Ever since I can remember being conscious of my body I hated merely being male. But I could never be normal about it. I will likely never be normal about it. Any reminder that the only real alternative to man is woman makes me really sad, something that should be utterly obvious to me still manages to shock me everyday, like I’m actually living under some kind of rock everyday that insulates me from being reminded that I practically don’t exist to others as I do to myself and likely never will, not even in the eyes of other trannies, not even in the eyes of a good number of self-proclaimed nb’s. Every exposure to this reality I constantly hide from myself stings.

AMAB AFAB this, oh I’m such a theyfabmab aha. Ahahahahahahahaha. AHAHAHAHAHAHAH. Yeah, cuz it’s all about being perceived as natally male or natally female, that’s all any of this is, why did I ever delude myself into thinking it could ever be any deeper? When you sum it all up I’ll just end up looking like a natal female that’s trying to make their natal femaleness look a bit less obvious to the outside world, but still obvious enough that they don’t get straight up moid-boxxed again. If it was possible to be a permanent question mark maybe that’d be more a goal, but I don’t want to hear the questions or answer them, and they would come regardless, and everyone would feel they need an answer to engage with me, and what’s not asked with their mouths will be asked with their curious inspecting eyes, and any answer I can give besides man and woman will always be seen as a needlessly obscurantist gesture, a lie, a demonstration of politics, a philosophical statement.

Imagine wanting to look just female enough that you can obscure those traits and look like a natal female who’s obscuring female traits??? LITERALLY. That’s not how I’d like to think about what I’m doing to myself at all, but that’s what it feels like sometimes, thinking about the limits of my flesh and it’s social perception is pure self-harm. Cause then it’s like so you want to be a histrionic penis-envy cis woman? Is that it? Fml. The only time I can remember actually being optimistic about being nonbinary has been in internet echo chambers. When presented with the real world I’m just faced with the reality that it’s just men and women out there, and if I don’t want to be a man and I work towards not being one, womancoping eternally but in a GNC way is the only future, and like, maybe that’s fine I guess, if I can make that work then that’d be something… but it still hurts, and I don’t get why it should, have I not be on this rock long enough to learn that that’s just how to world is?

My subjectivity doesn’t reflect anything real. Assimilate. Assimilate. ASSIMILATE ALREADY, INSIDE AND OUT. That’s all that plays in my head. If I can’t be normal I should at least learn to act like it until it’s my norm. Being myself is just shooting myself in the foot. I need to conversion therapy myself into just thinking about these things like a normal binary troon, but like actually tho, ACTUALLY THO. I need to just swallow my hangups with a full binary transition and transmaxx already, not just externally but internally, re-write this whole retarded subjectivity that only gets me hurt, take advantage of the plasticity of my brain and rewire my dysphoria profile. It must be possible. I have to make this work.

We’re not even at a point yet where binary trans people can be anything but their natal sex until they pass and stealth, so why did I ever give myself hope that I could ever be “me”? Actual retard.