Okay, let's please stop worrying about the link please. It doesn't matter.
Quote from: Sarah Louise on April 08, 2014, 12:09:01 PM
FA, there are so many factors that go into our view of life. Things we have no control over.
Sometimes I have the habit of "burying my head in the sand", it hurts too much to think about my past, so I try to avoid it. Guess what, that doesn't work.
Your facing your demons, I'm proud of you for that.
Thanks hon. I'm grateful for the support. It means a lot.
It seems like I'm always doing this - trying to find out why I am the way I am. One thing that just keeps coming up this past year or so that I always denied was all this woman stuff. As trans people, it's only natural to want to think we're not affected by growing up the opposite gender. I feel like I'm constantly being chased by this ghost of a woman. I thought transition would fix it all. I mean, it fixed the problem right? Well, the identity mismatch, yes. But I'm still not fixed somehow. I still don't know how to live. I still think everyone is staring and caring mostly about my appearance. That I think is part of female experience - everyone does look at women more.
Part of it is a realization looking back, being used to being valued for my appearance so much that I didn't even realize it. Wondering if anyone - lovers, friends, anyone ever liked me for me. They said they did. But would they have ever cared or thought I was interesting if I hadn't been pretty? If I was a guy back then? When I started to realize this - I'm not sure how to describe it. It felt like a huge slap in the face. I suppose all trans people go through some version of this - difficult when we've been seen and loved for something we are not. But mine definitely seems to have a gendered component. It was like all my illusions were gone and I felt a huge sense of loss. I was afraid that it was all a lie. My life. Being loved for being female. There's something that just feels so awful about that.
I was so used to never being allowed by anyone anywhere to forget my body. Always being told about my face and tits. Always. Always very conspicuous and on display. Now this didn't hurt at the time. I was pretty numb, and like I said none of this ever bothered me before transition.
But even well after transition, I still am having problems. I can tell people are seeing me so differently. And at first it was so disconcerting but also really great. And I felt more human than ever. But it was also really raw and painful. Maybe it's just me. I think I'm probably too sensitive and easily overwhelmed by stimuli. I still feel like I'm not fit to be seen. And I felt this as a so called 'beautiful girl' too. I still can't even get up the courage to post my picture on my school website. Even though everyone else has and it's required. I can't take a video of myself like the other students. And I want to so much! But I can't. I wouldn't have been able to as a girl either.
I remember when my mom got me on at this modeling place (she was hoping to feminize me a bit) and me and all the other girls and I did this trial run for a commercial. I couldn't look as they played us back and asked another girl to tell me when I was on. There was this voice on there talking, and she said 'You're on now! It's you.' I looked up and saw and heard this, this monster I didn't recognize. And I never came back. I was literally terrified of my own shadow. I couldn't bear to look at myself. I'm still terrified of my own pictures, my own face. Ironically though, I now stare at myself naked in the mirror. Probably looking awful to most eyes, yet still feeling awesome!

I still have so many issues viewing my face though.
This is pretty much how I feel all the time, not the song but like a monster in a castle:
I felt like that as a girl too. I could never bear my own reflection and everyone always commenting on it, good and bad. Eventually I became a heroin addict and under the darker sky, warmth, and safety of it, even a monster could walk around. Whenever I would get clean, I would become a hermit again, rotting alone not seeing another human being for weeks, months until my mother would drop by and clean. The phone off the hook, the door never answered. Melodramatic? Maybe. But true. I don't know how to live. Maybe I never did. I should probably be committed, but I could never bear anyone poking around up there in my mind. I know where everything is up there and what's in all the drawers. All the ingredients, the hang-ups, why I am the way I am - but I still can't fix it. I can never fix it. I spend my life trying, desperately trying to rearrange and fix things up there.
(Oh god, why do I even talk about this! I'm supposed to be the admin here. You shouldn't be hearing all this)