I have a moustache now. Well sort of. It’s more like dark peach fuzz. It’s slightly embarrassing to look like a teenaged boy. I’m rocking this 14 going on 32 thing hard.
In theory I want to shave it off. I just can’t though. It’s the only tangible thing the everyday person can see that’s different. Yes, Anna and I notice that I am turning into a beefcake (slight exaggeration but seriously I was pretty twiggy before), and I have lists upon lists of subtle changes: hair, voice, skin, muscles that clearly only I see. But nothing that’s as noticeable to the outside world as my creepy little peach-stache. So for now, it stays.
The truth is that most of the changes I’ve experienced while transitioning from FTM are inner.
They feel like big shifts in my personality. I’m not sure that they are though. I think the truth is that I’m the same person on testosterone, I’m just more intense inside now, I’m not small inside anymore, I’m amped up.
I was socialized as a woman. I was made to make my personality smaller, to reign it in, to be quieter. To accept that what I wanted was probably wrong. To apologize for being such a sinful greedy little kid. To ask for less. To learn to recognize my wants and then make them so much smaller or turn them off all together.
Now that I have all this testosterone in my body those don’t seem like options anymore. I want what I want. I don’t know how to make those wants smaller. My wants seem bigger and more important than ever before. I want sex and the kids to put their dishes in the dishwasher, and more sex and to watch something awesome on TV and I don’t want to listen to piano music, and I want more sex, or at least I want a good make out session. I want to be wanted all the time.
The thing is that I was socialized as a woman, so although my wants seem so much more important and bigger and AHHHH than ever before, unlike a Cis-guy, I still have the deep feeling of MY WANTS ARE TOO MUCH. They are wrong. I am wrong for wanting them. The problem is that before I could just sort of stop myself from wanting them. Now I just want them with so much guilt.
I don’t have the tools to know how to handle it. I flop between being self-loathing of myself, and resentful of my wife. I just want her to want what I want too. I want her to want me as much as I want her. Like 7 times a day. I mean come on, that’s reasonable right?
In my weaker moments I want her to see how much I want her, and for that to be enough. I want her to want to make me happy. My wife thinks it’s male entitlement coming out in me, but I don’t think so. I’m not male enough to feel that yet. I wasn’t trained to feel that. I personally am such a people-pleaser that when she wants something, anything, I will bust my ass to give her that thing. Case in point: I just ran to the liquor store and bought her scotch. The other day she was craving a hamburger, fries and a coke, so I ran out at 9pm because that’s how I show her I care.
Acts of service is absolutely my love language. It gets tricky when you apply this to sex. It isn’t healthy to think that she should put out just because I WANT it so much. That’s not fair to her. But… part of me thinks that if she loved me, she would. Just like I loved her enough to provide alcohol and fast food at the drop of a hat. And then I feel like the biggest piece of shit for feeling that way. The whole thing is cyclical and it’s filled with more guilt than I care bare sometimes.
It’s a tricky place to be, this guilt. Sometimes I handle it better, and sometimes not. I hate my feelings. All feelings really, but I’m learning to ask for what I want. I’m learning to set a limit on how much I shame myself for wanting those things, and to make sure that my wants are my responsibility and mine alone.
These are things I hope to teach my children. I hope to teach my kids that their wants are good and right and that they should be bigger and louder, to teach them not to reign it in. I want to teach them that their wants do not determine the outcome. That often they will be disappointed, and that throwing a fit in the face of that disappointment will just make them a jackass. I want to teach them that their disappointment doesn’t make them wrong or unloveable, it just makes them someone awesome who’s a little bit disappointed. It is not someone else’s job to fulfill their wants and needs, but their own responsibility.
I want them to know that without a shadow of a doubt that they are good and brave and that they can deal with rejection without meaning that they themselves are wrong. I want so much for them. I’m just struggling to learn it for myself first.