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May 19 17 10:48 AM

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A few weeks ago it suddenly hit me. The sharp and clear feeling that said "you are a woman,  it's all over". It lasted for a couple of days. There were some thoughts of "becoming a woman to the world". But mostly just the euphoria and relief of having been liberated from a heavy burden: a newly found excitement for life, a desire to express my emotions and interact with others and a deeply felt confidence that all mental tasks were going to require so much less effort from then on. I cannot really describe it. Lately a hint of those feelings come back to knock at my door from time to time these days, but I'm not sure if I want them in.   

Progressively the feelings were replaced by an avalanche of rumination. Did they fade for themselves or did the rumination slowly erode them? I cannot tell for sure.

At some point I started rehearsing some sort of metaphorical story about the whole thing; old men rule the land from their fortress. It is a letter from them to her, the outlaw who poisons the wells and subverts the order. There is pride in it, but also hints of plight. They mock her for being so arrogant and naive.  Her popularity is just a fad. The people know deep down who best serves their interests. If one day she enters the castle she is going to feel lost and powerless. Its secret gears unknown to her, the layers and layers of meaning accumulated on its walls forever alien to her. Alone, powerless and sad, surrounded by whispers in the dusty corridors, now lifeless and dead. Is that her goal? To destroy an entire culture? All the wisdom that took so much effort to accumulate, all the social practices.
 
Some thoughts thought of the new identity as some sort of puppet, a pathetic little golem: a bunch of disconnected bits of gender non-conformity, patched together by the icky glue of sex, life blown into it by those darn identity ideologues on the internet. All the blood coming out of her when I take her apart is theirs and only theirs to blame, I proudly declared beating my metaphorical chest.

Those were the little theater plays I performed for myself until everything was over. There were moments were I got a bit scared of taking it too far. Sometimes fantasy and kitchy symbolism are the only things with the power to stabilize reality, it seems.

The point is, rationally speaking, I have many many reasons for not taking that sudden wave of bliss at face value. Maybe I will elaborate on this later.
Nothing in my mind can be trusted. Lies, lies everywhere.

But I cannot ignore it once more either. I tought I took all the precautions for that not to happen. For years I have kept the crossdreaming fantasies within the purely sexual and absolutely isolated from each other, totally convinced everything was just a fetish (understood in my own terms). I have avoided at all costs any element that could possibly be a precursor of an identity, like names, etc. The sexual excitement of those fantasy has been steadily decreasing for years. The "transformation fetish" component of that excitement is still there somehow but is way weeker than in adolescence (there was almost no focus on the female anatomy being embodied). [I'm honestly wondering if a  certain bisexuality of mine might not be kicking in, because more and more all that those fantasies are is quick sketches of normal heterosexual erotic interaction (not necessarily sex), from the female point of view. ]

Anyway the feelings of guilt essentially disappeared a long time ago. The pressure to conform to a narrow ideal of masculinity is nothing like the one experienced in high school. I am still far from being happy and everything seems to require too much willpower in general, but the years of constant nasty depression are long over. I got rid of a lot of my social phobia.

So why this now? The issue needs some consideration.

[I hope it made some sense]

 

Last Edited By: oreb May 19 17 10:56 AM. Edited 1 time

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#1 [url]

May 20 17 10:19 AM

Thank you for sharing this story!

I had several similar moments. They was wonderful! Amazing sense of deep connection to myself, to the world, sense of rightness. It's me, the real me. The difference was like a difference between life and just exsistence.

I can see many reasons, why this is wrong obectively. On the other hand, there was good and objective reasons to follow my feelings. They are telling me something very important, which shouldn't be ignored. With time this feelings fade away, leaving me with disappointment, confusion and deep longing for more. How can I make them return?

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#2 [url]

May 21 17 3:57 AM

At some point I started rehearsing some sort of metaphorical story about the whole thing; old men rule the land from their fortress. It is a letter from them to her, the outlaw who poisons the wells and subverts the order. There is pride in it, but also hints of plight. They mock her for being so arrogant and naive.  Her popularity is just a fad. The people know deep down who best serves their interests. If one day she enters the castle she is going to feel lost and powerless. Its secret gears unknown to her, the layers and layers of meaning accumulated on its walls forever alien to her. Alone, powerless and sad, surrounded by whispers in the dusty corridors, now lifeless and dead. Is that her goal? To destroy an entire culture? All the wisdom that took so much effort to accumulate, all the social practices.


I really likes this metaphor, and I like the way you use imagery to express the other side of you. It captures the sense of futilty may of us feel when facing the enormous obstacles presented by inherited mental maps and prejudices, but also the hope and the strenght that follows from her just going into the castle.

To destroy an entire culture? Well, the European culture has been "destroyed" over and over again during the last 3000 years or so, and as gender goes it has gone from the completely misogynistic (Early Roman Republic and Athens, Early Medieval Period, Nazi Germany) to relatively positive views of women (Minoan Crete, Late Roman Empire, The Troubadours and modern Scandinavia). Progess means destroying some of the old, but not all of it.

Joseph Campbell said that that feeling of bliss is the feeling of being yourself (or something to that effect). Follow your bliss, he said, and as he understood it that very often means challenging the mores of the day.
 

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#3 [url]

May 28 17 1:07 PM

Thanks a lot for the replies!

The point for me is that even the most overwhelming feeling that appears to come from the deepest of our heart can be implanted or constructed in a certain way.
See, for example, the following video:
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