So if anyone on here actually knows me (I’ve tried to remain fairly anonymous), they may know that im closetted Non-Binary Trans. I feel like I should write something about that. If anyone would like to message me or comment about it, please feel free to. I appreciate hearing other people’s feedback.~
I never ‘felt like a girl’ I never ‘knew I was a girl’, ‘knew I was different’, or whatever. I just felt like me. However, I never felt like a boy either. (I was assigned male at birth). Honestly though, I have no idea what feeling like a boy or feeling like a girl even means. I just feel like me. Why do I need more?
I grew up not knowing the difference between boy or girl. Genuinely didn’t know there was a difference. Some people had boobs. Some people had facial hair. Others didn’t. Big deal right? Well, apparently it is. I didn’t get the memo.
I guess some background info about me may help. My father left when I was 5 because my mother was diagnosed with Cancer. 5 years later, my mother, who I adore, had died. And my Dad? well, I didnt hear from him until my mothers funeral, which he decided was a great place to try and adopt me. Too bad for him though I was already adopted by a mean old witch of a lady and her a pedophile/sex offender of a husband. Over the next six years I was abused, malnourished, sexually assaulted, locked in rooms for weeks at a time, and generally in a bad place.
By the time I turned 16, I still felt like plain ol’ me. I was barely passing high school and was not in a good place mentally. I was finally able to leave home and strike out on my own, however at that time, my gender was really the least of my problems. Especially considering my heart was failing and I was in and out of hospital. Too sick to go to school and too sick to think about my problems. So naturally, I pushed away any notion that there might be something wrong with me mentally and especially that I may be anything other than a cishet man.
Now we flash forward several years, and I’m 21. After 4 years of surgeries and hospital stays, my heart was mended and I was granted a clean bill of health. (Im incredibly thankful for Australia’s health care system and the doctors who spent many hours saving my life, but this is off topic). So with the heart complications out of the way, I decided (after several suicide attempts and complete mental breakdowns) it was time to see somebody about my mental health. After all, no one expected me to be a functioning adult with a failing heart, why should anyone think I can do the same with a failing mental health? I saw a psychiatrist at a clinic that specialised in suicide attempt victims and trauma, and after getting some meds and a lot of therapy, I was finally able to think clearly about my life, look back upon it and realise that actually, there was a lot about my life that felt wrong. Not the least of which was that maybe, I wasn’t actually a man. But did this mean that I’m a girl?
So one day, I decided to bust out my little black dress, put on some makeup and go see my psychiatrist as what I felt was a better, more true, version of myself. to restate, im closetted, so this was a big step for me. My psychiatrist has been amazing through my time of therapy, however when I got there, he compared my outfit to being as offensive as being a terrorist, that’d it would be more approprite if I was to wear a full ape outfit, and various other transmisogynistic things that I’d rather not delve into. Needless to say, I was shocked. I was hurt. I was afraid. I finally got up some courage to be the real me, and I was shot back down and shoved into a box and completely and utterly invalidated by someone who I had come to trust. If this person can’t accept me for who I am, how could I expect anyone else to? Especially not those I love, ‘cause that kind of rejection would probably put me into quite a bad, negative mindset, and I don’t want to risk going back to that.
I left that office, and decided that I had had enough. I’d take off that stupid black dress, let my facial hair grow out and not think of that silly idea of a ‘better me’ and just sit down, shut up, and deal with this masculine body that I was given.
I became, well, not happy, but resigned to the fate of having this body that I wasn’t entirely happy with. After all, its just a meat suit, and I became content. But every now and then, Ill see a trans friend, out and happy, and just feel like dying inside, wishing I could be them. Ill be called ‘he’ and think ‘who? me? thats not me?’. Ill see a pretty girl and wish to god that I could be them. However, afterwards I’d remind myself that I was stuck in this body and no one would accept me if I was out. I could only be loved if I was a man. If I was whatever everyone told me I was.
But now, Im just about 22. And once again, I feel like curling up into a ball, crying my eyes out and not leave my bed again until the feelings go away. But god-dammit. Why can’t I be a girl? Why can’t I be non-binary? Why can’t I wear a dress when I want to? Why the hell am I not allowed to be ME??
The answer is something im still coming to terms with. But I think I am actually allowed to be me. Whatever kind of me I damn well want to be, as long as I’m not hurting anyone, or making anyone feel the way that I’ve been made to feel. I want to be happy too.
I have figured that being non-binary is the closest thing I’d get to being a girl, that way I could present however I want. This led to me being called a cross-dresser and various other things that I didnt particularly like. My close friends have accepted me. But a lot of people havent. And that makes it even harder to want to be girl. Most of the time people just tell me that I should stop being so nieve and grow up and be a man. Or they say that maybe its just cause I was repeatedly abused by men? and now I don’t want to be one. I have no idea why I want to be a girl. But why the hell should that matter? Why should I have to justify myself? If one thing therapy has taught me, is that reasons are helpful, but the reasons don’t matter, its the feelings that we have that matter.
With my trans feelings, all people want are REASONS REASONS REASONS and no one gives a shit that maybe, pretending to be someone I’m not happy with might actually be negatively affecting my mental health. Yet somehow doctors and such dont seem to care that it may be affecting my mental health because I can’t justify it enough to them. Telling me I’m not trans enough to feel this way, that I’m pretty much mocking my trans friends for the struggle they go through because I can’t provide a good enough reason.
This is a struggle for me too. I dont know why I was born into this body. I dont know why I feel this way. I just want to be happy too. If that means that I’m a bit different to most people, why should that matter?
I don’t know if transitioning is right for me, but I dont think being complacent is right either.
To all who have read this far, thankyou. I Don’t know what I wanted to achieve by making this post, but felt like I needed to get this off my mind.
To all my followers and to any one else. Your feelings are valid. Whether you can justify them or understand them or not.
andulkaphoto
turnnoffyourmind
germansingergirl
amandla
areudirty
titsay
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
