i was venting to my brother in law about trans problems and he put it in a way that really touched me in multiple areas of my existence and self loathing about my body, but also about other non physical aspects of myself.
essentially the message was this:
"you are homesick for a home you've not known"
and hes absolutely right. i have no idea what it means to be a woman. i've rarely been treated like one (thank the gods for my partner), i dont have a female anatomy, and presenting as a female is something i, and everyone else is adjusting to.
i dunno. i hate a lot of things about my body, this glove. its hairier than id like, i have small hips, my shoulders are broad, my ass is small (for now), my voice is deep, etc etc etc, but the thing is, this is the only body i'll ever have. its already my home, whether or not i remember signing the mortgage or if i feel cheated in the deal; i cant just step into another, and so i have to do what anyone else would, living in a home they aren't madly in love with: decorate it. paint the walls. re-shingle the roof. change the curtains. keep it clean. only invite in good people. dont let people live in it rent free. dont let people trash it. dont trash it myself.
my point is, i cant "move". i know most ppl deal with issues of self loathing in whatever respect, and it doesn't make it suck any less when experience my own darkness, but i gotta turn on a light in the living room, open some windows, get some fresh air in, and make this house something i can be proud to live in, and that's where i'm at right now. far too often i allow myself to go to that place inside where i'm not up to par, and no matter what i do i'll never get to that "finish line" and its that headspace that makes all of this feel overwhelming and unbearable and "why me?" and "you would never understand" or the "i hate being trans."
i dont want to feel trapped and when i decide to allow the desire for a body i've never experienced to overcome the desire to make my own body the best it can be, then the only available option is to feel trapped because the fantasy i've decided will bring me happiness is an ideal that can only exist in the world of what if's. i lose sight of the present moment and the present me, this beautiful metamorphosis that is my emergence into the world as myself, and myself is sooooooo much more than what decorates the house i live in.
this isn't a cure for my dysphoria, but it helped to think of it this way, so i figured i'd share at the off-chance this would make sense to anyone else.
tl;dr: its unwise to be homesick for a home that doesn't exist outside the anxieties of the unknowable tomorrow. work with what you got, babe, its gonna be ok.
