So lately things have been pretty rough. Not only with getting myself on track as far as going through with transitioning, but also with getting myself a job and a place outside of my parents. I don’t feel that comfortable exploring my sexuality with them around. I have been dating a guy since 04/23/2012. He’s amazing, spectacular and definitely my soulmate. Problem? I still think about girls at least 50% of the time. Keeping myself from straying isn’t always hard but sometimes it gets rough.
I know deep down, I’m a good person. I can’t cheat and I can’t hurt someone…
But I don’t want my decisions and especially if I get on T to effect our relationship worse. I don’t want to be dominated by thoughts of women. I doubt I will. Because, mentally, I now I’m a guy who likes guys at least 75% of the time. The problem is the daunting “what if”s that I constantly have to say “it’s not worth it.” Though, he doesn’t consider females for me cheating…[how original]…
Anyway, the drama:
I decided to move in with my brother for three weeks. It was pretty much a vacation to hell. He and his girlfriend DO NOT get along. Ever. But being that I had asked my guy to move up here from Texas, it wasn’t fair to subject him to that kind of stress so early on. He had barely known me before coming up here. But the urge was pretty strong. There’s something about Texas. I don’t know…I just have this magnetism to guys from Texas.
So, my brother’s girlfriend [18] decides to push me, rub me the wrong way. So instead of doing my normal routine of mopping up my brother’s kitchen because his shit-loving dogs had just pooped everywhere - I decided to talk shit about her as loud as possible. I knew she was awake and through a paperthin wall. It always eats away at her when someone doesn’t like her. So it was fairly easy to piss her off. Then my brother blames me for the dogs shitting all over the kitchen. Even though, one of the owners of the house was home and could have been awake earlier in the day to let them out. So, I called my mom, had her come get us and take us from that shit-hole. Literally and metaphorically.
Now, as a somewhat intelligent being, I knew I was being taken advantage of. Sure, I wasn’t paying for anything. That’s great and all but when you move into another person’s house you shouldn’t have to babysit one of the co-owners. She left glasses of liquids around EVERYWHERE and left a bowl of captain crunch in the skin EVERY morning. It was just a pain in the ass.
Thank God things have been getting…somewhat better?
Now our AC unit is out and has been for a couple days. Guess what the temp was? 90 degrees. 87 in the house. I’m just wondering what kind of self-deprivation I have to do before the luck changes. Oh, and I’ve gone anorexic due to some modeling difficulties. I’ve decided to go back to being 110 pounds. But, I’ve stopped eating completely. I know it’s bad, I know it’s wrong…but when I look at myself, I still hate myself. I guess changing isn’t going to solve that, either.
Eventually, one day…I might be able to get over that self-hatred…but I doubt it will last. It’s never lasting enough to change my confidence or self-esteem. I often dream about what it’d be like to live another life. Hopefully not being born female, but if so - at least an attractive, feminine one. I’m too old-souled to even consider being a ditsy female. I cannot and will not. but the drama of modeling is extremely annoying. My co-models are all nice, except for this stripper bitch who thinks she’s awesome. -___- Yeah, in your bra.
Anyway, enough boring shit from me. How is everyone else?
Just wanted to let you know, I went to FTJ and got your pre-op nudes. You’re just as ugly as you always were. Hell, maybe I’ll post them all over IB sometime in the wee hours if I’m feeling like it. You know the mods won’t do anything about it, and it should be several hours before they’re ever taken down. Before long, everyone on IB will know the freakish abomination that you are. If I looked as ugly as you, I might get a sex change too. Too bad you’re just as ugly as a man as you were as a woman. You really have no idea how close I am to the mods, do you? I’m speaking to one of them on Skype as I type this. No matter what I do or how many times I do it, they’ll just keep letting me back on. I have over 100 alt accounts that I can use to my advantage and the mods know every single one of them, but choose to do nothing about it. Face it, tranny: nothing you do will ever stop me.
As far as that retard Namey goes, I’ve gotten trannies to commit suicide and I’ve gotten autistic retards to commit suicide. Getting an autistic tranny retard to commit suicide should be even easier. I just hope he does it on webcam so I can record it and send it to his family members for extra lulz.
So, I guess I should post why I made this blog to begin with. I really don’t think people are going to follow it. But, I made it for personal reasons. If you feel like I’m offending you, let me know. But I’m not going to be anything but myself - I’ve already tried that stupid life. I’ve been that fake person for 23 years of the 24 I’ve been alive.
-Something changed inside me. I’m not sure when, but I stopped recognizing the person in the mirror as myself. I stopped identifying with the imaginary. That’s why I named myself “shattered-illusion”. I’ve shattered my own illusion and become myself. I’ve finally stopped being trapped in my own body. [Sure, I’m still trapped as far as society norms are concerned and as far as anatomy is concerned] I finally changed myself for the better. The last time.
Discovering myself as trans was probably the hardest part. I had no idea what trans even meant until I met someone who was. I won’t speak their name, because I’m not going to out them. - I’ve learned how harsh that can be. But, if it wasn’t for this person changing my life - at least subtly, I wouldn’t have had the strength to be myself.
I thought for the longest time maybe I’m just asexual. But, I realized, I really don’t care about the gender identity of the person I’m with. I had a year of being a lesbian but it was extremely awkward for me. Mainly because I didn’t identify as a girl. But - I’m not a butch lesbian, either. So - What am I? I never really knew how to answer this. Meeting this person helped me realize something - I needed to do my research. Because, I had hurt them in ways I really couldn’t fathom, until now that is.
After coming out as trans, my family - tried to accept me? My friends, they were a lost cause. All of my “bros” I thought I had became enemies. All of my friends kind of became this awkward shadow. I had traveled to meet one of these people. We’re no longer communicative. We cannot. Because they are so against my being open with myself and who I am, that they’ve even began to slander me on other websites. I’m okay with this. It’s fine to be confused. I know what it feels like to be on the other end of this - to not understand the damage you’re doing to the individual. To be selfish and only want this person to be who you want them to be in your life. It’s completely ignorant. But, eventually…neither one of us will care.
Changing myself was definitely for the better. I’ve evolved so much as a person through this process. Losing people helped me realize who was really there for me. Then again - I kind of always knew. I guess it was a shock to most people. Because of my extremely polar opposite facade I had brought about myself. I not only had to come terms with the fact that people disliked my outwardly “gay” actions but also my outwardly “butch” look as well. I realized then that I wasn’t gay, it didn’t define me it only restrained me. I’m not limited to what your body is. I’m only interested in the soul, not the vessel that carries it.
I guess this is about when things started getting hectic at home. I couldn’t tell you what happened, because all I remember was dealing with mass amounts of hatred. Surprisingly though, I was okay with it all. I was okay with them not accepting me. Because, hell. I hated myself too. I hated myself for lying, but I hated them for lying as well. They said they’d always be there for me, that was such a huge lie. People I’ve known my whole life probably just chalk it up to me being me. They think that I’ll change, that this isn’t going to last. But, it wasn’t a matter of choice. I chose to express what I could no longer contain.
Myself.
I’m not who I once was. Outwardly. Inside, I’m the same person I’ve always been. Just a little less confused. It’s strange because, people will notice a lively light in my eyes now that wasn’t there before. I had “dead” eyes. I’m awake now. I’m not this fragmented person anymore. My eyes actually dilate when I see myself in the mirror. Because not only do they recognize who I am, finally; They recognize who I wasn’t. I’m finally in love with myself. Not conceit, but a healthy love. A general “I care if I’m dead or alive.” feeling that I never had before. I was once a ghost…Not anymore. I hope this can help shed some light, at least for those who keep trying to shove me in the opposite direction.
This is the shell I left behind:
This is who I was meant to become:
Same caramel center, different milk chocolate outside. ;)
I’m finally happy, so I hope people can actually see that and be happy for me. But the difference, the main difference is that now, you can’t hurt me.
Because, before - I didn’t care about myself. So it was easy to hurt me.
Now - I do care, so you won’t hurt me with mindless banter about how I’m a waste or how I shouldn’t have done this. Because, I’m the only person in this specific equation that matters. Not you.
