update from sparkleup
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<p>Exploration and euphoria.</p>
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<p>Masculinity.</p>
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<p>Tentative gestures towards femininity, towards specifically <em>not</em> my inherited masculinity.</p>
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<p>And with each of these alternations, with each of these swings of a pendulum, came the reasoning.</p>
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<p>As I swung closer to Younes, I began to feel those tentative wrigglings toward gender as it applied to myself.</p>
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<p>As I swung further away, I began to feel that doubt. Gender? But how could it? I was a guy, yes? I was comfortable enough in my body, yes? He/him! Bepenised! That was fun enough, was it not? And certainly easier than the path of anything even resembling transing my gender.</p>
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<p>And then as I swung back, there were these feelings of euphoria. Surely it couldn’t be <em>that</em> hard to trans my gender. I would…what? Drop my testosterone and up my estrogen? That wasn’t too difficult. I could perhaps even do that myself, if I was willing to order the medications required online. After all, JD had his own experiments with such.</p>
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<p>And always there was the discomfort with myself. There was JD and I on that couch, the way our own intimacy began to feel strangely misshapen.</p>
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<p>The pendulum would swing, and I would promise myself that I could simply ignore that. Bodies are bodies, and sometimes they are stupid. Perhaps I could just not engage with mine whenever I began to feel bad, and focus my energy on something else.</p>
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<p>The friendship had crashed the ground and shattered, and then the shards began to crumble, themselves. Now, even my engagement with gender began to crumble, or at least the surface began to flake away.</p>
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</article>
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<footer>
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<p>Page generated on 2023-08-25</p>
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