Sexuality, and the Difference Between Chasing Happiness and Being Happy
My ear infection isn't bothering me. It might be on its way out, or the ibuprofen is working--one or the other. We'll see how I feel tomorrow. If I wake up in splitting pain, it's off to urgent care for a prescription. And because I've had somewhere around five hundred million ear infections in my lifetime (statistic might be exaggerated), I know exactly what they're going to prescribe me, and I just wish I could go down to the pharmacy now and tell them exactly what to give me, instead of going to the doctor and wasting time. Amoxicillin, three times a day for a week. Boom. Problem solved.
ANYWAY...
I feel like writing about sexuality.
When I was growing up, I was the weaker nerdy kid that attracted the insults (usually negative gay epithets) of bullies. Even women, to whom I was attracted to mostly at the time, joined in on the mudslinging. This was usually happening back in middle school, a place effectively a war zone for children it seems. I didn't start coming out of my shell socially until high school. I did this by being more comfortable with myself. I grew my hair long, because that's the way I'd always wanted it. When people saw my confidence, it changed the way I was perceived in general. I started dating. I still stuffed my feelings for the same sex back in the closet, along with the deeper trans-feelings, further down the rabbit-hole called my brain. (I was already cross-dressing by the end of middle school, but I think at the time I thought I was just acting out some weird fantasy behind closed doors and considered myself kind of insane for it. I also had no concept of sex changes or even the concept of myself going through one. I was ignorant about it.)
So I dated this one girl. Then, I got bored, and dated someone else. Then another after that. Then I started going to parties, skipped the dating thing entirely, and proceeded straight onto the wild and freaky world of casual coitus. I think, because I became this more confident individual and it showed, it began to attract people, whereas my previous awkwardness scared people off. I think this happens to a lot of people post high school. You grow up, you mature, you shine, and you find happiness. I wasn't happy. Something was obviously missing. But I was having fun. Fun and happy don't always intersect together. ("Fun" is fun, and happiness is fun, but "fun" isn't happiness.) When the casual thing got boring, I dated people who weren't intellectually stimulating in the slightest, but had similarly ludicrously-sized libidos.
A barrel-full of intoxicants and copious meaningless sex later, I was still not happy. But I did figure out somewhere along the way that I was bisexual. This seemed like the first meaningful breakthrough I'd ever had in my entire life. It was mind blowing. I needed to pursue this. But I was still attached to the concept of meaningless "fun" and it's miniature euphoric moments which, like drugs, provided fleeting glimpses of happiness without actually being happiness.
Sex was one of those things. I overcompensated from being a geeky little doof and became a total horndog. I exploited my own newfound confidence and used sex like a drug, to hide from my own deeper issues I refused to face head on. I made a lot of mistakes along the way.
When I tried doing the gay thing for a while, thinking my own feminine traits were simply sexuality related, I tried to immerse myself in the gay community. I dated men. I went to clubs. After a while, I felt a little silly and forced. I'm not that kind of queer, I finally decided to myself. I mean, I had these feminine feelings still, but was I just straight and mentally unstable? What the hell was going on? I still had attraction to the same-sex, but everyone that liked me in the gay community seemed to like me for the wrong reasons. I had no idea what that meant, but it was almost like they saw something on the outside that I didn't perceive was there. Only recently could I pinpoint what this actually meant.
It means I perceived myself as a woman, and I felt uncomfortable with the fact that they perceived me as a man. A gay man. I wasn't this. I'm a bisexual girl trapped in the body of a guy. Once this hit me, I suddenly felt very vulnerable. Suddenly everything made sense. I knew why I always felt awkward in relationships. I knew why I felt weird when people would give me compliments on my looks. It didn't seem real. They weren't talking about me. Or at least, that was what was going on in my head.
I'm really done chasing happiness.
Happiness comes from within. No more "fun." I mean, no more fun with quotes around it. Real fun isn't fleeting and escapist like a drug. No more meaningless relationships. No more meaningless sex. I can't put myself into that position anymore. It's ultimately defeating. I have more self-respect than that, especially now.
So, I've decided to date no one until my transition is complete. I've done enough dating in my lifetime and had enough random cheap nonsense to last a lifetime already. These next few years, I will focus on generating my own happiness, not trying to seek it in simple pleasures and finding it only in transient passing. When I'm truly happy with myself and can see myself in the mirror in the same way I feel inside, I think I can begin to forge new relationships and find my other half.
I'm evolving. I'll be a butterfly before you know it. Get ready...
Like a butterfly,
Tea
ANYWAY...
I feel like writing about sexuality.
When I was growing up, I was the weaker nerdy kid that attracted the insults (usually negative gay epithets) of bullies. Even women, to whom I was attracted to mostly at the time, joined in on the mudslinging. This was usually happening back in middle school, a place effectively a war zone for children it seems. I didn't start coming out of my shell socially until high school. I did this by being more comfortable with myself. I grew my hair long, because that's the way I'd always wanted it. When people saw my confidence, it changed the way I was perceived in general. I started dating. I still stuffed my feelings for the same sex back in the closet, along with the deeper trans-feelings, further down the rabbit-hole called my brain. (I was already cross-dressing by the end of middle school, but I think at the time I thought I was just acting out some weird fantasy behind closed doors and considered myself kind of insane for it. I also had no concept of sex changes or even the concept of myself going through one. I was ignorant about it.)
So I dated this one girl. Then, I got bored, and dated someone else. Then another after that. Then I started going to parties, skipped the dating thing entirely, and proceeded straight onto the wild and freaky world of casual coitus. I think, because I became this more confident individual and it showed, it began to attract people, whereas my previous awkwardness scared people off. I think this happens to a lot of people post high school. You grow up, you mature, you shine, and you find happiness. I wasn't happy. Something was obviously missing. But I was having fun. Fun and happy don't always intersect together. ("Fun" is fun, and happiness is fun, but "fun" isn't happiness.) When the casual thing got boring, I dated people who weren't intellectually stimulating in the slightest, but had similarly ludicrously-sized libidos.
A barrel-full of intoxicants and copious meaningless sex later, I was still not happy. But I did figure out somewhere along the way that I was bisexual. This seemed like the first meaningful breakthrough I'd ever had in my entire life. It was mind blowing. I needed to pursue this. But I was still attached to the concept of meaningless "fun" and it's miniature euphoric moments which, like drugs, provided fleeting glimpses of happiness without actually being happiness.
Sex was one of those things. I overcompensated from being a geeky little doof and became a total horndog. I exploited my own newfound confidence and used sex like a drug, to hide from my own deeper issues I refused to face head on. I made a lot of mistakes along the way.
When I tried doing the gay thing for a while, thinking my own feminine traits were simply sexuality related, I tried to immerse myself in the gay community. I dated men. I went to clubs. After a while, I felt a little silly and forced. I'm not that kind of queer, I finally decided to myself. I mean, I had these feminine feelings still, but was I just straight and mentally unstable? What the hell was going on? I still had attraction to the same-sex, but everyone that liked me in the gay community seemed to like me for the wrong reasons. I had no idea what that meant, but it was almost like they saw something on the outside that I didn't perceive was there. Only recently could I pinpoint what this actually meant.
It means I perceived myself as a woman, and I felt uncomfortable with the fact that they perceived me as a man. A gay man. I wasn't this. I'm a bisexual girl trapped in the body of a guy. Once this hit me, I suddenly felt very vulnerable. Suddenly everything made sense. I knew why I always felt awkward in relationships. I knew why I felt weird when people would give me compliments on my looks. It didn't seem real. They weren't talking about me. Or at least, that was what was going on in my head.
I'm really done chasing happiness.
Happiness comes from within. No more "fun." I mean, no more fun with quotes around it. Real fun isn't fleeting and escapist like a drug. No more meaningless relationships. No more meaningless sex. I can't put myself into that position anymore. It's ultimately defeating. I have more self-respect than that, especially now.
So, I've decided to date no one until my transition is complete. I've done enough dating in my lifetime and had enough random cheap nonsense to last a lifetime already. These next few years, I will focus on generating my own happiness, not trying to seek it in simple pleasures and finding it only in transient passing. When I'm truly happy with myself and can see myself in the mirror in the same way I feel inside, I think I can begin to forge new relationships and find my other half.
I'm evolving. I'll be a butterfly before you know it. Get ready...
Like a butterfly,
Tea