Breakthrough…

Not two weeks ago I identified something wrong in how I processed my emotions. The last entry is about that.

For the last month I had been writing my thoughts, my feelings, whenever I felt anxious, or insignificant, or wrong.

Today I’ve reviewed all of that. It has been amazing.

In the past month I’ve managed to identify most of the emotions that make me feel bad. I’ve been able to label them. I’ve learnt from them a lot. In the end I came to discover how my feeling bad in my own skin, my lack of self esteem, was the underlying cause of everything.

I’m learning to control it. My feelings still hurt sometimes, but I’m now beginning to be able to control them.

The most amazing part is how everything fits. How everything makes sense. How I can consistently fix myself. And how I’ve been able to learn this mostly from my own reflections. I’ve had help, and I’ve read things that have helped me. But sometimes I’ve got an idea on my own first, and then I’ve seen it outside. Or at least, sometimes I perceive it like that. Probably it was all so mixed up that I’m deceiving myself a little.

Still, I’ve got this feeling of having progressed this far by myself. And it feels good. Very, very good.

I can learn from my own mistakes, because I’m willing to do all of the introspection I need. I’m quite honest, and I try not to fool myself so that I have not to bear with thoughts I can’t stand. I guess that being an accepting transexual person has trained me in this aspect.

I feel good, because I feel I have a mind that is able to recover, to regain balance. I feel reassured, I feel mature, and I feel healthy. I feel in control.

I still have lots of work to do. I know I will fall again, and then I’ll have to get up. But this is a huge reward in just a month.

I’m going to be fine.

Walls…

I can’t be touched.

Whenever I’ve been with someone, I’ve built a wall around me.

I’ve never let anyone touch me. There was this guy who was my outside shell in between. I was protected inside. He, he was the outside façade that made me appear attractive. Because I thought others would find me disgusting. I always thought that I had to keep the pose and try to act as I was expected to.

So I’ve never been relaxed. I’ve developed this habit of being another person whenever I’m with someone. And for me, it’s just mechanic. I don’t have much experience, but all the experience I have has been in trying to please others, while trying to act my role.

I don’t know if I will ever be able to fix this. I don’t know how to fix this. Maybe I won’t be able to until I have my surgery done.

In the end I guess it’s just a matter of looking behind the façade…

Sexy…

I was probably sixteen or so.

I was still at high school, and I hadn’t had yet internet access. In fact, I don’t really know if the internet had been *cough*, *cough* already invented…

In those days my imagination had already developed a lot of strange desires. And I had a taste for historical clothes, especially from the late 15th and 16th century. I guess I’ve always had a desire for covering my body as much as possible.

So I was returning home from school, and I was thinking stuff. And I thought of a suit which gave no hint of the person inside, kind of a strange armour suit that you didn’t need to remove in order to have sex. Inside the suit there could be a man or a woman, and nobody could tell.

And I thought of a place in which everybody wore those suits.

I found it an extremely sexy thought…

Sorry…

When you say something, you can’t take it back.

Until recently, I’ve never in my life talked about sex with almost anyone. Imagine being me. Not only being transexual, but also being bisexual and extremely kinky. On the weird side.

It feels lonely in here. I guess that, even now, my biggest fear is being alone. Not just alone, but rejected. Labelled. Ostracized. Being that weird person you must fear, because it will do bad things to you. Being pointed at as a pervert, as a sick person.

And so, I’ve never talked about sex with anyone.

So I wrote.

The plots were always the same. There was some girl who got the chance to experience that fetish she had, to become a extremely sexual person, confident with herself. There were lots of extreme full enclosure latex suits, lots of toys, lots of strange devices. Sometimes the girl kind of transformed, becoming more powerful, more dominant, and then she met some other girl who connected with her. Sometimes the starting point was the first girl being already into the scene, and meeting a long lost love that never happened, and discovering that she was accepted.

Even once I wrote about a boy like me, who met a girl while in school. A girl who accepted him, and was always with him while he became a girl.

And in those worlds, the girl never had to regret her decisions, because she was not judged for being who she was. Because she was just living her dreams, and she was lucky to find someone who shared them. In the end, the girl was always happy. She was never sorry.

I want to be able to speak about sex with the people closest to me. To do it freely. And not having to be sorry afterwards.

Pride…

So, you don’t see the point of this day.

Homosexual people, bisexual people, transexual people are not prosecuted anymore for being as they are. They can be as anyone else. It is just that it would be nice if they didn’t kiss in public, because it is gross. And it can’t be called marriage, and it is bad for kids to have two parents of the same sex.

It’s a good day to talk about gay rights. Because it is okay to be a man and love men, or to be a woman and love women. It is good, as long as you have a clear choice and don’t want to love both.

It’s a good day to accept who you are. Specially transexuals. Because that stuff of changing their bodies with hormones and surgery is weird. They should just accept their bodies as everybody else.

So many labels. So many groups. I’d rather not define myself too rigidly. I’d rather not put limits to who can I love. We’re just humans, and we feel like humans, and we love humans. In the end is just that simple.

We all are more or less the same.

So, until we all don’t understand this clearly, I really do see the point of this day…