Just a heads up, this is going to be another "Sasha venting about how her life is unfair" post, so be forewarned. If you do care to listen/help, it means a lot to me
I feel as if I've finally finished "figuring out" gender, and understanding myself. I know who I am, I know what I am, I know why I am the way I am and I know what I need to change. And I'm all the better for it; I finally have a sense of security when it comes to my identity, and myself in general. Part of it has been the product of a few weeks of very intensive introspection. Another is that I've recently been helping someone figure out her own identity and help her on the road towards transition. She reminds me a lot of myself, and helping her has helped remind me just how far I've come. And I feel absolutely marvelous about that, this is a huge victory for me, being able to smile when people glare at me as I walk down a street and educate the people who don't understand who/what we are. Understanding is amazing, in so many ways.
But here's the thing: Understanding my dysphoria doesn't change it. I've come to terms with the fact that the constant discomfort I experience from my woefully incorrect body that torments me isn't the product of some delusion, or a psychological issue I can work through like I have so many other things. It's a (medical?) condition, and as hard as fixing the body can be, fixing the brain is far more difficult-i.e, even as I finally begin to accept myself, I cannot accept my body. It is simply-well, it's simply unacceptable. There's no reason behind it, no source material I can dissect, or at least if there is it's far beyond my very through knowledge of self.
And now, I can't help but ask why. Why do I have to be this way? I know why in the literal sense of the word-something to do with in vetro hormonal levels and early childhood conditioning-you know, biology. I mean in the metaphysical sense of the word, why must this be happening to me? Why can't I be cured of the itch under parts of my flesh that is a constant reminder of how wrong things are. Why can't I just learn to love my body like literally other person in the world learns to do? Why have I been robbed of the ability to not be judged by every person I see (which I don't mind) and be almost completely unable to find partners I am actually interested in (which eats me up inside)? Why can't I look at my junk without wanting to hack it off with a knife? I know the cause, that makes sense to me...but I still don't know why.
The genetic lottery screwed me over; it's that disgustingly simple. There is no purpose to this, it is only useless pain that I have to cary around with me. It's just unfair, and I know that saying this seems contrived and wrong in a world where so many are suffering over things that are so much more legitimate-people who are being slaughtered in Syria and Gaza, children dying of cancer with no hope of ever experiencing any sort of life, people who are never going to be any better than they are now. But it's unfair that I can't have the same things everyone else can.
I wish that I could have normal romantic/sexual relationships, and that like every other person on the planet I could look into a mirror at feel at peace without having to face financial ruin to get there. It's insulting, and wrong, and sickening. I've come this far on my own. Nobody has offered me more than a kind "good luck" on my journey, and even as I near the end of my ordeal, I am still alone in my suffering. Why should I have to suffer so much?
And I know the answer: There is no reason or logic to this. It's just my rotten luck. And I can't help but feel this seething rage at the universe for providing the precise combination of atomic particles to bring about a product that hates itself, or at my family for forcing these feelings into suppression and making it unattainable for me to have a body I can ever truly love, which blockers could have done. It's simply unfair, and I can't stomach it at the moment.
Thanks.
