This got me to thinking about how I responded to some of the pressures you describe in my own life. I think I ended up... well, dissociating isn't quite the right word. I simply find that I don't think about my own body at all. It's never occurred to me to be proud of it or ashamed of it or try to change it. I don't spend a lot of time looking in mirrors, and I don't know if I could draw a self-portrait. My poor husband often wishes I'd spend more time and effort attending to my own appearance, but that's always just seemed to me like a strange thing to do. My body is just... a car that my brain drives around in. (Perhaps unsurprisingly, I spend very little time thinking about my cars either.) I suppose none of this sounds particularly healthy, but then again I've been spared the body dysmorphia issues that a lot of gay men struggle with, so maybe it's a blessing in disguise.
Great article 👏. Even though your situation and history differs a bit from mine, many of it still resonates with me. I guess the cult just messes us all up a bit. Happy that you’re healing!
I relate to so much of this, especially the sense of having no desire to be anything like the toxic men I grew up with. But it wasn't until this past summer that I embraced my femme traits, such as they are, without hearing the shaming voices of those men. I finally understood what the pronouns "he/they" might mean. You've been on a powerful and important journey. I know it will bless many. Glad you are writing about it.
This is great
Thank you. 😁
This got me to thinking about how I responded to some of the pressures you describe in my own life. I think I ended up... well, dissociating isn't quite the right word. I simply find that I don't think about my own body at all. It's never occurred to me to be proud of it or ashamed of it or try to change it. I don't spend a lot of time looking in mirrors, and I don't know if I could draw a self-portrait. My poor husband often wishes I'd spend more time and effort attending to my own appearance, but that's always just seemed to me like a strange thing to do. My body is just... a car that my brain drives around in. (Perhaps unsurprisingly, I spend very little time thinking about my cars either.) I suppose none of this sounds particularly healthy, but then again I've been spared the body dysmorphia issues that a lot of gay men struggle with, so maybe it's a blessing in disguise.
Great article 👏. Even though your situation and history differs a bit from mine, many of it still resonates with me. I guess the cult just messes us all up a bit. Happy that you’re healing!
I relate to so much of this, especially the sense of having no desire to be anything like the toxic men I grew up with. But it wasn't until this past summer that I embraced my femme traits, such as they are, without hearing the shaming voices of those men. I finally understood what the pronouns "he/they" might mean. You've been on a powerful and important journey. I know it will bless many. Glad you are writing about it.
Thanks so much for commenting and expressing what you did regarding your own journey. You really warmed my heart with your kindness here.