Dreams

I've been thinking about dreams for the past couple of days. It started Friday night when I had an amazing dream. In the dream doctors had developed new techniques for FtM SRS (sex reassignment surgery) so that they were able to construct an actually working, ahem, certain male body part, yeah you know what I'm talking about, and I volunteered to be one of the first FtMs to have the new operation, and, well, what can I say, it was awesome. The dream was incredibly real and detailed, more life like than my dreams usually are. Or then I simply had more reason to remember this particular dream than my usual, angsty dreams. I wish that it was a premonition or something -- well, my Grandpa was a shaman of sorts, or so I've been led to believe although I was too young to have understood anything when he died, so I admit I'm inclined towards certain unexplainable possibilities. A family business. Paganism runs in the family. Well, anyway, I'm hoping that one day reality catches up with my dream and us FtMs could have exactly what I had in the dream. Having experienced that dream, I won't settle with anything less. I cannot. Not now that I know what I could have.

Having that dream made me think about my usual dreams, and only now I have understood why they bother me so much. They are filled with gender dysphoria, and they make me feel so freaking anxious I can't describe it. That's the way they have always been -- these are my normal dreams. No wonder I don't have much nightmares, I mean, what's the point of nightmares when night after night after night I struggle with my inner demons in otherwise normal dreams? In the dreams I am me, and I am treated as female, and it's freaking me out. Like in real life, too. And if I should call these dreams nightmares, then my real life is one continuous nightmare too, and I'd like to try and keep my head together by not thinking about that more than I'm thinking already. So I'm talking about dreams, not nightmares.

It took me 30+ years to finally admit that I have gender issues (I can be damn stubborn, I tell ya) and all these years I've been plagued by my dreams without understanding why they make me feel so anxious. Human mind is an interesting place. Considering all the obvious clues that there were and the little, ugly demons living inside me waving hands and calling, "Woohoo, hey ya, gender issues here!", I call it a some kind of an achievement that I actually managed to deny my true gender identity for so long. Let me make a list, I feel like ranting right now:

1) I feel like a guy. Okay, this is probably not the best possible way to put it, but that's what I feel inside: masculine, not feminine.

2) I think like a guy, I don't really understand how women think. They really baffle me sometimes. :)

3) I have always hated my female body beyond description. And yes, I have a past (and partly present, too, it seems) of self harm and suicidical thoughts.

4) Even though I like women (and well, yes, men too) I could never identify myself as lesbian. That's just not me. And it has nothing to do with me not wanting to be gay, damn I'm proud to be queer. But if I could trade my gender issues for merely being gay -- well, that would at least be an easier road. But right now, thinking about it, I'm not so sure I would make the trade. I'm beginning to develop self esteem in being a transman, and I don't think I'd like to give that up even for an easier life. It's nice to be able to feel good about something in myself, even though a lot of things suck.

On a side note, I hate the term bisexual because by definition it assumes that there are only two genders. So, I am attracted to individuals without so much emphasis on the gender (physical, social or preferred), well, yeah, sure I like the physical body, but I mean that if I like a person, their gender isn't an issue. But don't call me bi. I'll bite you if you do. :D

5) I passionately hate being gendered female and treated as one in social situations. I have hated it all my life, as long as I can remember, but I never allowed myself to understand why. Or what I would like to be instead, if I hated being female so much.

It developed into a deep hatred for myself, like I was the one to blame, like it was somehow my fault that I felt like I did. That I was born wrong. Breaking the thick walls I had built around myself to keep me from seeing the true cause for my problems and finally understanding and accepting myself has already been such a great relief for me, although there is still a long way for me to go to be able to look into a mirror without flinching or feeling bad about what I see. But I'm on the way. And Saturday night, at a Valentine's Day party at a gay club I actually got gendered male by a guy who knows me as female. Yes, I'm on the way. Towards my dream. I only hope I'll get there some day.