I was looking at photos I took of my Mom the other day, and imagined that I’ll look like her when I grow up, and got dysphoric and felt like a hon in her shoes.

Like idk, somedays I feel like my dysphoria isn’t just over not looking entirely like a woman, like I just don’t want my genes or something.

Everytime she catches me with that front-camera on her phone I want to bonesmash my face with a shotgun y’know? It occurred to me I haven’t done the same back at her in a while, so I did, and it produced a similar effect. Like if I was her age and somebody took a picture of me and I looked like that, I’d feel like a man, I’d regret ever letting the picture take place, I’d lament the possibility they’d show it to anybody, I’d feel tempted to beg that it be deleted, I might even lose sleep over it, etc. Basically all the stuff I think and feel now.

Kinda makes sense that when I talk about how horribly I need ffs with my Mom, she seems a little hurt, if not concerned for me. In the past I’ve interpreted it as another case of cisoids wanting trannies to stay as vxlid clockable hons who know their place, but idk anymore, maybe the concern actually does come out of love and genuine confusion. I’ve been told I look a lot like her, but I feel like I’m only internalizing it now. She is rather cishonish to my eyes imo, but I don’t really know how detached from reality that kinda take is, as what little faith I had in my ability to evaluate these kinds of things is quickly fading.

Maybe if I stopped thinking about sexual dymorphism 15 hours a day and simply believed I was a woman and carried myself as one and put in any effort at all and didn’t give every stranger the thousand-yard stare I would actually be a woman. Maybe. Testing that requires me to go outside tho 😒

As of now the verdict of how much of my dooming over being a hon is retardation is up in the air, I guess. Sorry for being a retard if so.