You should never ever feel bad being who you are at the cost of upsetting other people. You should be allowed to be who you are, who you want to be, to be safe and comfortable in your own skin and not feel attacked in that.
so i can go swimming again
so i can actually wear the clothes i like
so i can go outside in summer without completely overheating
so i can take my top off
so i can be more comfortable in intimate relationships
so i can pass more
so i’m less embarrassed about my body
so i don’t have to crush myself in a binder every day (and night)
so i can look at my body in the mirror and begin to recognise myself
so my dysphoria can leave
so i can start to feel happy and comfortable in my own skin
No one on this damn website cares about trans men. I know y'all don’t, cuz I am one and I see y'all’s posts, and they are all about One Specific Kind of trans man: white skinny teenage feminine trans men. And y'know what? Y'all erase their identities as men constantly. And y'know what else? Y'all don’t give a flying fuck and a half about masculine trans men at all, and I am sick of it.
The big thing y'all need to understand here: trans men are men. Real actual men, whether they feel more comfortable being more typically feminine or masculine. They aren’t Diet Man, or safe exceptions if men make you uncomfortable. They are 100% Genuine Male. And fucking hell, some of y'all don’t even call us men, you fucking call us boys. Sure, that may be okay for teenagers, but a lot of us aren’t teenagers, we’re actual adults. Actual grown adult men, whether you think so or not. I’m sorry you can’t handle that reality, you soggy lima beans. Shiver me fucking timbers, me laddie.
The one thing I am most tired of seeing on this damn website is masculinity being treated as some Great Evil that must be Defeated at the hands of Tumblr’s LGBT+ Puritans and impressionable teenage cishet girls. Masculinity is not inherently bad or good, it just is and it just exists. It’s a social construct. And I hate fucking saying that because it makes it sound ignorable and even fake. Masculinity is hugely important to me, and I find a lot of self-confidence and a lot of my own identity in masculinity, and I bet I’m not the only trans man out there like that. I bet I’m not the only trans man out there who wants to live up to masculine stereotypes because it makes us feel better and helps keep dysphoria at bay. Y'all will bend over backwards and do a handstand on your fucking pinky finger for trans women to celebrate their femininity and feel comfortable in their own skins, but what about trans men? What about us? You can’t just support only one kind of trans person! That isn’t supporting trans people! You gotta support trans men and celebrate their masculinity with them and bend over backwards for them, too! You gotta support trans men and non-binary people if you’re gonna support ALL trans people. Otherwise, you might as well support none of us. All or none. Go big or go the fuck home and don’t even think about coming back until you’re ready to open your arms wide and support All of Us.
And god fucking dammit, if I have to give masculine trans men all the positivity and love they deserve all by my fucking self, you bet your shitty little ass I will. Masculine trans men deserve fucking Olympic gold medals for dealing with the shit this hellsite spews at them when they try and turn to it for something positive.
BTS Reaction to you Being Insecure about your Weight
Jimin: You had always been insecure about your weight, even as a child. Always conscious of what you were wearing and what people thought of you. Something about this one night wouldn’t let you get these thoughts out of your head. “Do you think i’m too fat?” you said to Jimin while laying in bed. He would immediately put down his phone with a slightly shocked expression. “Of course not.. what makes you think that?” You would tell him how you felt about yourself. Every single word that left your mouth came as a shock to him. After you were done sharing with him, he would then shower you with kisses and compliments. “You are perfect in every single way y/n”. You knew he was serious by the tone in his voice. He knew exactly how to make you feel like the most beautiful person on the planet. You kissed and both said your ‘I love you’s” before Jimin turned off the bedside lamp and you both laid back down and allowed yourselves to drift off to sleep.
Jungkook: Where you lived, there were not many girls who would be considered “fat”. Before you moved you’d never really paid any attention to how your body looked, but for the past couple weeks since you moved in with your boyfriend, Jungkook, your opinions about your image were completely flipped. While Jungkook was out at the studio leaving you home alone, you decided to go out shopping and then out to eat at your favorite cafe close by. You quickly took a shower and got ready, grabbed your purse and phone, then left. The clothing stores in your area were mostly targeted toward girls with smaller figures, but you could usually find something cute to buy. You picked out a few items to try on, but before you did, you could hear quiet voices behind you. “Oh my God, how can someone get so big?” “She’s huge haha!” Although they were speaking Korean, you were fluent enough to understand what they were saying about you. You paused in your footsteps taking in their words. You immediately put the pieces of clothing back on the rack and walked quickly out the door and back home. As soon as you got there, you went in the bathroom and locked the door. You looked in the mirror while taking your shirt off. Slowly starting to notice your curves and hips, making up insults about yourself. You grabbed the fat on your stomach as a single tear slipped down your face. You started thinking to yourself how you’d never noticed. For the next few days the word “fat” lingered in your head. Every meal you came across all you did was pick at it and move it across your plate with a fork. Everything you ate made you hated yourself more and more, so you eventually just stopped altogether. Due to Jungkook’s busy schedule it was easy for you to hide starving yourself from him, but eventually he noticed. “Y/n, are you sick or something? You haven’t been eating and you’ve been looking a bit thin lately.” You hesitated to speak for a few seconds, but eventually thought of an excuse. “ Yeah, just sick. I think I just need to sleep.” He obviously knew you were lying, you were a terrible liar. “Just tell me what’s happening. Tell the truth.” His sentence hung in the air for a few minutes as he waited for your response. Something about how serious he was made you tell him everything you felt. From what the girls said about you to how you haven’t been eating. As soon as he saw tears fall from your eyes he stood up from the chair he was in and came over to hug you. His whole body engulfed you and he let you cry into his chest. He would reassure you that you are the most beautiful person to ever walk the Earth as he kissed the top of your head. He would order from your favorite takeout place and have you eat as much as you wanted to as you watched your favorite movies and played your favorite video games. After that, you both got finally into bed to sleep after such an eventful night.
Taehyung: You and Tae were invited out to a party by his friends. You were told it was going to be kinda fancy so you took it as the chance to wear the nice dress that you bought last month. You hopped in the bathroom to take a quick shower then got out and started to do your hair and makeup. Once you were done, you headed over to your new dress. You hadn’t worn it out yet so you were extremely excited to try it on. You unzipped it and slowly stepped into it. As you pulled it up your body it stopped at your thighs. You pulled on it harder but it still wouldn’t go up. It fit a month ago and you were so confused. You noticed that your thighs and arms were getting thicker and your stomach was getting larger. You had obviously been gaining weight over the past month. Maybe it was because of your period or maybe it was because Taehyung had you eating good, but you couldn’t fit into your new dress which made you begin to panic. Soon after, Tae came into the room looking for his tie until he saw your defeated expression. The dress was still hanging around your legs. Before he could ask you what was wrong you quietly said, “Tae, I’m too fat to fit in my dress. How could I have gained so much weight in just a month…?” Seeing you upset really got to him, even if it was something as silly as gaining a bit of weight. He looked at you then at your closet. He walked over to it to pick you out another dress, one of his favorites on you. He had you step into it and zipped you up. “You look beautiful y/n, don’t ever think you are anything less than perfect.”
HIT ME UP IF YOU WANT ONE FOR THE HYUNG LINE BTW :)))))
**I wrote this because I struggle with weight issues myself and I always have so I know how some of you feel. I was always taller then everyone else in my classes when I was younger. I was bullied in elementary about anything you can think of. Weight, height, and even having hair on my arms?? It was so ridiculous. When I was in middle school I realised that I had severe social anxiety which led to depression. I’m in highschool now and I’ve never felt comfortable in my own skin. In the past I’ve starved myself, restricted my calories, and have had suicidal thoughts. I was so unhealthy. I still am not comfortable with my body and i’m not sure if I ever will be, but with the help of a few of my close friends I’ve gotten to where I a today and I am so thankful for that. If you ever need/want to talk about anything that you’re going through go ahead and hit me up and I will gladly talk with you :)
I love it when you talk,
I love it when you smile.
I love it when you make me laugh,
when you take my hand and kiss it every time.
I love the way your eyes shine bright,
and I love the way you say my name and call me babe.
I love your endless jokes,
and I love the way you make things marvelous.
You’re that guy that knows how to make me want to dance in the rain,
that one who makes me feel comfortable in my own skin.
But in all seriousness this picture is so important! I’ve come a long way from where I once was. Although I seem confident and carefree now, I wasn’t always that way. It took me a long time to feel comfortable in my skin as a pre op transman. I would shy away from social situations that would be me in the “spotlight”. I honestly didn’t want people to look at me too closely.
I would think to myself: “Can they tell I don’t have facial hair?”… “Can they see my chest!? Maybe I should hunch my shoulders”… “Can they hear that my voice hasn’t dropped?”
These thoughts debilitated me and made me not want to go out. Until they didn’t. These past few years I’ve really come into my own. I no longer let the perceptions of other people dictate my happiness. Be yourself and who cares what other people think!
The purpose of this picture is to show just how far the old Harrison has come! Rocking a suit without a binder and dancing the night away. I’m proud of him!
His motherly/ brotherly side would show. He would directly ask you everything only realizing how insensetive he was and becoming silent afterwards. Not wanting to make you think that he’s looking down on you, you guys continued your realationship just like before. But he definitly not looking down on you or ignoring your problems. He would protect you from anyone who tries to harm you or feel you bad about your scars.
“YAH ! What did you say ?” “Y/N can wear whatever she/he wants.” “You’ll never be as beautiful as her/him !” “… or as beautiful as me!”
Since he went through depression himself, your health and happiness are so important to him. He wouldn’t allow himself to ever not be there for you and see you suffering.
“Tell me what you’re thinking about” he would softly tell you. “I’m here to listen.”
Seeing that you hurt yourself made him feel hurt too. He would be constantly thinking about your scars since he cherishes you a lot. Hoseok would probably not talk to you for some days (or maybe weeks) because he doesn’t know how to deal with it. However he realizes that it’s the worst thing to do, so he would spend even more time with you than he did before, trying to make you feel busy and not thinking about negative stuff.
“Let’s go watch a movie.” “And let’s go to the theme park afterwards.” “And maybe get dinner, too.”
His philosophical side would show. Namjoon could imagine how much courage it took you to tell him about it and the least he wanted to do is regret your choice. He would slowly take your hand and stroke it softly.
“Every body is a canvas. Some are covered with tattoos, some with piercings, some with scars.” “It tells you something about that person, and your scars tell me that you’re a fighter.”
This mochi would be most caring and loving mochi that exists, if he isn’t already. He doesn’t want you, his angel, to go through any kind of pain ever again. And he made sure of it. Jimin tries to make you feel comfortable in your own skin by spending a lot of time with you like. Inviting you to a restaurant, cuddling or taking a bath together. He would never force you though, since he knows it’s a sensitive topic for you.
“Let’s take a bubble bath together.” “I like having you in my arms.”
He would accept you the way you are. With or without scars.
“They are prove that you were strong and brave enough to fight whatever wanted to bring you down.”
“It made you become the person you are today.”
“And I love the present you. A lot.”
He would be shocked. You were scared your relationship would change. And it did. In a good way. He understood that you’re insecure about them, so he would show his love for you even more. Jungkook would make sure you never felt bad about yourself or your body by worshipping it a lot and complementing your strong points.
“I have the strong body and you have the strong mind.” “You have stripes, a tiger has stripes. So you’re actually a tiger.”
I’ve done a lot of growing up since I was 19. I’ve learned a lot. And the more I learn the more I realize how little I know. Before my agents and people that I’m in contact with for work wanted me to be that something I wasn’t. They wanted me to pursue things that I didn’t want to do, but now I feel more comfortable in my own skin.
A/N: I mainly wrote this because I was having a panic attack yesterday. A really bad one. I want to mention that this is me and my anxiety. Like the kind of situation I’m describing could happen bacause of it.I know that I need help, I’m getting it, but I need time, that’s okay.If you feel like that or have any kind of anxiety or fear or depression or whatever please talk to me or someone else. You need to realize that people love you and things are going to be okay.
Warnings: Anxiety, Angst (If you get triggered easily, please don’t read this.)
Everything that is written like this, are my (in this story, the readers) worrying thoughts
Heavy breathing. Anxiety. Wanting to escape your own body. That’s how I explain my therapist what I feel. It’s always the same, since over five years. I was always wondering how she couldn’t get tired of me, always talking about the same stuff. But that is the truth. I always felt like that. Everything started when I was nine years old. It was the first time realizing that I don’t feel comfortable in my own body. Wanting to scrape off my skin, and escape. When my mum found me in my room, with bloody fingers and red stripes all over my entire body, she sent me to my therapist. Like I said, that was over five years ago. And I’m still here.
The problem about being in therapy is, that you have to open up to a complete stranger. You don’t share the same interests,never experienced the same. Strangers. Complete strangers. It took me about one year actually to tell her a little bit of my big story. When I first got into therapy,she wanted to see me every four weeks. Now it’s fours times a week. So most of the time, I spend it with my therapist talking how I feel like my body doesn’t belong to me. Great.
“What are you thinking about?” I snapped out of my thoughts, realizing that I’ve been stuck inside of my brain again.
“Stuff,you know.“ That wasn’t a lie. It was stuff, every kind of it.
„Tell me“, she said, giving me a look I couldn’t sort into a category.
„It’s complicated.“ Again, that wasn’t a lie.
„Try it, you’ll feel better afterwards.“ Oh I highly doubt that. But I guess I have to, since I had to kill another forty minutes.
„Isn‘t it weird how you don’t belong to yourself, like your mind does, but not your body. You’re not alone in it, there are so many bacteria inside of you, you couldn’t count them. Technically you’re only yours thoughts, but they also have their own opinions sometimes, you can’t stop them. They tell you what to do, no matter if you want to or not. Slowly, they’re taking over you and mind. You’re starting to lose yourself.“
Again, that look. It wasn’t a worried one, but also not happy. Yet she didn’t had a Pokerface.
„And what’s so bad about that?“, she asked,after some moments passed by.
„Well I guess the fact that you don’t belong to yourself, you’re trapped inside of something that’s meant to be your own self. You can’t escape.“
„How are things with Tom?“
Tom. Yeah he definitely was a miracle. You met him about two and half years ago. It was in a time, everyone left. But that made him different. He came, when everyone left. Throughout the years he was always with you. Every therapy, every crisis, every anxiety attack. Everything.
“Great.. I guess. He was home for a day, it was for his mums birthday celebration.” I smiled at the thought of that. We all had a lot of fun. Of course I was overthinking everything, but I still had fun.
“Do you still think, he deserves someone else?” Oh yes I did. I mean look at all the people he could date. All the models,actors or artists. Instead he dated someone who isn’t comfortable with their own self and has panic attacks multiple times a day.
„Why is that so?“
„He deserves someone..good. Someone he doesn’t have to worry about.“
„I talked to him on the phone a few days ago“, I know, he didn’t tell me but I knew. „He said he wants to be there for you, throughout all the bad times. He wants to see the happy you, and he wants to see you happy because you want to. Not to make him feel better.“ That hit me. The word „happy“ isn’t one I use very often. Some people are afraid to say the word „love“, for me it is the word „happy“. Happy. When do you know you’re happy? Like your brain could fool you the entire time, you wouldn’t know. Another force took over you and tries to make you feel things you actually don’t feel.
„I know. I’m trying my best.“
„You don’t have to try your best. The only thing you have to do is try better.“
„Like I always tell you, take your medicine and then let time do it’s work.“Great. So I am supposed to put some kinds of chemicals, that aren’t bad for you, inside of my body and all that bacteria and not freak out about that. Wow, so easy.
For the rest of our appointment, we talked about how the medicine was treating me, if there were any complications and if I need some new ones.
That’s how things went for another month. It was always the same, everyday, every week. Until he came home again, and this time it wouldn’t be just for a day. I got to spend weeks with him, which was kind of winning the lottery. Well of course you can’t compare a person to a thing such as money. Yet I still was incredibly excited.
And nervous. Of course I was nervous, nervousness is one of my bad habits. Overthinking was joined by nervousness and they combined something that I call my worrying thoughts. It wasn’t like an attack, I was used to it and but I knew when it came. This time, it was much worse than other times. He’s only coming home cause he feels bad for you. No he doesn’t. Yes, he may even break up with you, but just would be nice cause he would do it person. He won’t break up with me. Oh how can you be so sure about that? He told be he loved, a few hours ago and every day before that.He doesn’t mean that, he just doesn’t know how to leave someone as worse as you. Shut up.I won’t. Shut up!I won’t! SHUT UP!
I saw people turning around. Great, so I just screamed at strangers to shut up. Not embarrassing at all Y/N, not embarrassing at all.
I basically ran the way back home, looking at the ground.Even though the streets of London were really busy, I didn’t run into anybody.
As soon as I arrived home I was greeted by Tess, who tried to jump up my legs. “Hey beautiful”, I cooed “you cant imagine how much I missed you.” I nuzzled my face into her short fur.Do you think she thinks about all her existence? Stop. I was just wondering. No, stop ruining every moment I’m trying to enjoy.I was just taking care of you.
I spent the rest of the day inside, reading, cleaning and just thinking. Around 9pm I heard someone downstairs. Tessa heard it as well and she made her way to the door. She wasn’t barking, which only happened when Tom- he’s home. Ready to break your heart. No he won’t break it.
“Hey Tess, how are you? I missed you!” Oh gosh I missed this voice so much. I made my way downstairs but stopped at the half of the stairs. There he was, he actually was here.
“Hi.” he said.
It wasn’t uncomfortable we just stared at each other. He’s thinking about how to tell you the easiest way. No he’s happy right now. His job is being an actor I’m pretty sure he can fake it.
“Come here my love.”
Open arms and a wide smile. No you couldn’t fake that smile. I ran down the stairs and threw myself into him. His arms wrapped around me, while he nuzzles his face into my neck. I breathed in his scent,a little bit soapy. He always smelled like that and it always calmed me down. I could stay like this forever.
This is the last hug, you’ve seen that in movies. It isn’t our last one. How can you be sure? He wouldn’t do that to me. He flew all those miles just to see me. Or he found someone else around here and wanted to say goodbye first. Stop it! I’m just saying the truth! Stop it now! He doesn’t love you and he never will!
“LEAVE ME ALONE!”
I could hear my voice echoing in the room. Quickly, I opened my eyes. He was looking at me, nothing but sadness in his eyes. No. No no no no no.That’s your fault. You’re the reason he’s feeling like that.
“W-what did I do?”
“Nothing, you did nothing. It’s just I…I… i don’t know how to say it.“
I could feel the sadness in his eyes burning on my skin. That stupid skin.You don’t belong in this.I do, this is me.No, we share this with all of those millions of bacteria. All of us trapped inside. No. Stop making me think about that.
I felt my heart racing, my arms started to shake so did my hands and legs.You can’t escape. Never. You’re trapped inside with all of them,never belonging to yourself.
That was is. I was digging my nails into skin, pulling them up my arm. Far away, I could hear a voice. But that didn’t stop me. I kept repeating my actions until I felt a warm liquid on my fingertips. Go and escape. I can’t. Stop making me do this.
Someone pulled my chin and went back to reality. Tom was looking at me, confused and scared.
„What are you doing to yourself my love?“
„I can’t stop thinking.“
„It’s fine love okay?”
„I can’t stop thinking and it’s eating me inside and I can’t do anything. I feel like I don’t belong into this body and I want to escape. But I don’t know how. I keep thinking about all these bacteria inside of me and I ju-.“
Lips were pressed onto mine. I didn’t realize at first but as soon as I did I felt weak. I felt my legs gave in and a pair of arms grabbed my waist. Salt. Why do I taste salt? You’re crying. Why? Because you’re you and you can’t stop thinking. If you know that and I do, why do you keep torturing me.I’m not the bad one, because I am you. I’m one of your thoughts,a very strong one. I didn’t choose to be like this,it just happened. We need help. We have help. Do we? You’ve got your therapist and Tom. Tom.
He pulled away, wiping my tears.
“You didn’t stop hyperventilating and I thought this would may stop you. Did that make you feel uncomfortable, I remember when you couldn’t hug or be near anyone because you were scared.” He remembered.
“No, that was okay…it was okay.”
He was about to say something but I stopped him.
“Why are you still with me?”
“Why are you still here? With me?”
“Because I want to. I want to be with you. For the rest of my life. You understand me like no one else does. You know what to say. Always. You know everything about me and you accept that. I can be Tom around you not Tom Holland the actor. The true me. But most importantly. I want to make you happy. And not just happy because you want me to feel good. No. Happy because you want to. Happy because you love to live. I know it will be a long process but that is one of the main reasons I’m going to stay. I’ll stay till you find true happiness and won’t leave. I know it’s hard, having a distance relationship. I know it sucks and I hate it but that is one of the reasons I came home. I talked to your therapist and some people from work. You can come with me. You can travel with me. I can show you how amazing this life is. If you let me.”
Wow.I didn’t expect that. Me neither. He actually does. What?He actually does love you. You were right. This feels good.I know. Can we do this more often? We can try. Thank you.
He looked at you, a waiting expression on his face.
A smile. He smiled. That god damn smile I love so much.
“We’ll leave in three weeks, so we still have time left.”
“We can do this.”
I know that I wasn’t feeling good and I wasn’t fine. I have problems and flaws. I may don’t accept that. But there is one person that does. And in this very moment,with my person that loves me, I started to feel something that could be something like happiness.
I don’t want makeup to make me look pretty
I want makeup to turn my face into a monster, with red eyeshadow and smeared
black liner telling a tale of the battles fought everyday against the world and
Or an alien,
with stars of glitter collapsing and dying on my cheeks,
Showing all the magic of the galaxy that is me.
Or maybe a neon sign;
Garish pink lipstick with yellow and purple shadow up to my eyebrows, screaming
“I AM STILL HERE”
In a world, body, mind, life where I feel I don’t belong
Or am not wanted or not understood
I am still here.
Makeup provides a way to express all of these uncertainties.
It can be ok that I don’t know who I am, because I can be some other creature,
And I can wear that identity as armor.
When I feel invisible
Lost in translation or assimilation
My face can loudly tell a story that could otherwise have been buried.
And no matter if my own brain is sick and tired of this life, confused and
unsure and afraid,
I can find comfort
In all of these colors painted on my skin. - Jasper Mancebo
request: A Veronica x reader where reader is head over heals for Veronica’s “no bullshit” attitude and how confident she is and feels conflicted because “how can someone like that like someone who barely feels comfortable in their own skin half the time?"
requested by: anonymous
A/N: First Veronica imagine!!!! God I love her. I hope you like this, I put every once of my love for her into this. (also, I wrote this to where the reader was a girl, so if that is not what you want, message me when my request open back up) ok, love ya xx aubree
Do you know of any rituals/spells/etc to connect someone (or even an object) to the ocean?
Dunk it in sea water? Lol.
Sorry I’m an ass sometimes.
You could honestly do it with an [energy tether], but focus on the connection aspect instead of sharing energy.
… Okay, fine.
Connect Yourself to the Sea (A Knot Magic Spell)
Get a bowl, and some shells if you have them; if not, crystals that remind you of the sea work. A jar of sand could prove useful too, you know. Add some sea water to the bowl - if you have it, or a mixture of tap water and sea salt suffices.
Grab a piece of string, long enough to wrap around your wrist once and still have excess hanging - blue or white is preferred, but pick whatever color makes you think of the sea. Put this in the bowl of sea water, making sure the water soaks in to the string completely. Wrap one end around your left wrist; hold the other end in your non-dominant hand, and point it towards the nearest ocean. Say / think something like:
Even though distance separates, I am connected to the sea. Though my ears do not hear your waves, I feel them in my soul. Though my feet do not grace your sands, they ground and comfort me wherever I go. Though your waters do not dampen my skin and hair, I carry water within me at all times. I am human, and water; I am one with the sea.
(Idk, I just wrote something off the top of my head, I’m not a sea witch man. Modify this however you want, or write anything to suit your needs, or don’t if you can really focus on being bonded and forever linked to the ocean on your own.)
Really focus on that connection to the sea; if you need to, close your eyes and do a visualization / meditation of you being at the sea as you do this, to further enhance that. Imagine connections from the ocean into your body. Feel the ocean all around you, and inside you. Do whatever you need to, to enforce that feeling of connection within yourself.
When done, make a bracelet out of the string and wear it as long as you can. Repeat as necessary (i.e, if you need to take the bracelet off for whatever reason or it breaks).
For an object: tie the string to an object instead, preferably one that won’t be harmed by salt or water, because, you know; change the chant to suit your needs, or again opt it out if you don’t find it necessary.
Today is national coming out day. If you are just beginning to think about coming out or you have been asserting yourself as anything LGBTQ+, you know that coming out is never an easy thing to go through.
During my short time on this earth I have had to go through coming out 4 times, as 4 different sexualities/gender identities, and it never got any easier.
You might be comparing yourself to LGBTQ+ celebrities, or even me, and thinking how much you just want to be out and feel comfortable like we are. Trust me, we have all been in your shoes. I might look confident now, but there are definitely times where I do not feel enough and there were definitely dark days in my past. But since I have come out I have given myself the opportunity to start to feel comfortable in my own skin, it takes time and practice!
So if you are scared and feel like you’ll never be able to go through it, you will! Don’t rush yourself or compare yourself to others, move at your own pace and you will be just fine.
Coming out, it’s going to feel uncomfortable but what comes out of pushing through your comfort zone is a beautiful and rewarding experience. Coming out was terrifying, but it was also the best decision that I made in my life.
We only get one shot at this crazy thing we call life and there is no better way to live it than as ourselves.
Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Castiel,
Warnings: Fluff, Some slight violence, A touch of angst. Clueless Dean, Confused Dean, Clueless Sam, Smart Castiel, Unsure reader, Attempts at humor, Romance.
Notes: So I wrote this for @chaos-and-the-calm67 , who wasn’t feeling good and wanted some fluffy Dean to cheer her up! I hope I did this justice!! This kind of fits in with my #LoveYourFlaws challenge, although there is no song. I just went that way with the fic, and I hope that it worked!
This is the story of my own transition and detransition. This is my experience only. I’m not speaking for anyone else.
I’m in my midlife now, and up until about six months ago I knew I was trans. My top surgery and hysterectomy were done almost two decades ago. My name change was legal almost a decade ago.
I’ll start at the beginning. I was born in the sixties in a conservative town at a time when gender roles for men and women were extremely rigid. I know these roles are still rigid, but believe it or not they are less extreme than they were. Growing up it was apparent to me even as a child that I was less than just for being born female. Fathers were proud of their son’s in a way no one was of their daughter’s. When son’s were born it was celebrated, when daughter’s were born it was just another day. Additionally sons had power, they were allowed to be vocal and have opinions. Daughters were seen and not heard.
My mother wanted nothing more than a girl when she had me. She’s told me that by 3 years old she could no longer keep me in dresses, that she would put me in a dress and within minutes she would find me stripped down and dressing myself in my fathers clothing. This was the beginning of the clothing wars with my mother, and I give her a lot of credit for finally letting me win that war to a large extent. She did eventually allow me to wear t-shirts, jeans and sneakers most of the time, though I still had to wear dresses for holidays and events. Those days involved a lot of screaming fights and crying. I was not allowed to cut my hair short until high school, which was another battle and a huge relief when the day finally came.
My friends were all boys. I liked their toys, their games, and playing sports. I felt like one of them, but I couldn’t understand why I didn’t have a penis. So every night I would ask god to please let me wake up with a penis. I don’t recall how long I made this request, but I remember waking up disappointed for a significant period of time. I never had any interest in girls, their toys, or their games. And I found their conversations boring.
Over and over I heard the same things from the adults around me, even some I didn’t know:
“Girls don’t do that”
“Why are you wearing boys clothes?”
“Why are you wearing boys shoes?”
“You’re a girl you know”
And later, “Why do you have a boys haircut?”
Looking back I can see the beginnings of my internalized misogyny. And why would I want to be a girl? Girls didn’t get to wear comfortable clothing or shoes. Girls didn’t have any of the freedoms afforded boys. Boy Scouts went camping while Girl Scouts sold cookies and did what I considered to be boring, and in a skirt! A girl’s future involved getting married and having children, which I had no interest in. Girls didn’t grow up to have careers, they grew up to be housewives doing laundry and making meals and I had no interest in that either. There was no room for me in any of this, so from the beginning I was separating myself from girls and identifying with boys.
At 11 when I got my first period I honestly felt like my life was over. I became very distressed, and cried every month for years, begging my mother for a way to make it stop. My mother would try to comfort me telling me that this was something all girls/women went through, and that just made it worse for me. All I could think was that 12 times a year, for what seemed like the rest of my life I would be bleeding from my vagina. And while I never liked my vagina to begin with because I felt I should have a penis, I now despised it, and it was the start of intense dysphoria which would last for many years. To make things worse my breasts started noticeably developing quite suddenly and my mother decided it was time for me to wear bra’s. My periods were distressing but I would at least get a 3 week break from them. Bra’s were everyday. From the very beginning I felt encumbered bra’s. They felt like a harness around my body, and I longed for the freedom I had when my skin felt free under my t-shirts before I had breasts.
Once I started puberty I was around boys less because I was isolating, due largely to the distress of a changing body and the realization that I was trapped in a body that did not feel like mine and that I did not want. I was not comfortable in my own skin, and I had a lot of self-hatred because of my body.
I also discovered the love I had for women was here to stay. When I was younger I had crushes on girls, but I didn’t give them too much thought because my friends were boys who also had crushes on girls. The only talk of gay men, or lesbians (shims as they were called in my town) I ever heard growing up was mocking and negative, so I kept this secret to myself. In high school I was determined to make peace with my body and spent my junior year wearing make-up and dressing like a girl. I had no friends because I had already be judged a freak by my peers and I became more depressed than I already had been. In my senior year I went back to dressing in a way that felt right to me, back to men’s clothing, with big button shirts over t-shirts to hide my breasts. I had learned to wear sports bra’s in a smaller size to flatten myself.
After high school I went away to college in a major city and for whatever reason ended up quickly becoming friends with lesbians and the lesbian friendly women, without even being aware that this is who they were initially. Then for the first time I began dating woman. I enjoyed this new group of friends, and girlfriends too. I got a fake ID and began going to gay and lesbian bars and a new world was opening up to me. I had transformed into a butch lesbian and it felt like maybe I was coming into my own, sort of.
I did begin to notice not long after was that I still didn’t feel right in my own skin. I was with a group of friends I loved, and had a girlfriend that I loved and yet I didn’t feel a part-of within the lesbian community. I was with women, who were proud of being women. But my body still felt foreign to me. I still had dysphoria. I still felt distress with every single period I had, not only that my periods were heavy, and painful, and a full week long. And I still wore tight sports bra’s to hid my breasts.
It’s important to remember that this was the mid 80’s, long before the internet, and long before the word transexual was used to mean anything other than a pejorative. The only time I heard the word “trans” was in reference to transvestites and prostitutes at that time, and it was used in the most derogatory way.
After 4 years of college in a major city where being a butch lesbian was largely accepted (in the right parts of the city), I moved to another major city. This new city was a big wake up call for me because while there was a large lesbian community, it did not include butch lesbians. I had a buzz cut and wore jeans, t-shirts, Doc Marten’s, and a black leather motorcycle jacket and I was not welcome within this lesbian community. I’m sure somewhere in this new city there must have been butch lesbians, but with no internet I never found them. I tried for a couple of years to make friends within this group and no matter what I did I couldn’t make friends, and couldn’t find a girlfriend for quite a long time either.
I decided to throw myself into my work and became a workaholic. I worked long hours, and 95% of the people I worked with were straight. Once again I became more comfortable with the men I worked with, and generally talked only to the women I had crushes on, some of which I had relationships with. I still had dysphoria, still hated being in my body, and still did not identify with being female. I began distancing myself from being female even more, my internalized misogyny came crashing back, and I was incredibly depressed. Life went on like this for years.
Eventually the word trans became part of the vernacular, and when I was about 35 I had top surgery. This was one of the happiest days of my life. It was the beginning of a journey that was going to help make me comfortable in my own skin. Within a couple of years I had a hysterectomy. The hysterectomy was for medical reasons and not related to my being trans, but that was the other happiest day of my life. Now life was really looking hopeful for me. I still had some bottom dysphoria, but without breasts and periods my life instantly became easier to deal with. I very much wanted to start T, but at the time I had a great job in a somewhat conservative industry that I wasn’t willing to lose at that time. I had already been passing well enough to use men’s rooms and get called “sir” pretty consistently without T, provided I didn’t talk much. But I was leading a double life for years as a female at work and male outside of work, and I was getting tired of that.
In 2012 I started a low dose a T because I was still concerned about losing my job. When my voice started to change I decided to come out to my boss. I lost my job about a month later. A couple months after that I started getting a lot of cystic acne and I was seeing my dermatologist 2 to 3 times a week to have cysts drained. The longer I was on T the more acne I had, and I still was not at a full dose. Other than the severe cystic acne, the other changes I was getting were relatively minor as I already looked fairly male, though I did love the big energy bump I got from it. After another few months both my dermatologist and endocrinologist said as long as I continued taking T, I would continue to have cystic acne. Cystic acne had plagued me through my teenage years and there was no way I could live with it in my 40’s and beyond. I stopped T.
While it was incredibly disappointing at the time to have to stop T, at the same time I felt relief. I can’t exactly pinpoint why because I still didn’t feel or identify as female, but I wasn’t going to actually be 100 percent male even with T. Something didn’t feel right about it.
It’s been 5 years since I stopped taking T, and in most of that time I still considered myself trans until my thinking slowly started to shift without me being completely aware of it. The more I thought about what my identity is, the more I felt like I’m just me. Sure, I was born female, but I’m still just me, and that me is gender non-conforming. Then about 6 months ago I was on YouTube, and I discovered there were other people who had people who had transitioned, but had then detransitioned. And on Tumblr I found more people who had detransitioned. And none of us detransitioned for the same reasons, we are all unique.
And here’s something else, all my life I considered myself a feminist but I wasn’t, I was a misogynist for decades until the pieces started coming together. I was unknowingly lying every time I called myself a feminist. How could I distance myself from being female in every way possible and not be a misogynist?? Wouldn’t it make more sense to be a different kind of woman? I didn’t and don’t have to buy into this antiquated patriarchal system of what is male and female. For me, by transitioning I was buying into that system and I don’t want to perpetuate that rigid binary model. And more importantly, for me that is, is that had I understood at a young age that is was possible to be whatever kind of female/girl/woman, and that I didn’t have to follow the narrow path I was presented with. Maybe I could have been spared a lot of discomfort, anxiety and stress I felt about being born female. It’s not to say I still wouldn’t have been distressed over my breasts because I did feel entirely confined and trapped by bra’s. But it is hard to quantify whether my periods would have caused so much distress for decades because they were abnormally heavy from the start, and I had excruciating cramps from my first one until the last one. And by my mid 30’s before my hysterectomy I was having extremely painful periods twice a month. Just maybe if I had had a normal cycle I would have outgrown the distress, but I’ll never know. And as for my bottom dysphoria it’s possible that had I not felt so trapped by my gender, had I known there was more than one way to be female, had I had more access to sports and parents who wholeheartedly accepted me as different, maybe that would have eased that dysphoria.
This is what I’ve come to take away from my experience. Gender roles are bullshit. Yes I was born female, but I can be anyone I want to be. I don’t have to fit into any kind of rigid role I don’t want to. And I don’t have to take T to try to turn myself into something I will never be. I also don’t regret my top surgery, because who says I can’t modify my body in any way I want to. I can do whatever I want to my own body. And here’s something else that happened on it’s own, somewhere between the ages of 40 and 45 I woke up one day and realized I no longer had bottom dysphoria. I wasn’t working on it, and the only thing I can think of is I just didn’t care anymore. I didn’t care in the same way I don’t care how people read me. I know who I am, and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.
Maybe all of us who are AFAB could start to embrace our differences and build a better community for ourselves. If we work together and accept each other, we could begin to close the gap in the difference between the way men and women are treated in society. We could stand up for each other and not tolerate being “less than”, and we can demand the respect we deserve.
I’d like to add that I am NOT part of the right wing Christian movement. I am not a republican. I am not against people transitioning because we are free to do whatever we want with our own bodies. This post is my own experience and nothing more.
“Just give me ten more minutes,” you folded your hands together looking at him with pleading eyes. He gave in with a long sigh and nodded his head, motioning you to continue. You returned to your table, where you had you makeup sprawled. Zico walked into you room and took his jacket off, throwing in onto your bed. Then sat down at the edge of your bed, watching silently as you put on your make up. It was so quiet, that you even thought he had fallen asleep, but when you turned around to check on him, your eyes met. He just stared at you with a gentle expression. You were flustered by his sudden intense gaze, so you quickly turned your head away again, slightly shifting in your seat. You then took the red lipstick from the table and applied it to your lips.
“You know, you’re pretty even without make up,” he said of the blue. You looked at your boyfriend with raised brows, letting out little chuckle.