Womanhood, a denied state. It tears at you every single criying day. You think that in the tenuous refuge, the garbage collector of missing thoughts, that once you caught a glimpse, a most complete illusion of a satisfactory place. Alas it was as well gone, right before it proved to real or false.
And no matter what crude approximation laser surgery or other fancy hijink the doctor has in his sculpting hand, deadened flesh is all they can.
There is this recurring fanasy of a faraway land where you were born a woman and all. Peace, a sensation, that most soothing calming thing, a forbidden fruit guarded by a jealous and angry god, it would be a royal ticket to paradise.
And answers?
I can always draw up a little drug, a little balm that for a little while will make you feel compeltely fullfilled. But then comes the price.
You can think, black long hair, a presence, globulous masses hanging form your chest. A fold, a body and a handsome man behind you.
And this man knows about you and accepts you and cares for you and cherish you and EVERYTING.
He understand it so much that even if you did not look as you looked, in fact even if you looked a hundred percent man, he would treat you as woman, sincerely.
He would still tell you, hello sweetie, and smile at you and call you his precious, and never ever leave you. You know the whole nine yards. What is the point of of the other details? Everybody knows them and they don't matter, because most important of all, you could look him in the eye and you would know that he loves you, that he considers you his one special flower.
It tears me up, it really fucking tears at me. Becasue it it not real! It this maddening parasite, that pesters the hobgobled mind!
No more! I condemn it, my pathetic and floundering imagination for not allowing me to retireve into it, and live forever in the land of nod. You should too!
For this mind, for being such a awful and cruel master and not giving up, insistitng on pooping the party with the retorting thought, the remainder of the dream's fictionality.
If only my brain would snuffle itself out, stop existing, like a bullet to the head and finally say "You know what I don't' care. If this is it or not, if it is happenning or not, outisde, inside, all the same! Just be happy! Enjoy you fucking life!
And you know what. I do not see what is special about the real world, if it such a awful place to begin with. No pleas and no excuse will convince that it is worth it.
I think that only the one who is happy and whole can honestly say that, and so his judment is worthless. On the other hand those unhappy and unwhole, will say it out of desperation, sheer denial.
The truth thus stand as this, until the day that science can allows us to fully realize our desires uterus and all, we all will be unhappy.
My only advice then: live long.
Interesting...
We seem to believe we have a right to be happy but no where is it enshrined in law except as a throwaway remark in the US constitution because it makes a poetic flourish. Happiness is something that comes from within and is very often recognised in hindsight, 'those were happy days, or I was happy then.' Life is about living, about dealing with situations as best we can, often without the resources we could ideally use, but doing as good a job as we are able. It is these experiences which make us who we are, which teach us coping strategies, that build bodies and minds and enable us to make friendships, fall in love, make our fortunes and so on.
It is rarely ever going to be perfect, very few of us will have everything we want - and if we did, we wouldn't be happy. Life is like that. What ever we have we want something else as well or instead - it's called being human, we are by nature greedy and envious but life often alters us to accept what we have and be grateful for it because while we can see those who have seemingly everything, we also see those who have less. Sometimes we don't realise how good life was until something bad happens and it is taken away.
I am one of those unwhole people, who shall never have babies who will never be genetically female, but compared to this blog, I'm comparatively happy. My life has been better and much worse, but at least I am able to live as I wish in modest comfort being who I am and interacting as I am and grateful for what I have. Instead of ruing what might have been or what I'd really like to have or be, I'm playing the cards life dealt me as best I can doing something useful for others in my work and my hobbies and something that I also enjoy.
If you think life is worthless because you don't have a uterus, try being without a uterus in Aleppo - it might teach you about the real world and what really being worthless feels like. Be grateful for what you have and make the best of it, the happiness comes from doing it.
Angharad
If I may
The U.S. Declaration of Independence does not guarantee the right of happiness, but the right to pursue happiness. Many get it, but many don't. And I dare say that no two people's idea of happiness is going to be exactly the same. You have to make your own bed and sleep in it. Many such beds are made of the softest down and the finest silk sheets. Others may be a sack stuffed with corn husks and rough woven blankets.
I do not include the consideration of other factors in that pursuit. Your place in the world, your health both physical and mental, and your ability to reshape your world are but a few of the many things that impinge on that happiness. If you choose to be unhappy, then you will be.
I went outside once. The graphics weren' that great.
the destination matters, but so does the journey
you can learn a lot in the traveling, even if you dont end up where you wanted to.
Me, I will never even have the surgery, but I will try my best to make the best of my life anyway.
I hear you, but maybe it doesn't drive me mad because
because I've always had really low expectations of life. Being a woman physically, socially and every other way for real, and to have love and feel cherished on top of it? Oh it would be wonderful! But most of the normal human stuff like relationships never even seemed possible for me. I'm just happy that I'm not locked up in some LGBT gulag being beaten by goons with big sticks every day. Always look on the bright side of life (whistles a jaunty tune...)
What borders on pure insanity?
Canada and Mexico.
.
glad you feel that way.
glad you feel that way. I mean have you only the right to be sad when you are the person that suffers the most? Is that person whoever she or he is the only person allowed to complain only because he or she cannot be told: "look at a x, see how she suffers more".
I don't think that way, this might not matter, maybe if I feel sad, mad or just fucking about to lose it, well maybe it doesn't matter. And just because I am expected to shut up and put up with it then perhaps I should. And maybe I am a rotten person for feeling bad for myself. Fine then, I think I must accept it, after all it isn't going to change. So keep those feeling bottled theoneser that's were they belong.
Apologies
These are all excellent points, and I've thought them myself when some Pollyanna bitch offered facile advice to someone who was suffering. My Apologies. I was feeling manic that day and that comment felt like my solution to my own stuff. The last line---particularly insufferable when I consider it out of my intended context---wasn't intended as advice but as a bit of sardonicism, a reference to a grimly comical scene in Monty Python's LIFE OF BRIAN. This is why I delete half my comments five minutes after I post them, trying to avoid doing something like this, which I don't even realize I've done until I accidently offended someone. I'm a bit of a mess when it comes to the whole being human thing but I'm trying...
What borders on pure insanity?
Canada and Mexico.
.