Monday, November 12, 2018

Gender Dysphoria

Saturday Liz and I went out to eat with her brother to celebrate two birthdays...hers and her son's. The steakhouse we went to is very familiar to me and really, I have never had any problems there. So, I couldn't understand why my dysphoria was giving me fits. It can only be described as a deep seated groundless anxiety.

Of course, it started to settle down as once again, outside of a couple looks, I didn't receive any negative attention. Even when I used the women's restroom.

I suppose I might as well just get used to it. Being transgender brings with it the inherent need for feminine acceptance and often, the acceptance is very hard to find in a world out to justify it's own acceptance.

On many occasions, I refer to my dysphoria as a form of PTSD. Which could be true too. I personally have never met any trans women who haven't experienced it. Some to the extent of subjecting themselves to seemingly endless painful medical operations.

I just went through too much error, in the "trial and error" cross dressing period of my life and, when you think of it, lasted much longer (so far) than my full time out and about years as a trans woman.

It's ironic too that I haven't experienced any significant public problems in years, so I can't justify the way I feel. At all. Perhaps I might as well just get used to it!

1 comment:

  1. I've said it before, and it still holds true, I doubt I will ever live through a day without having some reminder that I am a trans woman. Even if I were to have nothing but positive experiences with the outside world, I will always have some degree of internalized transphobia.

    Due to a couple of bad discs in my neck, I have lost the ability to do some things with my hands and arms. I have learned to compensate in order to do many of the ordinary things in my life, but I no longer can do the work that I used to do for financial security, nor can I play the drums at a professional level (something I attribute to having been my saving grace in dealing with my gender dysphoria over most of my years). My atrophied right arm and numb left hand are constant reminders of what I can't do anymore. I try to be positive, concentrating on doing other things that I still can, but it's difficult to maintain when I can't even eat a whole bowl of soup without getting fatigued and having the last spoonfuls drip more down my chin than making it into my mouth. It's not only frustrating, but very unladylike!

    I don't think I had any more of a choice to transition as I did to develop my physical problems. Interestingly, they both started at about the same time, and learning to go through my life positively in spite of each of them has been a struggle. Nevertheless, I cannot allow myself to see either as a disability - even if there are others who would.

    I think that getting used to whatever limitations we may have is certainly better than living in fear and despair, but we should never settle for giving in to them. I may realize that I can't pass as a woman any better than I can now pass a football, but I also know that I don't have to be defined by those things, either.

    We shouldn't put so much pressure on ourselves. Doing so only robs ourselves, and any others who may care, of who we really are.