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stella40 -> RE: Do People Question Things Too Much? (6/17/2007 11:19:31 PM)
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Last year my godmother in Canada sent me a photo - a black and white photo of a little boy, no more than about four years old, taken in a street in Glasgow. Such a sweet little boy, bright eyes, khaki shorts, sandals, bright smile. But it was a boy I hurt, I despised, hated, and I hated the boy as he grew older and older, until as a man one day coldly, cleanly, clinically, I destroyed this man.
But that little boy was me. And at that time this little boy loved nothing better than to dress up in his mother's clothing, to shuffle round the house in her shoes. Mother accepted it, but father didn't, and my dressing up games came to a stop. But I felt better when I was dressed up, and I couldn't understand why I was no longer allowed to dress up. Moreover I couldn't understand why I felt different. So I felt different.
I played along. But still the questions. Why am I different? Why can't I be like the other boys? And why do I prefer to be with girls? Why do I prefer the games girls play? And why do I understand girls better than boys?
More questions. Why can't I be the boy my mother and father want me to be? Why don't I like looking at myself in a mirror? Why don't I enjoy being a boy? Why can't I be me? And... who am I exactly? Am I a boy, or am I a girl? I come out of the bath, and I think that I am a boy, but a very strange boy.
I have been introspective throughout all of my life. It started with my crossdressing again at the ages of 12 and 13, to my reactions, the reaction of my parents and to those of the child psychiatrist I was taken to see. I was asked why I crossdress. I replied because it made me feel better. Did I masturbate when I crossdressed? No. Did it make me feel different? Yes.
I remember this psychiatrist saying that I might turn into a transvestite but if I did I wouldn't be cured. She suggested that I be encouraged to masturbate to soft porn magazines. And so for some months my parents would buy me Razzle and Playboy and Penthouse and after my homework they would leave me in my room and expect me to have a good wank. It didn't do anything, the crossdressing continued, I had real difficulties writing essays in school (I would get tired real easily), and the questions continued.
What is so unacceptable to people that I want to wear women's clothing and feel better? Why doesn't anyone want to discuss this? Why won't anyone listen to me? Why doesn't anyone accept me for who I really am?
Unlike everyone else my teens were really difficult, I just played along just like John Travolta in Grease, all the time wanting to be Olivia Newton-John's character. I started to avoid people, pretend, I mistrusted people, I had to watch what I said, how I behaved, how I reacted. My 20's were even worse.
Now I could stop being introspective and asking myself questions, and just play along and live with this massive inner conflict, and I did this a lot just for the sake of peace. Nobody wanted to know, nobody was interested, and besides in certain situations it was easier and more convenient just to shut up and stay in male gender role, despite feeling incredibly depressed and at times suicidal.
And yes I have attempted suicide on a few occasions which I might have succeeded had I not been such a failure in the male gender role. I've thrown myself in front of a train which went over a set of points and passed me on the adjacent track. I've tried to hang myself but only managed to tear down a light fitting and flatten a coffee table and twice I took a massive overdose of.. vitamin C tablets and... laxatives, which gave me nothing more than a bad stomach pain and a bottom like an overripe tomato.
Or I could continue asking questions, trying to find answers and learning. But I've spent many years asking the wrong questions, finding the wrong answers and going round in circles. This is one of the key benefits of the Internet today. Transsexuals don't have to live in doubt, and they can find out sooner and quicker and they can make their transitions much much earlier in life. I am one of the last of a generation who are transitioning in their 30's and 40's, and there are those who are now transitioning in their 20's or even starting in their teens. I feel that much of this is down to the Internet.
Eventually I found the right question to ask and the right answer. Why do I feel different about myself than others do? Because you are a female trapped in a male body trying to live as a male. But what about all these people telling me that I'm a man? How do they know? But am I really a female? Do you feel female? Yes I do. But is this enough? Go and get yourself checked out by doctors and make sure. How will they know? They will know. What do I tell them? Tell them the truth. Tell them how you're feeling.
My point here is.... if you're hearing alarm bells and voices in your head then it's probably as well to do some introspective questioning and reflection. You being who you are isn't likely to change, and it's almost impossible for you to change yourself, but sometimes it pays to change the perception you have of yourself.
I don't see anything wrong with being introspective, as long as you ask the right questions for the right reasons. I also talk to myself a lot, and can keep a conversation going with myself for a long time. Sometimes I even argue with myself, and every so often I can even win an argument with myself.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.
Yes I can.
No you can't.
Look just shut up.
You shut up.
You shut up.
Oh okay then. I'll shut up.
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