All I want is for someone to talk to.
Someone that understands and knows this isn’t some joke that I enjoy torturing myself with.
Someone that will put aside everything else for a bit of time and just answer my questions, won’t pity me, and tell me everything I don’t want to hear because I need to.
Instead, I take on everything on my own and close off my heart more and more as love in my life slowly dies day by day.
Being so hyper-self-aware is a gift and a curse.
It’s true that as long as we have something or someone to fixate our attention on, we can endure almost any hardship. We can wade through the filth that tries to drag us down. We can cut the limbs that attempt to bind us. We can overcome any obstacle that dares say we are less than what we know we are.
Love is the perfect distraction.
After seeing the therapist last week, I came to three conclusions:
- I have no need to return for another session. I do not have time for someone who hesitates at the word “tomboy” or cannot outright say the word “transgender.” He was a good man, going out of his way to understand and not offend, but his passiveness towards basic vocabulary and beating around the bush is not what I was looking for.
- I have become a master of distraction in order to cope with what I cannot change. The therapist’s belief that the source of my transgendered thoughts might stem from “unresolved issues” or “past rejection” caused me to dig deeper into my psyche to ensure that was not the case. All the major turning points and emotional trauma I have endured – the most noteworthy one being my parents’ drawn out divorce – have been rightfully resolved and put to rest. Any pain or frustration of rejection I have received are obviously still present, but were in no way connected to my gender identity (e.g. my natural desire to want to use my mother’s makeup & wear dresses like the girls I played with at single-digit ages) which existed long before either could have any real effect on my life.
However, I had no need to bring to light these thoughts and feelings brewing in me because I had various forms of distractions at different points in my life. Family, friends, various forms of escapism, fear, other people’s problems, etc.; all of it made it unnecessary to wear it outwardly in reality. The brevity of reality – having a career, responsibility, leadership, etc. – only became apparent to me once I entered college.
Guess when Meganekko Memoirs came into existence.
- A therapist that is willing to “sort out the emotional baggage” is not going to give me the answers I need. Yes, I accept that I am a very fucked up individual – aren’t we all? Thing is, I am more than capable of handling my emotional and mental state well and am not seeking out someone to make me better.
Mum was told the abridged version of all of this today. She didn’t take it well. Ever since she’s found out, my ability to be an attractive male has suddenly become important to her after years of never being called “handsome” or the like by her. I’m not looking for her to compliment me, nor am I looking for her to use my physicality as an excuse to be thrown at me when it’s convenient. That’s the last thing I need.
I came to terms with much of this after being highly disillusioned for nearly three days until I finally hit on the truth: I have been unconsciously distracting myself away from the girl inside me that I was (and still am) inherently scared of sharing outwardly.
I also will likely continue to be repeatedly frustrated that I am unable to live a life that can make sense to someone enough to accept me for who I am. It’s like being transgendered or bigender or whatever fucking-gendered is like another blemish on my individuality. All I have done to be a good person, to achieve great things, to be there for people who needed someone, to sacrifice my own time and energy…I don’t get why I should even bother with it all. Why should I care so damn much when all that results is yet another excuse as to why someone won’t find me worth anything more than just a “good friend.” Not to say that that isn’t worth anything. I just don’t ever expect anything beyond that anymore. By doing so, I avoid wrongfully displacing emotions onto people who aren’t at fault, avoid burdening people with my pain, and allow others to love and be happy.
Love is the perfect distraction…from people like me.