Friday, April 11, 2008


I hate my pants. Not all my pants, just the tight, show-your-figure, flare ones. I hate them. I hate my figure, I hate the constriction, I hate that I can't get the crotch of the jeans far from my crotch (it's just creepy having something right there, especially when I walk), I hate that when I finally decide to pack that it'll be too obvious in these.  I hate that I can't wear my pajama pants to class, and that all my normal pants aren't clean.

I hate that mom buys me girl clothes. I hate that it's a giant struggle to get clothes I like. I hate how mom acts like it's a personal blow that her baby girl likes boy clothes. I hate how she won't even consider that her baby girl is her baby boy. I hate that I'm willing to buy my own clothes, but can't get there. I hate that I don't have a car or license and have to rely on my parents to take me places. I hate that my parents call me a girl, especially when I finally got that blessed 'he'.  I hate that mom assumed I liked ripped clothes when I just hate shopping so much my clothes are falling apart.

I hate that mom won't listen to me. I hate that she wouldn't get me a binder because she doesn't know the health risks.  I hate that I have to wear a shirt under my binder to keep it from itching.  I REALLY hate living in the south so close to summer.  I hate that the dangerous Ace-bandage method hurt less than every bra I've ever worn.  I hate Victoria's Secret. I hate the women's department. I hate feeling like I shouldn't shop in men's. I hate that boys always get the coolest shirts and I'm stuck rooting through an innuendo-filled stack for something that doesn't say "whore" quite so loudly. Is it any wonder I just get all my shirts at museums?

I hate feeling girly just because I like guyxguy.  I hate that I'm supposed to wait for prince charming to scoop me up.   I hate that prince charming is always straight, and tries to grab me anyways.  I hate that boys can't wear dresses but girls can wear pants.  I hate it when girls pour on perfume so I gag next to them.  I hate being called a lady and having to listen to girls babble on about their love lives.  I hate prom, I hate formal gowns, I hate the drama, I hate hearing doors slam, I hate the pity of "she couldn't get a date".  I hate that it's still she.  

I hate feeling like I have to hide myself on hall.  I hate almost saying what REALLY defines me as a woman, what I'd REALLY name myself, only to realize I'm too scared to come out.  I hate that this school will not be supportive.  I hate that I have to use the women's bathrooms.  I hate that it feels like I'll never be called a boy.  I hate that it takes 4 weeks to deliver a mango.  I hate that I need a note to start HRT.  I hate that I couldn't do this yesterday, or a hundred yesterdays ago, or back before puberty started.    

I hate people that ask me why I have to get surgery.  I hate people that say they still see me as a girl even after I came out to them 3 months ago.  I really hate when they get all perverted and tell me they're picturing me as some slim, full-figured bimbo that's all hot and sweaty after a workout.  I hate people who act like they're trying to accept me as male is harder than me being TS.  I hate the "she could be a dude" jokes.  I hate that there's nothing worse than to find out your girlfriend is a post-op MtF.

And I still hate my pants.


Yew Berry Castle said...


*hugs* Hang in there!

If you want to chat on MSN sometime just let me know.

I know you're a guy. And I think you're really cool too! :-)

Ry said...

*hugs* thanks! Most people online know me as male, but nobody in person does. -_- And as anti-social as I am that shouldn't matter, but it does. :/

That'd work a bit better if school didn't suck and block MSN messenger. And half the trans sites because, as we all know, transsexual means porn. Even the sites that are cleaner than disney: nothin' but porn. *eyeroll* My school's so weird.

Thanks, though. If I ever figure out the settings so the messenger works I might take you up on that. It blocks yahoo messenger, too, but not AIM, it's really random and I'm not computer savvy enough to make it work.

thought-polluter said...

hope you feel better. i just hate it when people fail to understand your true self. it's not even that they fail to understand, it's more that they don't want to understand.

i mean whatever makes you happy, right? why should people care so much. other people are such losers.

feel better! and you can always ride the bus or grab a cab, so you could get pants that you like. =P


Ry said...

Pretty much. Some people act like it's so hard to get, but it doesn't really take that much work. A few hours on the right sites, a few questions,makes it pretty easy to understand, really. -_-

But the bus... It is scary! And never on time. I'm not sure if we actually have cabs here, come to think of it. hm.