Since I seem to be unable to decide where to begin stringing together my amalgamation of emotions and thoughts, I’ll jump right into last week’s therapy session.
…It was a train-wreck.
With last Saturday making this my fifth session with S, my mind decided to kick in its self-preservation mechanism for some god-forsaken reason amounting to 45 minutes of half-hearted censoring. I was even conscious of this happening half-way through. Yet, I was unable to unabashedly express my true thoughts to my therapist. It annoyed me, and it was less than fruitful for her I’m sure.
For the record, I can say that the cause of this was due to me planning to show her my previous blog entry. I have nothing to be ashamed of, but it’s not just about the entry itself. It’s that my subconscious recalled what happened the last time I showed a learned woman I trusted this blog in its infancy. This woman was none other than my Feminism & Sexuality professor in college. It was one of the first times I resonated with the truth that though my sexuality falls further on the spectrum towards females, my gender identity while writing in this blog is also, in fact, whole-heartedly feminine. I had sought after some manner of validation from her, but she had written it off as a “phase” I was going through. That crushed me, and those same feelings from that day overwrote every desire I had to be frank & honest with S as I have been the last four sessions.
I was afraid she would tell me again that all of this – this grand journey of self-discovery and acceptance of my own person – was just a “phase.” A farce. Pretty irrational, huh?
In the midst of all my beating around the bush, there was a moment of clarity where I opened up to her (and to myself). Vaguely, I recall speaking on my fear of not being accepted by cis females and, if I were to go on HRT, how much time it would take until I could comfortably be able to engage fully as female. Obviously, that’s not to say I haven’t been already, but you get what I mean.
S asked me to make a list of pro’s and con’s of what it would mean for me to transition. The irony is that I had thought of doing this from the very beginning, but never committed to doing so. After I broke through the blockade that keeps my psyche safe from emotional trauma & pain so I can continue to live daily, more and more reasons came to mind. The pro’s list on my notepad was long, while the cons were few albeit substantial and worth exploring further.
My biggest conclusion that hit me tonight was that I do have the capacity to live on in this repeated struggle between my heart, body, and mind. But the moment I let my guard down and can simply “be”, I loathe the fact that I am unhappy that I cannot see what I see in my mind’s eye. I can’t stand the fact that I have to continue playing this role that I don’t agree with at all just so I can continue to pursue my goal. I’m even starting to get annoyed when I hear my given name or someone says something about my lower vocal range. At the end of the day, if I’m unhappy and frustrated that my psychology is clashing violently with the physical, something has to give.
…I feel like I’ve said this very thing one too many times before.
I have been avoiding doing the research regarding MtF transitioning and HRT because I’m afraid I’ll see nothing to deter me. Of course, I don’t want to be deterred. I’m just really scared of how this could all turn out…