It's 2 AM as I write this, been driven out of bed by the woman inside of me, she won't let me rest. I say that, but really it's more of a vague feminine energy that has recently taken over me. I guess she is done being ignored? A little bit of background, I've never been a manly guy, ever since I was a little kid I've constantly been told to "man up" "act more like a man" etc. my grandfather especially would not tolerate any femininity in a boy, being a hard boiled soldier. He tried to teach me to be a man and when I showed disinterest, he'd get frustrated and threaten me with violence. He'd chase me around the house with his walking cane in one hand, yelling what a thrashing he'd give me if he caught me. Speaking of those words: "man up" "be a man" etc. I've always hated them. My reaction has always been: "No thanks, you keep your stifling gender roles to yourself, thank you!" but of course I never vocalized this opinion. I guess I was around 11 years old, when a friend of mine told me about one of his sexual fantasies, in which he took the role of the woman. For some reason this really resonated with me. I can't say what I really felt all those years ago, but it stuck with me. I used to indulge in that fantasy every so often and then feel great shame about it, after all it went against everything I'd been taught. But I always came back to it. I also had a dream, but I can't remember how old I was when I had it, it was my first ever sexual dream, so I must've been very young. I've forgotten most of the details pertaining to the dream, but the core remains: a bunch of women caught up with me and apologized for the mix-up. "What sort of mix-up?" I queried as they gathered around me forming a circle. "You weren't supposed to be come out this way" They cast some sort of spell, I guess, as I quickly found myself cocooned. It didn't take long, the transformation happened quickly and I stepped out of my cocoon as a girl. The women smiled, "This is the real you, who you've always been". Unfortunately, I couldn't question the women in my dream any more as that's where the dream ended. I was shook and confused. That dream felt different than all the other dreams I'd had up until that point. It haunted me. I guess it was a pretty powerful experience considering I still remember it decades after. My teenage years were not easy. I got bullied a lot for my lack of masculinity. I guess the peer pressure of those years got to me, and I finally caved in and developed a heterosexual cismale identity like was expected of me. I buried my feminine energy deep. In my late teens or perhaps my early twenties, I could feel that energy emerge again. I was preening in front of a web camera, feeling really cute, playing with my hair when my father walked in. He gave me the dirtiest, most disappointed look ever. I couldn't bear it. Be a man. Act like a man. Those lessons that had been drilled into me once again reared their ugly head and I yielded. The next decade went by in a fog. I don't really have any memories of my twenties. I remember falling for a man, and fantasizing about him for months, but I brushed that aside, ignored my feelings, since I was now commited to my role as a heterosexual cisman. I had plenty of other problems to keep me occupied during that decade, so every other issue was pushed to the background. A year or so ago, my body started scheming against me. My hormonal balance was totally off-kilter. My testosterone was nonexistent and I had female pregnancy hormones running through my system. I started growing breasts. The fact that I was growing breasts, made me feel happy somewhere deep in my soul but I had a role to play, as a man, so I went to the doctor and I got medication to even out the hormonal storm that was raging inside of me. I thought that'd be the last of that, and with the medication I'd be able to keep up appearances for the rest of my life. Keep on fooling everyone, myself most of all. Then a month ago my heterosexual identity suffered a fatal blow. I could no longer find women sexually attractive, no matter how hard I tried. Instead I kept on fantasizing about men. I guess it started some sort of domino effect in me, as that long ignored feminine energy burst on the scene once again. "Oh great, not bad enough that I'm gay now, I'm one of those campy feminine gays" I thought to myself. And this is where it gets confusing. I can't tell if I'm just a feminine gay man or a heterosexual woman. I don't feel revulsion when I look down at my genitals. I don't really feel much anything, occasionally I might feel disappointment, but I'm in no rush to have my dick chopped off. Which brings us to tonight. Why I'm up at... well 3 am now, writing this. Ousted from my bed by this feminine energy inside of me. I imagined having a conversation about my life with my mother, and to the question "what do you want from your life" I answered: "I want a hourglass figure, I want breasts, I want to wear pretty dresses and make-up and I want a husband, someone to call me their darling wife" And that really shook me. I can't be transgender, right? This has to be something else. What if I'm just a transvestite or something else entirely? Deluded, maybe? I feel like I insult every person going through actual body dysmorphia by even thinking that my situation might somehow equate to theirs. Also I'm terrified. I'm going to buy a wig and some make-up and look at the person in the mirror, and hope against hope that I don't find myself looking back. That my initial thought won't be: "Yeah, that's me. I'm home."