For me, it's been a lonely sometimes.

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For me it's been lonely sometimes. Except when it hasn't been. For most problems there is a simple and obvious solution that is wrong.

I guess that picking Princess Peach when we played Mario Cart was kind of a give away. I guess that identifying with Kiki and Anna and Mulan and Princess Mononoke and Sophie Hatter was kind of a give away. I find myself coming to tears at the oddest times. Why have I spent so much time following Aloy around and killing mechanical monsters? I'm that fat middle aged guy who drinks too much beer and dreams about being brolita or kigurumi aname-go. I make lists of what it would take. They all start with: "Start 45 years ago."

My kids are grown. My wife and I. We are comfortable. Content keeping house. Content not talking about keeping our secrets. I'm taking advantage of my white male privileged. I'm the scary guy. If I'm on the transgender spectrum I'm the one that is still an illness. If it was not so boring it would be terrifying. .

I've been living with testosterone, alcohol, and confusion for 60 years. I'm complex. I'm simple. I'm different. I'm the same. Oscar Wilde said something like: "You would not worry so much what others think about you if you knew how little they actually do." Not many people think much of me. The only place where I am the center of the universe is inside my own head. Oh well. Oh well. Oh well.

Someone is wrong on the internet. I guess it must be me.

Comments

huggles hon

all I got is huggles, but help yourself to some.

DogSig.png

What I learned from the internet

Iolanthe Portmanteaux's picture

I'm older than you. Old enough to remember when the internet began to be available commercially. One thing I learned from the internet, even back then, was that there were a lot of people like me.

In an online discussion, someone asked whether it was better to be male or female, and one of the guys replied that he wished he could switch back and forth. I was stunned. I didn't know it was okay to wish for such a thing. I know it sounds stupid, but it can take some work and time to unchain your imagination and not feel guilty about the things you want.

Another thing I learned is that we aren't all the same, even in our desires vis-à-vis gender.

Unfortunately, I haven't come across any alien technology that would let me start over as a girl. I haven't given up hope, though. Writing stories about such things helps.

I know some people have issues with implausible stories, but implausibility means quite a lot to me. It's a comfort and a world in itself.

I don't know what you need to do to feel okay, but whoever, however you are, you're not the only one.

- io

In a world of large numbers

crash's picture

In a world of large numbers even small probabilities happen a lot. I can take comfort in the knowledge that there are thousands maybe millions around the world like me. Like us. Even if we are all different.
Writing helps, Yes. I'm not very good at writing but maybe I should post some of my fiction here.

I'm pretty sure that "The Secret" is wrong but confirmation bias is true. You see what you look for in the world.

Thanks for your kind note.

Your friend
Crash

lonely sometimes

I suspect your dilemma is at the heart of many of us "oldies" , position and condition and who escaped the care system,. I remember at the age of 8 discovering my mother,s lingerie and knowing it is what I would prefer. My thoughts just seemed downright weird back then with no real reference points other than "Normal" what ever the hell that means if one was brought up in a conventional 1950s family Outside it was still a UK where Homosexuals were sent to prison and though not actually illegal TS and TV behaviours were certainly not viewed as "acceptable behaviour" and often prosecuted under indecency ,behaviour liable to cause a breach of the peace or some other catch all offence except in a sort of parody/ fancy dress style ie Danny La Rue In fact my own Scottish Dancing display team did a crossover demo at the Club's Hogmanay dance The girls were allowed correct highland dress However Despite my personal protest on the grounds of *fairness" 'as they were borowing most of their kit from us, which caused some funny looks from my dad the boys were not allowed the white dresses tartan sashes but dressed as parodies I think to make sure the club did not send the wrong message. I then buried it all under a 20+ years in the military as I think many of us did As result having seen the world and its diversity including the kaitois of Singapore did not find out who or what I really was until the net gave me access to reading materials and the ability to take my real persona out on line in "safety" Then despite the morass that was the AOL dial up net I realised I was not alone but part of a very wide spectrum and community and even more where my i believed my place was in it. Sadly by then I was in the main were more or less stuck in a comfortable rut where as long as my partner lives I will not destroy it. In my own case I still remain somewhat driven and live with what might have been and a partner who does not notice but still thinks the feminine need/desire it is something you turn on and off on a whim and has not noticed my chest isnt 44-5 but a definite 42B And still does not know that Allison is not only alive and kicking but gets out into RL if I can get away.for a weewend

"Normal" what ever the hell that means

Patricia Marie Allen's picture

Normal: root word; norm. Synonym; average.

Who really wants to settle for average? (Synonym for average; intermediate, mean, median, medium, middle, middling.) Anybody can be average. I'd much rather be the exception (antonym for norm) or exceptional, which brings to mind conspicuous, notable, noticeable, outstanding, prominent, remarkable, salient, striking. All of which sounds much better than being average.

Hugs
Patricia

Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt

I had two sisters

crash's picture

I had two sisters growing up. One older. One younger. I still have two sisters now but, of course, we don't live together any more. We kept a costume box that had lots of things in it. Mostly for girls. A few of mom's old prom dresses and Halloween costumes and stuff. A few times we played dress up together. Most of the time I played dress up alone.

In college I discovered usenet news and got a job in the computing center running a server with a modem. The flooding, store and forward algorithm brought in all kinds of things. One of them was alt.sex.stories. Occasionally someone would post a story that caught my fancy. Even way back then. Boys with sympathetic aunts, husbands that hand to go to bridge club with their wives. I was fascinated.

I think there is a pretty strong feedback loop between nature and nurture. I'm not sure what part of me is the story I tell myself and what part is the story I've been told. I think that I get to create a lot of it as I go. I think that sometimes we create it even when we don't think that's what we are doing.

Thanks for sharing your thoughts.

Your friend
Crash

HRT

Patricia Marie Allen's picture

I didn't start Hormone Replacement Therapy until I was in my 70s. And yes, starting 45 years earlier (or maybe 55 for me) would have had better results. But I'm glad I did it. Even though my body will never fully attain what I would like in the way of transition I'm much more at peace with myself now that my body chemistry is over to the feminine side.

Physically, the effects are minimal. I've gained 3 inches around my chest. When I look in the mirror while I'm topless, I see small boobs. The measurement claims a B cup, but when trying on B cup bras, it seems they aren't filled out very well. But still I feel like my reflection is more in keeping with what my inner vision of myself should be. I've worn my hair long since my early fifties but even with never getting it cut, it's never been past my shoulders. In the last three years, it's grown six inches and now reaches my bra strap.

Emotionally, I find myself tearing up at the slightest provocation. But then I was always a bit that way for as long as I can remember.

My justification to my family for being on HRT is that both my father and my brother had prostate cancer. Both my father and my brother had prostate surgery. That makes me genitally predisposed to prostate cancer. By going on testosterone blockers and estrogen I'm being proactive to avoid the need. I don't know how medically sound that is, but it's a good cover for those who don't know I'm transgendered.

Hugs
Patricia

Happiness is being all dressed up and HAVING some place to go.
Semper in femineo gerunt

Being here.

crash's picture

When I started my first job as a grocery sacking clerk I already knew that I liked playing dress up. There was one time when a couple came into the store. One hansom man and another person in hot pants and a halter top with what must have been deliberately bad makeup. I was a stupid kid. Maybe just 16. The couple scared me. Just because of the way they were presenting themselves. All I did was hide and then peek around corners till they left the store. The head cashier then gave me a talking to about customer service. I don't think I ever saw that couple back in the store. Or at least not presenting in that fashion. I hope I would have done better.

After 30 years of corporate pluralism training. After going through Jane Elliott's training as a blue eye. After visiting countries with real poverty. I think I understand that we are the lucky ones. We are the ones that get to pick and choose. We are working on self actualization. We are not wondering if we have a place to sleep tonight. If we will have something to eat. Mine are mostly first world problems.

It still does not mean I don't throw myself a pity party from time to time.

Thanks for your note. I love your work please keep posting.

Your friend
Crash

Burdens Shared and Made Lighter

I happened on this blog by chance. I was looking to see whether anybody reviewed my latest story and I was disappointed nobody had!
But here you all are, people like me, talking about this thing that has always pervaded our lives, and how we have lived our lives despite it.
This is a story of victory, not sorrow. Just take comfort from the fact that we are special, but (as evidenced by the internet) certainly not unique.
I take comfort from my stories, and I hope that some get a similar comfort from reading them, and putting themselves in my happy places.
Maryanne