4am Gender Ramblings

I can't even close my eyes without gender transforming morphing pooling up in my concious mind stopping the sleep I so desperately want and need right now sniffles bunlded up in layers of long johns and a sweater dress, knitted cap and a few pieces of fewllery, fresh scars and fading bruises that mark dream time mixed with the reality of what I mean to myself. I am refusing to let myself bathe, lets I wash off something I need, something I so desperately identify with yet keep on having taken apart day by day stateside. It has nothing to do with being stateside.Almost 2 years ago I signed a piece of paper naming me legally a wife, a bride, while The Furry One and I joked that I should take the Husband line, waiting in line at the paperwork offices and they didn't get it. He didn't get it. I so desperately wanted to take that line and yet yet look down look around and as we stood there before a judge our witnesses in goth tee shirts, I laughed and joked about health insurance... I am a proud two spirit I tell myself, proud man and woman, part of each beating in one body. I love my body, it is beautiful, people love my body, I get what I want out of my body, I can have anything I want in this body... and yet the sex goes down hill. Why, I pause, fucked up communication and a pain in my heart? No, its not about him, is it, is it me, I stand there in a dress paid for with mi padre's dollars a year and 4+ months ago after he and I debate loudly we shouldn't do this beg wedding, but everyones already bought their airfare, my bridal night a joke that not even I can laugh at.I love my, what is he? I can't even put back on Furry's ring. I've been trying for 6 weeks now. Any finger, please, any finger will do. I slide it on and it hurts. Its too heavy. I start crying. Ganesh is wearing it now, my hope that some remover of obstacles will reveal something that might somehow work... but its not about him.6 months ago Scout showed me that he would drop everything in his life for someone who came out as being trans. He looked at me, said he saw a man, could see me as it, could see me, why can't I just come out and I won't, wouldn't I refuse to be pigeon holed cubby holed and I hate the word trans anyway. What the fuck does it mean anyway? I can't be his girlfriend, his boyfiend, his lover, what am I as we put a relationship on hold and when I go the week before I leave for Australia to maybe get one last kiss, one something, he just walks away to go have a smoke.Coral gave a prophetic, true to herself knowing statement- you'll get chest surgery but never be a guy. I cried that night.At the airport Hunter called me a term he said he wouldn't. I still can't process, staring at a pair of cuff links and an aching pain somewhere in a blackness that is not mine to carry. The joy of being ridden, just what I always needed, blacked out by my partner's history.This is not about being stateside.This is about me.4 or 5 months ago, weekend of In The Woods, I decided not to go to my Aunts house. I went to mi madre's place instead, took her out to dinner, and told her that the gender decisions from when I was a teen, when I was debating surgery and pronoun changes back then, were actively back on the table. She said she loved me no matter the pronoun.A month+ ago I asked her to start calling me other names, other pronouns.I landed stateside and she called me girl twice, I called her on it, she profusely appologized- I forgave her, who cares right, 27 years its to be expected.I've already asked Furry and his parents to start calling me other names, and Furry other pronouns (we'll see what happens over Xmas), but neither he nor his parents have called me the other name out loud. It hurts. He hasn't called me he to his face, no idea other places.Why the fuck does it matter I babble to myself (you gentle readers cope, this is about me blathering, not about you) when I am so proud about being a femme at times? Why, if I like corsets, stockings, being a girl (even if not a good girl any more), a slut, a whore, a lover, someone deeply in tune with my feminism and hell, good sex with my cunt, when I use my tits as a weapon and a mask, when I enjoy femininity- why should it hurt?Because I need backed up. I need affirmed. I want to be able to be all the sides of me, and I have to hide behind what is here. I use my tits as a mask and a weapon, and I hate them. No, no one has ever told me that my tits were wrong. No, no matter how many times people ask, mi Padre never beat me or told me that he wanted a son, not a daughter, for his first and only blood... I was supposed to be the 8th first born son in a row, but he never held it against me, though he always applauded my math skills and brains over any beauty contests, not that as the fat tall kid in the class I would have won any until I hit puberty and transformed from the constipated teddy bear into the femme fatale in a few months, suddenly able to sneak into bars with the flash of a chest.I need affirmed right now because I'm going to be talking to mi padre. I haven't decided whether it will be this Thurs or Fri when I see him for dinner to pick up my visa from him for Peru, or during a week+ he and I are stuck spending together in Peru. I have no plan to sit down and say "Hola Papa, we need to talk", or "Hey Dad, so I want to be your son", because I'm not like that. I just know me, and know that it will come up eventually. In Turkey we avoided shit until day 10 when he agreed with the born again christians at the table that gay rights in marriage lead to folks having multiple wives which is bad- Don't you agree? I turned to him and said "Do I have to remind you then that I am a kinky queer bisexual pagan with multiple partners?" and he froze as he had forgotten, though he knew, and I left the room.I, for my own body comfort, can not go down to Peru and be girly the whole time. Not that I always am girly, but yeah, the 38D+ is something I'm just not dealing with well, and to be honest, I will be getting rid of in the next few years as budget allows... debate of hormones and identity aside. I will be binding. I can't debate yet if I'll pack at all, my body wants it, but my sanity isn't sure how international customs/passport stuff etc will take it, and I'm not ready to have that discussion with a peruvian border patrol officer next week. So if nothing else, binding, he will eventually ask. He is mi padre after all, and far from a dumb man.I've decided I need to talk to mi padre about this. My gran (madre's madre) was here last night and I almost had the sit down with her at 11pm as I almost freaked out as she called me girl, but they had to leave in the morning for Olympia at 5am and they both needed sleep. She was just glad I was alive and stateside.I'm not sure what to tell him though...are you a guy then?yes and no dad, I prefer male pronouns and want top surgery, will always bemoan that I was not born with exterior genitals but love the set below that I have. I think of myself as a guy, but I also think of myself as a fabulous drag queen, a feminist genderqueer, a girl, a boy, and more.so what do you want me to do about it?call me by the name I'd prefer. For other reasons but also because it feels right. I'm sorry I used certain names for certain things before. Call me by the pronouns I prefer. Help me talk to the rest of the family. Understand that I want to be more than just "your bright girl"- I want to be your child, gender aside. In my dream world I'd love help with financing my dreams, for body, spirit, and work, but I don't expect that at all. I respect you and your visions of what finances mean, hell, they've shaped so much of my self value and identity. Love me, as is? Don't stop talking to me like you did after you confronted me about being a dyke at the age of 14 on the streets of Seattle- "Young Lady, do you know what that pin means" "Yes Dad or else I wouldn't FUCKING be wearing it"- 4 hours of silence by forced visitation of the courts.and now what?I have no idea...I have been reading tales from a variety of folks who cosider themselves FtM, MtM, trans, male identified. I empathise with so many tales, but none of them are mine.I was always one of the big tough kids, regardless of gender. I was a geek first and foremost, until gender got in the way, and hell, sports never really effected me as I only really did football, and I got a note letting me out of gym due to my health.I enjoy being feminine.I enjoy being transgressive.I got to be a guy with some folks, and a woman with other, and other terms in between, sex or application of role in play.I love being fucked, and though I would prefer having exterior genitals (I can and prefer getting fucked in the ass), I also enjoy having extra holes and the ability to change sizes.I recently wrote up a bio for a site...Omnisexual Poly Sir...shall we begin with that? 11 years in the international BDSM community, from London to Seattle, Sydney to NYC. Fag boy with a twat, sadistic rope switch, Mommy (and for the rare ones, Daddy) who will whip the boys and girls into line or bake them cookies. Shaman, Trance-inducing Whore, Masochist, Hoisery and Leather fetishist Thug who loves heavy leather boots and a tight sweater. Known for my suspension, predicament and speed bondage, I am an artist at heart who adores authenticity and a slice of thuggery, on either side of the fist. And yes, lipstick or hard cock, all the images are of me. Your turn.That is sex life, but what do I want in day to day life? I keep getting asked if this is a sex thing, not sex as in gender, but sex as in fucking. Is my ID so caught up in what I want in the bedroom, that I can't see elsewhere? Can't i just be transgressive? Is that what trans ID is about? I enjoy being transformative, transformational, transcendental... are these trans? Has sex life become such a core concept of being that I can't see beyond it?No. I am an artist.I am a spiritual being, bound and trying to listen.I am a world traveler.I am open hearted and loving.I am creative.I am tied in to a variety of individuals, communities, and cultures that make me unique.A friend of mine who is active in the Dyke community but is on Testosterone and and IDs male, once told me that he goes by male because he is a two spirit and his masculine side has been sidelined for so many years. Has mine?Today I haven't cried, a pleasant change. I've been so self-focussed recently, and I hate it. I enjoy being the shoulder to cry on, and one of my... people (can I call them a partner/lover etc when I'm not being much of a partner and none of a lover?) says they are depressed, need a shoulder, and mine seems busted in? A lot of folks who are debating core life concepts become so self absorbed that many withdraw from folks i keep getting told. I keep getting told its normal. That anyone trying to make so many decisions at once- relationships, gender, work, career, location, etc... is likely to become self absorbed. Go sit on a mountain.I hate this fucking mountain.During my ritual a week+ back I realized one persons tale in it never got told, the little girl of the time. I haven't heard of her in years... what does that say?I am bundled up in layers of long johns and a sweater dress. I tried to purge clothing when I got home, just got rid of old undies and tees I don't wear any more, if I ever did. I am my ecclectic wardrobe.What does a marriage mean?What does gender mean?What does being male look like for me?What does being female look like for me?What does partnership mean?What does happiness look like?What do I do from here?I hold on to some things because I am trying to prove the punters wrong. Girls can't do that. Every marriage in 5 generations has failed, so will yours. Women can't be this and that at the same time. You have to choose a gender. Just come out already as trans, we know you are. You'll just get your chest surgery and be bi-gendered, other gendered, something else.Will you take this bitch and have me get my octalateral chest surgery? Remove all 8 tits?And where do the kids fit, if at all, flashes flashing by as years tick tick faster and faster, the reality of a biology stated from before I was born that after 30 risks of me having major complications go up if I birth anything from my loins.I go back to Portland on Friday or Saturday, head to Peru on Tuesday, day after Christmas, by way of Miami each way. I could cheat and have my plane book be some gender thing, jump start the conversation, hey, what are you reading? he always asks, then offers me a history book. Always.