It feels like I'm trapped in a loop I can't escape, and it's all tied to this body that sometimes feels like mine and other times feels like a costume I can't take off.
My identity is fluid. Some days I wake up and feel a surge of masculine energy, and I look in the mirror and recognize the person staring back. Other days, it's a soft, feminine presence, and I feel a disconnect from my physical form. Most of the time, I'm just floating in between, a shape-shifter without a solid shape. And through all of this, there's a constant, gnawing need.
I masturbate. A lot. It's not even always about pleasure anymore. It's a compulsion. It's the only thing that feels real when my gender feels like a blur. When the dysphoria gets bad, when I feel my skin crawling because I don't know who I'm supposed to be, I retreat into it. The physical sensation is so immediate, so undeniable, that it drowns out the noise in my head for a little while. It's a way to feel something concrete in a body that feels abstract.
I use it to cope. When I feel more masculine, I touch myself one way. When I feel more feminine, it's another. It's like I'm trying to force my body to match the identity of the day, to find a moment of harmony between the two. But it's never enough. The release is temporary, and the confusion always comes back, often with a layer of shame on top.
I feel like I'm broken. Like my gender fluidity has manifested as this uncontrollable, base urge. I'm hiding it from everyone. They see me exploring my identity, maybe trying on new names or pronouns, but they don't see this. They don't see the person who sneaks off to the bathroom or stays up all night chasing a fleeting sense of peace that only comes through an orgasm that leaves me feeling more empty than before.
I don't know how to stop. I don't even know if I want to stop, because what would I replace it with? It's the only coping mechanism I have. I'm confessing because I'm tired of the secret. I'm tired of feeling like my sexuality and my gender are at war with each other, and my body is the battlefield.
My identity is fluid. Some days I wake up and feel a surge of masculine energy, and I look in the mirror and recognize the person staring back. Other days, it's a soft, feminine presence, and I feel a disconnect from my physical form. Most of the time, I'm just floating in between, a shape-shifter without a solid shape. And through all of this, there's a constant, gnawing need.
I masturbate. A lot. It's not even always about pleasure anymore. It's a compulsion. It's the only thing that feels real when my gender feels like a blur. When the dysphoria gets bad, when I feel my skin crawling because I don't know who I'm supposed to be, I retreat into it. The physical sensation is so immediate, so undeniable, that it drowns out the noise in my head for a little while. It's a way to feel something concrete in a body that feels abstract.
I use it to cope. When I feel more masculine, I touch myself one way. When I feel more feminine, it's another. It's like I'm trying to force my body to match the identity of the day, to find a moment of harmony between the two. But it's never enough. The release is temporary, and the confusion always comes back, often with a layer of shame on top.
I feel like I'm broken. Like my gender fluidity has manifested as this uncontrollable, base urge. I'm hiding it from everyone. They see me exploring my identity, maybe trying on new names or pronouns, but they don't see this. They don't see the person who sneaks off to the bathroom or stays up all night chasing a fleeting sense of peace that only comes through an orgasm that leaves me feeling more empty than before.
I don't know how to stop. I don't even know if I want to stop, because what would I replace it with? It's the only coping mechanism I have. I'm confessing because I'm tired of the secret. I'm tired of feeling like my sexuality and my gender are at war with each other, and my body is the battlefield.
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