Gender Dysphoria

So I’ve always said that I don’t have gender dysphoria. I mean I love being a boy….just not all the time….like today. I’m not sure why, but I really didn’t want to de-girl at the end of the work day. It’s possible it’s because it’s Friday, so that means no girl time for two days. This hasn’t bothered me for a while, so it’s a bit unexpected.

I really didn’t want to take my flip skirt off, or my pink mules, and I really really didn’t want to take my bra and my boobs off. And right now I really really miss them. I resorted to giving my wrist a last spray of “Dare” to help me get by. At least I could smell like Loretta for a while longer. 

Hi, my name is Loretta. I have gender dysphoria. I never recognised it until this afternoon, but it’s true. It’s just not what I thought it would be. And now looking back over the years I can see that I’ve been gender dysphoric for quite a while now. 

I had thought that gender dysphoria was the distress from having the “wrong” sex characteristics. Now I don’t actually want to get rid of my penis, and turn it into a vagina. So I thought that I wasn’t gender dysphoric. However my gender dysphoria seems to show up from time to time as anxiety and at other times depression. 

The anxiety arises when I really need to be my girl self. Usually this occurs when I haven’t been a girl for a while. The depression only seems to occur when I am a girl, and it’s time to be a boy again, and for some reason, I’m not ready to be a boy again. It’s not a big depression. I’d actually say that it’s more melancholy than depression. So none of this is a big deal. Hence my not recognising it as gender dysphoria before. But there it is, I have gender dysphoria. 

Photo by Pete Bellis 

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