How Do I Boy?

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Today is a day I have trouble looking at the mirror. I’m too feminine. It made me self conscious at the store, too.

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Some moments I feel like a pervert. Then I feel as though this isn’t real. Then I feel like an idiot.

I wish there was a support available in my area. I don’t know and ftm out here, and there are no resources. I feel alone in this.

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I don't know some days which way is up.

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Looked in the mirror this morning after my shower. Tried to see how my chest would look with my breasts flattened out under a binder. Without a binder, heh. I think I have too much tissue to fit under one and still be flat enough.

Also got hung up on how full my lips are. They’re too full. I know women would kill for full lips, but I have never liked them.

Went to Tuesday coffee group through the mental health clinic. The social worker that chaperones gave me a massive packet of info and resources to look through. It was really nice of her.

I’m also slowly coming to terms with my identity for the past 38 years no longer being what it was. I hate taking time to do things slow, I like diving in. But this seems an important thing to take slow.

I’ve managed to say out loud that I want testosterone. I can admit to it. I have also figured out I don;t want to be super masculine. I’ve lived my life in touch with my feminine side, I can’t turn my back on it. I have some male role models to validate this feeling that I can be a man without being hyper masculine.

Perhaps being a boy won’t be as difficult as I thought.

Mood of the day: “Walk like a man. Walk like a man. Walk like a man...”

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Going to mom’s today to force myself to break away from constant information barrage. It’s getting overwhelming at this point.

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Bought my oats. Bought some yogurt and strawberries, too.

Living as female, I have never been motivated for long to take care of myself. Little bursts, then depression hits, then off the wagon I fall. The idea of living as male has me motivated to finally care. I may not be at the far, 100% male end of the spectrum, but I’m not comfortable just being a masculine woman. At all.

I want a penis. I want the deep voice. I want (and my sister would probably wonder why) a hairy chest and a beard. I want to feel comfortable in my skin, for once, and be able to enjoy it. Much as I might miss the nipple sensation, I would happily give up my breasts. Hell, I’ve wanted a hysterectomy since I was a teen! My ovaries can just die in a fire, please. Little murderous fuckers....

I feel I might not be “trans enough” though. I don’t have a strong dysphoric feeling, aside from absolutely hating my internal reproductive organs and not wanting anyone to touch my crotch. I guess that is something, since I have been avoiding a gyno visit for 3 years. But I don’t hate my chest- I just feel uncomfortable having it on display. I do (and always have, it seems) hate my body shape. But considering I’ve been obscuring it in fat since childhood, that’s kind of understandable.

Apparently a lot of women have this moment where they just /know/ they’re a woman. Womanhood achievement unlocked, I guess. I never got that achievement.

But Tobe is incubating, so maybe he will hatch, and I can get the Manhood Achievement instead. It might fit better.

[howdoiboy-blog]

Tobe Liame is incubating.

I had a bad dream last night. A male figure was standing over my bed as I slept. He kept touching me, and I couldn’t move to make him stop. It was like he was lording his maleness over my weak femaleness, and I woke up feeling very uncomfortable. It took a while to fall back asleep, and I wound up reading for an hour before I finally dozed off.

I rarely remember dreams, and I imagine this one was brought on by so many days spent thinking on my gender identity.

It’s cold this morning. I think I might run to the store for some oatmeal.

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This video describes my thoughts right now SO MUCH!

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F-hrqOiPJaQ

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I survived my therapy session. Now I have to deal with anxiety as I look for a specialist. I’m considering using the UofM’s services.

Also, my boxers I ordered arrived. I ordered a size too big, and I think I would prefer boxer briefs to boxers. But.... SO COMFORTABLE!! Even though they are bunching up a bit in the leg under my pants, and I feel kind of deviant wearing them, I’m glad I bought them. When I go shopping next week, I think I’ll get a proper fitting pair.

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I decided to start exercising a couple days ago, when I first started entertaining the idea of being male. Upper body stuff. I’m so overweight, my legs get a good workout just carrying me from point A to point B. Plus anything other than a walk would be too much for my bad knee, anyway.

I like exercise with goals. And I like exercise that causes muscle aches. Sore muscles means you’ve used them, and they’ll get bigger.

When I lived in my old home, I used to lift weights and do some body weight stuff. I loved it, until a depression swing hit. I liked making my body sore, improving daily, seeing the loose flab tighten up over time. I wanted to be a body builder. But I never pictured the women who made a living out of working out. I always pictured the men, and felt sad it would take a monumental effort to even get half that big.

Even now, just doing my push ups and sit ups, I lament my lack of adequate testosterone, to bulk up fast and large.

I bought a couple weights as well. I shied away from the girly looking ones and got big honking manly ones. I like the aesthetic of things geared for males. Always have. I got them in 10 and 15 pound sizes, since I’m a little weakling right now. Got the Strength Training Anatomy book, as well, so I could see how the exercises work and what they work. My goals are to get up to 100 push ups in a session and 200 sit ups in a session. I was going to start weight lifting as well after the weekend, but I may wait a week and let my arms and core muscles strengthen up a bit more first.

I’m picturing myself how I want to be, with the help of the exercise. It’s not some pretty lady with a flat stomach and killer butt. I see, and have always seen when I picture my ideal, a male form with beautiful sculpted arms, a strong midsection, that crazy V guys can get... legs that are perfect instead of deformed from water retention. I want to look like a magazine cover.

That image is so different, I realize, from what I would picture when I tried to see the ideal female form I wanted so bad to conform to. When I tried to think of myself as a pretty female, I pictured a visible spine, thigh gap, visible ribs. Meanwhile I would binge to make myself look and feel repulsive, then lament I couldn’t be my ideal female form. Then I’d start exercising and stop because I wasn’t doing “girly” exercises. Then I’d diet in some crazy fad way. Then I’d get really weird with food rules, and after dropping 20 pounds the binge would start up again.

This is such a jumbled ramble. I don’t know if anyone would really appreciate my stream of consciousness writing. But these thoughts need writing down so I can sort them.

I want a masculine body to go with my masculine tastes. It never feels right as things are now. I’ve flip flopped between trying to be girly and giving in to masculinity so many times, it’s no wonder I have a hard time figuring out who I am. I thought, maybe I’m just butch. But that never feels right. “Lesbian” doesn’t feel right. Dresses and skirts don’t feel right. Looking down at my boobs in a bra doesn’t feel right. I try them, over and over, thinking “This time it will stick and I can be a proper woman.”

But, maybe trying to be a “proper” man should be the goal. Maybe I’m not just a masculine woman....

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Whenever I look in the mirror, the word “woman” has never come to mind. Nothing comes to mind, except a repulsion. I don’t like the face staring back at me, and I don’t recall a time that I ever did. I was always told it’s because I have low self esteem. And yes, I’ve always felt bad for being overweight. But this issue has existed since I was a toddler. That’s not normal, and I don’t know if a three year old is developed enough to have the same sense of self esteem a teen or adult has.

I really hate that I buzzed my hair. Why do I have these self-rebellious compulsions? I’m glad I’m not choosing to OD on my meds, but seeing my mind try drastic means to get a message to me like this... I really miss having hair. Hair was my last bit of femininity, I feel. It’s gone. I’m just left with my face and some longish stubble. Not feminine, but too round to be masculine. Just... depressed and confused.

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Why A Tumblr

I need a place to spontaneously write down my thoughts, but not leave a huge paper trail. I’m only out to a couple people as far as my questioning goes. I don’t want to tell anyone, really, until I’ve talked to a therapist who can help me add things up.

I know a couple people in the LGBT+ community, one in person, one online, who I can talk to if I need. And I have a standard psychologist and a psychiatrist to help with my mental issues. I’m going to see about getting a gender therapist to talk with, or at least someone with experience if my therapist is under qualified.

Meanwhile, I’m watching videos and reading what I can. I’m currently enjoying a podcast whose hosts are making me smile and feel safe. I’m kind of tossing the info around in my mind as I process it, but it’s so counter to everything I thought I understood about myself.

I’m leaving out a full bio, but I am in my late 30′s and only just started suspecting something’s not quite right with my gender.

[howdoiboy-blog]

I spent nearly all day knitting away my anxiety, and doing some housecleaning as well. I made the decision to start a workout routine again as well, this morning. I miss lifting weights. I’ve always wanted to get muscles- like, not body builder muscles, but definitely bulk up with muscle instead of fat. I’m even trying to cook real food instead of relying on convenience meals or just skipping meals. 

Whatever happens after today, whatever path I go down, it’s time to take care of myself again. I have never liked looking at myself in the mirror, and I always eat far too much to continue looking undesirable. I was right in thinking I used food to punish myself. I was in denial as to why. Yes, there was emotional eating involved. But I am a very large person, girth wise, and you don’t get this big without a damn good (and messed up) reason. I don’t think I wanted to be seen as pretty. I hated wearing frilly dresses, why did I have to be pretty? Why pink and bows and lace?

I remember in high school, the boys and girls were separated during P.E. I remember wanting to go with the boys. But I just went with the girls to find it was an intro to aerobics. Boring. And the instructor was a pervert. I later found out the boys learned about weight lifting and I felt instant resent and jealousy.

My admitting to liking women sexually was kind of a “duh” moment. I’m wondering if this “new” development will end up being another “duh” moment.

I ordered men’s boxers yesterday. I liked how my men’s swim trunks felt, and I needed underwear. They should arrive tomorrow. I’m actually excited, maybe more than I should be. I’ve always just worn ladies underwear.

[howdoiboy-blog]

Where Did the Rug Go?

I thought I was just experiencing depression again. Bouts are common, it’s the joys of bipolar 2. I tried to be pretty again during this bout, thinking it would help dampen the apathy. Wound up ignoring the women’s shirts I bought for the men’s shirts instead. I can’t even stand wearing my bra. I hate the way it pushes my tits up to my chin. That cleavage peaking out of my shirts makes me so hyper aware of my boobs. I tried applying make up but it just never looks right. I have no idea how to use the stuff... such a waste of money.

Then my period hit on top of all that awkwardness. I was in bed for most of two days just thinking, trying to figure out why I was so bummed, On a whim I queued up Ranma 1/2, which I’ve never watched before. Then., after a few episodes, I found myself in the bathroom with my hair buzzed. That hair that got me so many “I love your hair!” comments was on the floor, and I was staring back at the most butch view of myself ever in the bathroom mirror.

Why did I do this? Why do all my attempts at embracing my femininity fail? And then a memory came to me. I was a young me, getting ready for church. I was tired of having to wear dresses every week. I fought, threw a tantrum even, just to be able to wear pants to church. Then other memories came to me. Some of events in my life, some emotional reactions to my body. Then I thought to the people I’ve met in my life who didn’t fit in with how society views gender.

Then I started thinking: “What if I’m not the woman I think I am? What if I’m not just a really butch woman deep down? What if all my attempts to be girly were a lie? Could this be why I never felt like I had an identity? Why I always felt like I couldn’t fit in? Is this why I don’t freaking understand the average woman?”

Cue hyperventilation, intervals of panic, tears, and frantic YouTube searches. My god, what would my parents say? My other relatives? My neighbors? Do I want surgery? How would I pay for surgery? I had already come out gay, wth? Hormones?! Special therapists?! Not to mention the current social climate!

A frantic call to leave a message for my regular therapist later, and I just sobbed. Too much stress and what-ifs. Next day, things are a little calmer. I can analyze things a little better. I came out a lesbian (I hate that word for some reason) not that long ago, and I remember how the process leading up to it felt. And I’m feeling parallels as I question my assigned gender and how I’ve lived for nearly 40 years.

Nearly 40 years of never feeling feminine enough. Wanting a penis, even wishing I could grow one some nights. Disliking using feminine versions of words to describe myself. Hell, I’ve been wearing mostly men’s clothing since junior high! And yet, I always insisted I liked being a woman. I mean, I have girl parts. I’m female. I love having breasts, right? I couldn’t possibly be anything other than a woman... How do I even boy?