Hi everybody, I've new here, but if it isn't too much trouble, I was looking to get some wisdom from the lovely people of this forum that might help me out. I elaborated slightly in my introduction post, but long story short, I'm currently attempting to get as firm a grasp as possible on who I really 'am'. I know a gender therapist will be a great help with this, but I imagine the the lived experiences of others must be also be as precious a resource as any. A few places I've seen online have suggested that a good place to start is to make a list of all memories, traits, etc. that have made you begin questioning in the first place.
For reference, I was assigned male at birth. Almost forgot to mention that because I'm so used to avoiding referring to anything that suggests my gender if I can avoid it.
...That probably goes on the list, I guess
(Apologies for this upcoming big wall of text!)
So, without further ado, I present what I've come up with so far. Any insight is appreciated!
1) Some of my oldest childhood memories are closely identifying with, or sometimes wishing I was, female fictional characters. Specifically, I remember my young child self wishing I could be the yellow Power Ranger, and even the female hyena from the Lion King (I suppose I might have had a bit of a furry streak in me at the time, but that seems fairly common). I can't recall ever feeling that way about any male characters. I've had male characters that I
liked as favorites, but never in a way that felt like I identified with them or wanted to be like them. In my family we would often play at assigning who was which character from whatever movie or show we were into at the time. I would often engineer it so that, woe is me, I would get "stuck" with a female character. This would become my MO as time went on; coming up with excuses or little deceptions to try to squeak by without being called out because I knew it was 'wrong'.
A more (but not very) recent memory that really stuck with me was around or just before middle school. My teenage aunt was living at my family's house for the summer, and we made it our thing to play the video game Resident Evil together. (Rather, she would play it and I would "advise" because I was too chicken to play, but I digress). The relevant point is that, since I was sort of her "sidekick", she began playfully referring to me by the name Rebecca, a sidekick character from the game. I have such a distinct memory of how inexplicably happy that made me feel. I didn't dwell on it, though, because it made me feel like a freak to think about it.
2) As a child, I always liked playing with the "girl" toys. This isn't super uncommon, I suppose, but maybe still worth including. It's not that I had no interest in the "boy" toys at all, but I always wished I had some dolls, because they were more fun. I grew up with only brothers, so it was a rare occasion to have the opportunity to play with them. It was generally when I would go to visit relatives who had them in the house. I knew full well that showing interest would invite endless mocking from my brothers and male relatives, so I would pull the classic "darn, she's making me play with them" technique.
3) When I got a little older and outgrew those toys I graduated onto video games. Picking female (or at least gender neutral) characters was comforting, but getting called on it so often was always a pain. What a wonder it was when they began making games with custom avatars. The Sims was essentially a virtual dollhouse, so of course I had to have it. The first thing I did when I got my hands on The Sims 2's (at the time) expansive customization was make the best approximation of myself that I could, then turn it into a woman. In retrospect that is... almost a little on the nose. I also spent a lot of time in MMO (Massively Multiplayer Online) games, where you could create your own character and identity. Living online as a woman through an avatar was (and is) such a catharsis. The game didn't even have to be good, it just had to have a community and enough freedom for me to express myself. I still play games, if less often these days. I still only make female characters. People have stopped asking why, and I get the feeling it's because they're uncomfortable pressing that issue.
I didn't know where to fit this bit in, so I'll leave it here since it's sort of thematically consistent. I believe this also took place during middle school. I was invited by my older brother's friends to play Dungeons and Dragons with them (yes, we were/are geeks), and though I didn't quite know the game, I went along. It's a tabletop role playing board game, which means that you act out your fictional identity in person around the table and use your imagination. Since I didn't have the safe comfort of anonymity, and didn't know the group that well, I created a male persona as to not arouse suspicion. As we went on our imaginary fantasy adventure, one of our compatriots discovered a mystical and mysterious armor item. Unwittingly, the person who found it put it on, and found his character transformed into a woman. The intention here was that this was a funny gag; a trap to mildly inconvenience you with a curse. You better believe I wanted that thing, but ultimately I could not come up with a convincing enough excuse as to why I would ever want it. I remember questioning myself more than usual. Why was I so disappointed that I couldn't have it? The characters were completely imaginary and formless. What difference did being a woman or man make? I wasn't even that invested in the game. But what a power the fantasy of that item had over me... I don't know. Even if it was just imaginary, the idea of being so close but just out of reach was so weirdly and frustratingly agonizing that I'm getting that feeling back just remembering and writing about it. It felt so unfair.
4) This one is a bit more specific. When I was small, I remember once trying to make a dress out of a bunch of towels. This is honestly just embarrassing to remember. It was under some silly pretense that I was pranking my brother or something. But the vivid memory I have of it was how pathetic I felt. I knew it looked stupid. That was the cover anyway. But I didn't really want it to look bad. It was just the best I could do with what I had. I really did try, but I was acutely and painfully aware of how woefully I was failing, and that there was just nothing else I could do. Ugh, this memory is depressing and humiliating for reasons I can't adequately articulate.
5) Anyway, moving onto more general things, I've always had an issue with self image. I've never made an effort to present myself well because I've always felt that there's just no point. It's impossible to look the way I want to, so why bother? I wear oversized loose clothes that hides my body and turns me into a formless lump. I do my best to choose clothes that don't call attention or get me noticed. To be honest, I just don't like to be seen. I don't like taking pictures. It makes me feel disgusting. I'm 5'11, and just feel like an abhorrent, graceless oaf. Appearance-wise, I'm in no position to judge myself. I've been told a couple of times that I have a handsome face, and whether they meant it or not (lets be real, they were probably just coming up with a random compliment), it just made me feel worse. I don't want to be told I'm closer to the ideal that they're probably holding me up to, if that makes sense.
6) I've had dreams where I was 'mistaken for' and 'passing' as a woman. In the one I remember I was on a cruise ship. It must have been a women's cruise or something, because in my dream I felt happy to 'pass', but simultaneously guilty, like I was deceiving everyone and was going to be found out and kicked off. That's what makes me so skeptical. The way my dream was framed, it was something I wanted, but it was just a ruse. I was a fraud practicing deception, whether I wanted that to be the case or not.
7) The other day at work a woman called me "ma'am". I'm not under any illusion that she mistook me for a woman out of nowhere; I wear my hair long, and I'm not macho, but with the way I dress there's just no way. She simply misspoke, and apologized. But even knowing that, it felt like I had received a compliment or something. But then I felt pathetic for feeling that way about someone misspeaking, so win-lose.
8 ) Recently, my mother received a gift package in the mail. It was one of those assortment box deals, but for clothes. She didn't seem interested in anything that came in it, so she just sort of cast it aside for a while. Since she didn't seem to want it, I couldn't resist. I snuck the clothes away when no one was looking and tried them on. I'm not sure what to say. I can't say I look the way I wish I did in them, of course. But at the same time, it was... maybe 'freeing' is the word? I don't know. I guess it felt like maybe, just maybe, if I tried my hardest and chose carefully, I could pull together an outfit that was just good enough. So, sort of like having the freedom to at least try to be where I want to be? Anyway, I should probably mention, this 'event' is when I finally decided I couldn't keep ignoring these feelings. I don't know what they mean, exactly. I don't know what I should or even can do with them. But I know that I can't pretend they don't exist forever, or even much longer.
9) Almost forgot, yes, as I mentioned at the top, I've always kind of been put off by using male pronouns. I've always hated hearing my own name, too. I don't do anything that would raise suspicion, like using they/them or anything. Just small things, like avoiding pronouns and saying 'person' instead of 'guy','man','boy', etc. I think it was around high school that I started to actually feel some resentment towards masculinity and all that that entails. Previous to that, I think it would be fair to say that I was jealous of girls, but it wasn't until later that I started to feel specifically like being male was a burden. I mean, I suppose I did always find it to be an obstacle, but not one I actively thought about.
The thing of it is, though, I never questioned that I was. Maybe it's just because I'm a passive person, but my thinking has always been that you are what people say you are. If people said I was dumb, I was dumb. If people said I was weird, I was weird. So if people said I was a guy, I was a guy. It wasn't something I ever questioned, just something I was saddled with. I guess that's where my main conflict is. If I never even thought to question if I was something else, how could I be? The most common narrative seems to be that of the child who knew what they were. I only had what I wished I was, but never believed I could be. Is that something else entirely? I don't know. I don't get it. I feel confused. And I feel alone. But maybe I don't have to be? I feel like all I can do is keep repeating "I don't know".
Sorry about that massive wall of text, by the way. I probably could have been more concise, but I ended up just typing up what I thought as I went.
