This is a pity party post.

Folks, I actually wish I hadn’t said anything in that class about me being detransitioned. I hadn’t realized how much I’ve used leaving this autobiographical fact out of my daily life to be protected from my own emotions about it. I’ve had a really hard time getting myself to that class since. My anxiety about what my classmates think of me is pretty intense right now. They’re sweethearts by the way, no one has been weird. And yet! When I walk towards the classroom I literally catch myself saying, out loud, “Oh no.”

I feel really tired at the moment. I need a therapist to process this with. And to give me guidance on having a dissociative disorder. I absolutely am scared whatever therapist I find will be unable to accept that I’m not trans. What’s WEIRD is that I am way more scared of a female therapist in this regard. I think a male therapist would actually get it right away. Female therapists just seem so invested in the defender of trans people/ midwife of your “true self” role. Also since so many liberal ladies fetishized me while I was trans the thought of telling this all to a concerned therapist lady feels more dangerous. I know most of you readers are women. No, you don’t feel dangerous to me. I guess because I believe that you believe me when I say I was having trauma symptoms, and thus I pretty much trust those trauma symptoms aren’t sexily intriguing to you.

I’m so happy that when I’m on the yoga mat I can work on this stuff without having to manage another person’s narrative about me. I am so, so, so glad I’m doing yoga. I am SO GLAD I stopped going to those pole dancing classes. I was trying to make a good story happen there that wasn’t actually happening. Well, I do think the checking in with my sweaty palms thing was helpful. And I do think hanging off a pole while sexy music plays is a lot of fun. But the atmosphere of that studio I was going to had a lot of girl-hierarchy¬† that felt like middle school and high school, and that was not fun to be around. Girl-hierarchy is pretty scary to me. The only thing scarier to me than being in a girl hierarchy is occupying the “trophy sex partner” role for the girls in that hierarchy. I think the reason why being cast in that role as a trans guy was so darkly horrifying was because I was running from all my sexual trauma with transition.You run from it, it will chase you.

Folks, I think I’m still fucked up from my time being trans. I think it’s less than ideal to be so scared of women. I know it’s less than ideal to have such anxious fallout just from sharing an experience in class.

And you know, bathroom stuff is all over my facebook. The macro-context I’m trying to get my head straight in is less than ideal. My micro-context is getting a lot better for my healing but let’s be real about how shitty it is to be going through this at this particular historical moment. Let’s just call that a trail-blazer problem, that will make me feel stronger about the whole thing.

Sometimes trans/queer people I know from California like an instagram post of mine and I’m like, “Wait, YOU still have a window into my life?!” Especially when they like a selfie I have this reflexive “Get the fuck away from me!” feeling. I blocked one of them recently, this trans guy who was an ok person, a fine person, nothing particularly offensive about him. But it’s like, ugh, I went through a bunch of shit and knowing you didn’t help at all, get the fuck out of here.

I turn 34 this week. I’m trying to feel ok about where I’m at in life. I’m trying not to blame myself for being behind. But yeah, I feel really behind. I feel like developmentally I’m where I should’ve been at 27. Which makes sense since that’s about when I started to really obsess about being trans.

At least Beyonce released “Lemonade” last weekend. That lady is a real blessing. I did a bunch of planking exercises to “Don’t Hurt Yourself,” and it was wonderful. POWER. My body is a powerful body! I am a powerful person! Even while the world whirls around me, I have a strong core and it gets stronger everyday. I don’t need the power-over bullshit, I don’t need everyone to agree with me, I don’t need life to be easy (especially since it’s obvious life has no plans of being easy). I just gotta keep being the bad motherfucker I have ample evidence I am.

(Sorry about using the word “motherfucker.” It’s from the song.)

When you play me, you play yourself. Try not to play yourself.

When you love me, you love yourself. Love God Herself.

God Herself does tend to give me a Beyonce album when She knows I particularly need it.

All I can do is keep doing yoga, keep listening to Beyonce, keep praying those rosaries, keep going to work, keep making it to class, keep off of facebook. Trust game strong as my abdominal muscles.



9 thoughts on “This is a pity party post.”

  1. I say motherfucker all the time. Your fears about women therapists might be true. It really sucks that it’s hard to find a therapist who will believe you that you are not trans. Also I think lots of 30-somethings believe they should be farther along in life by now, myself included.

    Liked by 3 people

  2. That sounds rough. I’m sorry you’re having to deal with all these trauma flashbacks (that’s what they sound like, I could be wrong).

    I had never thought about what could happen to a woman who previously thought she was trans with regards to female therapists being socialized to be more sympathetic to transing. Ack. What a mindfuck.

    I’m 58 and I mostly go around in circles. Lol.

    I think it’s really important for the process of people realizing just what is going on with transgenderism, to experience people who have detransitioned, to be aware they exist. There is way the hell too much silencing going on.

    You’re very brave. Stay strong.

    Liked by 3 people

  3. I don’t know where you are exactly, but I know a really excellent therapist in the Seattle area. Ok, she is a (lesbian) woman, but she is most definitely not of the type you fear. She has a lot of experience in body acceptance too. In fact she is one of the most outstanding human beings I have ever encountered. Let me know if you want me to connect you two.

    And I am 54. Very few of us live the life we expected. Life has a way of not following the timeline we imagine it should. Keep on yoga-ing, remember to breathe, and keep on keeping on.

    Liked by 1 person

  4. I just realised my post could sound like I’m going “Not All (female).Therapists Are Like That!” and I just want to say that wasn’t how it was intended. Also, it’s entirely up to you to manage how you want to deal with stuff. If that means no female therapist, then that is your decision to make and no-one’s to comment on.
    I just love your writing and your insightfulness blows me away every time. I wish I could take some of the hurt away.

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Yoga is just so amazingly healing, a nurturer. I would keep at it as it could be just by itself the way forward you need. Lots of yoga, and meditation/relaxation.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. One of the things I appreciate so much about your blog is that you can be both so certain and so inspiring and also so relatable and vulnerable, often within the space of one blog. I don’t think it’s irrational to have fears – whether about the class or about other women – when you’ve experienced things to be afraid of. There is only so much courage to go around, and sometimes we’re in a state where self-preservation is the better course, you know? Maybe that’s what yoga and therapy and writing are for, time for self-tending so we can be stronger another day.

    I hope you have something enjoyable planned for your birthday! At very least a pat on the back for being alive and making a difference for the past year.

    Liked by 1 person

  7. I’m very curious to know if I am the only female assigned at birth person who does not find Beyonce at all interesting and finds her music irritating. Does there exist another AFAB under fifty who isn’t a white supremacist and also finds this woman to be yet another femininity-worshipping, heteronormative pop star, not a goddess? Maybe it’s because of patriarchy that there isn’t an AFAB Prince, but I cannot understand the universal AFAB worship of Beyonce.


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