Doubting Myself

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I wonder how many other t-girls go through this much self-doubt, or if it ever truly stops?

Okay, bear with me here because I have a lot going through my mind right now, and I need to try and make sense of it the best way I know how - by writing. I don't know how much of this I'll be able to get into text, or how little, and if you get lost along the way, just raise your hand and an usher will be along shortly.

Playful cynicism aside, I'm in a really weird spot mentally right now. I've come so far in such a short time. As some may know, I reached a 'final straw' moment with my Dad yesterday. Cut the hair or move out. I think he expected me to take his option. He doesn't understand what my hair means to me, and for years, because of his heart condition (Four heart attacks, two strokes. Five heart attacks if you count the one he had in the middle of open heart surgery the last time) I've held off on trying to explain it to him.

Like I said, this is complicated.

It gets better. When I was 17, my childhood friend, whom I modeled Crystal in Becoming Robin after, commited suicide. No note, no cry for help, she just put a gun in her mouth and pulled the trigger. I was so unbelievably raw for so long after that. I SWORE I would never do that to those I loved. The sad part is, I did it anyway. I committed social suicide by withdrawing from the world because of my depression, and my body consciousness.

But I swore I would never kill myself. Sometimes, I wonder if that's all that's kept me from it all these years. I've said before that I'm not suicidal, and I'm not. I just get contemplative about the what if's sometimes.

I think I want to transition. I prayed to God every single night, wished on every star I could find, that I would magically wake up one morning and be a girl, and then everything would be okay. It's what I dream of, and it's all I want. I don't have a spouse or children to hold me back, but at the same time, I see the suffering of my sisters, forced to endure far, far more pain than I have. I catch myself questioning, that because I don't share the same depth of self-hatred that they do, or did, you know?

For me, a lot of my problems DO stem from my vision problems. In High School it constantly felt like people were only nice to me because they thought I might break and shatter if they weren't. I had problems with bullies, but then I also had white knights, and black knights, who would rush to my defense, some of them genuinely because I was nice to them, and I didn't judge them. Of course, at this point the whole "Might be a girl" thing wasn't so much of an issue because at most, I thought I was just a crossdresser. I liked girls, therefore it couldn't possibly be anything "more" than that.

Granted, that mentality came from years of heated screaming matches with my mother over it. "Boys don't wear dresses." *sigh* What if I'm not a boy?

This is all just so damn complicated. Am I a woman? I sure as all hell am not a man. I WANT to be a woman. Does that make me a woman? I don't want to have the bottom surgery (yet). Does that make me less of a woman?

I just ... I don't know.

All I know is I'm hurting, and raw, and really confused right now. I've reached out to three friends here at TopShelf in private, in addition to writing this. I've borne my naked soul to them there, and now here, with this blog.

I'm writing this publically as I reach out to them privately because I want to share my struggle. If just one person can say "Hey, she's going through the same thing I am." and they seek help instead of suffering as I have, then my pain'll be worth it.

Signing off for now. Maybe things will look brighter tomorrow.

~A very lost and confused Zoe

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