So I'm a transsexual.
Could've knocked me over with a feather.
It's not really one's first thought, when you wonder why you're so terribly messed up. Or one's second thought. Or one's third, fourth or fifth.
My first thought was: I'm a lesbian. I bought a lot of scented candles, all of K.D. Laing's CDs and a tweed jacket. I liked the tweed jacket, but was still desperately unhappy.
My second thought was: I'm simply insane. I didn't buy a pinwheel hat, but did begin to look upon my desire to be a man as one in a long list of eccentricities, along with having to check the door lock seven times on my way out, wearing corded trousers and enjoying episodes of 'How Clean is Your House.'
My third thought was: I really quite fancy Hugh Laurie in 'House.' That's rather odd. I think it's the stubble. I never fancied him without stubble. I should put out these scented candles - they violate my rent agreement.
My fourth thought was: Perhaps I'm neither male nor female. Perhaps I'm fale. Or memale.
My fifth thought was: That's ridiculous. There are no such words. Keep thinking. You've nearly got the answer. Now. Let's lay out the facts before us: 1: I am biologically female. 2: I want a man's body. 3: I feel as though I have a man's mind. 4: I feel, essentially, that I am a man trapped in a woman's body. 5: Inside, I am Man. Outside, I am Woman. 6: I hate my boobies and want a penis. 7: In the sexual sense, I am what might almost be described as... trans.
No, dammit, I just can't figure it out.
Hang on a second....
And so it was that I leapt out of the bath shouting, 'Eureka! Transsexual!' I then noticed that the water level in the bath had depleted, and realised that the volume of the water displaced must have been equal to the volume of the part of my body that had been submerged in the bath. I called this 'Clive's Principle,' and realised it could henceforth be used to measure the volume of previously un-measurable irregularly-shaped objects. I was going to run through the streets naked declaring it, but I'd just realised I was transsexual and so wasn't particularly comfortably displaying my naked body.
This all happened some nine months ago. Since then I've become completely certain that I want and need to physically transition into a man, so that I can have a matching body and mind. Or at least a body that doesn't clash as horribly with the decor of my mind as my carpet does with my curtains.
That's probably the best way of describing it - I don't want to trivialise the whole situation, but any simile would, I suppose - you just can't find an analogy that's precisely equal in weight to the concept of trassexuality, you can only try to find an image that's comparable and say: now, imagine that, but with five thousand times more fear and emotional trauma. So imagine you're living in a flat that has curtains that just hideously, painfully, horrendously clash with the carpet (they're not bad curtains, they just don't go with the carpet), and the carpet's permanent (you see, that's your mind in this analogy - the carpet is your mind) and it takes you a while to realise that this is what's wrong with the flat. You try hoovering the carpet, thinking - well, it must be a problem with the carpet (the hoover in this analogy is psychotherapy. Hoover = psychotherapy) but when you do, it doesn't really make things any better, it just gets rid of some of the old rice crispies (childhood fears), Hobnob crumbs (phobias) and pieces of fluff (pieces of fluff) that were making your carpet (mind) a bit minging. Then eventually - Eureka! - you realise that you need to change the curtains.
So it's simple to understand, really.
This blog, then, is going to be a bit of a record of my changing the curtains. Removing them, looking through catalogues for new ones, browsing Ikea's market area, accidentally knocking over a massive stack of Nunbar spice tumblers and arguing with the assistant over whether or not I have to pay for them.
I hope it's not too tedious - if it gets so, please tell me. Equally, if you enjoy it, or if you're going through something similar, please tell me - there's bound to be some sort of comments thing somewhere on the page here. Equally, if you're a fundamental Christian who interprets the Bible propositionally and vehemently disagrees with this sort of thing, please leave hurtful and abusive reminders that I'll be plunged into the darkest depths of Hell. I'm up for a whole rainbow of responses.
I'm off to have a bath now. See you again soon.
