My psychological poison

Four days tear free!  I think I'm now out of the hole and able to take a look around at this brand new world and find ways of dealing with my lack of acceptance.  Today I'm going to a psychologist who deals strictly with the transitioning person, but because of my dire circumstances, she's agreed to see me.

She spent half an hour on the phone with me just talking before actually booking a time and day to continue the conversation.  This is a good person.  She really does care.  It seems what she feels is that my idea of 'happily ever after' needs an alternative ending.  I need to re-write my fairy tale and in turn, create a new way of thinking.

True.

I started one new way of thinking yesterday.  I realized that every time my love would mention 'T', I would feel nauseas and disturbed.  Partly from my own fears and partly from the memory of a picture that has distressed me so much, I may never forget it.

It is a picture of an F-M who has a bushy moustache (eww! my love please don't do this!!) and slicked back black hair.  Their pants are to the floor, one foot placed heartily on a chair exposing a bright happy ass cheek.

Now, that I can handle, but the one thing that haunts me every day, and every time my love refers to 'T', is the fact that this person has a pretend needle and is miming shooting testosterone in that bare beautiful orb.

The moment I saw it, I felt that this person is making a mockery of a serious life choice.  Making light of it so that it's comical, and in turn letting people know that to them it's 'no big deal'.  It may not be what they're trying to portray, but to someone closed minded and highly opinionated about the topic like myself, this is what it screamed to me.

Making a decision to transform is a major life changing resolution.  Sometimes, I feel that there are a lot of people who haven't found their way in life, looking to those who have transformed, and decide that it's attractive, therefore wanting to be 'that' person.  It scares me that a less than seasoned soul would see this picture of someone's personal strength, and their youthful mind would say, "That's so cool!  I think that's who I want to be."

They change their entire lives and the lives of those around them.  But do they really have gender dysphoria?  Or is it an epidemic of a lost psyche who hasn't matured enough to know who THEY really are?  Is it someone who has been bullied and taunted throughout their life because they are a masculine female and can't live with the embarrassment of who they were born to be?

Personally, I am one of the many femmes in this world who find butch women the sexiest people alive.  So when people take that away from myself and other butch lovers, there's one less in the world to adore.

In my opinion (which doesn't mean much, I just need to say it) masculine, butch women ARE transgendered.  They're a beautiful mixture of all life's glory.  They are the most special people on the planet, and they're becoming an endangered species.

We're losing our butches to male transformation.  One by one they're disappearing never to be seen again, falling into line with the others who have crossed over to the other side.  It kills me, and what I learned from 'my person' is she feels the same way too.

I'm only at the beginning of starting to understand this whole topic, because I have closed my eyes to it for fear.

The one thing that scares me the most is the testosterone.  People are adding this poison into their bodies, changing their landscape forever, and taking away another masculine woman.

So when my love speaks of 'T', I die a little inside and want to scream, "Don't talk about it!!!"

Yesterday, I asked Papi if we could refer to it as hormones.  That way the vision of that picture may not come to my mind every single time mi esposo says the dirty word.

I don't know if this will help me start to think differently about this poison, but it's worth a shot.

Oh my god, that was a really bad pun.

If you can't forgive me for my opinion, at least forgive me for the pun.