#dysphoria mention | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

transtalesofdoom · 2 months

Text

The Egg Years and being Cis-Adjacent

I originally made this blog to talk about my new and exciting trans experience, so let's go do that. Long post, obviously and I just figured out how to do the Keep Reading thing

I didn't have any inherent dysphoria growing up, I was just a bit of a not-like-other-girls tomboy. Jeans were comfier than dresses, boobs and bras were sooo inconvenient, make up just meant more effort. Books and video games were more fun than going out to party. I wasn't good at dancing anyway. And don't even get me started on shaving your legs.

It became obvious to me that I wasn't strictly cis pretty much as soon as I learned that gender wasn't binary. It was common sense, really. If gender is a spectrum, very few people would actually find themselves on the very end of either side. So most people were just close enough to either end of the spectrum to consider themselves cis. Including myself.

As my understanding of gender grew, it became more and more ridiculous to assume anyone was 100% cis. There's always some criterion you don't fully meet. Of course, people could still use and identify with the label of cis, clearly there was some sort of leeway. But calling myself cis started to feel wrong. It felt like I was ignoring the very nature of gender as a vast spectrum by picking a label rooted in the binary. I was cis, but in a queer way. I started calling myself cis-adjacent when talking to other queer people.

I never had a "problem" with my assigned gender at birth, outside of the patriarchy and sexism and periods, but those weren't trans reasons to resent being a woman. Being a woman suited me well enough. I wouldn't have cared if I wasn't, if I woke up one day without boobs, I'd just go on and fit into shirts much more easily. I considered "gender-apathetic" as a label, but ultimately it felt like too much hassle for something I was indifferent about.

Really, that was what it came down to. I was close enough to being cis, I didn't have any internal problems with calling myself a woman or living as one. Sure, there probably was something more accurate for me out there, but I knew about the struggles trans people faced. A good friend of mine had come out as trans and started his transition. I was happy for him, but I also got to see the difficulties it brought to update paperwork and book appointments and constantly emailing professors about your new name and pronouns. Not to mention the whole coming out to family thing. Or transphobia. There wasn't enough suffering in me to submit myself to this much effort and misery. Or force everyone in my life to learn a new set of pronouns and name for me, irrevocably changing every single relationship I had in the process. I didn't even want to be a man anyway. Just look a little more like one.

And I could easily present pretty masculine without transitioning. I only wore pants anyway. And hoodies were super comfy. I cut my hair short more than once. I considered buying a binder, just to see what that would do for me, but every time I tried looking into it, I just got overwhelmed and, like I said, there wasn't enough suffering to justify spending 50 bucks and at least one extensive research session on it. Ironically enough, during my last year as cis-adjacent, I finally reconnected with a part of my femininity and wore dresses to special occasions again.

However, a new problem had found my body: The unstoppable passage of time. I wasn't a perky teenager anymore. My body gained weight, my boobs succumbed to gravity, and I had very little in common with what was considered a beautiful woman. Even a beautiful butch woman didn't look like me. No one beautiful looked like me, really. I told myself that I had a lot of internalized misogyny and fatphobia to unlearn. That the reason I started disliking my reflection was social conditioning. I was right about that, of course. But there was more to it that I, in my self-righteous blaming of society, didn't acknowledge.

Until the last full moon night of 2023, when my mirror reflected a ghost back at me.

31 notes · View notes

atticssmellgood · 10 months

Note

I have a request!

I've been feeling super super dysphoric lately and haven't been able to find a fic that just scratches my brain in the right way, and I was wonder if I could request a Spencer Reid x ftm reader where the reader is feeling super dysphoric bc they're pre transition, like no binder level and Spencer helps them feel better with like little words of affirmation shit u know, nothing like super specific you can have creative freedom just definitely words of affirmation

thank you so much!!

To Carry the Weight of a Dead Person with You

Spencer Reid x ftm trans!reader

Summary: Reader feels really dysphoric, Spencer helps

Contains: gender dysphoria, slight mention of misgendering/dead name, hurt/comfort, words of affirmation, slight mention of body parts that could make someone feel dysphoric

A/N: HEY!!! Okay so sorry this took forever to post but I’ve actually been wanting to write this concept for a while, so I’m really glad you requested it! I kinda based this off of my own experiences with gender dysphoria so I hope it still resonates. I hope this makes you feel better🫶🏻 also the title of this is a lyric from “Sweet Cis Teen” by dazey and the scouts

(ALSO LOOK AT HIM HES SO CUTE)

You stand, naked in front of the bathroom mirror, steam from your previous shower fogging up the edges and making the air feel heavy.

It was hard taking a shower when you couldn’t even look down at your own body, and sometimes you succeeded—albeit with a bit of effort. Today was, unfortunately, not one of those days.

Your reflection seemed to beckon you to take a glance when you walked by it and towards the door, it always did. Except today, you listened.

Who knows how long you’ve been standing there, staring at all the parts that just didn’t fit. Your chest that wasn’t flat, your hips that were too wide, your waist that had a curve. None of it felt familiar despite the fact that you’ve lived with this body your entire life.

This week had been especially hard to deal with, the dysphoria practically eating at your insides whenever you had a moment alone with your thoughts. It certainly didn’t help when almost everywhere you went, people just saw you as a woman with short hair and in turn you would get called ma’am by a barista or miss by a stranger trying to catch your attention. You hated it, and yet no matter how hard you tried to ignore them, the thoughts and the comments, you always gave in eventually.

Maybe that’s why you felt stuck, staring at a reflection that you never really recognized as your own. The thoughts began to swarm your mind once more, repeating the one word you hated more than anything.

Girl, girl, girl, girl, gi-

A sudden knock on the bathroom door ripped you away from your trance and a sweet voice spoke to you through the barrier.

“Y/n, you okay in there?” Spencer asked tentatively. He seemed to be a little worried.

You’re quick to respond as you finally turn away from the mirror and crack open the door a bit so your body is hidden behind it but your face is still visible. “Yeah, I’m alright.” You plaster on a smile, one that you hope convinces him of your statement. He looks a little skeptical at first but smiles back.

“Sorry, you were just taking a while and I wanted to make sure you were okay.” He leans in and gives you a small peck on the lips “I’ll leave you alone now.” He grins and turns to leave, walking back to the bedroom.

You close the door and lean your forehead against it with a sigh, closing your eyes, water droplets still dripping from your hair and onto your bare shoulders.

—————————

Not too long after Spencer came to check on you, you emerged from the bathroom dressed in a baggy shirt and large sweatpants. Your moment in the bathroom still clung to the back of your mind as you stepped into the shared bedroom, the door creaking slightly.

You leaned up against the doorframe and smiled at the sight before you. Spencer was sitting against the headboard with his glasses on, reading through a novel rather quickly. He seemed so engrossed in the words on the page that he hadn’t even noticed you watching him, admiring how the dim light of the lamp on the bedside table highlighted his features perfectly. It warmed your heart to see him waiting for you to come to bed, despite how tired he probably was from his eventful day at work.

I padded over to my side of the bed and slowly laid down, not wanting to disturb him. My efforts were in vain however, because as soon as he felt the mattress dip under my weight, he was quick to close the book and turn to me.

“Feel better?” He asks quietly, staring at me with a sleepy smile.

I nod and give him a kiss on the cheek before laying down completely. He took that as a sign to say no more and turn off the lamp light, effectively shrouding the room in darkness. You felt his arm wrap around your waist and pull you closer to him so you were cuddling.

He looked at your face for a second and brushed a piece of your hair back gently. “Your new haircut looks amazing…” he complimented, messing with the now short strands and smiling. When you didn’t say anything back his gaze seemed a little worried.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” His voice was soft and his hand was placed gently on your cheek, his thumb rubbing across the apple of it.

“I’m fine sweetheart, really.” You tell him, although it was a lie. Your thoughts still ate at your mind as you lay there in his embrace. Usually they would’ve gone away by now but it seemed as though they were here to stay this time.

His slight frown indicated that he knew you were lying but he didn’t push you any further on the subject. If you wanted to tell him, you would.

Soon enough, he closed his eyes and drifted off to sleep, his steady breathing signifying his slumber.

After watching him for a bit, you turned over so your back was facing him, his arm still wrapped around you. You try to close your eyes and let sleep pull you under but instead you were stuck staring at the wall, unable to quiet your mind.

As time ticked on and your eyes stayed open, you fell deeper and deeper into the rabbit hole of self-consciousness and dysphoria. You found yourself hearing those same words, over and over and over again, repeated like a mantra in your head.

Girl, her, (dead name), woman, ma’am

This time, you could feel tears pricking at the corners of your eyes but you made an effort to keep them at bay so you didn’t wake Spencer. You didn’t want him to see you crying over something so stupid. But it wasn’t until you looked down that you couldn’t help but let out a small sob.

Spencer’s arm had tightened around you in his sleep, effectively pulling the baggy shirt you wore tighter around your body. It now showed the swell of your chest and the curve of your waist as you laid on your side.

The tears started rolling down your face, then. You clamped a hand over your mouth to muffle the sobs but you couldn’t stop the way your body was shaking. You felt Spencer move a little behind you, stirring from his sleep due to the sobs wracking your body.

“Y/n?” He mumbles groggily from behind. You quickly wipe your eyes in a poor attempt to hide your little breakdown and turn over to face him.

You sniff and attempt a small smile “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up.” You say, your voice cracking slightly and more tears escaping from your eyes.

Spencer quickly but gently pulls you closer to him and wipes your tears with his free hand. His expression is one of concern and softness.

“What happened?” He asks quietly, looking into your eyes with nothing but love.

“Nothing, nothing, I’m fine really…” more tears streak down your face as you continue to lie.

“No, it’s not,” he says as he moves your hair out of your face again “please talk to me, love. I want to help you.”

You finally let the useless facade fall as you bury your head in his shoulder and let it all out.

He strokes your hair softly as you cry on him, wetting his sleep shirt with your tears and shaking in his arms.

After a short while your tears begin to dry a little and you pull back to look at him. He doesn’t say anything but he keeps you close and waits for you to speak.

“I-…” I take in a shaky breath “Why don’t I fit, Spencer?” You ask quietly, your voice wavering.

“Why can’t I look in the mirror and not hate the way my chest isn’t flat or the way my face is too round?” You ask again. You can feel your eyes getting wet again when you speak. “Why couldn’t I have been a boy?”

He strokes your hair lightly and his eyes widen in understanding.

He pulls you to his chest and kisses your head.

“Sweetheart, listen to me,” he looks down at you with a gentle expression “You are a boy, no matter what body you’re in.” He smiles softly.

“It doesn’t matter if your chest isn’t flat or your face is too round, you’ll always be my handsome, dashing, loving boyfriend,” he kisses your forehead “and I wouldn’t have you any other way.”

You sniffle a little bit “It would be nice if I could at least pass though, I just hate it so much…” a few more tears escape your eyes

“I know, but you know what?” He lifts your chin up gently so you can look in his eyes “I’ll be here to help you through your transition, every step of the way.” He smiles and wipes your tears away once more.

“But I want you to know that you already pass perfectly fine in my eyes.” He chuckles and kisses your lips softly, stroking your cheek.

You feel a little better when he says those words, and you nuzzle your head into his neck, mumbling a small “thank you”

He kisses the top of your head again and you both stay there for a moment, soaking up the warmth and love that was filling your small bedroom as he peppers kisses all over you and plays with your hair.

Spencer is the one to break the silence with a small yawn and a whisper.

“You know, I really meant what I said about your hair,” he mumbles as he twirls a strand around his finger “it makes you look even more handsome than usual….” He smiles and you feel a grin coming to your face too.

“There it is…” he chuckles warmly as he pulls back to look at your face with soft eyes.

“I love you so much, you know that?” He whispers, snuggling to you close once again. You smile even wider as he says that.

“I love you more…”

You end up falling asleep like that, cuddled up in Spencer’s arms as he whispers sweet compliments to you, running his slender fingers through your hair.

You knew that you would still have these days, the ones that caused you to break down with just one look in the mirror, but you felt happy regardless.

Because you knew Spencer would be there to give you those small compliments that made you feel so much better in your own skin.

Every step of the way.

#spencer reid x reader #ftm reader #trans!reader #hurt/comfort #spencer reid #criminal minds #x reader fluff #fluff x reader #dysphoria mention

74 notes · View notes

ratboylovesyou · 3 months

Text

not to be dramatic but. i would actually die for my trans friends.

#trans #transgender #trans ftm #trans mtf #trans fem #trans masc #t4t #t4t love #trans man #trans woman #transfeminine #transmasculine #dysphoria mention #id probably die for all of my friends but the point stands #elliott rambles

20 notes · View notes

genocat · 7 months

Text

a little cat I drew when I was feeling dysphoric.

he made me and my friends feel happy - so I hope he can do the same for anyone else currently struggling <:]

#cat #doodle #transgender #trans pride #pride #lgbtq community #dysphoria mention

44 notes · View notes

mothseatinghumanflesh · 11 months

Text

#actually mentally ill #bpd thoughts #gender dysphoria #tw dysphoria #dysphoric #ftm dysphoria #bpd mood #bpd shit #transmasc #trans boy #transgender #cis #dysphoria mention

84 notes · View notes

bunnieswithknives · 1 year

Note

Soo... Is Shrignold in denial or something

He's homophobic, yet he himself is pan 🤨

Yeah ❤

But for a more detailed answer my Shrignold is intersex and uses that as his justification despite identifying exclusively as male and getting very dysphoric if addressed otherwise.

#He just sorta forces himself to identify as female for a while #he as so many issues ❤#two of us!Shrignold #two of us AU #dysphoria mention #idk what to tag this as so tell me if I need to add anything

133 notes · View notes

tboygonzo · 2 years

Text

My man benji hits the nail right on the head with this one

#hell followed with us #dysphoria mention

379 notes · View notes

watatsumiis · 1 year

Note

Dottore helping you get the body you deserve ong 👉👈 he... He would... STOP that's such a comfort... Sobs...

As much as I clown on Dottore and write him as the most bonkers silly unhinged man ever but honestly, I can see him being extremely responsible with things like this.

Like, you'd receive nothing but genuine support from him, he'd even offer to get ahold of (totally legal) hormone treatments if that's what you desire.

Though the prime segment can't empathise as deeply with dysphoria troubles as some of the other segments, he's done more than enough research on the subject to have a very professional knowledge on it all.

From the moment you first mention it to him, Dottore would be supportive - not in the 'jumping around cheering and hollering' sort of way, but more of a quiet understanding that comes from extensive amounts of research and observation. He'll ask questions at first, mostly about your plans (if any) going forward. If you're unsure, he'll present you with your options and then drop the subject entirely until you bring it up with him, in which case he dives right back in and it's like the conversation never took a break.

Like, it's easy to doubt yourself and worry about the little things, but despite his reputation for being somewhat incredulous and mocking towards others, he never makes you feel any less than accepted and supported, and would sooner die than disclose your personal information to anybody else.

And you know what? Of course he'd be happy to help you achieve your goals in a more hands-on way if that's what you want! Just give him some time to do some research and get the right equipment, then he'll be good to go.

He may also ask you if there are any extra 'customisations' of the physical variety you'd like while you're under - his enthusiasm won't wane in the slightest if you say no though. Sometimes Dottore can be a force for good instead of just one for chaos :)

Please don't copy, repost, plagiarise or otherwise steal my writing!

#Sorry this answer was late. You triggered the Dottore brainrot K #Like this mans is way more supportive than you'd think. He even acts ?? Professional ????#Even if he is in a bonkers silly experimentation mood he knows he won't get accurate results if his patients #Are not at the best they can be to start off with !!!!!#Dottore #Dottore X reader #Dottore X trans reader #Trans!reader #X trans reader #General howls #My writing #Dysphoria mention #Surgery mention #Asks

87 notes · View notes