Over the past months I've been making very small steps towards my overall feminization (mostly habits), but I've been starting to doubt myself. "Are these feelings real?" I ask myself, "Do I really want to be a woman? How important is it to me?" At the same time I was having these doubts, I was beginning to fear that shame would be setting in again and that I would go through another purge. However, something happened last night that re-affirmed that my need to be a woman is a real need that will hurt me if I ignore it.
As I was starting to go to bed last night, I decided at the last second that I wanted to crossdress. Now, I share a room with my uncle so I find it very hard to ever get a chance to crossdress, so I usually end up sleeping in whatever female clothing I have at the time. Not the greatest solution, but it helps at least a little, and I can hide it under my covers. So before going to bed, I put on a pair of panties and a woman's undershirt. As I put the covers over me and tried to sleep, thoughts began to run through my head.
The clothes felt right. They felt correct. I began to have thoughts of doing this all the time, of being a woman in every way, in both body and mind. I began to feel disdain for my "junk", I hated how obtrusive it was and how wrong it felt. I hated how big my body was, how large my feet were and how broad my shoulders were. I wished I had never been born a man. I even wished I had never been born at all. I thought of a world where nobody cared if you were transgendered or not, and how if I lived in that world I would become a woman without a second thought. I felt the teenage stubble on my face and dreaded the thought of living with it for the rest of my life. I sat there and thought about my past, present, and future, putting myself into a fetal position the entire time. Why was I like this? What was the purpose of my existence? Why did I have these feelings? Why did my body feel so wrong? I was practically screaming these questions in my head, though they came out as only a whisper from my mouth.
This made me extremely depressed, a very familiar depression that I've had on more than one occasion, yet I had nearly forgotten about it. It was this morning that I realized that I begin to doubt myself most when I forget how tormenting the depression truly is, and it's true. I had completely forgotten about how last time I was depressed about my gender, I had gone so far as to pick up a knife and contemplate whether I should cut myself or not (I didn't), and nearly cried myself to sleep. The depression I had last night wasn't nearly as bad as that one, but it did validate my feelings.
I want to be a woman. I hate my male body, I hate wearing male clothes, I hate being treated as a man, and I hate having to hide it. I don't feel comfortable in my own skin. This is not a joke, it's not some whim I have, this is my happiness at stake and I need to remember that, because if I doubt myself on something so important, how could anyone else in my life take this seriously?
Sorry for writing so much, but I really needed to get that off of my chest
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