Sometimes I have nightmares about being stuck in that body again. The muscles and fat and hair. The way it moves around with me inside it, so deeply wrong. The shape itself, the sensation, repulsive to my mind. Rough, disgusting, suffocating. I wake up sweating, exhausted, relieved that it wasn’t real, but needing a few to calm down. I wonder if this counts as trauma
I feel somewhat the same, but only really with body hair. It feels like a parasite to me. Every time I look down I panic and try to rip it off.
i go both by Ester (feminine), and Alister (masculine). i use she/her and he/him. im not sure how i feel about they/them quite yet, but any pronoun is OK!!
sometimes i wear a binder, sometimes i wear a bra. sometimes i present feminine, sometimes masculine. sometimes i wish my hair was long again, sometimes im SO glad it’s short now.
this has been a long time coming… ive considered for years and years that the gender assigned to me at birth didnt quite fit me, except – sometimes i love being feminine, wearing makeup and dresses, being pretty, being called ‘she’… all the supposedly “cis” things, you know? aaaand sometimes i just want to yeet my tits out the window!!
unfortunately, i also have a history of self-doubt and denial, but 2020 has been a year of discovering myself… and id been putting the “gender thing” aside and purposefully ignoring it for way too long. ive put off experimenting with presentation and identity, yet longed for it the whole time.
but i dont want to ignore or stifle this part of myself anymore…. so, hello again! my name is Ester and/or Alister, and im genderfluid.
thank you for reading, love yourself, believe yourself. <3
itty bitty update: i just go by Alister/Al (he/they) as my online presence now
if you call a nonbinary person cis bc they don’t perform androgyny to a level you approve of i’m omw with a big hammer to shatter your kneecaps
This is incredibly important to remember. Nonbinary isnt just a middle ground or a third gender. Its not being in the binary. Thats it. That means something different to every nb person. So maybe someone does lean a bit more into their assigned gender at birth, they’re still nonbinary and calling them cis just because they arent preforming for you is transphobic- Yeseven if you are trans too.
I’m afab and my body is still very clearly feminine and will, unfortunately, always be that way. There are many reasons that I will/can not “transition” in the ways that are acceptable to gatekeepers.
My bio family are abusers. My partner’s family are the only people (outside of him) who’ve ever been truly and unselfishly kind to me. They’re conservative Christians, and they accept my more liberal views, but I’m terrified that physical transition would be too far for them. Having them in my life is more important to me.
My partner tends toward the more conservative side as well. He knows I’m not “technically” a traditional female, and is accepting of that, but is very firmly straight and if I try to say I’m not really a girl at all outside of presentation for societal ease, he will not be so receptive.
I am terrified of surgery and the recovery process that comes with it.
I have chronic illness including asthma and problems with my body being weak. Not only does this add to my fear of surgery, but it also makes me too afraid to bind.
There are more reasons than this as well, but these are the main ones.
I will never be androgynous, but that does not make me any less nonbinary.
Peak Tumblr vibes is taking a post from someone you have literally no clue about and then calling them “privileged”.
Because being indescribably terrified that my partner, the one person that keeps me going through my severe depression and anxiety, as well as financially supports me because not only am I mentally unfit to hold a job but also physically, will divorce me if he finds out I’m not cis because when we got married I didn’t know I wasn’t, is privilege.
Because being scared that the people in my life who currently support me will reject me if they find out and then I’ll have to go back to living with my abusive family is privilege.
Preferring to deal with daily dysphoria and having panic attacks because of it, that I can’t explain to the people I’m closest to and should be receiving support from, rather than losing them and being forced to go back to my abusers, is privilege.
Congrats, you got me. You really called me out, huh?
