Thoughts

I've always thought I didn't care what people thought, but it seems like the further I get from the 'nest' of my caring, unbiased family where a girl is treated the same as a boy, the more I realise that I care what they think when it affects how they treat me. I must transition to be treated correctly, for people to expect the correct things of me; sometimes I wonder if by doing this I'm perpetuating the lie of gender, but it's driving me mad, this casual sexism on both sides, girls want to talk about babies, guys want to talk about football. It's all a lie, yet, it is true that I am a fighter, a protector, a builder of technical things, not a carer, a nester, a builder of relationships.

Fitness

So my goal at the moment is fitness (and trying to decide who to ask to witness my deed poll) as podge and bingo wings, pre-T, are generally in the wrong places for a podgy bloke.

Yesterday my friend Becky was talking about 'bingo wings' which is a term I've never heard before but is HILARIOUS and apt. I happen to have a lovely pair of wibbly wings, which are not a very masculine feature imo! I do have biceps, but that layer of wibbling on the bottom of my upper arm ruins them.

Over the last five months I've been working out (off and on) on basic exercises, but now it is time to not only bring them up a step, but also concentrate a bit on my arms.

I already do some of these exercises, but I will be stepping those up and doing all of these every day except Friday, which is gonna be my rest and play MMOs until I pass out day. :)

First, I'll be wearing my wrist weights the whole time I am at home (except computer use as they make typing impossible - too bulky) and using them doubled-up (total 6kg) as weights for lifting.
Exercises:
- Lifting from the elbow, 15 reps, twice
- Lifting from the shoulder, 15 reps, twice
- The above two lifts, but twisted, 10 reps, twice (each, the twisting is designed to exercise those muscles that enable the twisting)
- Push-aways, 15 reps, twice
- Sit-backs, 15 reps, twice
- Dips, 5 reps increasing over time based on easiness to 10 reps, twice

I can't really afford to change my diet from the small amount of cheap crap I eat to an average-sized amount of good quality food, but considering I seem to be losing weight anyway, albeit very slowly, I think simply stepping up the amount of exercise I do will work.

Fuss and Results?

So I haven't posted in ages, sorry.
The doctor just asked some questions, and said he doesn't know much about it and would make enquiries and get the secretary to call me.

My boyfriend freaked out completely.
But then he got over it a bit.
Now I'm just to try not to mention it too much.
Oh, and he doesn't find me sexy as he keeps thinking of me as a man. But that's kind of a positive thing.

Gots to head to work.
See you all later.

OH! I learned to STP without bits of plastic or prosthetics.

Tonight. Tonight. God.

Its tonight. My appointment.
Fear.

I haven't told my boyfriend yet.
I can't. I don't know what to say. I don't want to see him droop and hear him try to make out that I should value his feelings about this over mine. Or get angry and call me stupid. I don't really want to go home. I have to tell him.
I can't lie.
But it is safer.
Why does he have to be like this?

Why is everyone like this? Why can't I just find a nice soul and be happy?
How is this going to work?
Where will he go when he leaves? How much money will it cost me? Will it be enough to mean I get chucked out of my flat?

My word.
Right now I just want to explode. I don't know, I need to expunge all these emotions before someone notices them.

Bluhh?!

Today. I am angry.
I am stressed.
I want to destroy.

And it makes me think about things. It reminds me that I used to write, and create and then destroy and it would help. I used to draw and sculpt and then tear and smash it all away, remove it all, all that emotion spilled out onto screen or paper or into clay and then destroyed, purifying, cleansing. Now I just stew, I lost my creativity when I escaped from her.
And people yell, they yell. I don't want to share but sometimes they find something while I'm doing it and then I have to smash it quick and they get upset. It's my heart, my soul, I can tear it and stamp and burn all I want, I don't want you to have that power over me. Get away from my heart, get out of me.

Why do I obsess so much over that concept?

I'm thinking about showers a lot lately, how they feel and the colours of the sound and temperature. I want to draw them but I can't because no-one would understand it. Nothing I draw means anything to anyone but me so I can't share but I want to share something I want to give joy to strangers as a gift in the shadow of a cool tree or the way a word tastes but I can't do that, can I? It's all just a crazy combination of things that people don't understand or think is in my head but it's not. Things taste and smell and feel in ways no one mentions and it's so much data that I could burst!

Why am I writing this here? I dunnoh really, just thought I'd post and maybe one day I'll look back and this irrational reaction to life will be gone.
Maybe I'm angry and sad and excited and terrified for a reason.
Not just college finishing next week.
Maybe it's all linked to gender.

I want to tell you, world, to just shut the fuck up to wake up to look around and think and smile and tell the trees you love them! Dance in the dark and sing while you work and suck your teeth and fuck like it's your first time and last time on this earth. Love with every tiny part of yourself, give it all away, ask for nothing, plan for the worst, expect the best, and alwayalways be yourself.

I will be myself outside, not just inside.

I will be treated as me.

I will.

I

Sexuality

So, some people are a little confused by my sexuality.

Let me try to explain it.
I'm Sapiosexual;

Sapiosexuality
(sā-pē-ō-sĕk-shü-ăl'ĭ-tē)
Becoming attracted to or aroused by intelligence and its use.

I actually use this term a little liberally; I'm attracted to minds, not bodies. I don't care if you've got one arm and are 30stone, if you've got a personality I find attractive, I'll date you.
I like wit, dry black and puerile humour, geeky interests, honesty.
I don't like self-obsessed, bitchy, lying, or two-faced people.
I like people who can dance to the sound of trees, and enjoy stroking moss, and sing to themselves in gibberish when they're concentrating on something. I like someone who I can compare opinions on a book or a game with, someone who isn't addicted to their telly, someone who'll do half the work and pay their own way. I'm a secret, geeky romantic and I want someone who'll like that, and not try and force other things on me. I want someone who's happy to live off noodles for a fortnight if it means we can go see that new movie together (and buy a slushie in the cinema). I like eclectic music tastes, science obsessions, star trek lovers, computer geekery, language tomfoolery, not giving a fuck what the world thinks, not thinking the world revolves around you. I like courage and the strength to keep on your path until it reaches an end, to stick to your beliefs.
I don't like blind faith, or pointlessness, or repetitiveness.
I like stubborn, unless it's illogical.

So this mostly seems to apply to women, but occasionally I meet a guy who fits enough of my likes that I actually would sleep with him. Sure, he hasn't got the kind of body I enjoy looking at, but that's not important.


And the sex, there's a whole 'nother kettle of fish. I don't like pen; it's not really pleasurable. However, at the same time, I kind of hate sex with girls, because they can SEE my girlparts. And know they're there. And it feels horrendous, like it's wrong because there shouldn't be that down there, and I'm less of a man for not having one, and I just don't like that confirmation of my lack of a cock. But, if I can overcome my hatred of my own genitals, it's extremely pleasurable.


Anyhow, that was terribly personal, hahaha, oh invisible eyes of the internet, don't tell anyone you read this, especially not me.

Panic Stations

Starting to panic.
Why am I purposefully going to see a shrink?

I've a natural aversion to them.
Even the one I had when I was in juniors, in years four-six..
I never knew why I was scheduled to see her each week. But I wouldn't talk to her.
I just drew things on the board.

But now I'm actually going, of my own accord.
Panic panic.
Chest too tight. Room too warm.

Seriously fuckfuckfuck and it's two days away.
Fucking shit.. I don't want to, don't want. Can't sit and talk about myself. Can't certainly talk about things I've spent me life not thinking about.
I need a plan. A list. Something?

I refuse to be scared of anything (except wasps, and needles).
But... I am scared.
Most of all that I'll forget everything and just go "uh-duuuhhhh..."

Things never figured out...

You know there's always been things you can't figure out. Why do you do them? Why do you feel that way? Why is this seemingly separate to this similar thing?

Like looks. I never cared about how I looked; no makeup, why brush my hair, what's wrong with a bit of mud? At the same time, since I hit puberty and such, I have always hated looking at myself. I don't like having these curves, but I know I'm not fat or anything. So why did I always both not give a screw, and hate myself? Guess that my body is not right is the answer. How long have I avoided poking these things, and how many more of the things that cause me strife am I going to realise are because I'm not a bloody girl?

I die a little, by the way, every time someone calls me 'luv'.
But I feel like a fucking god when someone calls me 'sir' or 'mate'. Mr Ticket-Inspector, Mr Bus-Driver, Man-with-Jackhammer, Shopkeeper-down-the-road; you keep me from drowning in misery. Thank you.

Introductions

Hello there,

I don't know why you're here; there are plenty of more informative sites out there. But sure, pull up a camp-chair or a big old cushion and settle in. I don't mind.

I've mostly made this for my own records, to be able to look back one day and smile at the mountain I made of the molehill, to keep something I can't lose, and to provide myself with what basically amounts to a central node in a network of links and things that I might otherwise have to keep as bookmarks (eugh).

I guess introducing myself is the first thing.
I'm Ethan. I'm 23 right now, I'm transgendered, and I'm not yet even near the door to transitioning to my correct gender. But, I'm tired of never fitting in a bracket, not because I WANT a bracket, but because I want other people to get what they expect. I'm sick of the girls thinking I want to talk about celebrities or hair or people we know or babies, expecting me to know what the hell foundation is and how to sterilise a bottle. I'm sick of guys who don't know me (because once you've met me you tend to realise I'm not a girl) asking me if "I need help with that" because having tits obviously makes me completely spatially retarded and physically useless, unable to screw a bolt in or know the difference between a hard drive and a stick of RAM. I'm sick of having these things jiggling about on me, and I'm sick of never really being able to relax about my lower bits. I don't like het sex, and I can't bring myself to let girls see that I'm not a guy down there.

I never was a girl. I hated pink, and dolls, and stupid cartoons for girls, and makeup and people looking at me. Thankfully my family is really relaxed and never try to force anything on a kid, so I was allowed my cool toys and gadgets and muddy games and trousers and short hair. But I hit puberty and everything went down the drain. I suddenly was in a different category to my mates, just because I had boobs all of a sudden.

I thought of myself as a dyke for a long time. Though more specifically, I enjoy sleeping with women and find them physically attractive, but as I go for personality and not looks, I have been known to have relationships with guys; they just tend to be quite feminine guys. I call this Sapiosexual.

But I think it was in my last gay relationship that I started to realise I didn't even fit the expected role of 'dyke'. And of course, my first strap-on was amazing. But let's not go into that. Just that I suddenly realised how much I hated my own parts being attached to me.
I like my breasts; they're good breasts, in my opinion and that of my partners - not to big, small, squishy, etc. Just sort of good breasts. But as much as I enjoy having my own 'toys' I can't help but wake up sometimes and suddenly get a shock as I realise they're there and there's no way for me to get rid of them and look like me. When they're visible I feel like they make me less of a person, like everyone's looking at me and thinking "what the hell is that?!"
I've been saying since I was VERY young that "I want my womb removed" because I am not a girl. And then I started having periods. And they're just wrong, not right, they distress me.

Then, I learned about transitioning. And now I can't think about anything else. I want to be myself outside. I want it so badly that I am willing to suffer almost anything, even talking about myself, in person, to a medic. That's sort of another point in this blog; if I can think through the stuff I tend to keep internal here, then maybe I will get over my crusade against being open.

My mother bought me a binder, and I feel... Better. I feel confidant, myself, correct. Just from the removal of my breasts and several people accepting me as a man. It's great. But it's not enough. I want to be accepted as who I am, I want people to look at me and be able to know that I am a guy, I am not a girl.

I'm Ethan. And I'm coming out, and there's going to be no stopping me from achieving this.


I've joined a few groups, and several people have said I should have a blog or vlog or whatever; this is my little first video ramble. I'm unsure as to how to fix the difference in latency between my webcam and mic, as they're both integrated into my netbook, but I am looking into it.

If you've any suggestions for things I should talk about, feel free to ask. It's good for me to do this, so even the most odd query is welcome.