Blog Entry: I (don't) pass dysphoria...

I (don't) pass dysphoria... I pass in pictures of my face on the internet.
I pass when in the kayak store, before I've said any words.
I pass when at a restaurant in New Hampshire, and I haven't said any words.
I pass when I go to meetings about how to start a GSA, and I introduce myself as Nick, not Rachel.

I don't pass in school, where everyone knows me as Rachel, not Nick.
I don't pass at home.
I don't pass when I don't wear my binder (which I'm truly starting to get sick of putting on every day >.>)
I don't pass when I speak.
I don't pass when I'm in a store.
I don't pass when I'm with only people that I'm out to.
I don't pass when I'm at the grocery store, in line behind an old lady, and I have to reload my groceries into the cart because the register broke and I have to go to a different one.

I feel dysphoric when I look down and I see my chesticles.
I feel dysphoric when I'm trying to do a self portrait for art class, and I can't because I can't accept my face as female, which ultimately results in my failing of the class.
I feel dysphoric when I'm requesting info from colleges, and I have to put that I'm Rachel, and I'm a female.
I feel dysphoric when my mom even mentions prom dresses, since I'm being forced to wear one to my prom.
I feel dysphoric when my own GENDER therapist MISgenders me. (It seriously almost made me cry)
I feel dysphoric when I'm talking about the stupid fucking fake baby, and they say I was his mommy.
I feel dysphoric when I stalk the FTM tag on tumblr.
I feel dysphoric when I tell someone to suck my big fat cock, and then I remember that my cock can't be big and fat, because I don't even have one.
I feel dysphoric when I'm crying myself to sleep because I have chesticles and a vag, not a penis and moobs.


My point is: I don't understand how people could possibly think that being transgender is a choice. You think I fucking enjoy crying myself to sleep? You think I enjoy people staring at me in public, trying to figure out if I'm a guy or a chick? You think I just love it when I get bashed by a guy who I'VE NEVER EVEN MET on an iPod game, just because his religion says I'm a freak? You think I like waking up in the morning, feeling like crap because I don't fucking like the body I was born in? You think I like the idea of having to take hormones for the rest of my life, AND getting surgeries just to feel better about me?

Heh. You better get your head out of your ass.