feeling more at home in my body

It's not like I'm 'trying' to do anything new other than ditch the bras. I have an entire drawer filled with black shirts, camo pants, and idk just in general gender neutral t-shirts reading GLOBAL GAME JAM 2016 or YARINGA MARINA (where we ended up on our chaotic disaster boat trip, long story). Most aren't women's fit shirts, and I feel more at peace with them when they're bigger. It's not like I'm 'trying' to hide in baggy shirts because I am proud of my slender body, but once this chest binder thing arrives I'm certain I will feel more comfortable wearing something tighter but overall, for my entire life, I've felt more comfortable with clothes that fit loosely on me. I like 'loose' clothing, which is codename for slackydacks. My predisposition towards very loose jeans tends to look sloppy and not like how it fits on normal men, now that I think about it. Otherwise, skinny jeans are too tight and less my style, but I impulse bought a pair the other day, before I tried on baggy pants and felt dysphoric because I realised I needed the pants -- a desire to ascend beyond tomboyish.

My strong face, when paired with short hair in the past, means some people deduced I was a boy, such as the neighbor when we had a garage sale, he says to my dad: "Oh you're getting him to do all the work?" Otherwise at Adelaide Uni in a lame media class, a girl said "lets name our group 'boy band' since I'm the only girl!" Another peer messaged me saying "she thinks you're a...." to which I said, "It's fine, I don't mind."

Looking at the Ghanda brand t-shirts online (since I'm going to Glenelg today, where there's limited shopping) I feel and affinity with the buzz cut men modelling. No because of a desire to bang them, but because I wish I could 'pass' as boy. There is strong evidence believe my strong face, fit body with flat chest indicates that I can 'pass' as a sofff looking man. I've started to feel a euphoria associated with being able to feel masculine from within this biologically female body. It makes me feel strong and like these characteristics in my physique means people think this 'ugly girl' is in fact meant to be hot within a different gender. lmfao.

I've been going on about being 'the femto' or a long time. This isn't new. I have put it in my bios everywhere because femto has a dark power that is canonical. He is pretty horrible and I am willfully ignoring all of that in favour of seeing him as a transmasculine icon. I have a gorgeous expensive statuette (not a mere figurine) on my bedside drawer. It is absolutely a witches altar, complete with Ryuunosuke Uryuu figurine and a castle snow-globe-music box with a dragon winding around it, from my babysitter, which is just as Berserk-like. 

This isn't new, I've felt this way for a long time. People may think its sudden, but chopping off my hair at 2:30pm today IS sudden. Changing your hair can change a face, and therefore change how others see you. I've chopped off my hair, grown it out, repeat, for around three times since 2020. I want to stick to a haircut, and today I'm going with something with more length than a dire pixie, but enough to convey people should think before assigning me to be cis. Femto just feels sexual, feels confident with his body, feel surging with a dark power. He has hips and defined thick legs, but still looks limber, slender, muscles in all the right places. It's not a desire to boff femto, it's a desire to BE HIM. I've felt it so strongly within myself for so long, and tmi but when I look in the mirror, I don't see a gorgeous woman. I've always felt teetering on the edge of gender neutral, but I feel more than androgynous. A desire and urge and tendency to feel masculine presents itself in many ways. How I talk, what I talk about, making bro friends all the time, feeling at home with the bros, how I hold myself and so much more. I guess it is a feeling. I guess I've been fighting it because I don't want to seem like I'm jumping on a bandwagon and changing my identity, but the issue is, I've been hiding this, wearing plaid and slackydacks, and unwilling to accept I feel at home in traditionally male things. Fixating on Touhou and Berserk isn't a defining factor, but it does imply things.

People may stare at me if they feel confused, they may call me a boy/man again. I'm not rearing to change my pronouns just yet, it's more a desire to embrace this maleness within female body that fills me with gender esctasy. And I can 'pass'! I've 'passed' without even trying before! I'm hoping these thoughts don't fade. It doesn't feel like a whim. It feels like a way of redefining myself to embrace what I'm already been doing so naturally. So yeah, not a whim. Not a phase. It's been a long time coming and a lot of repressing to get to the stage where I realize, this body is hot, and I can be hotter.

Over and out.

my big fat transmasculine struggle with dressing myself

Since depression and soul crushing dread of psychosis, I find it impossible to dress myself very well. I am only accepting this now as I begin to peel myself out of depression. I used to struggle with ironing, folding and such a tad, but since psychosis, I've fallen into terrible slovenly habits.

I'm slender, athletic without doing much more than speed walking, and can easily wear size 8 bottoms although I have so much size 9 things. I just bought some size 8 cargo style black pants that sit perfectly at my waist, despite recent years of me not really exercising harder than just casual walking and rowing machine once in awhile. Point is I'm healthy and slim, that's not the problem. I haven't flaunted it, barely ever, that's the issue. :(

I've been posting selfies of me in changerooms at Levi's and Cotton On lol, where I speed-bought jeans and some stuff all in a morning. I have a bad habit of buying things that don't suit me. Everything I own can be summarised in a few categories, let me explain.

--Shit I bought for the pattern or design, such as baggy Moomin tees from UNIQLO. Not flattering or at least, I don't pair them the right way. The pattern attracted my artists eye lmfao.

--Shit that family has given me that I will never wear, such as massive yellow 'skirt' from Sri Lanka. Sorry dad. I'm terrible, maybe I'll wear it this summer to the beach.  :(

--Shit that I bought and have worn into the ground. I now have jeans with unfashionable holes in them. 

--Shit that I impulse bought but struggle to pair it the right way, such as having the right bra for, such as a tiny green 'corset' style top that I'm terrified of revealing so much skin or wearing it the wrong way. I admit, I don't have the fashion sense to know if I can wear a shirt under it. 

There's plenty more, but many of the things I own can fall into those above categories. I have hoodies that have frayed at the seams from overwearing, jeans that have become baggy although I've stayed the same skinny for years. I don't know, but I had a near breakdown yesterday because family pointed out that I don't put in much effort with how I look, and astutely pointed out that everyone dresses up because they want a partner. I'm not actively looking for a partner, but fuck, I would like to make a sexy impression.

I realised in utter despair, that my room was monstrously chaotic. Everything higgledy-piggledy in drawers, not sorted, not folded. Its embarrassing to admit I haven't taken pride in something so basic. This has been the damage of 'depression', nah bro, utter 'dread', utter 'hopelessness', utter 'i-don't-really-feel-alive-without-art-skills', that's what it is. I should be proud that I'm doing it now right? Well, future me will be happy once I've spent a week wearing matching socks for once. Once I've worn a top that isn't stained or wrinkled in a corner. Much of this stuff I need to throw away, not donate, because I've stained in all my artistic rampages like when screen printing. I can donate a lot, and I bet some people would be over the moon to have a Charmander, Squirtle and Bulbasaur tee, or a frilly orange floral top, the latter being a feminine style I don't like on myself.

My style is nearly masculine and that's my issue. I've been overdoing it on the plaid for ages, something that makes my skinny body get lost in the folds. But...can I be 'tomboyish' without hiding my body by mistake? I think wearing this black pants are a start, wearing shirts that fit me. Doesn't have to be feminine lacy thin strappy things, but I like tank tops and bold, 'strong' feeling clothes. 

I'm going to work with what I have. 

I'm going to not have a breakdown, but it was warranted. I feel like I had no pride in my body before I cleaned my room and went shopping this Saturday morning. I need to have pride in my body, and that isn't just showering regularly despite depression, but presenting myself with pride. I admit it now. I'm not going to cry, I'm just going to deal with it and go shopping and organise what I have. I have no doubt my family will still think these Cotton On bold black pants are too close to what I had before, but I saw countless women with similar pants on, owning it. know they mean well, but I need to tell my family to back off somedays. 

It comes down to some gender I'm still....grappling with despite my age.

I admire cute frilly lacy pink clothes on women, because I can be attracted to women. I want to express myself as a 'tomboy' but have always thought I am a....cis...woman? Hiding in plaid and hoodies every day may not be good for my self esteem, but I'm not about to go and lie to myself and wear things that straight men want to see. It does speak to the gayness in me and makes me realise, I may not fit well into either categories of butch or straight girl. I have even questioned about being transmasculine briefly in the past, especially when manic, note the 'when manic' part.

Thus, there is a bit of incongruity over how I currently present myself. :(

I may try to wear a cute skirt like I did last Tuesday, but my somewhat masculine bits to me scream a different message. My brain begins to revolt and I realise as extremely autistic, I may struggle more with knowing what my heart wants. I don't even know why I have felt like a star-shaped peg in a boring square hole.

I'm fearful to 'present as male' or whatnot although I have accidentally in the past, as a pixie cut makes me a man apparently. Also I'm reluctant to say I'm transmasculine simply because I exert that sort of 'non-female' aura sometimes.  It's all very confusing. I met some 'gender fluid' people at Autism Meetup so I understand I'm not alone. It made me realise I might have been repressing it. I don't care about belonging with the in-crowd of LGBTQI+ (far from it),  I care about being true to myself. So with much deliberation...I am starting to understand myself through clothes.

Right now, I realise this wardrobe angst is in fact over something deeper. A angst with what I wear is tied into me not feeling happy with how I present myself. Not quite straight, not quite womanly. Not quite confident in this skin, although I'm attractive I guess? I am terrified now that I begin to contemplate it. Probably because I haven't accepted my behaviour and personality is 'masculine' to some extent, more than some of these other gender fluid folks, honestly. 

But telling people you're transmasculine, trans.... sounds like an extreme decision. I don't want to cut my hair short again right now and force people to say a different pronoun. I still feel like a woman. It's funny how psychosis shows a big fat 'capital T' Truth. It feels good to not force myself into skirts but also, it feels good to be balanced. To be me. I think I am softly trans if anything. I just want to be me.

All I know is every time I wear a skirt, a pink top, or lipstick...

I realise I'm lying to myself. 

Over and out.

masking your true self comes at a big cost

In situations where I have to make and keep friends, I have masked. When I'm my most successful (at masking), people will tolerate me. Yet on days if I am unsuccessful (at masking), they will mostly likely dislike me and I therefore lose connection and even respect. All my life, I have wanted to seem likable. So, I have masked.

It has offended me when someone in my sphere of family said: "poor men, they have more disabilities, like autism" which even if they statistically have more autism, completely undermines autistic female suffering and how we're undiagnosed.

If I say the wrong thing, make the wrong facial expression, it's always: "oh vela doesn't like me." snidely whispered behind my back by whiny girls. It never takes into account the autistic woman as someone who is attempting to be 'normal' and 'likable' at a cost. Regardless of being male or female, neurotypical social nasty games always come down to ostracising the autistic person because they struggle to keep up. Its always about what you wear, how you talk, how nicely you compliment others. 

"Love your hair!"

"Oh you're looking so good today!"

"That's such an amazing drawing!"

I struggle to compliment people unless I really mean it, something in my brain doesn't align with schmoozing up to others. This isn't because I mean to be mean! It's because something about my genetics means I just...can't! Of course, I am impressed by people's art, I just don't like commenting on their tattoos and dyed hair, usually because I'm not impressed.

Masking comes into play with how you present yourself to others. As far as what you wear, its how people determine your competence in some ways. When I wear a slightly wrinkly shirt to work, I have no doubt people consider me as disheveled, which may indicate I am maybe lacking in other areas; such a self hygiene, focus, and even extend to determine my quality of work. Is it too much of a stretch to think that? I don't think so! I think it makes sense. Everyone wants to look their best, not have a grown-out mullet of a haircut (erhem, like I totally don't have), and people make assumptions. Of course, the biggest thing about this is...

...men get away with wearing a disheveled plaid shirt. Women don't. Not trying to alienate male readers but its true. I feel like a outcast some days, but feel like a witch on my best days. I love myself for the baggy plaid shirts and unshaven legs hidden behind jeans.(Tmi? but hey I did shave them yesterday.)

Masking means making extra effort to smile otherwise I may appear cold. Masking means making sure I give compliments and let people know something is 'awesome' or 'good work' even if I may sound off in this, because it's hard for me to force. For me, masking even means what you chose to wear fashionable outfits in order to be 'less autistic'. Because I love to slide into some daggy jeans and plaid shirt, but sometimes even my dad will remark on my pile of ironed plaid shirts, concerned I'm wearing them too much.

Being authentic while autistic means carving a special space where you can be yourself. Blogging and writing in general is definitely that. Although I still may be able to do drawings like the ones below, its far and few between that I actually feel they are of any quality. I also try to (gratitude) journal which is just more writing I guess. I did Feng Shui and rearranged my craft room space so now it's extra spacious, and my drawing space is much lovelier and tidier than before. 

This cost of masking has been so ingrained in me its hard to separate what is authentic me from some imitation trying not to offend people. I don't have these intensely rude thoughts, my issue is more that I'm strange and intense. Being that means I just will weird people out for openly talking about true experiences that are very disturbing for most, predominately psychosis. I always was intense. Always a bit unhinged, but I had a pride. Oh, I think my pride used to be big. Pride was mostly art and those skills however, so without it, I'm struggling with scooping up even a scrap of pride now. Anyways, I want to make new friends and be my openly weird self, forge connections that matter, but then again they'll read this and realise I'm insecure about that process, and people get creeped out. This is why I'm tagging this 'overthinking'. I know I'm lovable, but rebuilding myself post three psychoses has been one wild ride. I'm hoping to publish an autism and bipolar essay in a mental health themed publication if I can whip it into shape in a few days, but I won't count my chickens before they've hatched.

Over and out.