Hi, everyone!
So after reading through quite a bit of this site, I've finally decided to make my first post. (exciting, isn't it?) And I'm sorry if this is in the wrong board, or if it comes off as a long (long long long) rant, but I don't really know where I fit on this wide spectrum, so I feel like unloading my 2000 word autobiography, to clear some weight off my chest and look for advice. Grab a mug of coffee, and thanks a whole bunch in advance for reading.
Anyhow, I'm a 19 year old biological male, and I think I may be transgender, or bigender, or maybe simply a crossdresser? Looking back, I can't say that since childhood I've had any sort of persistent desire to be a girl, but I also can't say I've been entirely focused on being a guy either. In an old photo album there's a picture of me at about 4 years old trying on my sister's princess costume for Halloween. I remember thinking "oh, that looks neat - why does she get to wear it and I don't? I wonder what it'd be like to be a princess." I had a big grin on my face iirc, and that photo embarrassed me up until now. While I was growing up, I remember my big sister was more or less my role model/hero. Being a year ahead of my brother and me in school, I always wanted to have the same teachers she had, and I was always interested in the things she did.
My father died a few months before I turned 8, so after that I didn't really have anyone in particular to fill that role in my upbringing. We were living in Vermont at the time, and any uncles I had lived far off in Minnesota or Montana, so my mom was left on her own to raise me, my twin brother, and my 2 years older sister. (She's an amazing woman, I might add). A few years after moving south to a more affordable house, when I began to progress into adolescence, I didn't really have anyone to talk to about sexuality, so I had to sorta figure it out on my own. Before I figured out how to masturbate, I remember digging through some of my sister's old stuff that we had in storage, because I wanted to wear her underwear. I didn't realize at the time that this was a sexual turn on for me, since I didn't know what that even meant. I liked the way they looked cute, and enjoyed how they felt on me. I ventured into her old panties probably a dozen or two times while we lived in that house from 3rd grade through 7th, until I learned we were moving to Montana to be closer to my mom's family.
Growing up, I didn't really care what other people thought of me. I hung out with social outcasts at school, because there was not much drama with them, and things just clicked better. I was (and still am) pretty complacent as a child. I often did what other people told me to, and simply went with the flow. When I learned we were moving across the country, I was like "sure, why not. It'll be fun in Montana. All 'Jesus of Suburbia' and such. Bring it on". I don't know if I was depressed as a child, but I strongly remember that I didn't cry at my dad's funeral, and that I didn't let it bother me at all, until about this time, when we were moving away. I think at 13 though, the thought of losing all my friends entangled up with the loss of my dad, and I found myself having difficulty sleeping at night, staying up crying often.
It was then that I decided to grow my hair out. I think this came along with my pseudo-depression, but also mainly with the powerlessness I felt. All my friends are leaving, I don't really have anyone to talk to, I'm moving to Montana of all places, it's like my life is ending, and there's nothing I can do about it. I started to believe that I had control of pretty much nothing, and therefore, nothing really mattered. so I let my hair grow out, and dressed crappy and didn't shower very often, basically becoming a bum at my school. Though I remember thinking "hey, if I let my hair grow out, then if I ever wanted to pretend to be a girl in the mirror, it'd work better." And deep down I think that feeling stuck around. Boy I had the ugliest hair in the world, (I later destroyed (almost) all evidence of it) but I didn't really care what other people thought, and I was being myself, I think. Back then, the idea of being a different gender wasn't really in my head. I knew I was a boy, went to school and lived as a boy, and though I was a bit jealous of some of my sister's clothes, I rarely thought of being a girl instead.
It's kinda hard to say I didn't care what others thought, but also say I was going with the flow. I guess I felt like I was transparent and hollow, and that the wind was carrying me wherever it wanted, and all the people were standing there trying to stop it, and direct my path, but I just sorta blew through them, sometimes doing what I was told for no reason at all, but sometimes strongly resisting for dumb reasons, or for perhaps much more complex reasons that I didn't understand. Ya know how tweens are, right?
Around sophomore year in high school I started to straighten up - I cut my hair, and began showering regularly, and blending into the crowd more, and acting normally. However, when I went to masturbate on the internet, I found I was being drawn more away from the standard porn, and more towards sissy sort of stuff. I really enjoyed seeing women with male parts, and the idea of physical change and stuff. I'd get off to fantasies about being turned into a girl, and wearing girl's clothes, and I always felt really shameful afterwards.
Around senior year a girl in my class and I got together (and we still are). It was a very normal relationship, and aside from the weird sexual interests I pursued online on my own, we made an awesome guy and girl couple. Sex with her was great, (she was my first) and things were good. However, as time went on, and we learned more and more about each other, I vaguely and cautiously confessed to her that I'd seen this picture on the internet about how 'you don't wish you were having sex with this girl, you wish you were this girl' - and that seems to have flipped some sort of switch my head.
since then, when I'd get off online, that's the sort of thing that'd do it for me. It felt really good, but also really bad, and confused and I was (and still am) concerned that I've screwed up the wiring in my head now. Anyhow, I told her that I got turned on when I wore one of her underwear, (we tried that once a while ago just for kicks, and she must not've noticed my erection) and that I wanted some pairs of my own to simply mix in with my boy underwear. She was kinda weirded out, but we got some soon after.
The strange thing though, is that at first this seemed more or less a purely sexual pleasure. But as time went on, I began wearing girl's underwear more and more often, and I began to enjoy their feeling and fit in a way that was more than just sexual. It felt right almost. Eventually, I'd wear pretty much nothing but girl underwear for the majority of the time, and I think this persistence started beating on her, but I didn't know it at the time.
I found an old pink sweater of hers when I was doing laundry once, and felt compelled to try it on. Again in a non-sexual way, it felt really awesome wearing this girly pink sweater. I wore it the rest of the day while she was gone, and when I showed it to her when she got back from work, she didn't take it well. She sort of freaked, and told me to take it off, and to stop wearing her clothes. This made the rest of the night kind of awkward. We layed in bed and sort of talked about it. "Do you want to be a girl?" She'd ask, and I'd reply "I don't know. I wouldn't mind it, but I don't know if I want to change like that. Why not we just see how it goes?" and she'd say "you said that about the underwear, and you're wearing them pretty much all the time now, so maybe you'll just wear girl clothes all the time and become a girl and I don't want to lose the guy I fell in love with," which really hit me hard. This whole conversation occurred in bed at night, both of us crying a bunch.
A few days later, after the tension had died down a bit from that, I came home from work, and she kissed me and said "here, it's yours" to the sweater, and I was ecstatic. I thought she'd come around. I'd been playing with the idea of getting some more girl clothes, so I spent a ton of time at Good Will, and finally bought two nice pairs of girl jeans. I figured 'they're just jeans, jeans are both genders, who cares if they're girl or guy jeans?' But when I got home and showed them to her, it wasn't good, and we ended up crying in bed again, her saying that this shouldn't be a big deal for her because she's really open minded and such, but that she simply can't get over it, and that she wants me to stay a guy.
It's just really confusing for me because since it seems to have started as a sexual thrill, I feel that really invalidates any ->-bleeped-<- I might be feeling. But then why do I feel so happy in a non-sexual way when I see myself dressed in girl clothes in the mirror? Occasionally I wish my man-parts were gone so I could be more comfortable in girl-clothes, and I think it'd be really rad to grow my own breasts, and do the whole HRT thing to feminize my face and be girly, but I also look in the mirror when dressed in guy clothes and go 'damn, you look good. Let's not ruin a good thing.' I've also been shaving my legs, and enjoying that wonderful smooth feeling as well.
Dressing girly and feeling girly makes me feel really calm and comfortable and almost euphoric, but I have to turn back into a guy when my girlfriend comes home, which really crushes me. However, waking up and dressing like a guy sometimes sucks, but sometimes is quite great as well. Not often as great as dressing girly, but good enough that I wouldn't want to lose it if transitioning was in my future. I also contemplated painting my toe nails a really cute blue, but my gf was like 'absolutely not'. We even made an agreement that I'd simply stop wearing girl jeans, and they'd just stay in the closet (ha, pun) to never be worn. Though this worked for a week or two, I caved the other day and that made her upset. I don't know if this is like smoking, and I should just walk the hard road of quitting, or if it's actually transgender like and we should both learn to live with it.
So really, I just don't know what's going on inside me. Am I a guy? Am I a girl? Am I both? I love my girlfriend very much and don't want to hurt her, but I also feel like if I'm a guy all the time, I'll be killing a part of me, but if I'm a girl all the time, I'll also be equally killing a part of me, and be probably losing my girlfriend and breaking her heart beyond repair. I often can't sleep at night, occasionally crying.
And lately, despite being a really nice and gentle person, I really want to buy a punching bag just to vent anger/frustration that's been building up. That's never occurred to me before this whole gender/girlfriend disapproval thing presented itself in my life. And when I'm home alone, I'll often shout along to really loud music. I think I'm really stressed inside, or something.
Sorry for the super long post, I just really needed to articulate my feelings on this, and where better to do that than here, I guess.
Thanks for reading!
PS: I'm also a fairly effeminate guy already, in the sense that I never kill bugs, I genuinely care about people, I'm nearly always happy, I honestly never get mad at anyone, and my coworkers tell me I'm always positive and fun to be around. with my slightly long(ish) blond hair, a girl at my work has even started half-jokingly calling me a Disney princess, which actually made me feel amazing inside. I felt the same way when a male coworker said "Hey, what did you do to your hair? It looks kinda girly today." - obviously he thought it looked strange and was telling me that, and of course I picked up on that, but at the same time it made me glow a little inside.
I'd also like to point out that I still feel quite comfortable as a guy, and dysphoria is rarely a thing. However though I'm past puberty, I'd be happy if my face/body didn't get any more rugged/defined, and if I manage to not grow any taller. (5'10 is already as tall as I'd ever want to be).
PPS: Again, I am so so sorry how long this is. It really got out of hand.
