Just need to utter words in earshot of someone who might understand, could also use a virtual hug... and perhaps a lobotomy if u can spare one (humor = my fav defence mech).
Confession:
Maybe 6-9yo, a swingset... I have a memory of wishing I was a girl. Why? My child mind: "cause girls get to have boobs n have babies, n boys have to work and protect the family". Wish I could shake that kid "wtf do u even mean?" lol.
Not sure if b4 or aft: had an older tomboy best friend, remember envying her... following her everywhere.
One day... a therapists couch... possible hypnosis... the memory is not clear. soon after total confusion as I am told I cannot play w my tomboy friend anymore. Did she do something to me? Do I just want to believe she did something to me so I don't have to face the much more difficult prospect that I'm this broken all on my own?
There is a part of me, a shard of my mind... that has been in total isolation all my life. A sad, lonely, and sensitive part. Careful, your shard is showing! Did they see? They know... omg they know!
Must have been 14: a pornograghic image... hit me like a revelation... a girl/boy. I still do not know if I wanted to be that, or get with that, I just knew I liked it.
Did the typical crossdress, girls underwear/bra here n there.
As far back as I remember, when I close my eyes during sex, I've always imagine myself receiving and never giving. If there is any disphoria in me... it is encompassed by the thoughts that "I could never be a pretty girl" and fear that I showcase how sensitive/emotional I am... ie show my shard.
Long beautiful curls, I got hit on by gay men quite a few times... but the thought of them touching me would make me shudder. If the mouth sound most associated w my experience is gay, ok. I submit. I'm the gayest gay that ever gayed. Still not attracted to men...
I shaved my head, perhaps in denial. Perhaps to avoid further confrontation of my self. Perhaps to remove the one feminine quality I had.
I have a wife whom I adore. The thought of hurting her, of her feeling alone like that shard of my self.... that is pain I simply cannot bear... even if it means suffering through the rest of my life fractured and tortured.
I tried once, to reconcile my contradiction of an existence. I let her see a small corner of my shard. We played dress up, she seemed to embrace it. But then one day I saw it... maybe it was disappointment, or a diminishing of her respect, or that she saw me as less of a man. And the little girl inside me ran and locked herself in her room.
So now I am left with an impossible math question. Try to re open that door + potentially transfer all my pain and loneliness to my love + potentially lose the only thing that matters <> keep trying to smother that part of myself to death.
Sex after all... is such a small part of love.
This, of course, requires no answer.
I imagine this reads pretty much like an a-z list of trans diagnosis checklist items. I know better than to ask. Really just came to cry these words.