Drag Kinging, Family Drama and Trauma
This post was originally published July 07, 2009 here.
I’m going to delay the identities post for a bit longer because the time I need to put into it simply isn’t forthcoming right now. My duties to this game’s development (and the fact that it’s basically a paid 40 hour week each week) are just eating up too much of my time to do that post justice.
So instead, I’ll give a rambling three parter one for now.
MtF Drag Kinging?!
I tried on some of my old more formal clothing today (guys slacks, button down, tie and fedora). Mostly just out of an odd feeling of doing something strange. I just wanted to see how I looked. I was aware of the possibility of a dysphoric response and I knew that the moment it hit me I could yank the clothing off.
But the results were surprising. I basically looked like a girl who was crossdressing. And poorly I might add. Even with my bra off, there was still distinct breast pokeage. And my curvature was pretty visible even in the baggy formal clothing. It was a heartening thing to see, the fact that I could put on that old clothing and still look the way I needed to look. My confidence swelled, my self esteem grew and I realized that I could probably do a drag show without issue because my dysphoria wasn’t firing up at all.
I did get this sort of genderfuck-y feeling though. I mean I’m an MtF crossdressing as a guy. It’s… a lot to wrap my head around all of a sudden. I think I’m gonna experiment a bit more with it, even if just for the confidence booster of still looking like an attractive young lady even in guy’s formalwear. *nodnod*
I’m getting really fucking tired of my father acting like a child. Apparently my mom is tiptoing around to contact me now, literally waiting until he’s left for work to call me or even send emails. I don’t know if it’s just her being anxious and neurotic (an issue I have myself) and just trying to avoid conflict or if he’s been even more of a dick about me and my situation but it’s starting to reach the point where I wonder if I’m going to get slandered to my brothers.
I haven’t told them yet, I haven’t really had a chance. I wrote the letter to my father and that’s when shit hit the fan and since then my contact with my family has been… iffy, at best. The way he responded to me was absolutely awful (and I’m sure most of you have read the response) but what hurt the most wasn’t so much that it was a cold, nasty response and more that it was a cold, nasty response from someone who was normally very warm and connective (he had his problems as a parent, but that didn’t change the fact that he was at least verbally affectionate. I was badly shell shocked by the whole thing and it’s only been recently that I’ve started being able to think past the pain of the rejection and the vicious way he carried it out in.
Unfortunately, thinking past those things just leads to more concerns. He can be infantile and petty at times and he has made outbursts about things in anger, even when he rationally realizes that they ought to not be shared. So to me, the risk of one of my brothers bringing me up at the wrong time and him slandering the fuck out of me is very real. Especially as the holidays get close. My youngest brother especially will find me not visiting home for Christmas to be very unusual and warranting of comment.
I managed to convince my mom to, at the very least, approach the issue with the youngest soon and put us back into direct contact to discuss it. I haven’t figured out how I’m going to broach the subject with the middle brother. I find it unlikely his reaction will be much better than dad’s.
What really really digs under my skin is how my mom is defending him. No. Stop fucking enabling his bullshit. What he did was wrong. What he did was unacceptable. You don’t just cut off your kid like that for safeguarding her health. And you don’t create static with the rest of the family for contacting her. That is fucking wrong. Stop fucking enabling him. Seriously.
Ugh. Fucking blood family. This will only get worse when news spreads to my extended blood family. Especially my dad’s side of the family. Former Jehovah’s Witnesses (now Catholics) on that side. And they’re not from a very tolerant background…
Not looking forward to this at all…
Had To Go Into This Shit Eventually…
This is where things get a bit… personal. Some of you who read this will know the individual in question. You may want to avoid reading it. In fact I would suggest avoiding it if you feel that this would put you in an untenable situation. And I would ask that you do not under any circumstances direct this individual to this entry.
I am not writing this to violate anyone’s neutrality. This is just part of the healing process. I need to get it out and stop hiding it so I can start moving on.
*TRIGGER WARNING: rape/abuse*
One thing I haven’t gone over here is the past abuse and trauma caused by an ex. I don’t intend on giving much clue who this ex is so I will be using the pronoun “they” and avoiding names or handles of any kind.
Partway through my transition, I dated an individual for a while. Things started out just fine. It was a loving, close, caring relationship, with a healthy sex life and the necessary amount of independence for us both. But things rapidly changed for the worse. As situations worsened in my ex’s life, they began to take it out on me, using their mental state and mental problems as an excuse.
It started with emotional abuse. Yelling, angry insulting responses and cutting me down. Threats of harm to themselves and a wide variety of other manipulative gestures. This moved into harsher and harsher treatment, constant fights and even a few (rare) times where they physically struck me. One of the times most distinct in my mind was when I was cured up in the fetal position next to the sofa they were on while they hit me with a heavy coat, zipper side out.
This was obviously damaging but the thing that had the most serious impact was an incident in which the previous reasonably healthy sexual component took a turn for the worse. You see, I had been struggling with the idea that I needed to try out penetrative sex (i.e. I penetrate someone else with the offending organ) before I transitioned as a confirmation of my trans feelings. I wasn’t stupid enough to actually engage in this. Rationally I knew it would be painful, damaging and awful. It was just a doubt that plagued me in the irrational parts of my head. This ex got it into their head to… “help” me with those doubts. The reasons being that they didn’t want me to try this with someone I didn’t know well and fall apart with someone who couldn’t help me.
The operative problem was that I had no intention of actually going through with this action, least of all with that ex. So (fuck is this hard to write, even so long after) they fed me drinks until I was docile and seriously out of it and got themselves pretty drunk as well.
…and then they forced themselves on me.
Even now I have a hard time using the “r” word to describe what happened. The wounds are a little too raw for me I guess. I’ve been able to call it sexual assault at least (which is likely what it would have been legally, had I not been so abused and codependent as to be entirely unable to press charges or even realize that such a thing should not have happened and was utterly unacceptable).
Suffice it to say that no matter what word I use, it did a fuck ton of damage to me. To the point that I’ve gotten tactile flashbacks of it at times (they’ve never failed to completely put me out of commission every time). I got anxiety attacks at an anime convention that my ex had no chance of being at because I saw a person who looked just like them. I’ve even had difficulty interacting with just the mutual friends between us because they often act as reminders (it doesn’t help that many of them are still in touch with my ex, and that some like to use the words “mutually abusive” to describe the past relationship. That statement never fails to cut me deeply and trigger my self blame, despite knowing that it comes from the very skewed version of reality my ex presents people)
But what really sucks out of all of this is that the sexual assault was unwanted sex because it was a very specifically male sort of sex to have with my organ. And it has massively added to my already nasty issues regarding my genitals from dysphoria. Now looking at them or having a tuck shift can cause flashbacks. Now sex is even more risky with the possibility of trauma related breakdowns on top of dysphoria.
I’m dealing with it in therapy, but progress is slow.
So there you all go. One good thing, and two bad. The identity post may get delayed a bit longer depending but hopefully I can do it this weekend. Thanks for reading.
Go here to read the comments on the original post.
Filed under: personal | Leave a Comment
Tags: abuse, drama, family, genderfuckery, sexual assault, transgender, trauma