Did you mourn your fake gender?

[Trinity]

When you dropped the masks, did you mourn your old persona, your old gender presentation or act?

Did your loved ones?

Mine did.  I didn't, and not all of it was fake.

[Leena]

I mourned the wild, long haired, slightly androgynous guy I was when I was younger. It wasn't entirely an act, and even if it was I played it fairly well. I had a decent social life, though not much of a career.

The fat, balding, lonely, boring guy I slowly morphed into in order to have a career not so much.

I'd still like to be more like the person I was when I was younger, but with boobs, and no facial hair.

[Von]

Slightly. I wonder if I had been brought up differently, could I have been a pretty woman? But I like who I am for the most part. I am mutable, ever changing. I can always be who I was when I want to be. I just can't rock the long hair anymore. It doesn't grow on command. Plus I still hate drying and styling it.

But I'm more confident now, without the boobs, and my T. I just feel at peace.

[Ativan Prescribed]

My seventies through the early nineties were the best, I was always out there on hair length, and just towel dry and let it do its curly thing.
Just a bit on the side of androgynous, the people who could see it knew and I knew them as well, they were locked into the binary matrix like most everyone was.
Always more fit than the other people, never fat, always able to do the long hikes and that, I had lots of time camping and doing the tourist trails.
Because I was pushing the androgynous edge, woman seemed to like that and I had no problems there, in all those years, only one that lasted over six months and most were just one nighters or fuck buddies.
Wild times, had the money and jobs, I was never a part of society that was the accepted, I was just on the edge enough to not be too noticeable unless you actually looked.
If I could do those years over, I'd pretty much do them the same way, life was good.
So I do mourn that, but because I wasn't as straight as most people thought, I had another side to my life that not many other people would dare and trust me, most do, just ask them for an honest answer, most everyone wants to take a walk on the wild side every so often, and you'd be surprised at how many and who.

[ceremony]

My body has been a source of intense agony over the decades. I'm not sure if anyone here has discussed what Body Dysmorphic Disorder is? There is a spectrum of it, just like non-binary. I've found very little is really being done toward therapies to help with this. Mine isn't about my face, though, now that I'm old, it could go that way, but isn't. The spectrum of that disorder is hard to describe, and it gets personal. I've thought my slight build, more femme, and bullied horribly is because of those, and was the reason for me to isolate and be hyper vigilant about anything that would expose my body. The other males I had contact with in middle and high school didn't want to be with me, and neither did most of the girls. I was an outsider anyway, living with my mom until 15 and moving all the time, and then with my dad for about 2 years. I ran away from that situation in late 1978. I went back to see what mom had in store for me, it was to be put in some place and then let go to live on my own 2 months before my 18th birthday, and without a senior year in high school. I don't think the school mattered, I got my GED, and didn't care. I had no friends, knew no one my age, and didn't want to. I thought older adults (30's-40's) would be less likely to care what I looked like, presented as, or behaved. I wanted isolation, away from the degradation's about my looks. I was so skinny, and no facial hair, and to me, it seemed I was still 12, but in a taller body. That youth look made a target.

In time I was propositioned, and too ignorant of life to know it had happened. I was thought to be gay, and to me, I wasn't, and to this day, I don't think I am. I'm not worried if I've been wrong. I'm finding me now. Those early years, when others seemed to force what I was onto me, to shape my sense of how I looked to others was to be disdained, and it stayed with me for decades. That coupled with the BDD I mention in the beginning of this, with depression and anxiety, that hyper vigilance from a bad trauma, and so on, my youth was messed up. That translated to being unable to know much about whom I was, but that I could have a purpose to bow out of my life, in order to be of some purpose in whomever I knew. My life and needs didn't matter any more, it was what others needed, and how could I be of service. That's where I got any self esteem, and I'm betting you all know how unhealthy that had been. 

There were two windows, both in my 20's, which opened up some ideas about what I would have as a sense of self. I still wasn't important enough to take care of myself, I still had to take care of someone else. It's not easy to hide that, in a way that I thought it wouldn't seem like I was doing it for self esteem. I knew it in time, and it caused me a lot of stress. My early 20's I got married at 23 a month shy of 24. I'm still with her(not such a good thing), we've had 2 kids, 19 yrs apart. A lot of turmoil with her, 90+% of her making. I plan to stay estranged in our house, to raise our last child through school. Not likely college, I don't believe in miracles. In my later 20's I was befriended by a gay man and a bi man. These two played a role in opening my eyes to life and opportunity. I had found some sense of purpose beyond being of service to a few. I thought advocacy was a good thing, and I still do that, and then I desired to be good at something. I didn't achieve that well. My struggle with having an income to pay the bills has weighed everything down, and my wife hates me about that, though I've remained faithful. I didn't know at the time we met, that I had suffered so greatly from that horrid trauma age 16, some lesser trauma, and then the bullying trauma. These added up to form a lot of my self image, and that had become self loathing.


I tried to seek some help, but the counseling/therapist profession was useless to me. There were no words for me, no internet to browse for ideas, and the library books I researched had very little information about what I thought were my problems. BDD became my obsession, a constant, and daily obsession. I had to hide what my body presented, and whatever it was that I was. I had to present as a husband, and in very short time, as a father. I had to be what my father wasn't around to teach me, and wonder what a wives were like, because my mother wasn't any kind of role model at all. She was never around, working to keep us going. Poverty in the suburbs is weird, you see peers have things, and not have had any idea those things existed. Going out where I might be exposed to society and things didn't happen, just getting by, day after day. There were short breaks to visit relatives and once in awhile some event. It was so confusing to have no clue what others lives were like, and I thought I was a freak. There were no words to describe how I thought, and no professional had any care to add words to my vocabulary where I could process and consider any new words. I went along like that, being oblivious to what others lives were like until maybe age 40, and that year I got sober. 

almost 2 decades later, age 57 and 11/12th months, I had had enough therapy where there is a new vocabulary, and I can read so much online, and interact with trauma victims like myself, that the layers of me opened up. And I like that, a flower metaphor, I've bloomed. 

I do regret not knowing, and those lost decades, too many terrible and adrift. I didn't have words to describe the sense of my persona, my identity wasn't a thing, there was nothing about this anywhere. I'm a newbie, but well on my way with therapy. Those traumas have had a lot of work, and I move forward. However, the BDD was a sticking point. I had no way to stop obsessing about my body. That's BDD, that obsession about what part is so offensive to oneself. It's somewhat like dysphoria, but it's not. I didn't sense I'm the wrong gender, I sensed I wasn't really among the genders. I didn't fit, and had been rejected, except my wife. That is a long story about my wife, and not a good one. I'm not going there. I want to see what anyone else here has thought about BDD, or if anyone else has had some spectrum of it? Facial BDD is the most common, and that one can be debilitating too. Mine has been, though not facial. Nothing was working on some kind of deprogramming therapy recommended. That therapy, if that's what it is, was to immerse myself in my fear and obsession, and take small steps doing it. I still can't, it's too hard. However, the panic and self hate were relieved when I saw the part of me that was missing, and we love whom that is. I'm so non-binary, it makes me want to cry with joy.

Isn't it fabulous there are words and others whom have used them, so that newbies can know we're knowing our truth. I am so joyful, it's really a crying moment. The tears that are needed to grieve and know relief. Isn't it wonderful, of course it is. 

[Becky]

What I mourn is that I had to grow up in complete ignorance of trans and non-binary identities. I knew I was different, but I didn't know why. I knew that nearly every social interaction I had was incredibly awkward, but didn't know why. I knew that every girl I dated loved how sensitive and emotional I was, but dropped me like a hot potato when they realized I didn't have any "strong male" attrributes.

I mourn that I didn't even know enough to tell my parents that something was off, although I can't imagine what they would have said or done if I did.

I just know that all of that ignorance made me bottle the dark feelings deep inside and develop a funny, chummy mask to cover things up and make friends. And now, I'm forty-fucking-six with a wife and a son, and I can't shove down this urge to transition anymore. I'm not in a place to do that, and so I mourn. There's a woman who may never be born, and that's incredibly sad.

[Trinity]

Sept 17, 2019 10:02:20 GMT 8 ceremony said:

My body has been a source of intense agony over the decades. I'm not sure if anyone here has discussed what Body Dysmorphic Disorder is? There is a spectrum of it, just like non-binary. I've found very little is really being done toward therapies to help with this. Mine isn't about my face, though, now that I'm old, it could go that way, but isn't. The spectrum of that disorder is hard to describe, and it gets personal. I've thought my slight build, more femme, and bullied horribly is because of those, and was the reason for me to isolate and be hyper vigilant about anything that would expose my body. The other males I had contact with in middle and high school didn't want to be with me, and neither did most of the girls. I was an outsider anyway, living with my mom until 15 and moving all the time, and then with my dad for about 2 years. I ran away from that situation in late 1978. I went back to see what mom had in store for me, it was to be put in some place and then let go to live on my own 2 months before my 18th birthday, and without a senior year in high school. I don't think the school mattered, I got my GED, and didn't care. I had no friends, knew no one my age, and didn't want to. I thought older adults (30's-40's) would be less likely to care what I looked like, presented as, or behaved. I wanted isolation, away from the degradation's about my looks. I was so skinny, and no facial hair, and to me, it seemed I was still 12, but in a taller body. That youth look made a target.

In time I was propositioned, and too ignorant of life to know it had happened. I was thought to be gay, and to me, I wasn't, and to this day, I don't think I am. I'm not worried if I've been wrong. I'm finding me now. Those early years, when others seemed to force what I was onto me, to shape my sense of how I looked to others was to be disdained, and it stayed with me for decades. That coupled with the BDD I mention in the beginning of this, with depression and anxiety, that hyper vigilance from a bad trauma, and so on, my youth was messed up. That translated to being unable to know much about whom I was, but that I could have a purpose to bow out of my life, in order to be of some purpose in whomever I knew. My life and needs didn't matter any more, it was what others needed, and how could I be of service. That's where I got any self esteem, and I'm betting you all know how unhealthy that had been. 

There were two windows, both in my 20's, which opened up some ideas about what I would have as a sense of self. I still wasn't important enough to take care of myself, I still had to take care of someone else. It's not easy to hide that, in a way that I thought it wouldn't seem like I was doing it for self esteem. I knew it in time, and it caused me a lot of stress. My early 20's I got married at 23 a month shy of 24. I'm still with her(not such a good thing), we've had 2 kids, 19 yrs apart. A lot of turmoil with her, 90+% of her making. I plan to stay estranged in our house, to raise our last child through school. Not likely college, I don't believe in miracles. In my later 20's I was befriended by a gay man and a bi man. These two played a role in opening my eyes to life and opportunity. I had found some sense of purpose beyond being of service to a few. I thought advocacy was a good thing, and I still do that, and then I desired to be good at something. I didn't achieve that well. My struggle with having an income to pay the bills has weighed everything down, and my wife hates me about that, though I've remained faithful. I didn't know at the time we met, that I had suffered so greatly from that horrid trauma age 16, some lesser trauma, and then the bullying trauma. These added up to form a lot of my self image, and that had become self loathing.


I tried to seek some help, but the counseling/therapist profession was useless to me. There were no words for me, no internet to browse for ideas, and the library books I researched had very little information about what I thought were my problems. BDD became my obsession, a constant, and daily obsession. I had to hide what my body presented, and whatever it was that I was. I had to present as a husband, and in very short time, as a father. I had to be what my father wasn't around to teach me, and wonder what a wives were like, because my mother wasn't any kind of role model at all. She was never around, working to keep us going. Poverty in the suburbs is weird, you see peers have things, and not have had any idea those things existed. Going out where I might be exposed to society and things didn't happen, just getting by, day after day. There were short breaks to visit relatives and once in awhile some event. It was so confusing to have no clue what others lives were like, and I thought I was a freak. There were no words to describe how I thought, and no professional had any care to add words to my vocabulary where I could process and consider any new words. I went along like that, being oblivious to what others lives were like until maybe age 40, and that year I got sober. 

almost 2 decades later, age 57 and 11/12th months, I had had enough therapy where there is a new vocabulary, and I can read so much online, and interact with trauma victims like myself, that the layers of me opened up. And I like that, a flower metaphor, I've bloomed. 

I do regret not knowing, and those lost decades, too many terrible and adrift. I didn't have words to describe the sense of my persona, my identity wasn't a thing, there was nothing about this anywhere. I'm a newbie, but well on my way with therapy. Those traumas have had a lot of work, and I move forward. However, the BDD was a sticking point. I had no way to stop obsessing about my body. That's BDD, that obsession about what part is so offensive to oneself. It's somewhat like dysphoria, but it's not. I didn't sense I'm the wrong gender, I sensed I wasn't really among the genders. I didn't fit, and had been rejected, except my wife. That is a long story about my wife, and not a good one. I'm not going there. I want to see what anyone else here has thought about BDD, or if anyone else has had some spectrum of it? Facial BDD is the most common, and that one can be debilitating too. Mine has been, though not facial. Nothing was working on some kind of deprogramming therapy recommended. That therapy, if that's what it is, was to immerse myself in my fear and obsession, and take small steps doing it. I still can't, it's too hard. However, the panic and self hate were relieved when I saw the part of me that was missing, and we love whom that is. I'm so non-binary, it makes me want to cry with joy.

Isn't it fabulous there are words and others whom have used them, so that newbies can know we're knowing our truth. I am so joyful, it's really a crying moment. The tears that are needed to grieve and know relief. Isn't it wonderful, of course it is. 

I have acute physical dysphoria, but not bdd.  So because i am nb i can relate, yet, i dont have experience with bdd.

But i sure as heck do with pain, bullying and trauma.

This is a safe place.  Share your heart out.  We hear you.

[Ativan Prescribed]

Ceremony, and anyone else who has a story to tell and is looking for an answer...,
This is very much the major thing with this forum, everyone has their story to tell and you might not see it unless you really dig into the old posts of most people here.
There is a core group who came here from another forum that treated us like dirt, it's the reason this forum is here, our new place to be.
But over the years, a lot of people come and go, and the usual who are posting have told the stories so many times we just don't elaborate on it that much, but it is the underlying thing behind the stuff we do post.
There is a lot of what you call BDD, and dysphoria is interchangeable with that, and there are degrees of it and certainly everyone is different.
I got a ton of shit in high school, but I also took the initiative and fought back, a lot of things went down.
The years right after were pretty much like the training days that I need to survive the next chapter in life, and then things took off in ways that were pretty good.
But the crapola from the school years still sticks to a degree, but I fight back with it and I don't let it bother me like it used to anymore.
The way I see most peoples eventual dealing with it is to simply get so sick of it they fight back, get a screw it attitude and won't let society dictate their lives anymore.
While there is a lot of therapy and I've had my share of it, the end result is a constant pushback against what society says we should be, it was society that caused the problems and it takes skipping past their crap to be able to just live our lives.
There is a lot of stuff in the early years here that most people have talked about, and the core group like I said has told the story many times and it is still there, just pushed back enough that we can subjectively deal with it all.
Don't be shy about what you want to know or talk about, start new threads, if you want to really use the people here to take you out of the bad in your life by their experience, just talk about it, make the threads and don't be afraid to just post what you want.
We might have been there and done that, but reality is, we are still doing that, and everyone is to one degree or another, this is the place to find the answers to questions, to say what you want, to express yourself as who you truly are.

[Trinity]

Sept 17, 2019 10:14:56 GMT 8 Becky said:

What I mourn is that I had to grow up in complete ignorance of trans and non-binary identities. I knew I was different, but I didn't know why. I knew that nearly every social interaction I had was incredibly awkward, but didn't know why. I knew that every girl I dated loved how sensitive and emotional I was, but dropped me like a hot potato when they realized I didn't have any "strong male" attrributes.

I mourn that I didn't even know enough to tell my parents that something was off, although I can't imagine what they would have said or done if I did.

I just know that all of that ignorance made me bottle the dark feelings deep inside and develop a funny, chummy mask to cover things up and make friends. And now, I'm forty-fucking-six with a wife and a son, and I can't shove down this urge to transition anymore. I'm not in a place to do that, and so I mourn. There's a woman who may never be born, and that's incredibly sad.

There are paths and compromises and all kinds of ways forward through the dark forest.

The regrets of the past, and I have many, can take us out or they can spur us on.  But they color decisions we make.

Masks get dropped, as the years go by they get heavier, harder to carry.  

Perhaps there is a woman that may never be born, perhaps you are binary trans, or not, but its pretty clear that you have gender dysphoria and that's not an easy cross to carry.  And to carry it, you need help, just as the One who carried His fell and needed help too, and it was interesting who it was that did that for Him.

But perhaps it is fear and fear of consequences caused by the "matrix" that holds you back, empowered by social hate and construct and the need for food on the table and being a father to a child and a husband to a loving wife.

You already have come a long way, shaved body, painted nails, thats coming quite far.  But its not living socially female, and that freedom isn't something that everyone that is trans gets to do (or the flip side for the afab).  

There are balances to find, adjustments to make, and over time, the bar goes higher, or the fulcrum moves a little more off the center, depending on what you need in order to survive dysphoria.

Gratitude for the moments of freedom, and constructed down time to be your true self with your hair down, becomes  more important over time.  And social outlets for it.

This may be a goal, and dishonesty is a relationship killer so its something to work out in communication, and a good gender therapist can help you avoid the landmines that can only be discovered in one to one conversation with a professional that knows the game and how its played to win the entire prize.  And that prize is living your truth and keeping it all together.  Its not a prize everyone can win, not by any means, but its a prize that some people do win, and whether you are one of them, is in the hands of your God.  

I would rest in that, since you are a person of faith,  and understand that its worth the process, but on a daily basis, in the moment, finding what you can to nurture who you are is essential.

You can dress me in a suit and tie, you can put a beard on me, but you know what you have when you do that?

An NB transsperson, full transition and sh'e, wearing a suit and tie and a beard.  It has no impact on who I am, it only affects how I am percieved.  But if it affects how I percieve myself, it can hurt.

Labels can go to hell where they came from, its about finding whatever can make you comfortable in this moment, and living that comfort to the max, or finding ways of hope to look forward to getting there.  Its when hope dies, that we die, and you are far from hopeless.

Hang in there honey.