I’m getting this funny feeling that somehow trying to be a girl is not all its cracked up to be. I guess for me the issue stems from what you want to get out of it. What I seek, seems unattainable. I suspect that there are as many motivations for doing it as there are people who try. In my case, I want to be what I can never be. For a long time I’ve swept the fact that I look more like Homer than Marge under the carpet. So what if I’m quite a bit big, ungainly and never in a million years passable. But tonight the ‘so what’ has come home to roost and hit me like a hammer.
What is my motivation to do this? I find it hard to say it out loud for fear of being mocked. But its not dissimilar to others I have read about: its being able to walk down a street with minimal fuss with as few people as possible turning their head. It’s that someone who I love sees only the girl that I could be and would love me back, even knowing that. That they would ‘get me’ in a way that no-one else does and that as well as everything else they would make me feel like the most pretty, beautiful creature in the universe. I know that its stupid romance and many, even highly attractive real girls don’t receive that precious gift. But against all circumstances, against all logic and against all realism, I’ve spent a long time hoping for it.
I’ve been going through a difficult time with my wife to the point where we could split over Rhiannon. Being able to be me, really me, has been such a precious aim that I’ve been willing to sacrifice everything to follow it. Willing even to give up a family for it. But then sometimes I look through reality’s lens and feel that I’m never going to get my dream. I know that looks are superficial, but how I look stops me in my tracks. And even though on the inside I feel differently from the outside, I can’t see how anyone would ever spot it.
This is neither a plea for help, nor a self-pitying statement. It’s a rambling that wonders whether a sacrifice is worth making if you do it and you still don’t get the thing you sacrificed for. If all you end up doing is hurting the people you love and still being alone, then what’s the point?
Today I read a book. Probably a mistake, but I found it heartbreaking. A week or two ago, someone had blogged that they had really enjoyed and been moved by the book, ‘Almost Perfect’. I downloaded it last night and finished it this afternoon. It probably is designed to be uplifting and I’ve missed the point. But truthfully it terrified me. It’s a story of a t-girl who actually passes, who actually finds someone who sort of accepts her, who started their journey young enough to be a long way on the road to transition before puberty and nature ruins their body. But even that wasn’t enough to stop her life being wrecked by this seemingly impossible dream.
Don’t get me wrong, I realise it’s a fictional account. But in the context of my motivation and my dream of going out without much notice and finding someone who loves Rhiannon, it might as well be true because it feels like it is the reality. I’m not sure that this post will see the light of day as I don’t want to piss people off or put people off. And I could certainly do without any abuse from offended people. But I wanted to honestly track my feelings here and if I can’t do that, then I should stop. On some levels it feels like I’m just taking myself too seriously, but it goes back to your motivation for doing it. For me it was never an easy thing to do, a passing phase, a turn on. It’s always been much more and as much as I try, I can’t escape that.
But to cut to the chase – it has honestly made me wonder – who am I trying to kid?