Déjà-vu?

Tonight I wanna talk about something that keeps me busy for 20 years. It started after I died when I was 12. First it only happened when I was dreaming in sleep. I dreamed of an place I’ve never been before. I walked down the streets, saw the street names, the colours of the building. Soon there came voices in my dreams. I passed by strangers who were talking in a foreign language, but somehow I understood them.
One dream was very clear. I was sitting on the ground, on a carpet in front of a carmine. Behind me was a table with a bench that went around the corner. Young people were sitting on them, talking in this language I actually didn’t know. It were two guys and two girls. One guy had chin-long dark hair, one woman was blonde. The others I don’t remmeber well. The dark haired guy came over to me, asked me something and I replied in this foreign language. Then I woke up.
I can’t tell the gender I had in the dream, nor where I was at. Just from the language I could tell, it was Finland.
I have thought much about this, because those dreams happened for a very long time. They felt like memories. Which is impossible because I didn’t know those people nor the language.
When I researched more about Helsinki, I once came over photo that made me feel recognition. I knew this street and the houses shown on the photo! I had seen them in my dreams.
It gave me a very odd feeling when I travelled to Helsinki. Just when I had left the airport, a feeling of “You’ve been here before.” flooded me. I walked through the streets and found the street from my dream. I stood there a while, staring at the houses that made me feel like I should know them. But nothing happened.
Also this language. Every time I hear finnish, it gives me the feeling “You should be able to understand. You know this language.”
Honestly, it often gives me a feeling like I got amnesia and forgot who I am. Forgot things about me I actually should know about.
Learning the language now, gets frustrating. I recognize words and have the feeling, it should make sense. I just have to concentrate enough and I will understand. Again.
I don’t know about you, and you can call me crazy now, but I do believe in earlier lives. That we don’t live only once. And I have the strong feeling that in one of my earlier lives, I was a Finn.

Next time, I go to Helsinki, I will explore a bit more. Go to Suomenlinna and other places I wanted to visit but haven’t made it yet. Let’s see if it gives me a memory feeling again.

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The many faces of gender dysphoria

This beautiful article by Sam Dylan Finch (Let’s Queer Things Up!) has opened my eyes! All my life I thought that I wasn’t dysphoric, until now. Gender dysphoria was for me, this is how I got told, that you know you’re transgender and you feel a strong denying or disgust towards your body, but also you know what your body should look like. But Sam beautifully describes it’s so much more!

For a long time, I couldn’t place why — I just felt ugly.

And not just in the insecure way, but in the something-is-so-wrong-but-I-can’t-place-what way.

Yes! All my life I felt ugly. Especially in my childhood this feeling was very strong. I assumed it was because of me being very tall and due to my tumour disease, severe underweight. But the feeling lasted until my adult years. Even after I’ve had let myself persuate into becoming more feminine and people telling me how “beautiful” and how much I “look like a model”, I still felt ugly and very uncomfortable.

When I look at old pictures of myself, though, I start to understand. For one, it doesn’t even look like me.

It wasn’t that I was ugly, so much as I didn’t look like myself. But not even knowing what “transgender” meant, I didn’t have a point of reference to understand my feelings at the time.

It doesn’t look like me. This feeling I can relate to very much! Every time someone wanted to take pictures of me, I was hiding. And if they got a snap of me, I looked at it and thought “That doesn’t look like me.” But since I didn’t understand what was behind this feeling, not knowing that transgender people existed, I couldn’t tell what me should have looked like.

There’s this narrative around transness, that we all knew immediately that we were meant to transition, meant to live in a different body, that the gender we were assigned is not the gender we actually are. For many of us, however, that’s simply not our story.

Oh yes! Although I had a sense of that I wasn’t a girl, I couldn’t believe myself. It is very hard, almost impossible, to realize this if your whole life, from when you were a toddler, every adult around you tells you that you are your assigned gender.
So I came to conclusion that I was just a very odd cis girl.
I remember a situation when I was around 12, I was talking with my cousin about how much I disliked my name, that it didn’t feel like my name, that I didn’t feel like it represents me. Her response was, that she didn’t like her name either because it was complicated to spell and that every person dislikes their name and you will get used to it.
That’s not the same.
Or different situations when I tried to communicate what I disliked on my body because it feels wrong. “Every woman dislikes something on her body. That’s normal!”
For many years my actual gender dysphoria was dismissed as “normal woman feeling about their body” (can’t find more accurate words at the moment).
That’s the reason I needed 30 years of my life to get that I was transgender.

I was drawn to short hair, and after cutting it, I felt euphoric in a way I couldn’t deny.

I had my hair short as a kid, so I cut it short again after I got rid of my toxic ex-boyfriend. At first I felt shocked and sad because it was so really short. Although I always loved having short hair, in the beginning it felt bad.
All my life I learnt how a girl was supposed to be, was pressured into feminity, so I was shocked when my hair looked “too short”. Girls were supposed to have long hair, to be feminine and I was never like that. It was what I was supposed to be, what everybody around me, assumed me to be. To break out of this toxic stereotype and genderroles was damn hard and a long journey.
My transition started odd. Already before my inner coming out, I switched between masculine and feminine presentation. I liked being masculine more but I was supposed to be feminine because I was a girl. So I first came out as genderfluid. But the masculine days came often and more often, so I started to explore my identity more deeply. It was a long hard road to the thought “What do YOU want?” and not listen what I was supposed to be.

I can’t really remember when, how, I got to know about transgender people but I do remember it were only sterotype stories: Always being boyish, liking “manly hobbies”, liking girls, dressing masculine-> coming out as trans man.
That wasn’t me. I didn’t like “manly things” like cars and sports. I wasn’t interested in girls. So I thought, “I can’t be trans. I’m just a weird girl.”
Only when I was 30 I got to know about different transgender experiences, and about nonbinary people. Though when I realized that I was trans, I came out as binary trans man. I didn’t know that being nonbinary was an option, and that it was possible to live so.

Money

My parents were very poor when I was a kid. So I learned early to look for money. Still today I can’t buy things without checking price and if I can afford it. That already starts as small things like shower gel, food and clothes. Another huge problem that I have is, I can’t buy anything without to think about if I really need it. Last winter I needed a winter coat, but I thought “Damn, they’re all so expensive. Do I really need a winter coat or can’t I just wear my leather jacket with another hoodie underneath?” This thought process happens with everything I consider to buy. That’s also why I struggle a lot with picking gift wishes for birthday or christmas. I always think “No, that’s too expensive.” Even though it might just be 30€. And “I don’t really need that.” So buying things just for fun is impossible for me. A new computer game comes out? Nah, I don’t need it actually. The T-Shirt from an US shop that I like? Nah, that’s too expensive with shipping costs and you have enough T-Shirts.
It impresses me that people just go shopping and buy things! But what bothers me is, that they expect you to be the same, to have that 20€-30€ left.
Once I was looking for a new mobile phone company and someone suggested theirs to me and said “It’s only 30€ per month!” Only. Ha. Maybe for you. For me 30€ are much money. My thought when I look at a price of something is always: “From that money I could eat a whole week!” And then I don’t buy it.
Or that other time when a person from social help came looking at home to see what they can do to make my every day life easier and suggested I should buy a dishwasher. Told her that I can’t afford one. Her comment was “Well, there’s payment by installments.” I almost laughed out loud! Yeah, that’s the solution for poor people like me, right? Nope. If we ignore the fact that I only could pay max. 40€ per month, but I had to buy already things for my home via payment by installments. That adds up if you buy everything on payment by installments. It might look like a good solution but in the end you have to pay 20€ here, 30€ there and 50€ somewhere else. And you struggle again to get food on your table.
Another reason why I’m super carefully with money is, I once lived on the streets, had no money to buy me food. Every morning I woke up and didn’t know if I will eat that day. I had to beg strangers for money and food! I’m not ashamed of it, because there was no other way for me to survive. It pisses me off when people bash on homeless people. You don’t know their story. But that’s a different topic. Only that much: I’ve heard horrifying stories on my time on the streets!
That’s also a reason why I get pissed when people tell me I haven’t calculated things. You have no clue how long and much I did!
You will never know how much worth money is if you’d never lived on the minimum subsistence level.

If I can get a service dog soon?

So, in my last blog post I told you that I was thinking about to fet a service dog. Today someone came for a consultation appointment. He told me many many stuff that I still have to process. But it was very nice and positive. He said that nothing speaks against for a service dog. He also liked that I live at a forest so I don’t need to walk far to let the dog go run.
On the weekend he will send me a cost estimate for the dog and the training. He said it will be between 6000€-14000€. That’s a lot of money! Especially for me as someone who gets invalid pension. So I’m thinking about to make a crowdfunding on leetchi or something. Also I can try to contact sponsores.

If you want to support me already (I need money for medications) you can send me some via PayPal. Every Euro helps!

You can also buy my book “Black & White” : Amazon or from Epubli.

I really hope I can get the money together so I can soon get my service dog 🙂

Luka

Restless Heart (Poetry)

You have a restless heart.
You can’t stand still.
Always on the run,
looking for adventures.

You need the action
in your life.
Your heart longs for
new experiences.

You’re a traveller
with a restless heart.
It forces you to be
always on the road.

Don’t try to stop it.
It’s where you belong.
It’s who you are

Exciting. Awesome.

© 06.08.17 LJ Meindl All rights reserved.