Thoughts From The Peacock Angel

severin-bitch:

The Peacock Angel a.k.a. Madeira, who identifies as a genderfluid femme.

I had experienced dysphoria before I came across Madeira’s blog, but I always ignored it.  There were many aspects that I loved about being female — I liked wearing makeup, cute shoes, dressing up, my medium-length wavy hair, and my curves (on a good day).  I thought that if I liked being a femme woman most times, then my dysphoric feelings were really just a heightened attraction to men — I didn’t want my own flat chest; I liked men because they have flat chests.  Freud’s theory regarding penis envy made sense to me because I have always wanted a penis, and I’ve had penis envy ever since I learned how to make men cum but still couldn’t bring myself to orgasm.  I didn’t know how to maneuver my own vagina (society is partially to blame for this, but that is another issue/story).  It wasn’t until I was 20, had had two boyfriends, two breakups, and two vibrators later that I had my very first orgasm.  Part of me thinks that if I had the penis I had always wanted, I wouldn’t have spent most of my puberty in the heat of sexual frustration.

During the past few months, I realized that much of my obsession with the cis male physique isn’t solely based on attraction, but envy.  In P.E., I would think about how lovely it would be to go for a jog without a sports bra — to not have to worry about my chest hurting from all the movement and my boobs from jumping up and down and creating a spectacle.  Other times, I like their size — a “nice handful” as past lovers have told me.  However, I have never gotten rid of the feeling that I was not meant to have a vagina.

It’s difficult not to feel ashamed.  I don’t fit in with trans* circles because I was assigned female at birth and present as a femme woman all of the time.  My feelings of dysphoria come in waves; sometimes I feel very dysphoric, and then I won’t have these feelings for days or weeks at a time.  It wasn’t until recently that I began resenting the fact that I am always referred to as a woman.

Now my point after this very long story: Madeira showed me that you can present yourself as extremely femme and still be genderfluid; still be a man some days, be a woman on other days, but be femme on all days.  While I do not know how to label my gender, Madeira showed me that I can look as femme a I do and still not define myself as a woman.

I feel all warm and fuzzy inside.