The Old Self


In the post Seeing Myself, I finished saying that any hate-turned-inward is unwarranted. The conclusion that I drew, is that my mind is having a hard time catching up to the fact that I am now Rowan. No longer trapped, even though at times reality might indicate otherwise. Memories from the past, the body characteristics – they´re still there.

I hated her. My old self. I really did. I frequently self-harmed and made a few half-assed attempts to get rid of myself – unsuccessfully – because somewhere inside, I was aware of the fact that this wasn´t the real me. I just hadn´t discovered who I was, or what my place in life was supposed to be. I was 27 when finally, it hit me.

Realizing that I was not female took some time. Despite evidence to the contrary, this idea had been deeply ingrained in my head. I hated it, but I was so accustomed to hating myself because of this idea – being a woman – that I accepted it as a fact of life. I figured, maybe if I worked on myself long enough, I´d get rid of the self hate.

Since coming out and starting testosterone, a lot of doubt and internalized anger have disappeared. I no longer hurt myself as much as I did, with the exception of rare circumstances where stress grows beyond limits I can tolerate. And yet, I´ve become deeply aware of the fact that I still reject myself as if I were still female.

Like I said in that post, it seems as though my brain has a hard time adjusting to my new found identity. It is because of my body, that often still I feel trapped; and this same body tricks my brain into believing that I am not a different person. That I made no progress whatsoever. It goes back to blaming and hating me for not being different.

The longer I think about it, the more apparent it becomes that I am looking at the world through that prism of being imprisoned. It´s become so normal, so uncomfortably comfortable over the years, that freeing myself from this mental rhetoric is quite a challenge. Now, I need to experience the world as Rowan.


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