My inner Giant

One of the things that really triggers my dysphoria at the moment is my ID-card. The picture on it is taken several years ago during a time when I was feeling bad and had a lot of anxiety. I have long hair and try to smile like a “real woman would”. Easy to say, it’s not me on the picture. I feel like I have nothing in common with her and I don’t like her. She is weak, depressed, cautious, uncomfortable, shy, timid and not much fun to be around. Every time I open up my wallet, she is there staring back at me making me feel like I’ve been punched in the stomach. I used to be her, or more like it, she used to contain me. At least that’s how I feel it. That person was never a mix of the two of us, I was there all along, but hidden deep within her protective walls. Her walls was not there to protect me, I don’t need that kind of protection, the walls was there to make sure I never got out. Now that I’ve finally broken free and have cracked the walls I realize that she was never a person, she was nothing but walls. She had no depth, no soul, no personality. She is not dead, she can’t be, because she was never alive to start with. I don’t mourn the loss of a person because she never was one. But every time I look in my wallet, I’m reminded of those walls someone built for me. I’m reminded of the prison I lived in for so long and I start to wonder who made that prison. I do realize that I must have built her myself, but I can’t imagine that I would have built anything if I didn’t feel forced to it let alone build Her. I can’t just blame my parents for this, even though they have a big part in it. Especially my mother was always very worried about what other people would think and say about her/us so she used her influence on me to make sure my walls were built to be socially acceptable ones: female, girly, timid, well behaved. I was trained to always watch myself, always do right to others and never do anything that might make other people feel uncomfortable. I feel like I was trained and treated as a performing monkey. In an ideal world I wouldn’t have needed to do this and my parents wouldn’t have felt the need to do this, but we never live in an ideal world. I’m just happy that I was able to break out and feel the strength and raw power of the giant that is my soul. When I started my transition I had a really surreal feeling of actually housing a giant inside of me. A giant who, like Gulliver, had been chained up by the Lilliputs when in fact he was just asleep. Last year he started to wake up and I could feel the ground tremble as he did that. When he later on started to stand up to stretch his back after so many years sleeping, the walls and chains that was built to restrain him inevitably cracked and fell to the ground. You really shouldn’t build containing walls too small and too thin for what you want to contain. At least not if you want it to last…

 

Picture of the giant Jorm from the Swedish childrensbook

Picture of Jorm from the book “Dunderklumpen”

 
So who is this amazing giant? When I was a kid there was a children’s movie called “Dunderklumpen“. It’s a partial cartoon, partial film and it also has a giant in it. This giant is very similar to mine. When he’s sleeping, he is a mountain. He is gentle and kind, but the sheer size of him makes the ground to tremble when he walks. His voice sounds like the thunder, his breath is the wind and you wouldn’t want to be near him when he sneezes 😉 I’m very proud of my giant and feel like he’s a mix of a guardian angel, my soul, my fate and my subconscious mind. He is what I would call my “inner voice”. He would never let anyone do him (or me) any harm but he would never fight. For him it’s enough to say “No” and people listen. You would to if the thunder told you “No” ever so kindly. My inner giant doesn’t really notice the shattered walls by his feets that used to contain him and he doesn’t care that someone even tried to contain him. “Good luck” he says “it’s like spiders would try to contain you with their webs”. I don’t really care either, I’m free now and that is all that matters, but at the same time I’m reminded of the imprisonment every time I open my wallet. So today I’m taking my first step to change that. I’m going to file for an official name change.

P.S. If you watch the clip to the end, there’s a really nice song sung by “Elvira Fattigan”, a really poor lady. The lyrics are “Thanks for everything I remember, thanks for everything that exist, thanks for the sky, thanks for the night, thanks for the wind, thanks for the mountains. Thanks for everything I see, thanks for everything that happens, thanks for the reindeers, thanks for the sun, thanks for rocks, thanks for the earth. My life is good, my life is good.”

  

Elvira Fattigan frpm the Swedish childrensbook

Elvira Fattigan from “Dunderklumpen”

 

10 thoughts on “My inner Giant

  1. I can so relate, Dunderklumpen Fredrik. The freedom is a great feeling. The ID photo on my drivers license keeps vampires away. Luckily it is up for renewal this year. All the best with the names change. Take care.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Right back at you! I feel I can always relate and draw parallels to my own life from your posts! My licence is also up for renewal, but if I change my name, I have to have a new one faster… Hopefully you will like your new photo better on your new licence! Hugs.

      Liked by 1 person

  2. Thanks for posting the link to the video – I definitely relate to the sleeping giant feeling.
    All my adult headshots have been OK, because I have always had a boyish haircut and neutral glasses – but I hated having my girly gendered birth name splashed across my documents. It was a great relief to have everything Jamie’d when I legally changed my name (new photo too, but not much different than the old except for a little more gray hair).
    On the other hand I think it is good to always remember what it was like when I tried to deny and suppress how I felt, and to remember how much better I feel now. So put some pictures away because there will come a time when no one will believe that you ever were that way.

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  3. It is rather odd to look at the driver’s licence I had made just a few days after my legal name change and thanks to the New Mexico Motor Vehicle Department my gender marker being updated as well with a form signed by my doctor. I can’t see from my picture how I could have people Iread me as female. My therapist remarked that people can’t see me as I see myself in a photograph or mirror. I still can’t fathom how they could read me any other way but as male yet somehow someway they read me like I had some super power which could make people see me as I wanted to be seen and differently for each person. It really still blows my mind even after all this time.

    Liked by 1 person

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