G-Lexington
Lex. Icon. Devil.
I have trouble understanding, but I don't have any trouble accepting.
I've never really been able to define what about me is inherently "male". Certainly it's more than the dangling bits between my legs, and I certainly don't feel being gay, or bottoming, somehow negates anything male about me. Being male is just such a completely subsumed part of who I am that I can't even define what it is about me that IS (genderly-speaking) male.
But as I said above, I understand what it's like to have something "not fit". It's a very small thing in my case, and it isn't that big a deal overall. But even given that, it was strange how "changing my name" helped. It was like taking that tiny stone out of your shoe after walking on it for hours. Yeah, I might have gotten used to it, but once it was finally gone, I realized how much more comfortable I was.
Trans folk seem to have something bigger than a tiny stone in their shoe. It's a large sharp rock, or a knife. It's not something they can easily suck up and continue on with. And unlike a stone in the shoe, it's not obvious what the problem is, necessarily. My three closest MtF friends all came to the realization in their 30s. It wasn't like they lived their whole lives thinking "I shouldn't have a penis" - it didn't work like that. It was something far more intangible that something overall was amiss. And it wasn't until they realized that they were trans, and they began their transition, that they truly realized how big and sharp that stone in their shoe was. And what a relief it was to finally start being free of it.
Lex
I've never really been able to define what about me is inherently "male". Certainly it's more than the dangling bits between my legs, and I certainly don't feel being gay, or bottoming, somehow negates anything male about me. Being male is just such a completely subsumed part of who I am that I can't even define what it is about me that IS (genderly-speaking) male.
But as I said above, I understand what it's like to have something "not fit". It's a very small thing in my case, and it isn't that big a deal overall. But even given that, it was strange how "changing my name" helped. It was like taking that tiny stone out of your shoe after walking on it for hours. Yeah, I might have gotten used to it, but once it was finally gone, I realized how much more comfortable I was.
Trans folk seem to have something bigger than a tiny stone in their shoe. It's a large sharp rock, or a knife. It's not something they can easily suck up and continue on with. And unlike a stone in the shoe, it's not obvious what the problem is, necessarily. My three closest MtF friends all came to the realization in their 30s. It wasn't like they lived their whole lives thinking "I shouldn't have a penis" - it didn't work like that. It was something far more intangible that something overall was amiss. And it wasn't until they realized that they were trans, and they began their transition, that they truly realized how big and sharp that stone in their shoe was. And what a relief it was to finally start being free of it.
Lex

