief grief boobs detrans detrans grief detrans hormones boobs detrans grief grief detrans" and I can't even hear what others say when it's not about that. I've gotten so absorbed in it cause I can't process it properly. It just keeps churning and brewing and boiling and tearing me up inside.
I just wanna tear my skin off and scream and smack it against a wall and stomp on it and slash it with knives and stab it and just cry all my million fucked up hearts out. But I can't release it cause it's so much it would shatter me. It is overwhelming, it is far too overwhelming. I can't carry its weight. It's crushing me. And psychiatry leaves me to my own vices WITH THIS!!!?? Yeah, fucking thanks. I don't care if it's controversal. I'm a real person, not statistics, and I'm in need of some real help, not a pat on my shoulder. Who, within psychiatry, even could help me? What sort of expert? I don't know where to turn. I'm just so sad and hurting I literally can't function.
I feel like detransition was the worst thing that ever could happen to me. I was right about fearing it in my transition. I was right about it destroying me. Cause here I am, literally living my own worst nightmare. And I'm trapped within it. I can't go back. To either how I was pre-transition or as a semi-happy trans man. It's all too late for both of those now. I just love being a woman way too much now. But I hate this situation. And I hate my huge loss of control in all of it. It feels like I'm just falling down a hill and all I can say is just "ouch ouch ouch" on my way down. But I don't see a bottom of the hill and I'm getting both really broken and dizzy. How far did I fucking climb?!
I don't even know what's going on with all of my feelings. How can I...? I don't even understand just what the fuck happened since I first began to detrans. How am I a woman?! It's weird! Like.. is this my life now? Yeah, transitioning was most definitely "life changing" alright. It's a little hard on me. I just keep ranting, I'm not getting anywhere... Let's get back to what I was saying before.
The topic of the post on Susan's that I replied to was "What do you see when you look in the mirror?" and this is what I answered to that question:
"I see my past mistakes of transitioning, self-inflicted pain, a lot of regret. I grunt at what to me looks like a man with feminine eyebrows, face stubble, a hairy chest and prosthetic breasts in a bra. I feel weird about it all, and sad...
Staring at my face I wonder how I can find my true self again by hiding it under makeup, and then I think about the irony in that thought. I used to take my femininity for granted and hate it. Now I love it but can't find it again.
I only partially recognise my own face. It both feels familiar and alien at the same time. But it's still my face, and that in itself is a comfort. It's easier with what's below my neck, except from my chest, cause I do notice that my body shape looks unmistakenly feminine, and that's comforting."
It makes me wonder if I've been trying to escape my dysphoric feelings about my male traits because I also like them a lot. Because liking something apparently is not the same as feeling connected to it.
I've always, always struggled to figure out what is "truly me" or just something I really like. Being bisexual also doesn't help with that at all. Honestly it's doing me a huge disfavour that I don't ever truly know if I'm attracted to a guy or want to look like him, or if I'm attracted to a girl or want to look like her! It's with both genders and I'm just frustrated with never knowing the difference between attraction or wanting to look like someone. I think that has a lot to do with my dissociation, actually. That because it essentially means I'm extremely disconnected to both myself and everyone else around me, and the inanimate world too... it also means that on the rare occasions that I do feel some connections, they're haphazard, whimsical and don't make a lot of sense. Like they're incomplete and not properly developed, somehow. Like a new product launched too soon so it's full of technical flaws. And I can't analyse or understand them properly so I misjudge them. Tech support? I think I need tech support for my brain.
It just suddenly made me think one of my favourite movies... it's called "Vanilla Sky" and is an American remake of a Spanish movie. I love that movie so much. It's everything I could ever want in a movie. And I really resonate with it a whole lot. Especially the mind-glitching and needing some damn tech support for my malfunctioning brain cause my dream has also become a nightmare. And now in my detransition, I feel like I'm dealing with a car crash wreck of a face somehow. In one scene, the main character David talks to his team of surgeons who are trying to find ways to fix his face (from the car crash, he got disfigured) when he says: "It's not about vanity, it's about functioning in society" and that speaks to me as well.
That sometimes I think my masculinity is making me socially dysfunctional cause people can't look beyond it and they act really fucking rude around me. How fun is it to buy groceries when the cashier is deliberately staring at something way off behind me or just into their screen, showing such blatantly obvious discomfort that they're literally doing everything they can to avoid looking at my face? Perhaps I should do what David did in such a situation in the movie: say "Why don't you say that to my face, bitch?" (he said that to a guy, a bartender) and then stare at the person to remind them of how fucking rude they are! Like that's not okay, fuckhead!
Seriously, I don't get that! Whenever I've met people who have very unusual looks, or who do have a face disfiguration, even if it's extreme, it's not difficult for me to just look them in their eyes and act like a normal fucking person. But then people struggle to look ME in the eyes? It fucks with me, on several levels. It feels like ice going down my spine and all I can think in such a moment is "this person must think I look so horrible they can't even stand to look at me" which is not a great feeling!
Whenever I've watched that movie in the past, I always kept thinking it must be horrible to be treated like that by strangers, and I swore to never treat other people that way. And I never have. I've always been polite and treated everyone with the same amount of respect, regardless of what they look like. Well, is my karma broken, or what happened?! I mostly just don't get it. I know I'm not actually ugly or disfigured, but being treated as if I was... it kinda puts a new perspective on things. And it makes me feel things I've never wanted to feel.
My body doesn't feel like my own anymore, but I do love it. When I interact with other people and they don't believe I'm a cis woman, it reminds me of that I don't look like myself anymore and it carves at that disconnect I feel towards my body. I am being misgendered, even when they think I'm a trans woman, and even though I don't wanna think of it as misgendering. Cause it takes me back to how I felt in my early transition not passing as a guy yet... like I'm literally back to square one again after a decade of transitioning. Fuck it hurts, man. It feels like I'm trying to navigate my life with someone else's body. It's scary, it's lonely. It makes me scared to form new relationships and connect with other people. Cause I don't feel like myself and I don't think others can see me.
Well shit I thought I had healed away all of my dysphoria but it appears I have not. I'm still dysphoric about my male traits, although I also love them. I thought that just showing myself in public with those traits would be a good way to get comfortable with having them and for a while it did work, or I thought it did, but on second thought that might be why I now feel worse about them instead. Think I'm going back to shaving my face for a while, and obsessively hiding my beard shadow with makeup again. If I'll wear a deep neck shirt I'll also shave my chest again. I hate this. I hate my fucked up situation. I hate that I gave myself dysphoria by transitioning and all the complicated feelings that come along with it.
Yeah, my maleness is my favourite vacation spot. Like a beautiful lake house with wild growing trees surrounding it. It has protected me, it's kept me safe from my internal fears about being a woman, it let me breathe, it gave me hope, and I love it as a very dear friend and life companion. But I miss my home. I miss it so much. But I know that if I leave my vacation spot I can never go back to it, because the only way I can go back home is to erase my vacation spot. I can't do that. I need my missing femaleness back, real bad, but not at the cost of my maleness. Why does my reality have to be this cruel?
Is it better... to let my body get more feminised again as I just let time pass without the testosterone in my body, even if I panic and miss the things that reverse back. And try to at least... just consider hair removal at some point. I'm so scared to let go of what I love... but I think I have to, cause it's not good for me no matter how much I love it. And I do miss the way my body used to be, so it is possible I'll get more connected to it once the panic goes down again and I get more used to my body changing again.
This suddenly became a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. I thought detransition would mean I'd just automatically want to look totally female again and not like any of my male traits anymore. But apparently it's much more complicated than that. And I might have to force myself to let go of my male traits, at some point, probably including my beard, if they really do make me feel worse... no matter how much I love them.
I've gotten a bit better sleep pattern, managed to remember taking my meds for the past few days, and also managed to fix up my diet slightly. My diet had gotten so bad it took a toll on my digestive system with intense stomach pains and constipation, so I had to do something. High fiber toasts instead of muffins, was the only solution I could physically manage, and barely even that. That seems to be helping a lot though, so that's good.
Emotionally I'm pretty much still as messy though. I don't feel connected to my emotions and feel constantly weighed down by them. Like a dull, pounding sadness and built up frustration constantly brewing in the background. It keeps me tense and on edge.
I wrote a reply to a post at Susan's Place that I think really captures how I feel about my body but specifically my face these days. Like I've noticed I do feel a quite strong disconnect to how I look which is probably something like gender dysphoria. I struggle to make sense of the feeling, but it's not like I reject the traits I feel dysphoric about, I just can't connect to them and it's more of a "shut off" feeling.
Like this metaphor I made, I think really illustrated how that feeling presents itself within myself:
"It feels more like a self-loving disconnect like I'm patiently waiting for my body to pick up the phone on the other end but all I get is a "the number you're calling is currently unavailable" and I just keep calling and leaving sweet, caring voice mail messages. Please call back soon, I need you. And it feels like a sad sigh of "oh what have I done to myself" without really wanting to dig into the true depth of that feeling, so it stays at a barely managable surface level."
It's like a haunting feeling of wondering if my body is really alright, like trying to get a hold of a friend who you know is suffering but they never answer your calls. And like you really care about them and love them, and you're getting desperate like "pleeeaase call back, I care about you so much, I just wanna hear your voice" but they never do, and it worries you, but also you know they're still alive and all.
But it's also that feeling like I betrayed myself and am sorry towards myself. Like I really hurt myself and I feel so bad about it. That's what I regret the most. That I hurt myself by transitioning.
It's an eerily haunting feeling, and very heavy. Like my body doesn't wanna respond cause it's upset with me and the changes I've done to it. I'm so sorry and I just wanna help making it better, but I don't know how and my options are limited. I'm scared to hurt you more, again. This "new" (yeah old) dysphoric feeling is regards to my changes from testosterone. And I've noticed I actually feel similarly towards them as I do towards my chest: grief, and regret. I feel very conflicted about my hairiness, face shape changes, obviously my facial hair, hairline and little conflicted about my voice. Cause I do feel like those things made me "less me" like they changed my looks in a way that makes me feel disconnected to myself, cause it's not what I naturally had, it's not something I truly ever wanted (just thought I did), but it was a mistake that I came to love.
Do you remember that metaphor I once made about feeling like my femaleness is like my home that I'm missing terribly, and my maleness is like a beautiful and amazing vacation? Keep that in mind for a moment:
Essentially I'm torn between if I should reverse the changes or try to make amends with them. Cause what feeling often comes along with regret? The fear of making more regrets, no matter which way you go. I am scared to make any more permanent changes to my body due to what I personally think is dysphoria, cause I've been wrong before and it had devastating consequences. So like, me trying to reconcile and make amends with my facial hair, deep voice, etc and having decided to keep those things doesn't mean I have no issues with them.
I can't connect them to my female gender, but I also don't have the heart to reverse of them, cause my heart is torn between my vacation and my home.
I feel like that about my body. Both missing how it was originally and not wanting to reverse it cause I also love how it became. I'm both dysphoric and satisfied with it at the same time and that's a very tough mix of feelings to deal with. Cause I'm clearly not dealing with it. Like I just dunno what to do about it. I feel at a loss with it. It's an intense inner struggle of self-love and disconnect, trying to connect but not getting an answer, feeling betrayed by myself and grieving my lost original beauty. Just because I once had it but now it's gone.
Perhaps I was too quick on saying I've "integrated my male and female sides" cause this doesn't feel integrated at all. Perhaps I've missed a piece of that puzzle and became disintegrated again. And also I feel much more feminine and female than I first gave myself credit for. Or rather I "backtracked" a little bit into my detransing when I started thinking I was more androgynous than I really think I am. Truth is I don't know how much of my androgyny is genuine or "learned" from my upbringing. But I do truly feel like I need to be really female to feel right and connected to my body, although I'm not sure what that means. What's "female enough" for me? How much more female do I need to be? Is there a limit of what would be "too female" for my liking, and in that case what's that?
Boobs and pussy, hell yeah. Thin waist and wide hips too. And smoothness does feel like something I need a bit more of but I don't know how much, and voice wise I really don't know. All my gut and heart is telling me is that I need for my body to be "unmistakenly female" like no one would ever doubt I'm a woman unless they're blind. Like... give me back my passing privilege! I don't think I truly feel like my male traits are "me" in that deep sense of self kind of way, but rather that I just really like them and would panic if I lost them. I wear them like precious jewellery I refuse to take off, but I don't wear them like my actual skin or parts of myself.
I know they technically ARE parts of my actual body, and that's exactly why I struggle with them so bad, cause in my mind I don't connect to them as parts of my actual self, but like additions to my actual self. Like they're part of my style that I really really love, but I want to be able to take off my style and be naked without my male traits. But I can't. I can't take them off and then put them back on again. I don't feel like I'm naked enough when I'm actually naked because of my male traits. Like I really like my black lacey skirts and my wine red lipstick, but I would get really scared and panicky if I one day couldn't take them off anymore.
And I think I've figured out that I feel like that about my male traits. Them being permanent on my body scares and haunts me, but I don't want to lose them forever. It's especially hard when I meet people that I don't want for to see me with stubble, don't want for them to know I grow hair there, and I can't hide it well enough. Just try to imagine having sex with a full face of makeup to cover it up and being so damn worried it'll rub off on the sheets or on my partner that I can't even relax and enjoy myself properly. And forget about them staying the night cause they'd rub up against my damn sandpaper rough stubbly face in the next morning.
I don't wanna have to deal with that. For god knows how long. I can't connect it to my womanhood, I just can't. It's just way too manly. And it makes me feel so awkward and weird and uncomfortable about it. Cause like 99% of people do connect beards to men and not to women. Except from dicks, beards are kinda considered the most male body trait possible. Others don't see me as a real woman with it, and I can't blame them. Cause neither can I. My feelings just keep screaming that at me, and I can't comfort them.
I still need those traits as a temporary addition, but that I can't possibly have. Being stuck with the only two options of either keeping them forever on me or removing them to never be able to have them again... fills me with an existential crisis like no fucking other. Because both those options are wrong for me, probably equally wrong even, and I can't think of any way I could possibly solve that situation.
It makes me wanna cry. It makes me feel inconsolable sadness. Like it's just too painful. I love the way I look now, but I feel a terrible disconnect to it cause it's not how I see myself. Oh what should I do?
I think this might be a period of conflicting feelings that eventually will lead to me realising I'm holding onto the silver lining of a damaged past and not truly going for what I actually need for myself. I think I will eventually come to a point where I'll realise I simply have to let go of my male traits. Cause no matter how good they were for me in the past, they're harmful for me now. I'm just refusing to accept that. It's not my femaleness that is dead or dying... it's my maleness. And I refuse to bury it. Still holding on to its lifeless body. I can't move on... unless I let go of him.
But I need more time. And some fucking useful therapy! How much longer do I need to wait for that!? And who the HELL am I even supposed to talk to about these detrans feelings? I'm spinning in circles, I'm biting my own tail, I'm fucking trapped in my misery and it's just getting worse. And my therapist doesn't get it and I can't convey it, what the hell am I supposed to do?! I'm getting desperate! I'm figuratively biting myself bloody over this. I'm so tired. I can't get anything done. I haven't managed to clean any dirty dishes or get any laundry done for months. Fucking months!!! I just keep buying new clothes, but I can't keep up with that anymore either and I'm running out of clean underwear... I keep eating on dirty plates and drinking from dirty cups. I've drank coffee from the same dirty cup that I haven't cleaned for like... a month?! It's insane! I can't do anything except from sitting on my ass by my computer and going to "therapy" that is utterly unhelpful just hoping it will get helpful soon while I'm fucking withering away in my own filth!
It doesn't bother me on a personal level, like it doesn't gross me out, but I need to be clean in public and if I can't do laundry I will stink. And I can't perfume my fucking underwear, my pussy would hate me for it. Well this entry is becoming a really whiny book on its own... but I'm just so desperate now. And really feeling like I'm just losing it. Like I've gotten lost in my grief and there's just nothing else. I can't zoom out cause it keeps pulling me down. I can't think about anything else, I can't feel anything else, it's suffocating me, day, night, every hour every minute every fucking second even. It exhausts me. Even in conversations with other people all that's on my mind is "grief grief boobs detrans detrans grief detrans hormones boobs detrans grief grief detrans" and I can't even hear what others say when it's not about that. I've gotten so absorbed in it cause I can't process it properly. It just keeps churning and brewing and boiling and tearing me up inside.
I just wanna tear my skin off and scream and smack it against a wall and stomp on it and slash it with knives and stab it and just cry all my million fucked up hearts out. But I can't release it cause it's so much it would shatter me. It is overwhelming, it is far too overwhelming. I can't carry its weight. It's crushing me. And psychiatry leaves me to my own vices WITH THIS!!!?? Yeah, fucking thanks. I don't care if it's controversal. I'm a real person, not statistics, and I'm in need of some real help, not a pat on my shoulder. Who, within psychiatry, even could help me? What sort of expert? I don't know where to turn. I'm just so sad and hurting I literally can't function.
I feel like detransition was the worst thing that ever could happen to me. I was right about fearing it in my transition. I was right about it destroying me. Cause here I am, literally living my own worst nightmare. And I'm trapped within it. I can't go back. To either how I was pre-transition or as a semi-happy trans man. It's all too late for both of those now. I just love being a woman way too much now. But I hate this situation. And I hate my huge loss of control in all of it. It feels like I'm just falling down a hill and all I can say is just "ouch ouch ouch" on my way down. But I don't see a bottom of the hill and I'm getting both really broken and dizzy. How far did I fucking climb?!
I don't even know what's going on with all of my feelings. How can I...? I don't even understand just what the fuck happened since I first began to detrans. How am I a woman?! It's weird! Like.. is this my life now? Yeah, transitioning was most definitely "life changing" alright. It's a little hard on me. I just keep ranting, I'm not getting anywhere... Let's get back to what I was saying before.
The topic of the post on Susan's that I replied to was "What do you see when you look in the mirror?" and this is what I answered to that question:
"I see my past mistakes of transitioning, self-inflicted pain, a lot of regret. I grunt at what to me looks like a man with feminine eyebrows, face stubble, a hairy chest and prosthetic breasts in a bra. I feel weird about it all, and sad...
Staring at my face I wonder how I can find my true self again by hiding it under makeup, and then I think about the irony in that thought. I used to take my femininity for granted and hate it. Now I love it but can't find it again.
I only partially recognise my own face. It both feels familiar and alien at the same time. But it's still my face, and that in itself is a comfort. It's easier with what's below my neck, except from my chest, cause I do notice that my body shape looks unmistakenly feminine, and that's comforting."
It makes me wonder if I've been trying to escape my dysphoric feelings about my male traits because I also like them a lot. Because liking something apparently is not the same as feeling connected to it.
I've always, always struggled to figure out what is "truly me" or just something I really like. Being bisexual also doesn't help with that at all. Honestly it's doing me a huge disfavour that I don't ever truly know if I'm attracted to a guy or want to look like him, or if I'm attracted to a girl or want to look like her! It's with both genders and I'm just frustrated with never knowing the difference between attraction or wanting to look like someone. I think that has a lot to do with my dissociation, actually. That because it essentially means I'm extremely disconnected to both myself and everyone else around me, and the inanimate world too... it also means that on the rare occasions that I do feel some connections, they're haphazard, whimsical and don't make a lot of sense. Like they're incomplete and not properly developed, somehow. Like a new product launched too soon so it's full of technical flaws. And I can't analyse or understand them properly so I misjudge them. Tech support? I think I need tech support for my brain.
It just suddenly made me think one of my favourite movies... it's called "Vanilla Sky" and is an American remake of a Spanish movie. I love that movie so much. It's everything I could ever want in a movie. And I really resonate with it a whole lot. Especially the mind-glitching and needing some damn tech support for my malfunctioning brain cause my dream has also become a nightmare. And now in my detransition, I feel like I'm dealing with a car crash wreck of a face somehow. In one scene, the main character David talks to his team of surgeons who are trying to find ways to fix his face (from the car crash, he got disfigured) when he says: "It's not about vanity, it's about functioning in society" and that speaks to me as well.
That sometimes I think my masculinity is making me socially dysfunctional cause people can't look beyond it and they act really fucking rude around me. How fun is it to buy groceries when the cashier is deliberately staring at something way off behind me or just into their screen, showing such blatantly obvious discomfort that they're literally doing everything they can to avoid looking at my face? Perhaps I should do what David did in such a situation in the movie: say "Why don't you say that to my face, bitch?" (he said that to a guy, a bartender) and then stare at the person to remind them of how fucking rude they are! Like that's not okay, fuckhead!
Seriously, I don't get that! Whenever I've met people who have very unusual looks, or who do have a face disfiguration, even if it's extreme, it's not difficult for me to just look them in their eyes and act like a normal fucking person. But then people struggle to look ME in the eyes? It fucks with me, on several levels. It feels like ice going down my spine and all I can think in such a moment is "this person must think I look so horrible they can't even stand to look at me" which is not a great feeling!
Whenever I've watched that movie in the past, I always kept thinking it must be horrible to be treated like that by strangers, and I swore to never treat other people that way. And I never have. I've always been polite and treated everyone with the same amount of respect, regardless of what they look like. Well, is my karma broken, or what happened?! I mostly just don't get it. I know I'm not actually ugly or disfigured, but being treated as if I was... it kinda puts a new perspective on things. And it makes me feel things I've never wanted to feel.
My body doesn't feel like my own anymore, but I do love it. When I interact with other people and they don't believe I'm a cis woman, it reminds me of that I don't look like myself anymore and it carves at that disconnect I feel towards my body. I am being misgendered, even when they think I'm a trans woman, and even though I don't wanna think of it as misgendering. Cause it takes me back to how I felt in my early transition not passing as a guy yet... like I'm literally back to square one again after a decade of transitioning. Fuck it hurts, man. It feels like I'm trying to navigate my life with someone else's body. It's scary, it's lonely. It makes me scared to form new relationships and connect with other people. Cause I don't feel like myself and I don't think others can see me.
Well shit I thought I had healed away all of my dysphoria but it appears I have not. I'm still dysphoric about my male traits, although I also love them. I thought that just showing myself in public with those traits would be a good way to get comfortable with having them and for a while it did work, or I thought it did, but on second thought that might be why I now feel worse about them instead. Think I'm going back to shaving my face for a while, and obsessively hiding my beard shadow with makeup again. If I'll wear a deep neck shirt I'll also shave my chest again. I hate this. I hate my fucked up situation. I hate that I gave myself dysphoria by transitioning and all the complicated feelings that come along with it.
Yeah, my maleness is my favourite vacation spot. Like a beautiful lake house with wild growing trees surrounding it. It has protected me, it's kept me safe from my internal fears about being a woman, it let me breathe, it gave me hope, and I love it as a very dear friend and life companion. But I miss my home. I miss it so much. But I know that if I leave my vacation spot I can never go back to it, because the only way I can go back home is to erase my vacation spot. I can't do that. I need my missing femaleness back, real bad, but not at the cost of my maleness. Why does my reality have to be this cruel?
Is it better... to let my body get more feminised again as I just let time pass without the testosterone in my body, even if I panic and miss the things that reverse back. And try to at least... just consider hair removal at some point. I'm so scared to let go of what I love... but I think I have to, cause it's not good for me no matter how much I love it. And I do miss the way my body used to be, so it is possible I'll get more connected to it once the panic goes down again and I get more used to my body changing again.
This suddenly became a lot harder than I ever thought it would be. I thought detransition would mean I'd just automatically want to look totally female again and not like any of my male traits anymore. But apparently it's much more complicated than that. And I might have to force myself to let go of my male traits, at some point, probably including my beard, if they really do make me feel worse... no matter how much I love them.
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