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xx_gothaggot_xx[TW: explicit discussion of suicide and suicidal ideation]
It's been some years since i decided not to transition. I'm non-binary, AMAB, genderfluid if you will, but I've always felt most aligned with feminine forms of presentation and perception. My teenage years were a constant storm of gender disphoria; Dreams and daydreams of waking up one day and being a full-blown girl, of going out to buy new clothes, make-up, the first haircut I'd ever actually enjoy. In my dreams I saw myself as small, smooth, delicate, the perfect stereotype of what I girl my age should be. All my references of what I wanted to be like in the future were women, even though I knew I couldn't be like them. I was growing taller, hairier, rougher; I was becoming a man, and that made me want to die. I remember hearing a friend say he couldn't recognize himself in the mirror, and forcing myself to not understand what he meant, even though I felt the same. I've known my suicide method of choice since I was 14. I still think of it sometimes; That 8th floor window inside my grandparents' apartment. Her sister, much taller, 12th floor, also much closer, in my bedroom; It serves as a reminder. An invitation even. I would die if I fell from here, I'm sure of it. It would be over and I wouldn't be tired anymore, I wouldn't long for this life I can't have ever again.
I won't kill myself, though. For many reasons of course, but the main one remains the most unexpected to me. I don't mind being a man anymore. I fantasize about it even. The body hair I inherited from my father is rather cool, sexy dare I say. My height, a point of pride, an opportunity to help others. The low pitch of my voice, soothing, versatile, definitely good for singing. I've even been trying to grow bigger; It's been a year since I started going to the gym and I like my reflection in the mirror much more now. It looks like me, and it looks like a man.
Part of the reason for this change is that I found references for the kind of man I'd like to be. Yoiko Yokochou comes to mind immediately. All my friends know how much I connect those pin-up illustrations. They are my profile pictures in so many of my social media accounts (including here on Dreamwidth), I post them again and again, left and right, non-stop since 2020, when I was 16, and haven't stopped loving them since. I wonder if I ever will. A lot about them gave form to perceptions of myself that I've always had but couldn't connect to a male image. Seeing a man be strange, submissive, slutty, weak, scared and oh so fucking tired made me connect with him. The way all of this is contrasted with the traditionally masculine image of a man in suit and tie, it made me question a lot of my self image. It made me slowly, but surely, understand that I could play the role of a 21st century man but still feel like myself.
With time, other men joined the party. TOOBOE, Harrier Du Bois, Laios Touden, Edgar0119, Kikuo, biz, Phosphophyllite; Men who, even if in small ways and even if fictional, seem to get it. Men who seem to have an experience of gender similar to my own. It feels silly to admit that I thought they didn't exist, when I simply hadn't found them, but is it all that surprising. The definition of what a man can be is still quite limited, especially inside the conservative household I was raised in. Even when aesthetically defiant, feminine even, those same aspects I couldn't relate to remained. The dominance, the violence, the misogyny. I don't think I need to describe the ways in which even the most effeminate of fags feel justified to look down on women and each other. It bothers me. Morally, yes, but also I just can't identify with it, and it seemed to underpin everything about masculinity, in a sense it very much does. But still, men who aren't like that can exist, and I can be like them.
It's no coincidence all the fictional characters I mentioned above are created by women, well, almost all, Harrier is an outlier both in the fact he is partially written by men, but also in that he can be misogynistic in ways the others haven't been. Still, female-written portrayals of manhood seem to be the ones I connect to the most. Which definitely indicates the reason why I don't consider myself to be a man, not fully at least. My relationship to femininity still exists. It still saddens me a bit, the fact I won't be the feminine woman I dreamed of being when I was younger. Maybe it is just a case of me watching the TV glow and then turning it off, as the kids say. Maybe I will decide that I do want to transition, that being perceived as a man, however emasculated, wasn't good enough. But still, for now, this acceptance of my masculinity comforts me. I don't need to be feminine, not even androgynous. Even when I look like a man, I'm still me. If I become a husband, or a father, I'll still be me. With my wide chin, thick fingers, hairy feet, protruding throat and rough skin; I am and have always been me.
It's been some years since i decided not to transition. I'm non-binary, AMAB, genderfluid if you will, but I've always felt most aligned with feminine forms of presentation and perception. My teenage years were a constant storm of gender disphoria; Dreams and daydreams of waking up one day and being a full-blown girl, of going out to buy new clothes, make-up, the first haircut I'd ever actually enjoy. In my dreams I saw myself as small, smooth, delicate, the perfect stereotype of what I girl my age should be. All my references of what I wanted to be like in the future were women, even though I knew I couldn't be like them. I was growing taller, hairier, rougher; I was becoming a man, and that made me want to die. I remember hearing a friend say he couldn't recognize himself in the mirror, and forcing myself to not understand what he meant, even though I felt the same. I've known my suicide method of choice since I was 14. I still think of it sometimes; That 8th floor window inside my grandparents' apartment. Her sister, much taller, 12th floor, also much closer, in my bedroom; It serves as a reminder. An invitation even. I would die if I fell from here, I'm sure of it. It would be over and I wouldn't be tired anymore, I wouldn't long for this life I can't have ever again.
I won't kill myself, though. For many reasons of course, but the main one remains the most unexpected to me. I don't mind being a man anymore. I fantasize about it even. The body hair I inherited from my father is rather cool, sexy dare I say. My height, a point of pride, an opportunity to help others. The low pitch of my voice, soothing, versatile, definitely good for singing. I've even been trying to grow bigger; It's been a year since I started going to the gym and I like my reflection in the mirror much more now. It looks like me, and it looks like a man.
Part of the reason for this change is that I found references for the kind of man I'd like to be. Yoiko Yokochou comes to mind immediately. All my friends know how much I connect those pin-up illustrations. They are my profile pictures in so many of my social media accounts (including here on Dreamwidth), I post them again and again, left and right, non-stop since 2020, when I was 16, and haven't stopped loving them since. I wonder if I ever will. A lot about them gave form to perceptions of myself that I've always had but couldn't connect to a male image. Seeing a man be strange, submissive, slutty, weak, scared and oh so fucking tired made me connect with him. The way all of this is contrasted with the traditionally masculine image of a man in suit and tie, it made me question a lot of my self image. It made me slowly, but surely, understand that I could play the role of a 21st century man but still feel like myself.
With time, other men joined the party. TOOBOE, Harrier Du Bois, Laios Touden, Edgar0119, Kikuo, biz, Phosphophyllite; Men who, even if in small ways and even if fictional, seem to get it. Men who seem to have an experience of gender similar to my own. It feels silly to admit that I thought they didn't exist, when I simply hadn't found them, but is it all that surprising. The definition of what a man can be is still quite limited, especially inside the conservative household I was raised in. Even when aesthetically defiant, feminine even, those same aspects I couldn't relate to remained. The dominance, the violence, the misogyny. I don't think I need to describe the ways in which even the most effeminate of fags feel justified to look down on women and each other. It bothers me. Morally, yes, but also I just can't identify with it, and it seemed to underpin everything about masculinity, in a sense it very much does. But still, men who aren't like that can exist, and I can be like them.
It's no coincidence all the fictional characters I mentioned above are created by women, well, almost all, Harrier is an outlier both in the fact he is partially written by men, but also in that he can be misogynistic in ways the others haven't been. Still, female-written portrayals of manhood seem to be the ones I connect to the most. Which definitely indicates the reason why I don't consider myself to be a man, not fully at least. My relationship to femininity still exists. It still saddens me a bit, the fact I won't be the feminine woman I dreamed of being when I was younger. Maybe it is just a case of me watching the TV glow and then turning it off, as the kids say. Maybe I will decide that I do want to transition, that being perceived as a man, however emasculated, wasn't good enough. But still, for now, this acceptance of my masculinity comforts me. I don't need to be feminine, not even androgynous. Even when I look like a man, I'm still me. If I become a husband, or a father, I'll still be me. With my wide chin, thick fingers, hairy feet, protruding throat and rough skin; I am and have always been me.
