This blog is now more than a year old. Congratulations to myself, I am astonished that I made it this far. At the same time, I have to admit that the blog is currently falling short.
My previous rhythm of every fortnight seems unthinkable and even though I still have so much to think about, I have so much less energy to write them down. I don’t know her exact words, but a wise woman once said: „If you want to write, don’t let them stop you“, but at the same time „don’t force yourself and take your time“ and I couldn’t find better words for my situation at the moment.
The Trans or the whole genderbending, biohacking, revealing-my-true-power-level or dick-erection process:
In the meantime I’ve had a pack of gooey Testogel and two injections. If someone were to ask me which I preferred, I would say that both have their advantages and disadvantages. While the gel feels like bathing in lubricant every morning, the syringes simply have a stronger effect.
Hair grows, the libido shoots up like a rocket, the throat itches, everything itches and the skin develops into a single crumb cake. Nonetheless, I think I have never been happier in my whole life. Despite all the stress or inconvenience that life brings, the sun is always shining in my brain. The colors seem brighter, I have more energy and in general I ask myself „How could I ever be depressed?“
It really is amazing what hormones can do. I get an injection once every six weeks and my brain is in seventh heaven and after that my body changes without me having to do anything about it. It’s a kind of biochemical self-runner and somehow it’s incredibly fascinating.
At the same time, I am amazed at all the trans people who record every aspect of their transition. Writing diaries, taking photos and voice recordings, painting, drawing, yoga or dancing… Where do they find all this time or energy? I’m glad to finally have enough energy to get through the day and not realise halfway through that I can only work with a spoon for the remaining four hours. On the other hand, maybe I shouldn’t wish I had to process so much.
Being trans was somehow always part of my life, even if I didn’t have words for it yet. However, it was always just one part of many and I was never forced to organise my entire life around being trans. As a child, I was allowed to live quite „gender free“, for which I am still very grateful to my parents until today. I was also one of those people whose dysphoria mostly manifested itself in social rather than physical contexts and my depression always fell into the „high functioning“ category. At the same time, especially in the later years, I had the feeling that if I made being trans my main purpose in life, I would not survive a reality in which I could not transition… Thoughts and feelings are quite complex, aren’t they?
For Christmas, my parents gave me various fashion magazines for men, accompanied by the words: „We think we’re the wrong role models, but maybe you’ll find a few ideas in here about what kind of man you want to be.“ Weeks later, I flicked through the pages and got lost in thought again. Sure, the photos all looked stunning, but at the same time their message was so „meaningless“? I could clearly see that the aesthetics or the artistic expression were trying to tell me something, but nothing more than „Buy this product“ or „Desire me“ came across to me. What’s more, neither message did not appeal to me. I would never be able to afford the clothes from the luxury brands, nor did I find the majority of the models really appealing. After hours of musing, I decided that I would just stop thinking about what or who I wanted to become. I would simply become the man that I would become and that this was good and that this would always be enough.
The Kink:
Looking back over the last year and a half, I would say that getting into kink is a quest, an adventure and a journey all at the same time. The quests are short-term goals like finding a munch, going to this specific party or saving money on this specific flogger.
The adventure is getting involved in BDSM or kink in the first place. Maybe you have a specific goal that you want to achieve in a certain amount of time, maybe it’s just a string of different quests, or maybe you’re still discovering your goal.
The journey is the big picture: Finding friends, being out and about, doing quests, overcoming adventures, solving (polyamorous-) riddles, falling in and out of love… the list is endless and as I write this, I realise… I set myself up for quite a life, haven’t I?
Be that as it may, while I cannot influence what the future holds, I can at least learn lessons from the past. They are neither new nor creative, but innovation was never really the point of this blog, let alone this post. But that brings us to the first point: The Internet likes content, preferably free of charge.
Producing content is hard, producing good content in a short space of time is even harder and producing good content in a short space of time that is also innovative is difficult or even impossible in my private life. Which is a shame… At the same time, there are plenty of other blogs that are a better source of technical and interpersonal advice for kinky relationships than I am.
The second point: the good old „fear of missing out“ is a bitch. You don’t go to every regulars‘ table? You don’t share the same kinks as everyone else? You want to go to kink parties but they are not barrier-free, too late, too loud or too crowded? Polyamory is neither your orientation nor your preferred lifestyle? In general, finding a (play)partner is a challenge? The relationships that develop never last long? Whatever the individual problems may be… Nobody is alone in this and no matter what the exact point of view may be: You are kinky enough. Even if the Imposter Syndrome kicks in, nobody is going to come and take your hobby or your identity away from you. If they try, please leave them, they aren’t worth it. Seriously.
The third and last point: The best way to make connections and find partners or doms or subs or fellow kinksters is to stop searching. Sounds suboptimal, but it has always worked well for me in the past: Visit munches, talk to people, be out and about and something or someone will come around. If not, one will still meet awesome people. One thing I can actually say is that I decided for myself last year that my life should be more about platonic and deep friendships and less about romance. If it happens, great, and if it doesn’t: I will still have my friends who will support me and whose relationships I will be able to maintain far longer than lust or romance.
The Feelings:
Feelings. Yes, they also happened… or better they are always and always will be happening. What should I say more? For some people falling in love and falling out of love again is just how things are. Nothing really special, despite falling out of love quite sucks. Especially if it is one’s first break-up, after six weeks of grieving, I reached a plateau of resentment, frustration and a lot of other leftover feelings. They were too big to swallow and so I just left them out in the open, in the great plains of my brain ready to see them rot. Unfortunately, they were pretty clingy and not ready to rot, so I had to confront them sooner than I would have liked to.
Maybe that was my luck, because as soon as I closed one door, another opened and I stepped inside. People always warn about transitional relationships or re-bounds, but so far neither of these have happened. As much as I appreciate multiple partners, I’m always overwhelmed by how much work it takes to get to a point where I think: It works out! Especially as this is only a snapshot in time. Just because things are going well today, they can be completely different tomorrow.
The Arts:
There’s a category here on my blog called „The Arts“ and I know it’s still empty. When I created the blog, I had the hope of having more time for myself and „art“… but the hope remains just a hope to this day. I can’t have everything. Nevertheless, I can still write a short paragraph about art. There’s a quote from an author that I appreciated in my youth: „Art wasn’t supposed to look nice; it was supposed to make you feel something.“
This quote accompanied me through my Bachelor’s degree and, above all, saved me. Every time I stood in front of yet another monumental oil painting and could think nothing other than „nice?“, I clung to this quote… it permitted me to simply conclude that if I felt absolutely nothing, it wasn’t (good?) art. Or maybe it wasn’t art at all and just happened to get lost in a museum. Kunsthistorisches Museum in Vienna and it was the third day of a long series of dehydrated hours in overheated rooms in front of world-famous paintings that meant absolutely nothing to me. Until one day I turned to my right and stood in front of Pompeo Batoni’s „The Return of the Prodigal Son“. Not a minute later I was crying like a baby, this painting didn’t just speak to my trans self it screamed at me. Till today I never really could pinpoint why, I wasn’t raised Christian and The Parable of the Prodigal Son was one of the few Parables that I knew. Still, something about being forgiven for some horrible deeds just struck me.
In the end, I am still kind of upset that it was a rococo/neoclassicist painter who made me cry and not the infamous Rothko. I would have been a much better fit since I mostly engaged in expressionism and all the other Western art movements in the early 1900s. But since I knew that Rothko was deliberately interested in expressing basic human emotions and enjoyed when people started crying in front of his paintings. It always felt like I would give him credit for something that he expected me to do, which isn’t the point of art?