However, I didn’t realize how uncomfortable I felt in my overweight body until I had lost the last 10 pounds. I felt so liberated! Like I was finally “me” again.
So maybe that is a small smidgen of what you feel…but there is no diet that will get you “back to right”. But does alteration really accomplish that either?
You’re correct, you
do understand a small smidgin of what it’s like. The quantity is infinitely greater, but the feeling is of that type.
Now, try to imagine this… you’ve given birth (under anaesthetic). And when you wake up, your doctor tells you that your baby is fine, but you’ve had some hormonal problems.
You look down, and see you’ve got male genitalia now. And facial and body hair.
Your feelings haven’t changed. Your mind is just the same. But you’ve been assigned a new first name, “Matthew” rather than “Magdalena” because the latter doesn’t fit your appearance.
But wait! The doctor says there’s a treatment that can fix this.
A purely cosmetic surgery? A mere change of appearance? Or a restoration of your birthright as a woman, and a prevention of living a life that feels perverted, strange, un-natural and contrary to your every instinct. A treatment that will stop you from having to learn how to swagger like a man and not swing your hips, A treatment that means you won’t have to learn to suppress your natural body language in order not to be physically assaulted as a “f@ggot” and a “freak”. A treatment that means you won’t have to become an expert male-watcher, copying their outward emotional reactions while wondering how anyone could possibly feel that way.
Maybe you could live with it, at least for a while. But be warned, instead of getting easier over time, it gets worse. The male hormonal mix combined with female cellular receptors in the brain will slowly erode your sanity, till you spiral down into depression, despair, and death. All from purely biological causes that no amount of anti-depressants will touch. It might take two years, or it might take many decades. And every morning of those years, you will wake up from a pleasant dream, and suddenly realise that *there’s something terribly wrong with your body!!! * Every morning, the same few seconds of confusion, as you wonder where your breasts are. And every morning, having to accept reality, and to come to terms with it anew. Because in your dreams, your body is correct, and this terrible thing didn’t happen.
Imagine not even being able to cry, because the testosterone in your body makes you unable to express your feelings,You have to internalise, and stare into a fire, as men do. The male hormones help there.
That was the worst part for me. To be in that situation, and not even being able to cry.
Now instead of imagining it happening in childbirth, imagine it happened when you were only a child of 13. Facing a future like that, and longing for a swift, painless death every single day of every single month of every single year, year after year after year… But knowing that your suicide would hurt all those you love and care about.
Perhaps you would find solace in God. Or perhaps you might just cry “Father! Why hast thou forsaken me?” Before picking up your cross, and trying to be a decent human being, despite everything. Your life isn’t worth living, but maybe you can help someone else whose cause is not hopeless.That would be a victory, and make your existence something meaningful, instead of a hopeless, pathetic and shameful farce.
If you can imagine this, then you have an inkling of what it must be like. Imagining it is one thing though, experiencing it, another.
By the way I still do want them to keep posting here. You have been a big help in this debate.
here
as the council.