To post, or not to post – that is the question

I’ve spent the day writing a potential post about a VERY personal subject, and I can’t decide if I should post it or not.

Though this blog in fairly anonymous I still can’t help feel ashamed and embarrassed at what this potential post is about. It’s a shame I know is stupid to bear, and that no one will believe it to be that bad of a thing, plus it’s likely nobody will read it anyway. Still the thought of sharing this thing is making me feel sort of sick.

I’ve never shared this secret before, even though the truth of it hurts my soul, and makes the problem harder to overcome the longer I leave it fester.

I think it would be beneficial for me to finally put it out there (even if no one sees it), which is why I haven’t deleted it (yet!).

I’m just trying to work up the courage… in the meantime – enjoy my ramble 😀

*screams into the void*

xXx

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What’s reoccurrin’?

Over the past couple of years I have been having the most bizarre reoccurring dream.  First, I’m in America, happily married to a beautiful woman (so it starts off pleasant enough!), and we have a load of young kids together (again, all very pleasant, at least as far as I’m concerned). We live in a nice house, not too small, not too big – just what I’ve always wanted. God knows what we both do for a living, but it seems we’re doing quite well, and our kids are happy and healthy (the number of happy kids we have seems to fluctuate between 4 and 15 between dreams for no discernible reason, but I’m down with that).

Anyway, one day, out of nowhere, the sperm donor turns up at our door with his wife in tow (apparently it was an anonymous thing so god knows how he found us… oh well!). He tells us that since his last donation he got into an accident which has left him sterile, and asks us for his sperm back. Weird enough, right? Buuutt we oblige, feeling sorry for the poor man, and knowing that if we did want any more kids we could use the frozen embryos we just happen to have lying around some lab somewhere. Yeah, I know…

Unfortunately for him his stuff doesn’t last long enough to get his wife pregnant. Not our problem, you would assume, right? Wrong. He then lawyers up and takes us to court over the embryos. In a panic I have them all implanted before he can get an injunction* to stop us from doing so. Pissed, the donor decides he’s not quite done ruining our lives. So now me and my wife find ourselves in a situation where we’re battling a sperm donor for custody of an unknown quantity of fetuses.  Don’t ask me who wins, I have never found out.

Usually the donor’s infertility is caused by some accident (I remember one where it was a car accident, and one where it was an injury sustained in battle), but a couple of months ago a completely new infertility causing situation arose in the dreams – as if it couldn’t get any fucking weirder – the donor transitioned to live as a woman. Where once the worry seemed to be a homophobic judge siding with the straight couple, now me and my dream wife worry about a liberal media frenzy.

Like I said, I never do get a resolution to the dream, but events usually go a little something like this:

  • Happy family situation – like that feeling where you just know, ya know?
  • Suddenly talking to the donor
  • Give sperm
  • Letter from a lawyer demanding the embryos
  • Am suddenly pregnant with all the embryos
  • Wife is now suddenly worried about a foetus custody trial
  • Worrying about homophobic judge/liberal media frenzy
  • Wake up/another dream suddenly starts

I’m not into dreamology or whatever the fuck it’s called, but can someone please explain to me what the fuck this is all about? Because I’m fresh out of ideas here. It can’t be as simple as me watching too much Ally McBeal and Law & Order, along with spending too much time online reading about trans related shyte, right?

Also, should I turn this into a script…? 😄

xXx

*is that even how injunctions work?

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Reconciling a thing

Yesterday I started my first round of electrolysis. I’ve been wanting to get the procedure done for years now, and last weekend I finally plucked up the courage to go to the salon and make myself an appointment. The 30 minute procedure – which I have to repeat at least once a week until the hairs stop growing – was uncomfortable, but not painful (truth be told, the only painful part of the entire thing was the cost). The area I had done doesn’t look too rashy anymore, but is still a little sore to the touch. This is one of the steps I am taking in order to try and gain back my self-confidence, after years of being a lonely, self-conscious shut-in.

I’ve had issues with unwanted facial hair since I was a teenager, and have tried to deal with it in various ways through plucking, hair removal creams, and waxing. I even attempted to accept it, which I did for a while whilst in university, but coming home to an image conscious father who made me very aware of how ‘ugly’ it made me totally decimated any progress I made in the past, and reset my new found self-acceptance right back to zero. I won’t bore you with the details, but let’s just say I felt like a freak in my own home.

Over the years the effect it had on my confidence and self-esteem got worse. In the end it was like I gave up trying to get rid of it, as it would grow back so fast it felt like I was being betrayed and defeated by my own body. I would pluck the worst of it every now and again, but overall I only bothered to get rid of it for certain occasions (like weddings, etc.). The rest of the time I just left it.

It bothered me, and I felt isolated, until I went on Tumblr and discovered a ton of hairy GNC women, who were proud to have rejected societal pressures such as makeup and shaving, and I didn’t feel so alone anymore, at least in the grand sense. It was like they were saying ‘fuck you’ to societal norms (which I love!), and it was a breath of fresh air compared to all that libfem ‘femininity = fun-time empowerment’ bullshit. I loved it. It made me feel like there were people out there who understood and accepted me the way I naturally am. In reality though, I was still living among people who put a premium on a looks, and weren’t shy about expressing their opinions. Still, discovering these wonderful women did make me feel better about my own situation, and certainly gave me food for thought when it came to the political power of women rejecting gender norms.

Which is why I am a little torn about my decision to permanently remove my facial hair;

On the one hand, I really believe this will make it easier for me to live and move on to a happier life, where I won’t be plagued by well meaning, yet confidence destroying comments from family members. On the other hand, I am now on my way to becoming one more gender conforming woman (which means one less gender non-conforming woman – score 1 for the patriarchy), and I won’t deny that a part of me is a bit disappointed in myself for deciding to do this, as it’s sort of like accepting that I’ve been defeated by the pressure to conform.

This got me thinking; where will this end. We all know that as women we are conditioned to feel more confident the more we conform to beauty standards, so where am I going to end up now that I’ve started down this path? Along with the electrolysis I’ve had a haircut this week too (for the first time in over 2 years!), I’ve also been thinking about feminising my wardrobe, and about the way I feel on the few occasions that I wear makeup (no surprise – it gives me more confidence). Will I end up being a femme lesbian? Would I like to be? I don’t know… I’m still trying to work it out, I suppose.

I can definitely see myself becoming more feminine, because I like the confidence that comes with it. And I think it would actually give me the confidence I need to approach women, as well as put my face out there to meet women via the internet, which, btw, is super daunting! I’ve been on two dating websites before now, and deactivated both accounts within an hour of signing up (Okcupid: ‘so-and-so liked your thing’ Me: *shits bricks, deactivates account, sets laptop on fire*). Scrolling through page after page of beautiful women (and not so beautiful – looking at you ‘Italiancouple69’ or whatever your name is! Does that happen a lot?) really makes me want to join, so one of my goals is to eventually get my mug on one of those websites and maybe even approach someone on there. Eventually.

Anyway, I guess I’ve gone on long enough. Over the next few months I’ll be posting updates on my attempts at feminising myself…

Until next time!

xXx

2015-11-24 23.07.44

Spotlight sweats

I’ve had a Tumblr account for a few months now, and have recently started adding some of my own content (as opposed to just commenting on and reblogging existing posts), but the thought of having my own blog here on WordPress seems a bit daunting for some reason.

I guess it’s because I know that on Tumblr my own posts can get drowned out among all the other posts that show up on my followers dashboards, so there’s not too much pressure to actually produce anything of worth. It’s different here though, isn’t it? My posts will be all stand-alone-ish against their own bright white background. No cute puppy pics or cat vines on here to make the people who read my shyte forget said shyte 3 seconds after they encounter it. And that’s really quite scary.

Although…

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I should probably tell you at least a bit about myself and my hopes for this blog, I guess. Well, I’m a lesbian, in my mid-late 20s who’s just gotten out of ‘identifying’ as a libfem, due to some very persuasive gender-critical Tumblr radfems (though to be fair I didn’t take much persuading, as the genderqueer cult is naturally quite alienating to lesbians like me, aka: dick-inclusion policy dissenters). So you can probably expect some gender critical stuff on here from time to time.

Also, I’ve recently set out to change my life for the better by doing certain things to overcome my depression, lack of self-esteem, and lack of self-confidence. So expect a bit of that nonsense on here too.

Anyway, I hope I can entertain at least a few of you in the near future.

See ya soon!

xXx

P.S. That’s my cat, Flossy! You’re welcome!