The "Wrong" Body

There's a common narrative in many trans* stories about being born "in the wrong body", or a being a woman in man's body, or vis versa. This has been exacerbated, and in some part perpetuated, by medical gate-keeping communities. (A shrink might say "Oh your story doesn't quite match up with everyone elses? No hormones for you." so what does the trans* person trying to get on hormones say? Exactly what the shrink wants hear.)
That's not to say that's the "wrong" trans* narrative. If that fits for you, then by all means use that to make sense of your identity.

But it's never really fit for me personally.

So I'm a pretty narcissistic person (understatement of the century).

I love mirrors as well as pictures of myself, but probably not for the reasons that one would expect.

I use these to gauge myself. To see how much of the person looking back at me is "me"

Usually it's not a lot. If I tilt my head a certain way, put on the right make-up, wear the right clothes and stand in specific ways, and the lighting is right, and planets are aligned, then I can almost begin to seethe person looking back at me as "me".
Pictures of me "in the wild" almost never are actually of me.

They're someone else. I remember getting the pictures taken, and I saw through the eyes of the person that was in that picture, but that was never me.

It was a puppet. I moved the strings, but the puppet was never me. Certainly mine, but never me.

This idea of ownership as well as identification I think is at the heart of dysphoria for myself.

When I look at a picture like this

Anybody who knows me would tell me that is me. But it doesn't feel that way for me. I mean technically, yes, It's me. But it feels like a puppet. A costume.

It's not a matter of poor body image. I dare say I was a pretty attractive person as a guy. I was fairly built, and didn't have any problem gaining muscle. I have a pretty good complexion and personally I think my eyes are pretty. (I told you I was narcissistic.) From the point of view of someone whose attracted to all sexes, dissociating myself from the fact that was a picture of my body, I think the guy in that picture is pretty attractive, and probably more so than I am now, presenting as a girl.

But that picture isn't me. I don't see that and see myself. That's not my body. That's not who I am. That's could just as well be some dude. But when I see that my brain has to mentally grapple with the fact that IS me.

And that's dysphoria for me.

It's not the wrong body. It's certainly mine. But it's not an indescribable "me". I don't see myself. I see a puppet.

Transitioning has and continues to make a huge difference. I can look in the mirror and seeing myself looking back at me rather than some puppet isn't a fleeting experience any longer.

It still requires some illusion, If I'm not wearing make-up or somewhat girly clothes the costume looks like it's back.

But I see photos like this that were taken as recently as this week:

 

And I see myself.

It's not perfect. I'm still transitioning. But that's an infinitely better representation of me than the last picture. Those photos are spaced at most seven or so months apart.

A lot can change in seven or so, and I'm curious about the next seven or so months.

And I'm hungry for more pictures. More pictures of me. 

I want to get know me better.

But also I want to show me to other people. I want my parents, my classmates and my sisters, my friends, and acquaintances, my lover, to all see me, and recognize me, not as some costume or puppet

But as me. 

As Natalie.

Because it makes a world of difference.