The Great Intolerable Fear of the Unknown.

Apologies for the lack of updates. I've been struggling for topics to write about and mostly been delving in escapism as my mechanism. However writing is really the best form for this. The big news is that the plans for my surgery are underway. Deposit money is being moved and the real make or break point is approaching. Which really brings out a lot of other emotions and fear around this. I'm afraid of this and I'm afraid of what is coming. This is something I feel I should do, the discomfort I've had with my lady bits has been well known. I've referred to it as a cancer before, as a deformity. There is no love lost there. Yet, in the past year or two it's become less of the epitome of symbolism for all of my struggle in being trans. Before, when I first started this, there was an unspeakable amount of rage and anger, frustration, and disgust at being trans. The grief and anger over why I have this injustice and others do not. There was no greater symbol of that than the bits themselves.

It was a constant reminder. It IS a constant reminder. But lately as my relationship with my partner has bloomed, it's become less of a harsh reality, and less on the forefront of my mind. I don't face that rejection from it as often, or as harshly as I did when I was single. This makes me question my desires, and my relationship with my body.

I'm trying to be objective in my decisions, and at least remove as much doubt and emotional instability as possible. Being partnered, and having function left (many trans folk don't) means I've gotten to enjoy an aspect of my body that previously has been uncomfortable (and still is at times). Now that the time has come to decide what to do with it, how do I value that?

I have to learn how to have sex with my partner again, something that we've both been comfortable/compatible with. Meaning this will put strain on our relationship as we both relearn how my body works. And there is risk that if we aren't sexually compatible, that things might have to change for the worse.

I worry that once this is done I won't be satisfied. I worry that I won't be able to feel anything, that it will be ugly or unrecognizable. I worry about something happening. I worry that I'll regret it and that I'll regret not being able to penetrate my partner in the way I used to be able to. I worry about it being a waste of money, and I worry that I don't want it badly enough.

For as long as I can remember I've wanted to be a lesbian. Why then am I having such doubt over this change? So then, the better questions is why then am I still going through with it? For one, I doubt my peace with myself. If my partner and I were to split up I can easily see this becoming the symbol and anguish generating source it once was. My current state of acceptance I believe has less to do with my lack of desire to see it removed, than my being distracted from it. As in, if my partner wasn't in the picture, I would have a huge desire to see this through. Just because I may not have he utmost of hatred and loathing for it now (now that I've another use for it) that doesn't mean said sentiment is gone.

In talking to my friend who's had the procedure done before, her opinion was such that any result was better than what she currently had. That, was my same sentiment in starting this transition. When looking at this now, are my bits objectively worth keeping over the potential for a bad result? Further more, in the laundry list of situations, feelings, emotions, placements, and minute uncomfortabilities that enumerate my experience, is the sum of said things greater, than the enjoyment and pleasure I get out of penetrating my partner.

Looking further into that, is it the act of penetration, or the closeness and emotional connection that the act brings that I enjoy. Assuming that pleasurable sex and orgasms will be had either way, why the reluctance to give up something I have for something that is slightly different given ceteris paribus? Which brings me back to the fear of the unknown. Not knowing what the results will be is of grave portent in regards to my comfort and sexuality.

Looking at this through the lenses of my education it's easy to see my bias in overvaluing what I have now. Still, this risk and discomfort associated with not knowing is proving to be significant. At least, more than I thought I would have at this point. I will muddle along however, under the idea that objectively, it is the right choice even if I'm terrified of taking the risk.

Disposability

It is hard to describe the hollowness that comes from things. After a year of saying I love you too, it doesn't diminish the meaning of the world, but it certainly doesn't carry the same weight. Don't get me wrong, this is not a post lamenting the diminishment of NRE (New Relationship Energy), but given the crazyness that was the mid-late March, things now have calmed down and returned to a nice normal level. A level, I find to be quite hollow and without substance.

A great part of me wants to attribute this to the unfulfilled aspects of my life. Not that I don't have goals, both long and short, but, it all just seems so meaningless and arbitrary. I'm learning French because I want to, and while I' can find enjoyment in that, it is a shallow one. It exists because I want it to, and not at all within itself.

What does one strive for when one's needs and pains are remedied. These goals are nice, but, feel arbitrary and self imposed (likely as they are). Commendable, sure, but I can't take them to the bank, so to speak.

Why do I feel so, pointless in my endeavors? I have friends, great friends. I have a lovely partner, but, at the end of the day when everyone is asleep, I still lie awake at night with longing for something greater.

I...understand..that these dreams of grandeur, are likely the last grasps of the dieing breath of my hopes for a better life. I'm not sure what to think of that sentiment. Part of it seems realistic, and the childish remnants sees it as fatalstic romance. That last bead that if I would only strive for and put my entire energy towards, could make work into some sort of epiphany of a dream for a one way ticket into a better life/higher class/fantasy land.

All my life I've made pragmatic choices. It's a side effect of being given a shit predisposition of choices in life. When all your options are shit, you tend to become realistic, and play for what you can achieve. Having dreams is a side quest to pain, disappointment, and a quick slap in the face from the realities of the world. Now that my pragmatism has played out as it can, I'm out of realistic options, as it were. Everything is my life is, satisfactory. Not fantastic, not great, but acceptable.

The question then, is where do I go from here. Do I accept the realistic options of mediocrity that is my life as is? As, difficult as it might seem, there is solidarity in accepting the fatalism that is the majority of us. Most people go through their lives with unfulfilled desires, knowing that they can't achieve what the want. It seems, at least, progressive and mature to accept that I am as most are, and mediocre at best. That, jives, so to speak, with my mentality.

The, downside, of course, is the sheer depression and sadness that comes with knowing how futile, pointless, and meaningless your life has come to summarize in the vast expanse that is the time you've spent on this planet. Life, is an extravagantly, and a fantastically expensive long time. Most of which is spent doing vast quantities of unremarkable task for no reason. Leading one to question what the point is, if not for something fantastic.

Which all points to the issues of cognitive dissonance. A person has to maintain two separate countering ideas, while attempting to balance the two, or at least, remain ignorant of one. In the one, that life has to worth something, else it isn't worth anything. In the other, the realistic notion that there are seven billion people in the world, half of which are infinitely more qualified to be worth more than you at any given task (statistically).

So does one accept ones own mediocrity, or does one strive for what one will inevitably likely never achieve (at least, by my age standards)? If one opts to accept, how does one then rationalize that depressing, and truthful fact of self-obsolescence.

Intimacy

So, I wanted to try and figure out what has been going on. Recent bouts of physical intimacy have put me in strange places. The most recent being more disturbing than the others. I have a somewhat vivid imagination, and when combined with someone else feeding into it with sensations that closely resemble what the fantasy is, it can become very real. This becomes a problem when reentering reality. I can usually handle where I am in my transition, I'm well aware of what I have, and what is yet to come. However that quick fantasy/reality post orgasm come down was particularly harsh.

On that same token, acts that I used to be able to tolerate now seem very foreign and uncomfortable. I don't think it fits in any longer with who I am, and I don't think it is fair to be asked to perform them. The whole experience has made me more uncomfortable with my body than I have been in a good while.

I think I'll be keeping things above the belt from now on.

Tracking the Changes pt II & an update.

So not a whole lot new in the changes this fortnight. I've noticed that my right breast is definitely developing faster than my left, but I'm told this is normal. There is definitely what feels to be pockets of fluid behind my nipples. This appears to be normal according to my reading, but it is still kinda strange to me. Aside from that I find myself more moody, and prone to fits of angst than before. 

I had my first day of school in femme yesterday, it went pretty well all things considering. I didn't go to class, but to my social organization, which is obviously a bit more understanding than regular classes. I was a bit apprehensive at first, but I got used to it (like I do everything) after a bit. I'm still having trouble with my voice though, which is what makes me the most uncomfortable. I think if I could get that somewhat working I would feel much more comfortable in going out, as it is I am going out in femme with my normal voice and it irks me. It is something that I am trying to work on though =\.