This is mostly for the benefit of someone on the Eunuch Message Boards, and is probably terrible personal and private. But as I have no shame, and figure it might on the off chance, help, I'm making a journal entry about it. My story, as pertains to transgender issues. If you don't want to read juicy, embarassing, and revealing details about my life, please click next and enjoy not being horrified or disappointed.
Oh, transsexuality... yeah to change sexes would be absolutely wonderful. To experience both sides of things, both roles in life, both taker and giver. I've always been somewhat androgynous, but, well, maybe it's just reacting against my body one way, but I do feel a little on the "other" side gender-wise. Um... yeah... nothing big though. I don't believe in "corrective" surgery or any of that junk. There's no way that our primitive technology of silicone and scalpels could bring my body to who I see myself as, and it's not a bad body I'm currently in at least physically, certain hormone factories excepted. So I'm resigned to live in fantasy as it were, making very sure that I don't go carving my body up in ways that aren't going to help what I feel inside. They say the soul is neither male nor female, and I say that the physical body, at least in this universe, can never quite match the self image. So to try to improve the outside appearance, beyond being exercised and healthy, is foolish at best.
When I was 9 or so, I started noticing the differences between girls and boys. I was smart enough to know the physical differences of course, but I started to lose my friends who were girls, and felt stuck with those who were boys. I would often fantasize, even dream about being female, both for the socializing and comfort I lost, and for that inexplicable 'rightness' it felt to be. Of course I felt that 'rightness' about being small, lithe, 4-legged and scaly (at the time), so I figured it must either be my imminent transformation into a fantasy adventure, or just my mind playing tricks with me. The tricks never really ceased though, and I constantly amaze me with how flexible my self image is, in such a static, unchanging body. I am so completely dysmorphic and mercurial it's not funny. Heck, I'm not even alone in this mind of mine, nor am I a singleton. It's like being a part of a beautiful tapestry that you can never share or preserve beyond the stiff, unyielding shell.
The onset of puberty was slow and late for me, but by age 16 I was stuck doing 'it' every day or so, and honestly disturbed by the growth down there. Just kind of a creepy feeling, having this elephant where you'd expect something more benign. (I'm average size, but the subjective experience is distorted). I stopped feeling comfortable with my body in general too, feeling too tall, too uncoordinated, too male I guess it was. I only wish it was just the "growing pains" of puberty though. Stopped growing around 17 or so, and at age 25 I'm still falling over my own feet. When you fall from 6 feet tall, it hurts a lot more than from 4 feet tall! I fell once and broke my ankle so bad, the doctor said I'll never be able to exercise by running. I mean, being big is just weird, thinking of the dizzying effort it takes to stand up or sit down. What are we, rhinocerouses? Like I said on another forum, "I didn't have a hard time not being tall enough when I was 9--we can climb!"
Plus the compulsions to touch erogenous zones, and the bizarre thoughts that happened in such fleeting ways. Often I would not be at all attracted towards the notion of sex, and as soon as I started suddenly it was what I wanted more than anything else in the world, and when I finished I fell back to square one and once again wasn't interested in sex. It both scared and amazed me how mechanical my thought processes could be, the mere stimulation of a particular body part could literally change my mind.
And often it is even worse... that the things I am attracted to get clouded by impulses, compulsions and fixations, and everything just dissolves into chaos as one part of me seeks it, but not getting simple sexual satisfaction from it, my desire never sated, I get caught in a loop of desire that would make a Bhuddist cry. You can want something so bad that you avoid it, I've learned.
So, outside of the bedroom and erotic stories written in a frenzy of underdeveloped desire, after puberty at least I was myself mostly. Never had even an inkling of a romantic relationship, nor the desire to start one. About the only thing I needed, with slowly increasing strength, was the physical act of sex. My friendships were both dear, and close to me, but for some reason I never could translate that into a sexual experience.
I'm 24 now, and the conflict has gotten pretty bad. An odd thing is after I started having to take Claritin (Lotradine) for my allergies, I seemed to fall into a palpable surge in hormones. Either that or maybe the dehydrating properties of the medicine was making my skin more sensitive. Or maybe just my horrible allergies were temporarily holding back the dam on my twisted sexuality. I don't know what it is. But last November was when I first started delving into some online sexual scenes to satisfy the increasingly erratic compulsions. I mean, it was pretty bad: someone could "/me snugs you" and I'd be interpreting that as a sexual act and getting all hot and bothered. I've never read anything about this relating to Claritin before, but it's the only thing I've changed consistently since last November.
Now, when I speak of online sexual scenes, I'm not talking those 10 minute "A/S/L" scenes people laugh at online. I've got 96K monstrosities of short stories me and other friends have constructed in online scenes. Really nice, well written stuff sometimes. A few jewels I would even consider publishing, if I was the only author. But...
...those are the only stories I have been able to write. My stories about actual stuff, like not just two+ people meeting and having sex, have been blocked for so long it's driving me up the wall. And to make matters worse, I have really, really good um... endurance, often going for hours and even all day just... doing nothing, a nothing that involves imaginary body fluids and touching. I don't mind the touching, but the time spent, and the creative energy, it just...
It made me realize that this was not me, and it was time for a change. So that's my story: my increasing sexual tension has gotten to the point I think it might be a big factor in much of what's messing up my life right now. My hormones don't make me feel good as much as does just having nice friends to talk and snuggle with. I'm tired of having to take it "all the way" of constantly feeling so ambivalent, so needy yet so unable to pursue my nonsexual needs. I'm tired of not being able to cry.
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