hi. i'm 27 and an intp if you're into that sort of thing. i cry a lot over steve rogers and amy dyer and i also reblog a lot of shit. i am a writer. † 16 | 08 | 2011 † 22 | 11 | 2015
okay guys this is really important. i’m coming out
i've been meaning to talk about this on here for a while, a good long while, and i think i've finally gathered up the courage to do it.
for a good long while i have struggled with my gender identity. i remember exactly what triggered it and i know that it happened in november of 2014, but back then i didn't seem to think much of it. and the incident that happened led me to realise that i've never really felt comfortable calling myself a woman or thinking of myself as a woman. i only did it out of habit i guess. but it took that incident and two or three hellish weeks for me to realise and accept that that is not how i feel, that it's not me. i never wanted to be someone's wife and i never wanted to be a mother and i thought that was it, but after that incident i realised i don't want to be a woman at all. it's a terrifying thing to have such a vital part of your identity questioned and shattered and i've been literally depressed about it for months, if not years. i made a new blog where i was going to supposedly talk about my gender crisis and let things off my chest, though i've naturally only used it to cry about captain america and post stupid memes.
the thing is that as time has gone by i have noticed the hints i should have seen sooner. i never could fully relate to female characters on shows or books or movies, it was always a male character i could relate and identify with, and there came a point where i couldn't blame it on bad writing and characterisation anymore. i relate to men. i identify with men. i am intimidated by men because i am envious of how they look and how they conduct themselves. there have been times when i literally have to step away from them to cry because i can't have that, and for years i didn't understand what i was feeling. i knew i was attracted to men but there was something else that i didn't have a name for. it took me this long to understand that what i felt when i saw gay couples on screen or read about them wasn't gross fetishisation like i thought, but a deep, deep longing, and i understand now why i never felt the same with lesbian couples, even when i had girlfriends of my own. it took me this long to understand that the unpleasant thing i felt every time i saw a man with a big beard wasn't just frustration because i couldn't get a boyfriend with one, but that i wanted a fucking beard of my own. it took me 26 years to understand that what i felt when i looked at men wasn't just attraction, but longing. when i thought of the future i had literal anxiety attacks every single time and i didn't realise they had so much to do with not wanting to be an older woman. i just don't want to be one. i don't want to be treated as one. i'm not one.
when i was 21 or 22, my uncle manuel once spent a day with me doing handywork around the house and we had some beer afterwards, and we talked and he told me he felt like he was talking with a guy friend, and i was beyond ecstatic. and back then i thought it was only that he'd consider me a friend, because he meant the world to me and he was like an older brother to me, but later that weekend i told my dad what my uncle had said and he said "i think doing handywork and drinking beer doesn't make you any less of a woman" and the excitement i felt was crushed in a second, and i was down for the rest of the week, and i didn't know why.
when i was 18 and i saw a gynaecologist, he told me that once i got rid of the cysts in my ovaries through diet and weight loss, i'd stop having hairy arms and legs and my body fat would redistribute and my skin would become clear and i'd look like "more of a woman," and i remember crying inconsolably in my bedroom that night when i thought about what he said, because i didn't want that. i didn't want a pinched-in waist and i didn't want to be "more of a woman." but i didn't have the words for it and i didn't have it in me to recognise what i was feeling, i just knew that i hated seeing him and i hated the way he insisted on telling me i needed pills to menstruate and be a normal girl when i was thrilled that i didn't have a period. i wore skirts and eyeliner and painted my nails and put on tight low-cut shirts and tight jeans. now i think i was overcompensating. i think i knew something was off and i didn't want to face it, so i just made myself act and look more feminine to keep that terrifying voice away. but then there came a point where i couldn't do it anymore, i couldn't keep ignoring it. i've felt something about me was "off" ever since i can't remember, and at first i thought it was just my bisexuality, and then i thought it was my mental illness, and then i couldn't keep denying the truth, and i can't put into words how hard it was when i could put a name to it. i'm trans. i'm a trans man.
i got rid of all my skirts and tight shirts, i got rid of high heel shoes i always hated wearing, i got rid of purses and i cut my hair. not as short as i wanted it, i didn't get the undercut i've been dying to get because i fucking hate the shape of my face and my cheeks (way beside the point); i bought men's shirts and men's jackets and suddenly i felt both more comfortable with myself and more disgusted by the shape of my body. it feels wrong. i started wearing sports bras to make my chest flatter, because i hate it. i started wearing looser pants because i hate the shape of my hips and how wide they are. i realised how much i hate my body for reasons that have nothing to do with my weight, like i always thought i did. i have accepted all of this. i admitted to myself that the main reason why i want to leave the country and live elsewhere isn't just to gain independence and have a better life, but because i want to be able to transition away from my family who wouldn't understand this. i don't think even my dad would understand this. i don't think even my friends would understand this, and i'm terrified of being alone, but i want to live my truth. i want to change my name, i want to change the gender on my birth certificate and my id and my passport, i want to start over and do it right for myself. i feel like i owe it to myself after everything i've been through. i'm terrified just posting this and i know many of you won't understand. but i need to be honest. i'm not laura anymore.
i have talked about this in therapy. it's actually the main reason (that and my driving anxiety which hasn't got any better but that's not the point here) i decided to go to therapy. i wanted to know if this thing i feel is because of childhood trauma. my therapist was understanding and patient and helped me see that it's not because of trauma, and it's not going away. during one session, i remembered that when i was four i asked my grandma to push my hair back and take off my earrings so i could "look like a boy" and when she said i couldn't, that i was a girl, i was crushed. i remembered that i was always envious of my male cousins and that i've always envied them because they get to be boys and later they got to be men, and i hated myself for the longest time. i've hated myself since puberty, and now i know why. i repressed all these feelings for most of my life, and they finally caught up with me, and i need to face them.
i have no plans of transitioning soon because my family would reject me and i'm not financially stable enough to live on my own. so far i've only come out to a handful of internet friends and they have been incredibly supportive, but i feel like this is the next step, even though it's taken me two years to get here. what terrifies me the most is losing people i love. i know i will lose my family, i couldn't stand losing my friends.
i know that when i was 15 i wrote a story about a girl who liked girls, and i know that a few weeks into it i realised that i was projecting my own feelings onto it to come to terms with my own bisexuality. three years ago i began to write a story about a guy who struggles with coming to terms with his lifelong disability, at the same time that i was diagnosed with a mental illness. last year, i began to write a story where one of the main characters is a trans man. i think i'm doing the same thing and i think i'm only fully accepting it now. i'm processing all this through my writing, again.
i've chosen a new name for myself and i can't wait to change my id and my birth certificate--but i have to, because of everything i just said. my friend vali was kind enough to buy me a binder, and what i felt when i tried it on and looked in the mirror was indescribable. i wish i could wear it every time i go out so this revulsion i feel whenever someone calls me miss or ma'am would go away, but i can't do it yet. i need to take it one step at a time.
i'm terrified of posting this but i owe it to my friends who have supported me, because i love you and i want to be honest, and i owe it to myself too, because i don't want to keep lying. i don't want to keep hiding myself and being careful of what i say. i already have to hide from an intolerant family. and this is a huge step for me. and i hope you'll understand why i can't say this in person. and i don't want things to change, i'm still the same person (like my therapist said when i started crying hysterically in his office because i felt like my whole world was crumbling around me), but i'm trying to make my peace with the fact that they will. i just hope you can accept me.
Ok but imagine McGonagall in cat form prowling around the castle, in strategically chosen places so that Umbridge will come across her.
Umbridge takes the cat back to her office and feeds it a little saucer of milk. The cat starts coming back to Umbridge’s office around the same time every night, until eventually Umbridge gets into a little routine of setting out a saucer of milk for the cat before bed.
McGonagall now has all the best secrets on Umbridge, all of the results of the evaluations, and most importantly, is in a perfect position to spy on the ministry for the Order of the Phoenix.
There’s such a bad connotation associated with being a single girl. It’s like, for fuck’s sake, I like being single because it gives me time to myself! I’m always around people so it’s nice to have some time to… Okay, this sounds so cheesy, but time to really discover yourself, to get to know you.
#GOd LOOK AT HIM LIKE HONEST TO GOD AFRAID THAT IF HE TOUCHED PAUL REVERE’S LANTERN THE WHOLE WORLD WOULD HAVE CHANGED #LIKE IF HIS DELICATE TENDERONI FINGERS HAD GRAZED THAT METAL THE MIDNIGHT RIDE WOULD HAVE NEVER HAPPENED AND WE’D ALL BE BRITISH#thiS DELICATE DORITO LUMBERJACK WE MUST SWADDLE HIM IN FLANNEL AND PROTECT HIM #DIRECTOR BONG SAID IT AND IT’S TRUE HE’S LIKE BUDDY THE ELF BUT I WANNA FUCK HIM (dont-do-womens-just-raf-simons)
stormborns
pixelskylines
kaledo-art
vaporwave
areudirty
