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.

Sweet love and bitter grief

When I was living as a guy, I did feel like there was a certain falsehood about it all. The ghosts of my past kept whispering in my mind, that what if my dysphoria really was all just because of my traumas. I was too scared to find out. And the more time I was on testosterone, and then after my surgery, the more scared I got. Kept brushing my doubts under the carpet. And I almost panicked every time the words "detransition" and "regret" ever popped up. I had to push it away and not think about it. When I didn't think about it, being a guy felt good. Like it was empowering and relieving.

But I was running away. My fears of possibly having made a mistake got stronger within myself the more time went on. The more forcibly I pushed them away. Furiously. Eventually I just couldn't anymore. When Anna showed me her dysphoria and I felt it as though it was my own, I panicked and I knew. I knew I couldn't hide from my fears anymore. I don't miss living like that, but I miss not knowing. Truth hurts. Oh I wish I had figured it out much sooner. Before I had started self-medicating with testo. But I was so young and it was way too soon after the traumas. Even if I could go back in time there wasn't enough time back then. I was too suicidal and too fragile. Even if I had managed to figure it out at age 19-21, I likely wouldn't have been able to heal from that mess of trauma feelings and it likely would have driven me to suicide... instead of transition and detransition.

It allowed me to live and figure it out and heal at a time I could handle it. But at what price? At what fucking price?! It feels so cruel. If only the treatment for gender dysphoria wasn't so permanent. It feels like having gotten a leg amputated cause it "was the best thing to do at the time" but then a decade later realising I could have saved that leg. I feel like transitioning was like having a healthy limb amputated, then missing it, wanting it back, and knowing I could have bloody kept it. Well... technically that's exactly what happened, with my top surgery. Imagine if I had known back then, but still had to make the decision to change my body, knowing I wouldn't survive otherwise? Then it was better I didn't know. I feel like transitioning did save me but it also ruined me in the process. Like a slow-killing poison that heals you from instant death. Yeah, exactly like that. The treatment that saved my life made me ill.

I do like my changes from the testo, I do but... I still wish I hadn't started taking it. Cause it made everything so complicated and painful and I'm gonna struggle a lot to live with this permanently androgynous body. I don't want to change it back, cause now I've fallen in love with it, but I hate being in this position. Of loving my body's masculinity because I got a taste of its sweetness, but being seen as a freak because of loving it. Sometimes, these past few days, I wish to go back on testo. I don't wanna lose my hairiness and I'm starting to fear it going away. I still hold on to being a woman, its comforting embrace, and I love my female gender, but I can't help that I also love what testo gave me. And wanting it to stay. Did I go off it too soon? Was it a rash decision? I need to give myself more time off from it, perhaps the panic won't last.

I still feel the same about my chest, or possibly worse. Cause it was a while ago that I cried and let it all out, and the tensions and grief have been building up again since. I feel like my tensions are worse than ever. I literally sit with my shoulders up to my ears and I don't even notice it for hours. When I notice it I make the effort to relax. But my tensions are a ping-pong effect: when I relax one area another one tenses, when I relax that area the first one tenses again. And it's like that all over my body. I'm never fully physically relaxed. That is a state I simply cannot reach anymore, except from right after my boob cry. Perhaps I need to try to let it out like that again. It collects so quickly.

I feel an aching restlessness crawling around within me like maggots spreading around a volatile poison. One of my family's most loved cats died a few days ago. I really loved that cat, and it was my mother's favourite. They were very close. I don't have it in my head how old the cat was, but around 15 years, I think. Her name was Nemi, like the Norwegian comic series character, that goofy goth girl with a best friend called Cyan. The cat was a dark calico, almost black with with some brown/orange spots and she always had one or two white whiskers while the other whiskers were black. She had a combination of black and pink paw "beans", a very slender and small body type but noticably overweight. Big, intense, bright yellow eyes. One of her ears was messed up from ear lice and she looked really adorkable with just one ear up. She was often either asleep in my mom's lap, begging for candy or sprinting around super energetic, and a total attention whore. She was born with my family, and her cat mother is still around and alive with my parents. I can't grieve this now. I have to bottle it. Too much. As soon as my mother told me the news my only emotional reaction was "no not more grief" and I just had to push away those feelings. There's no space for them. But it's still tearing at me, like claws scratching on my back and it leaves wounds that bleed.

I don't wanna talk about the cat or what I feel about her death. I refuse to look into those feelings anytime soon. My chest grief is suffocating me already, anything more and I would be breathing tears. But I don't feel the same about my testo changes as I do about my chest. And since I fully accepted my testo changes, I've begun to connect to them in a way that's very similar to how I used to feel about them as a man. I just love them the same as a woman. I don't know why, I just love them. My body hair and beard feels like a comforting blanket of fur. I wish there was a way to preserve it without taking testosterone, cause I don't want my psychological changes to go back to that, and I don't wanna stink pungent again either. I'm probably gonna stop taking the testo-blockers though. No harm no foul with that. Just so that I can slow down the reversing a bit. That might be enough to calm me down about my fur. Also I'm on a very low dose of them so probably don't need to wean off them first.

Somehow I take some strange kind of pride in being a hairy woman. Like a cute female werewolf. I really wouldn't mind having hairy boobs. I think that would be adorable, and incredibly cosy. Yeah I saw some pics of hairy boobs online and it got me in awe... Body hair is amazing. I just feel that and I can't lie. I find it sexy on other women, and I love it on myself. It reminds me of cats, I think. Cause they're very cute and also very hairy, and cuddly. Perhaps hairy women remind me of cats. I dream about cuddling another hairy woman and how sweet and sexy that would be. That'll be great for a new fantasy! Smoothness is so overrated, and so last century! Shouldn't the shaving craze be ending soon, huh? Just let women be hairy, for fuck's sake. God damn beauty standards... Well it would be enough to just cuddle another woman and her loving my hairiness. Cause I do know I'm exceptionally hairy for a woman.

There's also another reason I don't shave much anymore (except from my head and pussy): it reduces my sensation in the area when it's shaven. Like the sensation on my skin is a lot more dulled when shaved compared to unshaven. And I like being able to feel my own touch, even when it's just me rubbing my lower legs together or scratching my stomach. So I also feel much better physically to not shave my body.

I totally love being a woman, but for whatever reason I just totally also love having a testo-spiced female body. You remember that "candy and liquor" metaphor I made a while ago? Well, get ready for cherry rum chocolate pralines! I'm the kind of candy that gets you tipsy, cause this punch has been spiked! Well thinking about that made me feel better. I really do love my body, and it's good I can remind myself of that sometimes, despite the pain of how I ended up with it. It makes the pain more bearable. It's strange to feel that bitterness of grief and that sweetness of love at the same time. It's like the detrans coin with one dark and one light side is spinning so fast it looks like a grey ball.

I'm so tired I think I'll go to sleep soon. And cuddle with my own body in bed. It feels extra good after orgasm to just hold and stroke myself. My orgasms are so good these days, it makes me want them more and look forward to them. I don't know how but they're actually much stronger and longer lasting on estrogen than they were on testosterone. And way easier to manage multiples. My orgasms are extra feel-good and comforting. They like... vibrate all my parts back into place again. I really do believe orgasms have some kind of healing properties. I wonder if that's the real reason why females can orgasm, cause it's not actually an important part of reproduction like it is for males. But maybe females orgasm as a way to heal themselves, like why cats are purring? I dunno maybe that just sounds super weird and I'm way too tired and really fucking gay but damn I think that's a very cute and sexy theory. Like I'd totally wanna help giving some sexy girl lots of healing orgasms, if you know what I mean... ugh I'm hopeless...ly single.

By the way, just gotta share a really hot lesbian fantasy I had last... yesterday. It was so good I just kept fantasising about cuddling with her after I had orgasmed. I magined I was with a quite heavy, very butch woman who hit on me at a night club. She had short, dark brown hair and wore black baggy pants and baggy black jacket, wore no makeup, but she had golden earrings. She brought me into the bathroom (a large single stall one, that I remember from in actual night club in real life) and had me sit on the toilet lid where she touched and fingered me until I got really wet. Then she fucked me with a strapon. She had really big boobs that she had hidden under her baggy clothes and was insecure about, but let them out when she noticed I was really excited and into her. And they were just really sexy, big and hanging so I just cuddled up into them and kissed them and just buried my face in them as she fucked me. She orgasmed from me kissing her boobs and her rubbing her clit against mine. Then she kissed and embraced me as I orgasmed. Then afterwards we went out to the dancefloor and hugged and kissed in a slow dance and she told me she was very surprised that I liked her boobs.

It was a very sweet fantasy. I dunno but since I was at that lgbt group last time and totally got super blushy over TWO hot butch women there I kiiinda realised I totally have a thing for that. So erhm it sparked my sexual fantasy creativity. The woman in that fantasy looked very different from the irl ones at the lgbt cafe though. Well, thinking about that suddenly got me very horny... no wonder why!

Just one last thing: I'm not sure why I don't feel like talking for these past few days or however long it's been... I just need a bit of distance. I think it was just starting to feel a little suffocating cause too much internet socialising in general and I just need to recharge my batteries. If you'd want to reply to this text that's fine and I'd want to read that, even if I may not feel up for responding right away. But also fine if you don't wanna reply to it. I've read most of the messages you've sent me so far. Just so you know about that. I'm going to bed now and no idea when you'll see this, but I might be asleep this whole day... so yeah.

One year post op

I've noticed that if my shirts and sweaters aren't completely flat at the front I get a nagging feeling that it looks like I have boobs. It's very annoying and I try to flatten it out. It's worst when I sit down a little hunched over, as I almost always sit, because of my posture. So yeah... I still get some kind of dysphoria concerning my chest even though I am post op.

About that, it was my one year anniversary on being post op a couple of weeks ago (March 10th) and I completely forgot taking pictures of my chest and writing an update. So I guess I can just whip something up right now.

So, it's been healing great, although a little slow, since the scars are still very visible on my pale skin, they are mostly pink and a little purple at some places. They're very uneven because of how the stitches were placed, but not very wide. Around a few millimetres, and maybe 5-6 millimetres at the widest.

I do have sensation in my nipples despite not wanting that and choosing an operation technique that should have killed my sensation there. It's a dulled sensation, and I only feel it upon pressure. Otherwise, I have almost full sensation in the whole area, except from directly on the scars.

You can't see any scarring around the nipples, although they are very weird in colour. Darker around and very light in the middle. I have no idea why that is, but it could be because the healing process took much longer in the middle than at the edges.

What more to say about it? Oh yes, the whole area is not as "puffy" as it was right after the operation and the scars are now much softer. Not much has happened though, during the last 4 or 5 months or so. Now I'm just waiting for the scars to get even lighter in time and I might start using zinc paste on them again, as it bleaches scarring in a safe way. Very safe, trust me.

Also, I'm getting all the more hairy on my chest, that for some random reason started just a few months after the operation. I doubt it's actually related though. I have weird hairs growing where my nipples used to be, which is right above the scars. I think it looks kinda weird, haha, so I usually shave that off. But I keep the hair on the middle of my chest that connects with my happy trail and well, yeah. It goes all the way down.

Always when I start talking about my post op result I get into talking about the changes of testosterone too. Is that even interesting, after 1 plus 1,5 years on it? Right now, it's not that much happening anymore, just that I continue to get hairier in surprising places. Including my facial hair, which is slowly filling out more to the cheeks but still hasn't reached my upper lip. No idea why that seems to come last for me, as it seems to come first for most transguys.

Anyway, that should do for an update. I don't want to go on ranting about this forever. I'll probably update about it again if or when I go off testosterone for trying to have a child. But probably not before then.

Not sure I should tell you this...

Transitioning from female to male, for me, it doesn't make me a happy person. But it saved my life. I don't know if I should see transsexualism as an illness, cause I doubt that's the right word for it, but transitioning, for me, is like a treatment for something that was/is wrong with me. Some scientists say that you get it because of something going wrong with your hormones before you're born, so I suppose that in one way or another it's at least biological.

I think it's funny though, that no one really knows why some people are transsexual. I mean, what makes it occur in the first place. I find that interesting. Like nature's little quirks without any reason or rhyme. It's sad though, cause I wish no one would have to be transsexual. Because it can be such an awful experience with dysphoria, society not accepting you, friends and family not accepting you, and it's so hard to just live with it. Because it is.

Now, I can only speak for myself and some of my friends who are in the same situation perhaps, but it is hard. It's hard to live with your own body that you can't even stand looking at half the time and when you finally have a good day then someone comes by and questions your gender and you're down to zero again. It's hard when no clothes fit you and if they do it brings out what you're trying to hide. It's hard feeling like a stranger in your own body.

I don't think I'm actually transsexual in the usual/conventional way, but all the more I just wanna be a regular guy. When I first came out and stopped pretending to be a girl, when I changed my name and pronouns, I took pride in being transgendered. I wanted the world to know my background and the journey that lied ahead of me. But now... I don't know, but I get more stealth every day. I don't wanna be seen as the "woman who became a man" because it hurts.

It hurts to be constantly reminded of what I'm trying to hide. I'm open here, because I need to vent and have a free zone or something, where I can just unleash everything (almost). I've been thinking a lot about it recently, again, me being trans and stuff. And what I should do about it. I'm thinking of undergoing SRS but I'm not sure. It's like... I don't know. I feel like I want it and need it even, but not sure if it's worth the risks. Cause there are always risks about surgery, whatever the kind, and well yeah, it's kind of a sensitive area. You really don't want it to get ruined.

Right now, my emotions and my reasoning clash, they don't fit. Reason whispers no, but emotion screams yes, so which one should I listen to? I've decided to give myself six months to think about it, dwell on it, ponder over it. Besides, I'm not allowed to do it until Rättsliga Rådet gives me their approval and legal gender change. So I'm thinking it will take some time for them to get their heads together and tell me that I'm cleared, and in the meantime I'm gonna think about it.

Then call my surgeon to ask a gazillion questions and learning more about the procedure before I reach my final decision. At least that's my plan. In the meantime, I'm weighing pros and cons and ask myself the same questions over and over until I know how to answer them with both reason and emotion on the same level.

I don't need to hurry it up though, damn I could ponder over it until I'm 90 years old if I want to, it's just that I don't want this hanging over me for 65 more years. If you know what I mean. My main question is: can I live with what I have, or do I need to be complete? Cause that's what it's mostly about, I just wanna be complete. And also I get dysphoria and shit regarding that too.

I don't know how much I wanna talk about this, but... I don't know, sexually it doesn't quite matter as much what I look like. Cause seriously, I'm basically asexual and it's always been hard for me to find pleasure in it. Don't know if it would make it better if I change how things look, could be better, could be worse, I have no idea. But I doubt it could get worse, to be honest, it can't get much worse. I seriously don't know what I like or don't like sexually, I have to re-explore when/if I get a new partner either way.

Dunno if that's the testosterone making things feel differently or if it's because I've never had the chance to actually explore. Cause honestly, most men, especially straight cismen, only want one thing when they're with a person equipped the way I am (and no I don't know how they could be with me and still consider themselves straight, it's not like I am or even look like a girl). There's just no arguing. If I don't like it that way, then I must not like sex at all, right? Well, maybe I fucking don't.

So anyway, what I'm trying to say is that if I choose to go through with SRS, I will have no idea if it could improve my already seriously shitty sex life. But at least then, I would be viewed as an actual guy and not a freak, sadly. NOT why I wanna do it though, cause those kind of people who view me as a freak are just not coming anyway near me and definitely not in under my clothes. Just making that clear. I would never do any kind of surgery to please anyone else but myself. That's just the way it is.

Every day I'm getting a little bit closer to a decision, a little closer to a "yes" and a little further from a "no". So who knows, maybe one day I'll be going in for surgery again. But I'll make damn sure I'm making the right choice before I do so.



*SRS = sexual reassignment surgery (the "sex change" operation, in case you didn't know about the acronym).

What's in my power

I think maybe it's a bit warmer today, cause I went outside wearing my leather coat with only a fish net shirt underneath on my upper body and it wasn't that cold at all. Well, it wasn't that warm and cosy either, but still. Just did it to take some photos. Needed some nice ones with my new haircut. Now everything smells like hairspray though... and I need to get some nice wax for my hair.

Think I'm gonna take the bandage off my horizontal scars soon, cause the wounds have closed up by now. So no need, I mean. I feel so damn restless today. like I wanna run around and exercise and stuff. It's like I actually want to go to the gym, not just thinking I need to. Spring, it does things to you.

Need to heal up for at least another month, possibly even two. I know of other transguys who started working out just a few weeks after their top surgery, but I'd rather be safe than sorry. The nice weather isn't helping.

My hands are shaking for no reason. It's annoying, almost dropping my cigarette in my lap. That's frigging dangerous. And I like my new pants. They're a little too short, but I've completely moved in to them. Black, tight, comfortable, and I look good in them. Well, as good as I can, that is. My major dysphoria is my ass and thighs now. My weight is still a problem, but I'd rather gain muscles now. Priorities. And I'm not fat, not even close, no matter how fat I think I am.

Though I know that I pass very well now, especially with the short hair and all, but I'm always a bit afraid that people would question my gender if they paid too much attention to my body. And I really want to work that ass off, kinda literally. Though I suppose I could do that, carefully, as long as I don't restrain my upper body too much in the process.

But the yeah, bulking up my upper body would be a compensation of sorts. Been on testosterone long enough for it to be fairly easy for me to gain muscles now, so that will hopefully not be a problem, as long as I'm patient enough.

Patience. Now that has started to become a problem as of lately. It's like I've been waiting and waiting and given things so much time it feels like I'm gonna grow grey hair at an early age. It's like all I have is time and I have nothing else to give and I'm getting tired of that. I wish I had some effort to give, or some sort of inner power. Cause I can't help but feeling powerless.

I'm betting with Anna now, which is perhaps kinda weird. About me getting a low level character in WoW to level 10 before I get tired of him. She's betting that I won't, and if she's right I'm gonna go and eat breakfast. If I'm right, I can starve a little longer. Cause we can't really bet on money or anything substantial like that. Took some time to figure something out that can actually be paid in reality. I bet you're all on her side on this, am I right?

Hair

Well okay, it was like a disaster falling asleep and waking up, but I just now remember having nightmares too. In my dream my hair was falling off and I was left with tangled wisps which made me devastated! I seem to be a bit extra vain about my hair these days. Probably because it's getting longer and therefor needs more care. Also that the longer it gets, the more I like my hair. I'm like this ancient god or whatever who’s power was in their hair. It sort of feels a bit like that! The more satisfied I am with my hair, the more satisfied I am with myself, and it isn't so stupid thinking there lies a little power in that, is it? It's finally grown to the minimum length of my requirements, an inch underneath my nipples. It's practical in case I’d be caught bare chested. Silly really, cause that hasn't happened since upper school and I doubt it ever will happen again. I wonder how my hair will look on a flat chest... Anyways, I guess you can understand why that dream I had was a nightmare.

I’ve always had this irrational fear, since I was a kid, that someone would cut my hair when I’m asleep. Mostly at that time it was my sister's intentions I feared. I heard from a classmate at school that happened to, and ever since I’ve had that fear. When I listened to Lady Gaga's song “Hair” that memory came back to me. In it she sings that she feared that her mother would cut her hair at night. She probably had a more reasonable cause than I did, but still.

While we are on the topic of hair, that is sort of my indicator the testosterone I’m taking actually has some effect on me. That and my body odour. My thighs in particular are getting quite fussy, which is really neat, it makes them look less ugly, and I sort of think it gives them a little shading and could give the impression that they're less fat. I also suspect that testosterone has caused some fat redistribution, since I can now wear my leather pants which I couldn't a few weeks ago, even thought I’m on the same weight then as I am right now, 71 kg as of yesterday. I’m still amazed the battery in my scale is still working. It's been around since I bought the scale in autumn 2010, three fucking years! I’m starting to suspect that battery has been effected by some sort of sorcery which gave it eternal life or something! And I would be even more amazed if it suddenly would die.