Today is New Year's Day. Another day, another year, another life. I've recently graduated and have been holding onto my silly consumer electronics job to keep rooted. In this last year I've had a ton of fun making new friends, keeping touch with old professionals, renegotiating relationships and reinviting self responsibility into my life. Now that I am an official adult, degree in hand and several years worth of portfolio material and experience (cough debt cough), I have to put it all together (put myself together) into something cohesive and persuasive in order to get employers to take interest in me. (I swear this isn't a self defeating tumblr-esque blog.)
Meanwhile I've also rekindled my sex drive. Initiating the encounter as an approach to sexual healing, I've gained a partner interested in helping me sort out some stuff. This introduces a host of new material to work through in regards to gender. I've awoken a beast long left asleep for years now, a body I've since lost touch with. I had gotten so used to singledom that for a while there attractive people and sexual urges hardly registered on my radar. (While many of you are shocked and awed, if not horrified at celibacy, I invite you to try being abstinent for an extended period of time. It's actually really refreshing, like fasting or detoxing.) However now that I'm back in the game these new encounters challenge my sexuality and my own identity as a living, breathing sexual being.
For the longest time I had been labeled as somewhat of an asexual due to my impressive self control. Sure I visit the AVEN (Asexual Visibility & Education Network) board regularly to learn new stuff, but I can assure everybody that I am not asexual. I've always had sexual urges (admittedly since an inappropriately young age) but until recently I just hadn't felt like poking the beast. It was a conscious decision based on a mix of romantic frustration and pursuing new interests, moving across the country and perhaps even being bored with sex. I let my libido sleep so that I could concentrate on other areas of my life without having to deal with a vulnerable part of me that is subject to distraction. I've also found that that everybody I've been interested in has been capable of dealing with me either, so to speak.
I know myself well enough now, the uniquely complicated female bodied person that I am, that it would have been a dangerous thing to have played with back then anyway. For every person whose ever wanted to be loved or accepted, but was too weird to feel comfortable about it, they tend to overcompensate in ways that aren't always healthy or productive.
Also when you can predict the sex it isn't really that great anyway. So I think I made the right decision to just play it safe and keep cool.
I've entered this new sexual theme in my life with the confidence that I can finally take care of some of the issues, such as PTSD (Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder). Fortunately I have the time and energy to pursue this healing process at such a young age. However going into this I quickly recognized that it isn't just about PTSD anymore, but also gender.
The first day I felt completely outside of myself, not being able to recognize the emotional origins of the sensations, feeling out of place like a cold oyster at a hot buffet and feeling inadequate under the skin that I had just used to generate such feelings. I didn't feel like myself, but like someone else. It was kind of like watching a porno, and trying to place yourself in the video but still recognizing it is someone else.
The second and third day these feelings were revisited and analyzed. They were revealed to be a weird sort of "autopilot" response that apparently isn't unique to just me, but probably all sexual creatures with a conscience. Whodathunk.
Well that's relieving. At least I'm not a freak. (No offense to the self-identified freaks out there.) It's nice too that over time these experiences have been more personal thanks to good communication and frequent feedback. I've begun to recognize something about myself that I haven't for a long time, a person that I haven't listened to in a long time.
This person, obviously female, obviously feminine, it the echo of a voice I remember throughout teenagehood. She speaks for me during these sessions, confident in her nudity and skillful in her direction. She often perches herself and playfully teases, sometimes mercilessly so. She jokes in childish tones too, reminding me of a former self I used to know.
We haven't spoken in a long time, and it took me a while to get the courage to speak to her, to recognize that she still exists and still has thoughts and feelings and contributes to my overall existence. I remember at one time telling people I shunned my own femininity when I was young, feeling uncomfortable about it and wanting to get rid of all the things that held me back as an ambitious kid. However I never felt uncomfortable about my body, just inadequate in the gender expectations that I wore, that other people placed on me.
Now I sit here with her negotiating the amount of influence she ought to have over me from here on out, inside the bedroom, outside of the bedroom, in my life. Am I to be feminine because I want to, or because other people like it? Am I to be masculine because it feels right, or because I am just uncomfortable with femininity? Is there some compromise I can do without changing the entirety of my life, or my body? How can I still feel like myself without hiding the parts of me that I feel less about? How can I feel less about these parts and still not evoke the wrath of heteronormative society and their preferences of my gender?
Developing under this "therapy" is an interesting side approach to this whole gender therapy business. It is both distracting and complicated, but it takes care of some larger issues that I've been meaning to work out anyway, and it's healthy and mutual and fun. After each "therapy" sessions I come out a little more happy each time. The chemical buzz is definitely working. But I also come out a bit foggy, as if each time I'm unearthing a little more baggage. Fortunately this can be revisited next time. The whole idea is to just work through these issues, in a playful way. At first it was just PTSD stuff, but gender stuff is important too.
Initially I was concerned that I may not be seen for the gender I wish to be, which is to be expected when your body looks the exact opposite of what you want it to be. However I was reassured that I am not approached for my body, but for my personality, and that my body is merely the channel through which stimulation happens. Funny that girl bodies and boy bodies only work in certain distinct ways, yet each and every person is stimulated in completely unique ways, irregardless of sexuality, gender identity, and cultural norms. It takes courage, and patience and practice, for someone to recognize their sexual preferences as different than how societies deem their bodies should work. Same goes for romance I suppose.
Sudden topic change, for the New Year I have a yucky sickness. Mostly just a mild headache and a nasty sore throat, but it's kind of enjoyable to hear the noises I make with my modified voice box. I honestly think I sound like a transman, or at least someone going through puberty for the second time. It's funny and cute and I really enjoy it. In addition there are lots of things I enjoy about male bodies that I wish I could enjoy in myself, but I openly admit that there are lots of things I also enjoy about female bodies that I delight in being able to enjoy for myself.
For example, I love boobies. They're bouncy and soft and wonderful little pillows of joy. In comparison man boobies are less wonderful, although pecs are mighty and I like feeling mighty. Owning tits: soft but annoying when exercising. Owning pecs: winning.
Secondly boy butts are cute in a way that no one quite knows how to describe. They've got just enough plump to make for an adequate seat, or a cushion, yet most have these dimples that just make you want to pinch them. However girl butts are super soft and bouncy and serve as a second set of pillows. Like awesome! But they take a lot of work to keep from sagging. Owning girl butt: meh. Owning boy butt: equally meh. Touching butts: winning. Having butt touched: bestest ever.
Next comes the more subtle things that only trans* people seem to know about. (Kidding!)
Soft skin vs not-so-soft skin. I have a preference for touching soft skin, but I prefer to touch other people so I would definitely opt for the less soft skin and pair off with a nice soft girly skin person.
Sweet smells vs musky smells. This one is hard because our bodies are tuned into pheromones for reproductive reasons, often without our permission. While I really like sweet smells, musky smells make my body react without me. I'm sure with a different body and associated neural connections I might react to smells differently. I still prefer to be the musky-smelling one however.
Facial hair vs peach fuzz. I actually think I prefer owning peach fuzz. Less maintenance, less scratchy scratch. I think it would be fun to experiment with facial hair however. More on this in a later post.
High fat ratio vs high muscle ratio. Hands down I'd rather be the strong athletic one than the soft, squishie, wonderful feeling one. That's just the preferences of my dominant sort of personality though. Spoiler: every dom is unique.
Male vs female genitals. The genital thing is annoying because I'm very certain that I would enjoy either set, and especially both sets. At the same time. Especially.
So here I am thinking about dicks again, and how all I really want is a functional phallus and all the beautiful male privileged that comes with it. I'm still bummed about the fact that even in today's market you still can't get an organic appendage added to your body, yet we've got cyborg arms and eyes and fucking cloned hearts and livers and what not. It bothers me on many levels. However while I speak about achieving the unachievable, I'm even more bummed about the fact that I would have to strip my body of perfectly working parts in order to attach not so perfectly working parts to achieve the look and gender identity of my preference. Now that I have awakened my already perfectly working body it distances and complicates my desires for a not so perfect body. And damn it's such a good body!
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Anatomical update: Since I've begun taking birth control my tits have been perfectly ripe and swollen. It is really hard to run and jump up and down and have a good time when you've got bruise sacks on your chest. Last month I also spotted really bad during ovulation which made a week's worth of menstruation turn into a month's worth of the same seepage. Yuck. Also the pressure I felt on my chest the other month ago has since stopped. I surmise that I have lactose intolerance and that I should stay away from cafeteria food, especially questionable ice cream. Further I have developed a nasty itch which stretches the entirety of my legs. I've ripped open old bug bites (and I got a lot of them over the summer) and similar type scars in addition to bruising myself regularly trying to satiate said itch. The frigid winter has caused my skin to dry and my tendency to being lazy about showering between boring work hours has caused enough issue for me to mandate daily showers and lotion application.
My next visitation to the doctor's office to check in for the initial research study will be in late January. I need to update them on these recent sexual developments in addition to asking their advice about sexuality under the influence of birth control.
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