Quote from: reallynotsure83 on May 11, 2017, 08:55:03 AM
That's it exactly! I have always dismissed any gender disphoric feelings I've had over the years because I've always thought that I wasn't genuine because I never knew from say age 4 or 5 but it's been gradual, such as imagining myself as a girl with glasses in lingerie in my late teens to say looking at transgender women and finding them beautiful but not in an "I'm attracted to them way" but "wow they're beautiful, I wish I was like them" and looking at different beautiful women but not being able to make the distinction and just thinking it was because I was attracted to the hot chicks!
Now it's my turn to say
'exactly!' Looking back now, I realise my enchantment and entrancement at seeing gorgeous, sexy women - staring lovingly at album covers, lingerie models and girls in real life - was not merely sexual lust of a horny teenager but the unspoken, unknowing appreciation of their femininity and my longing to be like them. I always knew I was looking at females in a more intense light than my friends but it never stood out because we were 14 years-old and raging with unspent testosterone - and so I'd tell myself I'm imagining it and that my friends are looking in the same way as I am. But I was never truly convinced - for a start they weren't as bewitched as much as I was, they'd look for a bit but not as intently, at every detail, plus they gawped at the obvious: the boobs and legs. I, on the other hand, would scope out all the other attributes: slender arms, lips, eyebrows, earrings, cleavage peeking above the dress.
For example, I had an album cover of a young woman in a slinky, strappy mini dress, with bare legs and open-toe high heels sat on the floor and leaning against a wall looking sexy but dejected. And I would gaze at her for the longest time with unidentified wonder, mesmerised by her nose - small, slender, curving upward ever so slightly - her shapely jaw line and chin, her painted toes peeking through her heels, the shimmer on her shaved and shapely legs, the delicate straps of her dress etc And though there was undoubted sexual lust at play I knew,
I just knew, there was something more pulling me to this image (and a thousand others). I could never put my finger on it and it always niggled me. I thought I was super horny or that I was just getting lost in the fact that women are nicer to look at that men, that they have the benefit of curves, makeup, nail varnish and skimpy outfits but I also knew none of these reasons - valid as they were - explained the full story.
And only now do I recognise the missing piece of the jigsaw: my identification with these woman and wanting to be like them. Even in my most dysphoric, confused and adamant-I'm-a-man moments, I know this to be true. I know now that I was seeing what I resonated with.
And now, in the past year, I've gone from looking at real girls with sexual appreciation to looking at them with jealousy and analysing their style, their accessories and makeup first and then - if at all - sexual appreciation.
QuoteThere's a lot more than that, but those are the moments that on reflection that makes me realise I can't just ignore it anymore especially seeing as how the thoughts are increasing, like worrying now my muscles are forming at the gym or hating my beard that my SO likes so much.
I hate to be the doom merchant but if you're at this stage then:
a) running to the gym and being all manly is only going to make your dysphoria worse.
b) you're going to have to give in to your trans or else live a life of misery (which usually means transitioning late in life, regretting you lost the opportunity to do it when younger)
QuoteIt's so refreshing to hear that I'm not in a minority who start to feel it this way.
I know, right!