morgan_edwin: (Default)
 Before deciding to transition medically, I had decided that I was comfortable in the shade of the big non-binary gender umbrella. I mentioned in previous entries that when I came out before, I'd done it all wrong, shunning anything pretty or feminine and dialing up the "MAN" to 11. I am catching myself doing that again, and, so, I needed to think about why that bothered me, and what I could do to ease my dysphoria. The answer was definitely not to go back into the closet. That cat's out of the bag and he isn't going to let me put him back in there. I am not a woman, and I can say that comfortably and confidently without any pangs of doubt.

However, I am definitely not an average male. I never will be, and I never want to be. My goal is not to be so that I would pass the most rigorous tests of masculinity. I just want my outsides to match my insides, and my insides have always been androgynous, leaning toward the side of male.I am still excited to begin my medical transition- that hasn't changed. However, I have given myself permission to think of myself as a "non-binary man" instead of just "a man." And that fits. And it feels right. 

But I discovered a fragment of myself in a dream last night who had been repressed for a long time. She is another me. I don't think I have dissociative identity disorder, or, at least, not severely enough to be treated for it, but finding that little girl helped me.

Her name is abigail and she's 8 years old and she likes dinosaurs and dolls, and hates licorice jelly beans. She loves dolls but they have to be special dolls, not Barbie dolls, she doesn't like them so much. She likes to play pretend by herself, and she likes kitties. Sometimes, though, abigail has very sad or dark thoughts. She kills bugs for no reason or pulls the cats' tails. Sometimes she bites herself until it leaves marks. She's scared of the dark, but she won't admit it.

abigail is not a constant presence. She comes out during down-time in a crisis (like a death in the family) or during anxiety attacks, or when the body is sick. She doesn't tell Morgan what to do, and I am completely aware of her words and actions. I am confident that I could stop abigail from doing anything really bad. 

She had been trying to communicate when I spoke in a very small voice wrapped up in Jaymie's arms, when I was sad or scared, and she didn't sound like me, so it was confusing. She didn't say things that it seemed like I would say. She says "I'm sorry" a lot, even when she hasn't done anything wrong, or maybe when she has done something she thinks is wrong but nobody found out. She needs a lot of care and attention when she shows herself. She reminds me of the childhood that I came from, how my imagination and I basically raised ourselves. 8 years old was such a good year, but I really think it must have been a terrible year, and my mind has blocked it out.

Admitting that I might be a system (someone with more than one distinct personality) isn't easy, but it isn't exactly a surprise, either. So, I'm just your average transgender non-binary pansexual polyamorous system. Par for the course, right?



July 2019

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