Self analysis

What makes me tick? What do I think about, when I am alone? What do I think about when I am around other people? Do I think?

Well, anyone that looks deep into their own soul knows before too long that the Human Being is a very complex creature. One can be many things to many people, often all at once. How does that apply to me and this blog? I think it's safe to answer that by explaining that this blog is mostly a means for me to voice things that cannot be said any other way, sometimes with the hope that others may be able to provide insight into the "why". I don't expect a barrage of commentary from people I know (or don't know), but it would be reassuring to know that someone is paying attention, that I'm not just screaming into the night with nobody listening.

So. The opening questions... Hrm. Where to begin?

For newcomers to this blog, I am a woman trapped in a man's body. I've felt like I was born with all the wrong equipment since I was little, somewhere between five and eight years of age. As a teenager, I felt horribly wronged because my sisters developed breasts and started their periods while I did not. Yes, I know about the pains and troubles associated with monthlies, and I'd accept them in a heartbeat if I could.

Every morning, I am reminded of the disparity afforded me. Bits move that my mind says shouldn't even be there and bits are missing where my mind says there should be something. In dealing with the world, I find myself wishing I could be more like many of the women I see, because in my mind, they have the unattainable: a life as a fully-functioning woman. My heart aches at those moments.

Feeling as I do, I am usually irritated at the assumption of the general public that transgendered people are "gay" or homosexual. Though it may be the case for some, I think that many transgendered people (MtF and FtM) simply yearn to correct what is felt to be a physical deformity, so they can get on with their lives.

I had a discussion once with a therapist. I started seeing her about all this, and stopped after only three sessions. Gas prices were beginning to soar and she was more than an hour's drive from where I live. (Sadly, she was the closest therapist of this sort to me. She's since relocated further away.) In the discussion, we were talking about general things, and I said something about how some people try to justify their actions. She said that she thought that was interesting, but because of the time, we didn't go into that further.

That got me to thinking: was I trying to justify a deeper feeling? was I trying to make myself feel better about some hidden desire by deciding my mind and body were of different genders?

Sexually, I am attracted to women. I don't know why. I've never looked at a man and thought about how "cute" or attractive he was. Any time sexual thoughts involving men enter my mind, the man is somewhat generic, with the concentration on his penis. My body, in these occasions, is completely female, with all the concerns that go with it: I think about getting pregnant, what the baby would be like, I think about how good it feels to have him inside of my vagina... The thought of anal sex is quite the turn-off, no matter what I think of myself.

Honestly, I don't see how the term "homosexual" could apply to me, unless one considered me as a woman in love with a woman. Men, to me, serve the purpose of procreation. After that, I don't see the attraction. Since I can't bear children, I don't have much use for them.

As far as appearances go, I doubt I would be much to look at if I went out in public as a woman, thanks to the years I've had of exposure to testosterone and its fellows. On the bright side of that, many genetic women aren't exactly "super models" either.

As far as my self-esteem goes, it's in the tank, and I'm finally coming to realize just how low it is. For the longest time, I thought that I didn't have (many) self-esteem issues, but like I mentioned before, the more I write, the more I see how wrong I was. I'm a mess, but I don't see much hope of getting out of my situation any time soon.

Since I was little, I've been afraid of the dark. I didn't start to shake that fear until I was in my mid-20s. Lately, my general reaction to the dark is more like "bring it on!"-- I don't care what happens, because I couldn't possibly feel worse than I do now. This, all by itself, makes me think that there is some sort of depression doing on.

I'm basically at the point in my life where I wish I had done things differently in my younger years, that I knew then what I know now. There's no point in thinking that way, but that doesn't help me feel any better. I feel like I'm stuck, and there's nothing I can do about it.

Even if I were able to fulfil my dreams and live as the woman I think I was meant to be, what would change? I don't know. I can't see myself wearing a lot of makeup, though given my appearance, I probably would need some. My style of dress would need to change, even though I am more comfortable in jeans and a tee. (Let's be honest here. How often does one see a woman made-up in jeans and a tee? *I* don't see many women around like that, at least none that are my age.)

There. I've written a good deal, bored you all to tears, and maybe even drove a few of you insane in the process. I think that's enough for one day...