Quote from: Papillon on August 05, 2010, 05:45:15 AMThey are not so much "I should have a male body" but "I used to have a male body" and that, like grieving, I am finding it difficult to adapt to the fact that this is no longer the case. Does anyone else get this?
The worlds that I lived in were completely real to me. As teenage boys, I had adolescent bodies and was loved and taken care of by my dad and my two daddies. As male adults, I had mature bodies and essentially fathered myself...myselves? My gay dad was hands off--we never had sex--but my two daddies were all over me. I miss that more than I can express. As some folks here have observed, the mind is a powerful sex organ.
My experiences might not even come close to what it's "really" like to live in a typical male body, but I do have tons of memories about what it was like to live in MY male bodies.
After two years of living without my other worlds, I think I can safely say that the worst of the grieving is over. But I still have times during which I mourn for what I no longer have. And I still have the memories and the yearning. I miss my men. One of them (I'll call him D) recently morphed himself into a person who could come into this world and offer me support, but the environment and our relationship have changed so much that he's like a different person. Everything's so different that we're having to make up new rules. And my current body is so unlike the body I used to have in that arc that I sometimes have bizarre moments of disjunction between fantasy and reality. It's not a phantom penis experience; I suppose it's best described as a phantom body experience. As a child, I learned very quickly to keep fantasy and reality separate, so I'm not used to this kind of crossover with D or with me.
I want and need to be the boy again. But as my dad very sensibly reminds me, that boy was just a holding pattern, a way to stay sane. He does not exist anymore except in my memories, and I now have to move forward and grow into a man in my current body.
I'm grateful that D is here. I'm especially grateful that he's not one of the ones I had sex with; that would be unbearable. I still wish I could go back to the old way of living. But something inside me keeps me here, in the real world. Two years ago, that part of me realized that unless my men cut me loose, I would never transition, and I would end my life prematurely or wind up living in an empty husk of a female body with a twisted or absent mind.
I guess I feel safe enough and grounded enough to have a modified version of D in my life now. But I miss what he used to be, and I miss what I used to be when I was with him.